Open The New York Times this morning and there, on the editorial page, is strongly expressed indignation over the FEC's consideration this coming week of an exemption for "grassroots lobbying."  All of the elements of editorials on this subject, from this paper, have been carefully reproduced: references to "loopholes" and their "enablers"; sneers in the direction of partisan machinations and of powerful interests rubbing their hands at the prospect of more free play at corruption; the imagined sounds of campaign treasuries that "groan" under the weight of yet more money raised; the disgust over lawyers and operatives busily looking for ways to exploit any weakness in the law's defenses.  Of all this, there are victims, the voters; and The New York Times speaks for them.

   What is that that the voters need?  Information would help, if voters, as citizens, are to make sense of an argument like the one over the proposed exemption.  The Times won't provide it; it carefully excludes any background--any information at all, really--in the effort to give the proposal the darkest possible rendering and to elicit the most emotional, most adverse reaction from its readers.  It is the Editorial-as-Sham-Issue-Ad, structured in just the same way, for the same reason, that the Times has condemned in its support for political broadcast restrictions.  The editorial works just like this (the borrowed part in quotes):

    The Federal Election Commission is now "creating loopholes for itself".

     Don't believe it? 

     It's true: It now wants to allow a "flood of special interest money" in our campaigns: exactly what big business and union "powerhouses" have long wanted, as they try to "crack" our contribution limits and disclosure rules. 

    But the Commission, "an appointed panel of major party loyalists", is letting it happen: answering to the demands of its party masters.

    Shouldn't our FEC be "defending the law, not subverting it?"

    Call the FEC: tell it the "last thing voters need" is more special interest money.

   Of course, the 30 second broadcast ad can be defended in part as working, necessarily, within and against its own limitations.  Little time is available for the message, which rules out extensive exposition.   A hard sell, selective in its use of information, may be the only feasible one available.  The audience is highly varied, some members more informed and engaged than others, and a simple point or two, pungently stated, stands the best chance of attracting attention and achieving some peruasive impact.

   The Times' excuse?  It has none, except one, observed in the political advertising for which the paper has such contempt.  The paper seeks to make the most of its readers' ignorance; and it is confident, too, that this ignorance leaves the way clear for an effective appeal to popular prejudice.  After all, who among the readership of the Times does not know--is not absolutely sure--that the government is firmly in the control of interests and that for every reform law passed, there is a natural, restless coalition actively working to undo it?  When this is so well known, what does it profit a reader to have information and argument?

Bob Bauer