PHIL REISMAN

Phil Reisman: Break up Albany's He-Man Women Haters Club

Phil Reisman
preisman@lohud.com
Phil Reisman

Before the ink was even dry on Sheldon Silver's fingerprints, the debate commenced: Should Silver, one of the most powerful figures in New York state politics, voluntarily resign from his Assembly speakership?

Few in the state Legislature are answering that question in the affirmative, least of all the mostly timid collection of Democrats in the Assembly who have kowtowed to Silver for 21 years.

Due process is a nice fig leaf, but they are scared of the man. And they know not to pile on for fear Shelly will beat the rap, return to his seat of omnipotence and gerrymander them out of existence.

Voters generally dislike the state Legislature — and Silver's indictment on federal charges he took kickbacks totaling $4 million further solidifies the public impression that the state capital has indigenous pathogens that somehow breed corruption.

Teddy Roosevelt, who served barely one term in the Assembly, recognized this infectious disease of mendacity and greed early on. When he quit out of frustration in 1884, he advised men of "weak" character to stay away lest they fall prey to temptation.

"A great many men deteriorate very much morally when they go to Albany," he said.

Roosevelt wouldn't be surprised at all by today's continuous perp walk of crooked legislators — and he surely would recognize the likes of Speaker Silver, who commands obedience from the rank-and-file.

Sheldon Silver

Silver is one-third of the leadership triumvirate known as the "Three Men in a Room." The other two are the governor and the Senate majority leader. There are a total of 211 members in both legislative houses, but those three guys run the show.

During his State of the State address, Gov. Andrew Cuomo joked that he, Silver and Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos were the "Three Amigos," which was unfortunate considering Silver was indicted the next day. (The feds always time these things perfectly.)

No other state has this kind of power arrangement. One of the better explanations of how it works was detailed by Christopher Ketcham in a piece he wrote a few years ago in Harper's Magazine titled "The Albany Handshake."

Basically, Ketcham says, there is only one important legislative committee: the Rules Committee, the sluice gate of all bills that are allowed to make it to the floor.

But the leadership controls the Rules Committee. It controls when it meets. It controls what it discusses. And ultimately, it determines what becomes law and, perhaps more to the point, what doesn't become law.

This means that your garden-variety Assembly member or senator is virtually a figurehead — no matter how well-meaning, hardworking and idealistic he or she may be.

Critics of the system say this alleviates the part-time legislators from doing any real work. If they stay in line, vote in lockstep and never complain, they are rewarded with pork to take back to their districts. Plus, they may propose all kinds of legislation that might make sense but everybody knows (wink-wink) will never get past the Three Amigos. They get credit for serving their constituents, except it's often an illusion. For the most part, proposed legislation isn't worth the paper it's written on.

"As a result," Ketcham writes, "the process of lawmaking, is, in its own way, quite functional."

In this sense, the speaker is a fixer.

Silver might survive this latest scandal, but for the sake of argument, let's say he doesn't. Let's say he gets the boot, thereby opening up a huge power vacuum.

Who would take his place?

Well, here's an idea: Elect a woman to be speaker. If it's impossible to blow up the "Three Men in a Room" model, which is akin to the He-Man Women Haters Club in "The Little Rascals," then put a woman in the room with Spanky and his pal, Alfalfa.

There has never been a woman who has served in any of the top three positions. This might present the perfect opportunity to shake things up.

Jeanne Zaino, a professor of political science at Iona College, said "Halleluiah" when I ran the idea past her. "It's about time, or more than a bit past time," she wrote in an email.

Women are under-represented in both legislative houses: about 22 percent in the Assembly and 11 percent in the Senate.

Zaino noted the "record of women in leadership is even worse," and there isn't a long list of possibilities to become speaker.

"That said, race and gender are likely to play a key role in the selection of a new speaker," she said, adding, "Given that (New York City) has a strong hold over the Assembly Democrats, the new speaker will likely come from the NYC."

Put a woman in there, and maybe it will keep things a little more honest. Damn, we've tried everything else.

Reach Phil Reisman at preisman@lohud.com. Twitter: @philreisman