Dr. Cutler came to the meeting well prepared. He had asked the right people to arrange the meeting, and he had lined up a number of legislators to vouch for him. When the meeting began, he was careful not to launch straight away into a litany of requests and supporting arguments. The venerated figure who now sat before him would enjoy a healthy dose of small talk before getting down to business. He would likely value the opportunity to take the measure of the man who had come so far to make his acquaintance and to ask him for a favor. Thus Cutler opened the conversation by raising matters about which he and his host shared a common interestâscience and philosophy. The strategy paid off: Cutlerâs host relaxed, enjoyed the conversation, and took an immediate liking to him.
In addition to learning about the elderly statesman, Cutler had been active in doing a different sort of homework: He had met with other influential officialsâmany of less intellectual scope than the gentleman he now engaged in conversation. He had been able to convince these people that his project had the potential to benefit them either personally or by enriching their constituents, or both. He knew he could count on them for support should they be consulted.
Little more than two centuries after the Reverend Doctor Manasseh Cutler met Benjamin Franklin under a mulberry tree in the latterâs garden, a much less cordial meeting was unfolding in the office of Rep. Fortney âPeteâ Stark, a California Democrat. The issue under consideration was a request from President George H. W. Bushâs administration for an extension of a tax credit designed to stimulate scientific research conducted abroad. Under the provision, Section 861 of the Internal Revenue Code, companies could reduce their U.S. taxes by an amount equal to the taxes paid to foreign countries in which they were doing research and development.a The extension was to be included in the 1990 deficit reduction bill.
Among the independent lobbyists leading the charge for the companies was Stuart Eizenstat, a prominent Democrat and a former high-ranking official in President Jimmy Carterâs administration. Eizenstat was this day leading a sizable delegation of scientists, many of them under contract to the beneficiary companies, on rounds of visits to congressional offices.
The meeting with Stark was confrontational from the beginning. The representative landed the first shot. âStuart, I thought you were bringing two people,â reports author Jeffrey Birnbaum. The frequently brusque Stark did not offer seats to his overflow guests. Instead, he instructed the distinguished researchers to âstand or sit on the floor.â
Eizenstat and Stark sparred for a while; then after a few additional insults from Stark, Eizenstat landed his own jab. According to Birnbaum, âEizenstat had had enough.⌠He decided to remind Stark that he [Stark] had helped to keep the R&D credit alive during the tax bill of 1986. âYou were really one of our chief champions in 1986.ââ
Stark, long a critic of the pharmaceutical industry, noted that the big drug companies were among the major supporters of the extension and accused Eizenstat of allying himself âwith some squirrelly characters.⌠Youâve got bad companies, thatâs all.â
Birnbaumâs report ends with this exchange:
âWe shouldnât be blinded by your problems with the pharmaceuticals,â Eizenstat said, asserting a new air of authority. I have worked here [Washington, D.C.] on and off for twenty years. We have to compete on innovation.⌠Any person sitting on Mount Olympus would want this done.âŚâ
Stark pulled back after Eizenstatâs rebuttal, and they began to talk like two old political pros.âŚ
âLetâs talk politics,â Stark continued. âThe practical politics are that if you donât do all of the extenders ⌠you donât do any of them.âŚâ
âSo,â Stark continued, âyou guys should be praying for a big tax bill. Thatâs when you have a chance.â
âThatâs what we are praying for,â Eizenstat conceded and then added with a smile, âLet me just thank you for your previous championing of this.â 1
So what is the point here?
Separated by two centuries, lobbying in distinct political venues, for entirely different purposes, one in a comfortable setting and the other in a much more hostile environment, Cutler and Eizenstat each understood the first rule of lobbying: Know your customer. Each had done his homework and had done it well. Each had acquired a solid fix on the person with whom he would be doing business.
