Speech by Bill Bradley on Money in
  Politics and Democratic Reform 
   
              As Prepared for Delivery 

         National Press Club, Washington, DC 
 
   A couple of years ago, I was visiting Crystal City,
    Missouri, where I grew up, and I ran into my high school
    history teacher. He reminded me about a paper I had
    written for him about the 1896 presidential election. It
    was entitled, "Money is Power." 

    Back then, I had never heard of soft money or PACs but I
    evidently understood that money could overwhelm
    democracy. 

    The paper told the story of Mark Hanna of Ohio who
    virtually invented the modern political money game. 

    William McKinley was the Republican governor of Ohio,
    and Mark Hanna -- his campaign manager -- was
    determined to get him elected president. While the
    Democratic candidate, William Jennings Bryan, traveled
    the country taking controversial stands on issues like the
    troubles of farmers and women's suffrage, Hanna
    invented a different strategy. McKinley sat on his porch
    in Ohio, carefully spinning sound bites that positioned
    him as a "new Republican," while Hanna promised the
    financiers and titans of that era that their interests would
    be protected in the McKinley White House. 

    The money men responded. Wall Street firms each
    committed a percentage of their capital. John D.
    Rockefeller's Standard Oil gave a quarter of a million. In
    all, they raised $3.5 million -- which was real money a
    hundred years ago -- and they won. 

    But one loyal McKinley supporter was profoundly
    dismayed by the whole spectacle of money and
    promises. Theodore Roosevelt, a young police
    commissioner in New York, had campaigned for
    McKinley in 1896. But after the race, he was appalled by
    the blatant selling of the office and complained that
    "Hanna has advertised McKinley as if he were a patent
    medicine." 

    Later, Roosevelt would become the only president in the
    Twentieth Century who was truly a leader in an effort to
    limit the influence of money on democracy. In 1907, he
    signed into law the first restrictions on campaign
    finance. 

    In doing that paper, I sensed that money was to politics
    as acid is to cloth -- eating away at the fabric of
    democracy. Today, when $3.5 million might be the cost
    of a single congressional race, there is no doubt that
    money is again the decisive power in our elections. 

    I don't think it has to be that way for our country.
    Democracy doesn't have to be a commodity that is
    bought and sold. 

    Most politicians enter politics to do good -- not to
    constantly ask people for money. I am running for
    President because I want an American democracy that
    invests in the future of its children by lifting them out of
    poverty and offering every child -- every child -- a decent
    education. I want more Americans to have good
    healthcare. I want to heal the racial divide that
    shortcircuits our national potential. I want to be the good
    steward of a good economy in which working Americans
    of all incomes can become financially secure. 

    But I know to achieve any of these things, we need a
    healthy democratic process. A process in which
    everyone's voice can be heard, where dissent is
    respected, and candidates run on the strength of their
    ideas -- not the weight of their wallets. 

    I don't believe politics is a dirty word. I believe it's a
    noble profession. It's the only way to get things done in a
    democracy. It's how we created Social Security and
    Medicare. It's the way we lit the path toward civil rights.
    It's how we build highways and schools and a better life
    for all of us. At its best, politics can unify people around
    a vision or an aspiration that none of us can reach by
    ourselves. 

    The lifeblood of democracy and politics is trust. Where
    other forms of government depend on fear or ideology,
    only democracy rests on our ability to put our trust in our
    neighbors and in ourselves. It asks each of us to do so;
    we have to believe that others will do the same, and that
    the system that represents us does so fairly and
    responsively. 

    Democracy is the most powerful political idea ever born
    on this planet. But, because it depends on trust it is also
    the most fragile. In 1958, 73 percent of the American
    people said they trusted the government to do what is
    right "most of the time." Today, that figure is 29%. 

    Trust has been betrayed and attacked from many fronts.
    Dishonesty is part of it. Every little lie erodes trust
    invisibly, like acid rain. Politicians who talk and promise
    -- rather than listen and do -- contribute to it as well. Trust
    is also threatened by politics that divide us rather than
    bring us together, for example, the scapegoating of
    immigrants or the stigmatizing of racial minorities. And
    trust can be destroyed by the way we talk about each
    other: remember Newt Gingrich's list of words that he
    advised candidates to use in describing their
    opponents? "Sick," "Pathetic," "Traitors." The
    consequences of such words linger years after the
    campaigns are forgotten. 

    But nothing breaks down trust in democracy as
    powerfully and surely as money. 

    The simplest story of our republic is about people
    speaking to their representatives, and their
    representatives listening to their voices, to their
    concerns, to their hopes, and to their fears. 

