Where Lawmakers Go When They Die...K Street

This is an issue we will look at later in the semester but it's a major factor for members of Congress. We will refer to it as the "revolving door" when we talk about it in class.

Lawmakers returning to the Capitol are being welcomed back by some familiar faces: former members whose one-year ban on lobbying their old colleagues has just expired. Among them is Jim Davis, a Democrat who left the House in 2007 after an unsuccessful bid for governor of Florida.

His one-year ban ended last week, and now he’s signed up with the lobbying arm of the Holland & Knight law firm. It’s a transition that plenty of House and Senate members make.

Former Sens. Trent Lott (R-Miss.) and John Breaux (D-La.) opened their bipartisan lobbying shop two weeks ago, with Lott just recently having followed a well-worn path from Capitol Hill to K Street. But at a time when Congress is touting new rules aimed at curbing lobbying influence, and Democrats Barack Obama and John Edwards are railing against the persuasion class on the presidential campaign trail, it raises a question about why so many lawmakers do it.

In a softly lit meeting room at Holland & Knight’s office, Davis talked freely about his career path. He was an attorney and state legislator before being elected to the U.S. House in 1996, where he served on the Energy and Commerce Committee and was co-chairman of the moderate New Democrat Coalition.

After losing the governor’s race in 2006, Davis said he took stock of his strengths: an interest in issues, intimate knowledge about how Washington works and a history of advocacy. “The thing that attracted me to politics is an interest in issues and bringing people together. I tried to think what was the most valuable thing I could do,” he said.

And, he concluded, becoming a lawyer-lobbyist “seemed a place where I could do well.” He shifted in his seat when the conversation turned to the accusations from Obama, Edwards and others that lobbyists are a essentially a subspecies, interested only in making money for themselves and bending public policy to fatten the bottom line of corrupt corporations.

“I’ve been a member of Congress, a candidate for governor — I’ve had pretty much everything thrown at me,” Davis said evenly. Besides, there are some pretty obvious upsides to his new K Street gig. The pay is better, and he has got two kids reaching college age.

And unlike Obama, Edwards and the rest of the political class, he doesn’t have to go begging anymore for campaign cash. “Oh, God, yes!” Davis said when asked if he is happier to be the contribution check writer rather than the hungry recipient. He has already been added to his old colleagues’ donation wish lists, but it doesn’t seem as if he’s going to be a soft sell. “I’ve never been a fundraiser. I’m busy building my practice,” he deadpanned when asked if he would be a sympathetic giver.

Davis intends to focus on energy, financial services and health care — three issues that are likely to dominate the Congress as lawmakers take up a major global climate change bill, respond to the housing crisis and debate ways to rein in health costs. Since he has arrived back in Washington, Davis said, he has been struck by how fundamentally the House has been changed by his Democratic Party’s takeover.

One case in point: While on the Energy and Commerce Committee during the Republican era, he said, “when I talked about climate change, they’d turn off the lights and the microphone.” Davis’ entire House career, from 1997 to 2007, was served in lowly minority status. He and his partisan brethren were shut out of virtually any substantive policy discussions at the committee level and on the floor.

The rise of the Democrats has also ushered in a return of powerful committee chairmen, bent on setting their own agendas, holding hearings and hashing out legislative language inside their own domains. The process slows legislation and diffuses power. But it provides greater opportunity for lawmakers and outside interest groups to make their case for changes or deletions.

To be sure, today’s congressional minority has scant influence on the final outcome of those drafting sessions. But the majority hearings at least allow the opposing view to be aired.

In the Republican era, major legislation was routinely rewritten or drafted in the cloistered House Rules Committee by a handful of leaders and their senior aides. The final outcome, Davis asserted, “was more about the political interests or preferences of the leaders.”

Another obvious change is the elevation of his old friends to subcommittee and committee chairmanships. And he’s taken some ribbing for jumping ship just when the partisan tide was turning. “Why’d you leave?” they ask; and “Don’t you wish you were back?” Davis shrugged off any wistfulness.

“I don’t look back,” he said. But he conceded those new leaders will ease his transition into the lobbying world, even if the new ethics rules prevent him from taking them to dinner. “My relationships with members are relationships for life,” he said, noting that he rarely socialized in Washington when he was in the House because he had young children at home.

In fact, he said, the biggest impact the new rules have on him is that he can’t use the House gym anymore. When he was in office, Davis used to go to the gym to change into his running clothes before heading out to the National Mall for a two- or three-mile jog. Now, he’ll change in the law office. “I can still use the Mall,” he said.