MISSOURI'S PURSUIT OF ETHICS MAY NOT BE AN EASY PROCESS

Several steps must still be taken before a law enacted back in 1991 and scheduled to go into effect last January can actually be set in motion. The statute in question is the Ethics in Government Act, a finely tuned piece of legislation that got its impetus following the arrest and conviction of a former state representative whose substance abuse problems embarrassed and tarnished the reputation of an entire state legislature. Following the problems encountered by Dewey Crump, public demand for corrective action provided more heat than many legislators were willing to endure, and so a bill was proposed and enacted that established a bipartisan Ethics Commission, with candidates to be nominated by congressional committees of the two parties and the selection to be made from both lists by the governor.

Several factors have thus far contributed to the delay of the commission, but the fact that one is not yet in place can be traced to no particular doorstep. The wheels of the gods grind slowly, but eventually the statute will be fulfilled and a duly constituted commission will begin its duties. The new panel will have a full plate from the moment it first meets, since enabling legislation envisioned that it would already be in existence. Several oversight duties have already been transferred to the commission, and not a few of these should have already been tended to, including those of the old Missouri Campaign Review Board, now extinct.

It will be some time before the commission, empowered by legislation, will be able to set new ethics rules for state employees and elected officials, including members of the General Assembly. Unwilling to wait for commission directives, the legislature has already enacted several restrictions on its own behavior, including limits on the acceptance of free meals and entertainment from lobbyists and special interest groups. It is entirely possible that legislators, responding to public anger over the Crump scandal, overreacted, enacting far more restrictions than were necessary. When it comes to ethical guidelines, it may be preferable to enact too many than too few, as proponents argued in 1991, but everyone can agree that those determined to circumvent the rules will find a way to do so, while keeping within the letter, if not the spirit, of ethical standards. Laws only regulate behavior, not character.

The problem that will soon emerge under the new commission is not one of procedure but of definition. Members will have to ask themselves, and ultimately decide, just what constitutes ethical malfeasance. Does a free meal from a lobbyist constitute unethical behavior? What about a paid speech at a meeting of parents of mentally retarded children? What about the acceptance of campaign funds by a chairman of an oversight committee from the industry which he regulates?

The difficulty of defining every conceivable situation that may confront state employees and elected officials is no worse than actually trying to define ethical behavior even in abstract terms. Should lawmakers vote on a statute that will knowingly enrich a business or activity of a relative, and if so, then how far removed must the relative be before the legislator is free to exercise his own conscience? Is a governor guilty of ethical infractions when he signs legislation that will benefit his major campaign contributors? Can a lawmaker stay within the guidelines if he votes to increase the salary of a lifelong friend who has befriended him with a loan?

We're uncertain how long it will take, but eventually, commission members will become modern-day Pharisees, divining every act, splitting every nuance, measuring every deed to see whether it is legal, and if legal, whether it is ethical. The public remains ambivalent about ethics in government, demanding that it be present but oftentimes unable to define it. Consider the criticism that Ross Perot has leveled against alleged unethical acts of federal employees, yet Perot's own company repeatedly sought to circumvent competitive bids for federal contracts when it solicited government business. And didn't Perot, whose influence among his state's congressional delegation was enormous, secure federal grants for a family-owned commercial airport between Fort Worth and Dallas?

Was it unethical for Perot to have accepted millions from the federal treasury simply because he had contributed heavily to those members of Congress who did his bidding? We're sure the Texas billionaire would dismiss any hint of impropriety, as did Richard Nixon and the Keating Five and Dewey Crump. Occupants of the Amen Corner are not absolved of guilt simply because they are the loudest protesters of their own innocence or the sins of their enemies.

Ethics in Missouri is coming late this year, but unfortunately we will be lucky if it contributes one whit to more honest governance of the state.