    Big money gets in the way of that. It is like a great stone
    wall that comes between the people and their
    representatives. A great wall that prevents each from
    hearing the other. A great wall that muffles the sounds of
    the people. 

    At the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, people wedge small
    notes into the stones, hoping God will hear their prayers.
    I trust that He does, but here in Washington, the notes
    and prayers of the people are not always heard or
    answered because the great wall of money gets in the
    way. 

    Ever wonder why Congress seems so eager and
    determined to act on issues like accelerated
    depreciation? Or why it seems so paralyzed and
    indifferent when it comes to child poverty or the
    economic anxieties of Americans who aren't wealthy?
    Or why the HMO Bill of Rights debate ends up as it did,
    with insurance companies the winners? 

    I served on the Finance Committee for eighteen years.
    Whenever we considered a big tax bill, the room would
    be full -- standing room only -- and the hall outside would
    be lined with lobbyists, each trying to get a provision in
    the tax bill that would reduce his or her clients' taxes
    while leaving the rest of us paying higher taxes. There
    were billions of dollars at stake and cell phones were
    buzzing. The next day the Finance Committee would
    consider measures to reduce child poverty. Millions of
    dollars would be at stake. The lobbyists would be gone.
    The room mostly empty. 

    At times, money does more than shape the agenda. It
    has specific consequences that run counter to the public
    good. Take guns, for example. Thirteen children in
    America are killed every day by guns. Eighty-five
    percent of Americans favor mandatory registration of
    handguns. But Congress seems to find any excuse not
    to do something about it, even going so far as to pass
    bills by day and then quietly kill them by night. Does this
    make sense? Does it make more sense when you learn
    that the National Rifle Association gave 1.7 million
    dollars to congressional Republicans and $283,000 to
    Democrats? 

    Money doesn't always have such a direct effect. But too
    often it does. If one person, one vote is the essential
    equation of our democracy, money skews that simple
    logic, for money makes one person's vote more
    important than another. 

    Remember the old expression, I want to put my two
    cents worth in? The idea was that even though it was just
    two cents, your idea mattered. It was worth something.
    Today your two cents worth is often just worth -- two
    cents. 

    In a curious way, money in politics turns everyone into an
    interest group. You're either, for example, a gun owner or
    a trial lawyer or a tobacco company, each with its own
    fundraising machine. Or, you're in the great ranks of the
    non-givers, without a voice. One of the consequences of
    this is that when voters don't get the results they wanted
    they feel cheated and ignored. When you believe that
    influence drives the process, and you don't win, you
    believe someone else's influence has trumped yours
    and your trust in your government diminishes. For many
    Americans, democracy is like a broken thermostat; they
    turn the dial but nothing happens. 

    So what do we have to do in order to restore trust in our
    democracy? Our goal should be to make money much
    less important, and make ideas, character, and
    experience count for much more. How do we do this? 

    First, we need to change the rules of the campaign
    finance system. For almost a century, since Teddy
    Roosevelt, corporations have been prohibited from
    giving money to politics and since Watergate, for the last
    quarter century, individuals have been held to
    reasonable limits, currently $1000 per candidate. Money
    started pouring through the underground channel of "soft
    money," where there are no limits at all. 

    No reform of the regulated, above ground system will
    matter until we close down this murky, unregulated,
    underground system. If trends of the last four years
    continue, the 2000 election will see nearly three-quarters
    of a billion dollars move through the soft money loophole.

    That's about as much as was raised through the entire
    normal system for all congressional races put together in
    1998. 

    Therefore, the top priority must be to prohibit soft money
    contributions to national party committees and to ban
    state committees from spending their soft money to
    affect federal elections. Such actions are already
    supported by a majority of the House and Senate. All it
    takes is committed leadership and an insistent public
    and then the soft money ban in the McCain-Feingold bill
    will become law. 

    I believe leaders have an obligation to obey both the
    letter and spirit of the law. But I also think that we have
    an opportunity to look beyond the law to what is right.
    Governor Bush and Vice President Gore have both said
    they support changing the soft money system. However,
    both reportedly have directed their top fundraisers to
    begin raising soft money for the general election. But
    before the money machines start humming, let's pause
    and think about a better way. Let me issue a challenge:
    if I am the presidential nominee of the Democratic Party,
    the first thing I will do is to invite the Republican nominee
    to join me in a compact. We will each direct our parties
    not to raise or spend soft money in the general election
    on, for example, such matters as issue advertising. A
    genuine commitment to reform takes two farsighted
    leaders, not just one. 

