Massachusetts: Whatever happened to meaningful ethics reform?

Lawmakers’ ‘interest’ in casinos
Whatever happened to meaningful ethics reform?
By Joan Vennochi | Globe Columnist

BEACON HILL is giving new meaning to the term “naked self-interest.’’

As a six-member legislative panel finalizes details of the Bay State’s high-stakes casino bill, the House member leading negotiations declared that he’s inclined to oppose any efforts to block lawmakers from working in the casino industry for a year after they leave office.

“It’s my sense that this matter is so important that we should not preclude the best and the brightest from being eligible even if those people would be in government presently,’’ said Democratic Representative Joseph Wagner of Chicopee, according to the State House News Service.

Wow. The casino industry can’t manage one measly year in Massachusetts without assistance from the brilliant minds who make up the Legislature?

The matter that seems most important to Wagner is giving lawmakers quick and easy access to a future piece of the casino action. That and other important issues are being worked out behind closed doors, without any prying eyes, per unanimous vote of the conference committee - and with the apparent blessing of House Speaker Robert DeLeo and Senate President Therese Murray. One provision could bring back happy hour to bars and restaurants. Another amendment addresses who will get to vote on a potential resort casino in East Boston.

Committee members say they are hopeful they can complete their secret negotiations by Nov. 16. That’s when they are scheduled to begin a seven-week recess - and coincidentally, just around when former House Speaker Salvatore F. DiMasi is scheduled to begin serving an eight-year prison sentence.

The symbolism is worth contemplating.

The conviction of a once-powerful speaker of the House on political corruption charges was supposed to change the culture on Beacon Hill. It would trigger more transparency and less self-dealing under the Golden Dome, or so the theory went.

DiMasi — who opposed expanded gambling — was found guilty of accepting kickbacks in return for pushing state business to a computer software company. Now, just as DiMasi heads to prison, Bay State lawmakers are finalizing ways to speed up the revolving door that connects them to employment and big bucks.

It makes you wonder: Whatever happened to meaningful ethics reform? And why, post-DiMasi, is it still the same old depressing business as usual on Beacon Hill?

Not every lawmaker is a crook. But there are all kinds of ways to undermine democracy and people’s faith in it.

DiMasi did it one way. With all the secrecy and backroom dealing around the casino debate, the current Beacon Hill leadership is doing it another way. Instead of seeing the DiMasi narrative as a cautionary tale, lawmakers defended his honor. Then they defiantly defended their own, even as their words and actions undercut it.

A few weeks ago, a proposal to impose a five-year ban on former lawmakers taking casino jobs triggered an uproar on the Senate floor. It led to another secret debate, which ended in a watered-down, one-year restriction. The rationale behind the change was that a stronger prohibition would feed the public’s perception that lawmakers can’t be trusted.

“We’re creating a presumption that the people in this body cannot operate with integrity,’’ griped Democratic Senator Gale Candaras of Wilmington.

With DiMasi the third House speaker to be indicted, and several ex-senators charged with crimes, consider that presumption well-cemented. Nor was it shaken by an angry declaration from Democratic Senator Stephen Brewer of Barre that “98 percent’’ of all the people he has served with are hard workers who served honorably.

No one on Beacon Hill seems to understand the cynicism or worry about debunking it. Not DeLeo. Not Murray. Not Governor Deval Patrick.

The governor barely blinked when it turned out that Gregory Bialecki, the secretary of housing and economic development, who is the voice of Patrick’s pro-casino policy, owned stock in two Las Vegas gambling companies that want to build casinos in Massachusetts. Bialecki sold the shares only after the Globe questioned him about it, acting with what Patrick’s spokeswoman defined as “an abundance of caution.’’

When it comes to bringing casinos to Massachusetts, there’s an abundance of something going on. But it’s not caution, and it seems far removed from the public interest.