In Cutlerâs case the result was straightforward, at least to the extent that he was able to meet with Franklin. The two gentlemen had never set eyes on each other before their mulberry tree meeting, yet, by the sparse accounts available, the meeting seems to have gone off swimmingly. This result was no accident; Cutler had taken the time to learn what Franklin liked and did not like when encountering strangersâespecially strangers who would be asking a favor of him. Before entering the garden he understood that Franklin was not a get-right-to-the-point person. He knew that it would be necessary to gain Franklinâs confidence, and he understood that some discussion about matters scientific would move his meeting with Franklin in the right direction. Whether or not Franklin ever did follow up is a matter lost to history; but we do know that the doctor from Connecticut was able to have his audience with the doctor from Pennsylvaniaâone of the most celebrated men of his age.
Preparation for the EizenstatâStark meeting must have been of a very different stripe. Because the two men had known each other for many years before Eizenstat escorted the delegation of scientists into the representativeâs office, some of the groundwork had already been done. Eizenstat was well prepared for a sharp-tongued, less than hospitable, welcome. He knew his own arguments and the congressmanâs history on the issue at hand, and he knew that Pete Stark would bully the daylights out of him if he were to show weakness or indicate that he was in any way not prepared. So Eizenstat stood toe to toe, gave as good as he got, and managed to get Stark to back off, just enough to create a reasonably comfortable atmosphere for the rest of the meeting.
One more thingâone might call it âa lifetime of preparationâ: Eizenstat was extraordinarily well respected among policy elites in Washington. He could afford to stand up to Stark; he did not have to worry about being tossed out of the office.
Back to the first rule, the fundamental understanding so well shared by Manasseh Cutler and Stuart Eizenstat: Lobbyists (or any sales people for that matter) must know their customer. During each session of Congress, 535 elected officials, supported by countless staffers, go about the business of making policy for the United States. Each of those 535 members approaches the assignment in a different way, with different experiences, different likes and dislikes, different priorities, different levels of ability, and different needs. Adding to the mix are the ever-changing political, policy, and private pressures that bear upon each legislator and each staff person. No lobbyist can account for all of these variables; some things about policymakers they cannot know. But lack of information does not change the rules; it merely adds to the challenge of the work.
Keeping these thoughts in mind, I have predicated this book on a simple principle: No one knows the customers better than the customers. As much as I am able to do, I permit them to speak for themselves.
The Interviews and the Survey
The material for this book is drawn from personal interviews that I conducted with forty-four veteran lawmakers, seventeen current and former congressional staff members, eight experienced lobbyists, and four members of the Executive Branch Career Serviceâin other words, bureaucrats. In all, eighty-one interviews were conducted. I contacted some subjects two or more timesâmost in person but some by telephone. As noted in the preface, this work was supplemented by extensive âsoaking and pokingââinformal conversations with current and past staffers and legislators.2 Many of these conversations, a number of them lengthier than the formal interviews, occurred over a sandwich in one of the congressional cafeterias.b
I also mailed more than 200 surveys to former members of Congress, both senators and representatives. Because my goal was to maximize the number of responses, I assured recipients that they could complete the document within ten minutes. For this reason the survey was limited in scope; it was not designed to collect data on all issues covered in this study. Rather, questions were structured to perform two functions: first, to provide further information on responses from interviewees that I had found surprising, and, second, to expand upon my information base for subjects that several interviewees found particularly interesting. Because I used the survey solely as an information tool to help round out my interview-based research, and because it was in no way scientifically constructed, I do not include the data generated from it in this book (though in a limited number of instances I do note responses to specific questions).
Fifty-four former members were kind enough to complete and return the survey. Almost 20 percent of these accepted my invitation, enclosed with the survey, to volunteer for a follow-up telephone interview, several of which proved to be extremely productive. In all, 127 research subjects, not including the âsoaking and pokingâ contributors, produced information used in this study.
Each of the former members and staffers who were interviewed, with only a few exceptions, had worked on Capitol Hill for at least four terms (eight years)âmost for a longer period. And although the full cohort includes five former legislators who left Congress as early as 1990, I place primary reliance on ârecent formersââthose who retired from Congress between 2000 and 2008. There are three reasons for selecting this cohort.