    After bringing the underground economy under control,
    the first goal of a reform system is that the public should
    be able to hear from all viable candidates. A second
    goal should be to encourage the fullest participation of
    voters.




    To reach the first goal, we need to state clearly that
    money must come from the public, and be accountable
    to the public. 

    When I say that money must come from the public, I
    mean that there should be only two sources of money. 

    One is from individuals -- limited and instantly reported. 

    The second source -- the public. 

    Today, as many as twenty-four states and a few cities
    are in the midst of a great experiment in public financing
    of political campaigns. These experiments contribute to
    my own ideas about campaign finance reform. 

    The results are already coming in for one type of
    experiment -- partial public financing. In New York City,
    for example, a new law went into effect last year that
    provides a four-to-one match on any contribution of less
    than $250, but only for candidates who adhere to
    spending limits. That means that a modest contribution
    from a working family can be as valuable as $1000 from
    a wealthier person. In the first election held under this
    system, more than five times as many people
    contributed, and the average contribution was $135. 

    In Maine, Massachusetts, Vermont, and Arizona
    voluntary full public financing of elections has become
    law. The supporters of this effort put forward a set of
    clear principles: that democracy is a public
    responsibility; that all private money is potentially
    corrupting; and that the public should be willing to
    provide all the resources that candidates need to be
    heard. Everywhere that voters have been offered those
    principles, they have voted for them, both in liberal and
    conservative states. It's an elegant, principled idea. And
    it has powered a meaningful citizens' movement to
    change the role of money in politics. 

    In my own state of New Jersey, we've had public
    financing of gubernatorial elections for over 20 years.
    Candidates are limited in the amount of money they
    spend during the primary, and the two party nominees
    each spend their time communicating with voters, not
    just donors. The result? Twenty years of elections where
    the contests are spirited, but money has never made the
    difference. 

    A Bradley Administration will propose a two-to-one
    match for contributions of $250 or less in federal
    congressional primaries, and public financing for
    general elections. In exchange candidates would limit
    their total expenditures in both primary and general
    elections. And for those who say it can't be done, that
    this kind of reform is too big, let me say one thing: Don't
    underestimate the people. Or for that matter don't
    underestimate the politicians. Today political leaders
    with the best of intentions find themselves spending the
    better part of too many days figuring out how to have
    enough money to be heard. Like Ross Perot said, "good
    people caught in a bad system." Public financing gives
    them a way out -- a way to once again concentrate fully
    on the issues and the people. 

    Many argue that real reform is futile, because the
    wealthy and powerful will always seek ways to evade all
    limits. I don't believe that's true. For example, the
    Committee for Economic Development, business
    leaders from companies such as GE, Goldman Sachs
    and Allied Signal who have recently come out strongly
    for campaign finance reform, including partial public
    financing of campaigns. They said, "a well functioning
    business system will not remain viable in an environment
    of real or perceived corruption, which will corrode
    confidence in government and business. We wish to
    compete in the marketplace not in the political arena."
    And they are not alone. 

    As long as Americans get most of their information from
    television -- another way to reduce the role of money in
    politics is by offering free time to candidates. Television
    broadcasters have been granted one of the most
    valuable public trusts in the history of our nation. It's
    asset value is as much a windfall as giving away
    Yellowstone National Park to timber companies for free.
    With the new digital spectrum, it could be worth 20 or 30
    billion dollars. With a public trust like that comes public
    obligations, and no obligation is greater than that of
    citizenship. 

    There are many ways that free time could be made
    available in the 60 days before an election. To do it
    properly will require a sensitivity to the local setting. A
    one size fits all approach may not be appropriate. There
    could be multiple formats. The important thing though is
    the principle and the commitment. A part of any plan
    settled on, should be that free time is available only to
    those who choose to accept public financing with its
    limitation on total expenditures. 

    But television's dominance of political communications
    may be coming to an end. Our assumptions about
    money and trust change when the Internet takes over.
    For one thing, unlike TV, it's not expensive. For another,
    unlike TV, it's not exclusive -- my web site
    billbradley.com doesn't push aside anyone else's.
    Finally, it's interactive. On systems like the Democracy
    Network, you can talk both to candidates and to your
    neighbors. Most importantly, the Internet provides as
    much or as little information as a citizen needs. People
    who come to my web site can look at a 30-second video
    clip if that's all they want, or they can read my speeches
    and press releases. It puts citizens back in control. 

