Jonathan Chait disagrees with the Jonathan Rauch’s point about the bite-back effects of modern reform as one explanation for political dysfunction. The problem Chait sees is that the GOP has gone mad and that a reversal of course on reform—e.g. opening up more resources for the parties—won’t make any significant difference.

Rauch does not dispute that there is a limit to what can be expected of his reform-the-reforms program. He also looks for the source of the problem in wider causes, though his emphasis is not on the qualitative difference between the major parties’ styles, tone and tactics. He does suggest that the 1970’s reforms, including but not limited to the passion for full transparency, can make it harder to achieve constructive discussion and compromise even when this healthier politics might otherwise be possible.

Chait cites studies validating his case that the resistance to compromise with a reviled opposition has advanced to a destructive degree within the GOP. But there is evidence to suggest that this hyper-partisanship may be spreading and there may be less to distinguish partisans on this score over time if the current trend holds. Pew has just published a study concluding that “partisans’ views of the opposing party are now more negative than at any point in nearly a quarter of a century.” Among its findings: “Exactly half of Republicans and 46 percent of Democrats said they find talking politics with a member of the opposing party to be ‘stressful and frustrating.’”

In an article just published in Atlantic, Jonathan Rauch argues that modern political reform has contributed to a disastrously weakened capacity for responsible, functional self-governance.The damage has been done to critically needed intermediary institutions, such as parties, whose effectiveness depend on allowances and practices now associated with old-style politics: less transparency in the conduct of government business, more resources for parties and their leadership, more of a role for party leaders and elites in screening candidates, and more flexibility for congressional leaders to utilize tools like "pork" to induce cohesion in the legislative ranks. The result of the change has been what he calls “chaos syndrome.”

Rauch does not claim that the reforms all without merit, or that we can or should leapfrog back to the end of the 19th or early 20th century. But, he says, by scaling back or adjusting certain of these reforms, something can be done to restore functionality to our politics—to contain the “chaos.”

Writing perceptively about this problem of reform’s “unintended consequences, ” Rauch recognizes that there are “other, larger trends” in the political culture responsible for this syndrome. For example, he cites the “politphobes” among voters who are convinced that there are clear remedies, beyond reasonable disagreement, to the nation’s ills, and that only the politicians and their political shenanigans and dark conspiracies have gotten in the way. He faults the reforms, for exacerbating this and other problems, just as he appreciates that revisions in the 1970’s reform model won’t somehow alone bring order out of the chaos.

It would be mistake, and maybe a trap, if Rauch’s analysis were taken to call only for re-evaluation of reforms already enacted. The argument taken primarily in that direction is sure to activate the same tired debates, feeding into the standard fear that politicians, "rolling back" reforms,  are taking care of themselves at everyone else’s expense. No less important is bringing Rauch’s analysis into a discussion of the proposal of new reforms.

The Supreme Court will soon decide whether to take up a major case about disclosure and this has received little attention—far less than it should. At issue is the clarification of how far government authority extends in requiring the disclosure of the financing of “issues speech”--speech or just information about candidates’ positions that does not involve engaging in advocacy of their election or defeat. There are reasons why the case might have been overlooked: it involves a small organization in a small state, and the activity concerns state and local, not federal (much less presidential), candidates. Perhaps, also, because it is “just” about disclosure, this case might be supposed to pose little danger of harm to anyone’s rights or legitimate expectations.

This is serious business. As the states move along with their own reform programs, and as litigation proceeds under different standards applied by different circuits and diminishing consistency in the treatment of federal and state or local-level enactment, disclosure doctrine is losing its coherence, and key constitutional distinctions once taken for granted are being rapidly eroded. One disturbing result: the “big” and sophisticated spenders at the federal level are more protected than the “little guy” at the levels below.

In the case in question, Delaware Strong Families v. Denn, the speech took the form of a Voter Guide that reproduced positions supplied by the candidates themselves, or in the case of candidates who declined to cooperate, their stated positions drawn from the public record. DSF is a 501(c)(3) barred from endorsing candidates, unlike an affiliated (c)(4) that may and does. There is no allegation that the (c)(3) is evading the prohibition on partisan speech. Delaware has enacted a disclosure law that applies to this Guide, requiring the disclosure of DSF donors who have given over $100 over a four- year period. The law covers all speech referring to candidates, whether by broadcast, mail or Internet, within 30 days of a primary election or 60 days of a general. It is triggered by the expenditure of more than $500 without regard to the size of the audience.