First, experience in interviewing both current and former members and staff has taught me that formers, especially former members, tend to be more forthcoming than the people now sitting. One former member paraphrased an old Washington adage: âIf you donât want to see it on the front page of the Washington Post, donât say it.â Sitting members are well aware of the risks and protect themselves accordingly. Thus, the extent to which a researcher can depend on them for uncompromised observations about what works and what does not work in the lobbyistâmember exchange is limited.
Two examples help to illustrate the case: the importance of socializing and the presence of the ârevolving doorâ between Congress and the lobbyistsâ world. Formers were outspoken on both of these subjects in ways that could not have been expected of sitting lawmakersâespecially in the current political environment that has been so deeply affected by the AbramoffâDeLay scandals.c Theyâthe formersâwere virtually unanimous in their belief that Congress has gone too far in curtailing and, in some cases, eliminating these activities. They see benefits to the commonweal in providing legislators and lobbyists with opportunities to socialize in a âreasonable way.â A relaxed social environment allows participants to take the measure of one another and to pursue ideas at lengthâin contrast to the frenetic pace of the congressional office or the theatrical environment of a public hearing. The formers also see revolving-door lobbyists as being helpful on both procedural and policy matters. The time they have spent on the Hill has taught them how to be on point and efficient with membersâ time. (We will look more closely at these matters in later chapters.)
Second, because so many of the interviewees had served within the past few years, it is likely that their views on what constitutes effective lobbying are consistent with the thinking of current members. Indeed, I found no evidence to refute this view.
The third reason is time. No productive first-round interview for this book lasted less than one hour; many interviews were longer.d Former members had the time to give, and they gave it generouslyâin some cases on more than one occasion. It was more difficult to get time with sitting members. Although many sitting members professed and frequently demonstrated interest in the project, they were often pressed to move on to their next obligation. Getting a half-hour with them was a bonus.
Adequate interview time with the formers permitted impromptu digressions, second- and third-order questions, and the luxury of dwelling on a topic in which the former member or staffer had a special interest. Although I came into each interview with a predetermined opening question (âWhat, in your mind, makes for a good or a bad lobbyist?â) and follow-up questions, I let the interviews go where the subjects took them. I was more than willing to sacrifice breadth for depth. When an interviewee became passionate about a position or began to recount on-point, often-colorful, anecdotes, I listened carefully. I was especially attentive when a former added nuance on top of nuance, or suggested that I needed to supplement my investigation with an additional line of questions. This was welcome advice that I almost always heededâespecially since many of these advisers had been highly regarded lawmakers during their tenure on the Hill. They knew what they were talking about.
Research Regime, Significance, and Scope of the Investigation
This book is largely qualitative. There is a reason for this: Much scholarship and journalistic reporting that purports to analyze what contributes to lobbying effectiveness relies on independent variables that are easily quantifiableâfor example, numbers of lobbying visits to congressional offices, amounts of money contributed, and support by coalitions. This work is valuable, providing much to think about as we evaluate the effectiveness of lobbying tools or the normative questions that are raised when clearly self-interested, often well-heeled organizations attempt to insert themselves into the policymaking process.
But in many cases the proverbial cart seems to be ahead of the horse. There are two unknowns that confound students of interest groups and lobbying. The first: What is it that is discussed behind the closed doors that shield lobbyists and members as they discuss policy, procedure, and politics? This question remains a mystery to all but those who are privileged to be inside those doors. We can conjecture, but we cannot know what has been said, what has been accepted, or what has been rejected.
Nor can we know what, if any, action a legislator has taken in response to a lobbyistâs requests. This is the second unknown. Scholars such as Richard Hall, Michael Malbin, and Frank Sorauf have written about informal (Hallâs term) legislative activity.3 Informal activity occurs behind the scenes, and there is no formal record of it. It includes phone calls, private notes, and one-on-one conversations that beget equally obscure but not insignificant resultsâa change in the wording of a bill not yet introduced, a decision to withhold an amendment entirely, or, perhaps, a chairâs go-ahead to insert new language in a committee report. No political scientist, no regulator, no journalist is there when these communications are made and subsequent agreements are reached. It is the classic black box.
If we accept the premise that lobbyists function as a fourth branch of government, or something akin to that, then penetrating the black box is important work ...