    That brings us to the question of citizens. In 1996 only
    54% of the eligible voters actually cast their vote for
    President of the United States. That means roughly 25%
    of the voters elected Bill Clinton President. In 1998
    participation in congressional elections dropped to
    37%. Is it any wonder that people don't feel Congress or
    the government reflects them? But it is a two-way street.
    Only if Citizens vote, can they take ownership of their
    government. Sadly, the citizens who vote least -- the
    young, the poor and minorities voters -- are those who
    are often ignored by the national government. A
    philosopher I like once said, "Individual rights are a
    protection from society but for those rights to have any
    meaning requires one to fulfill your obligation to society."
    Voting is the first obligation. Therefore, the goal of
    democratic reform must not be limited to shutting down
    sources of money -- the goal must be to open up the
    process, remove the barriers that limit participation and
    most important, give people substantial reasons why
    their votes count. 

    For example, right now, people who are willing to host
    fundraising or other campaign events in their own home,
    are allowed to exceed the contribution limits by specific
    amount when paying for event catering and invitations.
    But there is no similar participation exemption for
    grassroots activity -- you can not print your own bumper
    stickers, or brochures, or spend money for grassroots
    activities the same way you're allowed to spend money
    to raise money. I propose broadening the exemption to
    include grassroots political activity, so that campaigns
    don't have to tell interested, engaged citizens that they
    can't do anything. 

    Then there's voter registration. To become a naturalized
    citizen of the United States, you have to take a test. One
    question on the test is, "What is the most important right
    granted to American citizens?" We all might have
    different answers -- some might say it's the right to free
    speech or to worship as you please -- but the "correct"
    answer on the test is, "the right to vote." If it's the most
    important right, why is it the only right that you have to
    register in advance before you can use it? You don't
    have to register to contribute money to campaigns. You
    don't have to register to speak. You no longer even have
    to register for jury duty. Why do you still have to register
    in advance to vote? 

    I spent many years in the Senate working with other
    Senators to make it easier to register to vote. The motor
    voter law, for example, took years to pass but has been
    successful. But now I believe we were starting from the
    wrong premise. 

    Why did we accept the idea that people should go
    through a hoop in order to exercise the most important
    right of a citizen? We should have seen advance voter
    registration for what it really is: the last barrier in the long
    row of barriers blocking full participation. We knocked
    the others over one by one: people without property
    couldn't vote -- changed. African-Americans couldn't
    vote -- changed. Women couldn't vote -- changed.
    Eighteen year-olds couldn't vote -- changed. 

    In an age of computers, anyone should be able to walk
    into a voting place, demonstrate proof of identity, and
    cast a vote that very day. In Minnesota, one in six votes
    are cast by people who registered on Election Day.
    Then, at the end of the day, to prevent fraud, the system
    should take thirty minutes to ensure that the same
    person didn't try to vote at another place. If a name
    popped up twice, both votes would be disqualified. No
    one should ever be told that, just because they didn't get
    interested in the election until November, they're not
    entitled to vote. 

    I will propose removing these barriers with national
    same day registration. I will also propose to make voting
    even easier by allowing people to vote by mail as they
    do in Oregon. Finally, to make voting the fundamental
    right that it is, I will propose a Voting Leave law requiring
    employers to give employees a minimum two hours off
    in order to vote. 

    Let's step back for a second and imagine a country in
    which everyone assumes that they will vote on Election
    Day. Imagine elections in which presidential candidates
    know they have to speak to everyone, not just 54% of the
    population. 

    Imagine campaigns in which candidates know that, even
    if they can't raise a lot of money, they will at least have
    their 10 or 15 opportunities to speak to voters on
    television. 

    Imagine campaigns that know that money helps, but also
    know that they can't shut their opponents out completely
    or deceive people, because opponents have free
    access to airwaves and citizens through the Internet will
    be better informed. 

    Imagine campaigns that raise the money they need by
    reaching out to thousands of people who can spare
    $100, instead of courting a few dozen millionaires who
    can give big amounts of soft money. 

    Now imagine what happens when that same country
    sets to work on the problems it faces. Imagine what
    happens when Congressmen and Congresswomen who
    have been elected by most of the citizens, not just 37%
    of them, sit down to work on questions like child poverty
    and improving education. 

    Imagine when elected officials who know that the voters
    are knowledgeable, think about what should be on the
    congressional agenda -- a narrow issue affecting a few
    wealthy companies -- or a big issue like providing health
    insurance for everyone. 

    Imagine what happens when elected officials feel that
    voters have begun to trust democracy again. Imagine the
    responsibility they will feel to preserve that trust and not
    to betray it. 

    It's a world that's as different from the politics of the
    1990s as it is from the election of 1896. But if we can
    see it from here, we can reach it.