DSF sued and won in district court, then suffered a reversal of fortune in the Third Circuit Court of Appeals. The short opinion issued by the Third Circuit is striking in its breadth and, one might say, daring. It looks past the critical Buckley distinction between express and issue advocacy, apparently in the belief that, on this point, the 1976 decision has been overtaken by the decisions in McConnell and Citizens United, especially the latter, which it reads to allow for the regulation of any issues speech that could influence voter choice. So, on the assumption that its position is well supported by recent developments in the constitutional law, the Third Circuit embraced this view:

By selecting issues on which to focus, a voter guide that mentions candidates by name and is distributed close to an election is, at a minimum, issue advocacy. Thus, the disclosure requirements can properly apply to DSF’s Voter Guide…”

793 F.3d 304, 309 (July 16, 2015)

The State of Delaware has joined with reform organizations to defend this proposition. It concedes that the statute is expansive in reach, sweeping in smaller organizations and small-scale spending. But it justifies aggressive disclosure policy in a state the size of Delaware, where a little spending goes a long way. It contends that states have the right to decide how much spending is effective in the local conditions in which it occurs, taking in account the size of the electorate and other factors, and to apply disclosure requirements accordingly.   And the states can conclude that issues speech—in this case, the duplication of material the candidates supply –triggers mandatory disclosure of small donors in the interests of an informed electorate.

The New York Times Editorial Board has returned, as it reliably does, to the subject of money in politics.  It is taking stock of campaign finance in this year of the unexpected, and it argues that “big money” has adjusted its strategy, especially in the Republican ranks, where donors spooked by Trump and fearful of loss are supposedly moving money “down ballot.”  This may prove to the case, or it may not, but the editorial underscores the point that the more times change, the more certain arguments remain the same and yet, for that very reason, may raise unintended questions.

The standard reform case has long disputed that it is concerned with the amount of money in politics.  It is argued that none of the regulatory measures advocated have as their purpose a limitation on how much is spent.  But the Times goes back to just this anxiety—“the “vast amount of money sluicing through the political system,” the breaking of all spending records, the “frenzied pace” to raise and spend more of it.

The same reform argument that disputes that it is focused on volume also usually denies that its goal is to channel money into more productive and healthier uses-- cleansing the system of dirty politics or negative campaigning or manipulative advertising. Here again, the Times shows that old habits die hard.  It is troubled that so much of the spending underwrites “toxic advertising.”  It notes the descent of non-profit activity into “bare-knuckle” politics.  And it adds the complaint that there is excessive waste in the system, “enriching the new breed of fat-cat campaign operatives.”

What the Times does not account for—and what may pose the largest problem for reform driven by anxieties about volume and its salutary use—are the stakes that parties, political groups, activists, and others may perceive in the contests on which so much is spent.

To the extent that large contributions are given to secure a political quid pro quo from current and potential office holders, the integrity of our system of representative democracy is undermined. Although the scope of such pernicious practices can never be reliably ascertained, the deeply disturbing examples surfacing after the 1972 election demonstrate that the problem is not an illusory one. 

Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S 1, 27.  

This was the magnitude of the conclusion that the Supreme Court drew about the prevalence or appearance of corruption when it upheld the contribution limitations of the Federal Election Campaign Act. The corruption problem was “not… illusory” but its scope could ‘never’ be pinned down.  The Court then cited to the decision of the court below that had offered a few example of pernicious behavior with campaign funds in the 1972 presidential election. That was enough.

In the years following, enough has not proven to be as good as a feast.  And in search of the feast, anyone with a point to make about the campaign finance laws has been pursuing conclusive data to support it.  Corruption, or the absence of corruption, or the different definitions and measures of corruption, have all occasioned argument about the evidence, as has the related but different project of proving the “appearance” of corruption.  Argument about the evidence has yet to be settled and there's every reason to believe that they never will be.

The related but still distinguishable argument about political inequality has meant the same search for clinching proof that policy follows money and makes for a “rigged” system.  This week, the Center for Competitive Politics took after a widely reported paper about the correlation between the aspirations of the wealthy and the manufacture of public policy.  Noting that Rick Hasen and Larry Lessig had made use of the paper in arguing for a political equality theory of regulation, the CCP cited to critics of the scholarship and its conclusions.  In this critical view, which CCP evidently favors, there is substantial agreement across income groups about policy.  So the study that purportedly shows that we have a democracy of the rich cannot survive close scrutiny. CCP suggests that this should bring sharply into question the “lofty solutions” of reformers.