The State of the State

The State of the State

It's 'devolution' time. Do you know who your legislator is?

By JENNIFER HALPERIN

When state Rep. Tom Dart goes out to public affairs functions, he knows he's dealing with an audience that at least cares about the people who hold elected office. "These are people who have made the effort to get out and discuss issues, rather than sit behind their TVs all night," he says.

Which makes it all the more perplexing to the Chicago Democrat when he gets into politically oriented conversations with these constituents and asks who their state representative is. Quite often, he says, the answer is something along the lines of: "I think it's Mel Reynolds."

Given Reynolds' widely publicized legal problems and subsequent resignation from public office, his name may not surface as often now when Chicagoans rack their brains for the names of their state lawmakers. But Dart is sure no matter what name eventually comes to mind, it will be wrong.

"Anyone would be kidding if they said even 30 percent of a district knows who their state representative or state senator is," he says. "That's really shocking, because we're the ones who decide how more than $30 billion of their money is being spent. We're the ones who decide whether their schools open or close, or whether their income taxes go up or down. You would think people might wonder, 'Who are these knuckleheads?'"

How will we hold our state lawmakers accountable, if we don't know who they are?

Who indeed? At a time when the public is reportedly clamoring for "devolution" of government power — moving it out of Washington, D.C., and into the nation's statehouses — state representatives and senators probably hold the fate of the country's neediest citizens in their hands.

Among other things, they will decide how poor people are cared for when they're sick, how they will feed their children and what they must do to receive cash benefits from the government.

"Devolution is coming — and when it does, it's supposed to be a good thing," says Dart. "But how are the people making these decisions going to be held accountable if no one knows who they are?"

In many states, public ignorance of state governmental and political matters is rooted in the way the media covers state legislatures, says John Jackson, who heads the political science department at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale.

"The public knows federal players because they're better covered," he says. "The legislature doesn't get the same kind of attention. "At the same time, local officials don't always need media coverage to get their names known; they're the ones who get called for immediate problems — like trash that has not been picked up, or potholes in the road.

In Illinois, one can gauge media outlets' priorities by the number of reporters they assign to the Statehouse. For example, the Chicago Tribune recently assigned a second full-time reporter to its Springfield bureau after years of relying on a single full-time correspondent for Statehouse coverage. The Chicago Sun-Times, meanwhile, continues to get by with one full-time Springfield writer, as does the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Illinois' third largest paper, the Arlington Heights-based Daily Herald, also has a one-reporter Capitol shop.

By comparison, the Statehouse bureaus of Florida's four major newspapers routinely are stocked with three or more full-time reporters, and up to seven during the legislative session.

Another reason people know so little about state government, says state Rep. Rick Winkel, is that most schools don't make civics a high priority. Many people who have extensive formal education, including college and graduate school, emerge from their schooling ignorant about basic government structures. "Some University of Illinois students had a big protest rally in my office this

8/October 1995/Illinois Issues

spring," says the Champaign Republican. "They were carrying signs saying, 'Reduce defense spending,' and 'Down with the Contract With America and Newt Gingrich.' I finally asked them if they knew the difference between state representatives and members of Congress, and I honestly don't think they did.

"This is a flaw in the educational product," he says. "We're not passing on some very important, vital information regarding the structure of our very government system. It's a failure of education."

Dart agrees. Outside of the Constitution test required to graduate from eighth grade, he says, Illinois students need not prove their knowledge of civic affairs. But while Dart worries about whether such widespread ignorance leaves the door open for corruption in the coming "devolution," Winkel is unconcerned.

"People are already confused," he says. "I don't think a shift away from the federal government is going to add to that confusion. We'll still funnel phone calls to Congressman Tom Ewing's office when necessary, and they'll still send calls about child support here. On the whole, the move toward giving more power to government closer to the people is a good one."

More troubling, he says, is a third reason much of the public doesn't know who represents them at the state level and what is being done with that power; They don't have time.

State Sen. Adeline Geo-Karis, a Republican from Zion, says "sexy" news — like the everlasting O.J. Simpson trial — takes up the little attention most people devote to following current affairs.

"Let's face it — that's what everybody's talking about," she says. "It's what they make time for." That's dangerous for our society, says Winkel.

"I'm the first one who knows how busy you can get with families and soccer practice and volleyball practice," he says. "But if we become too lax and don't pay attention, if we delegate too much, we do so at our own peril. People need to follow events, need to follow the basic structure of their federal, state and local government. It's our responsibility to the democracy we live under."

If more people had that attitude, Winkel could be confident voters in his district know what they've elected him to do. And Rep. Dart ... well, he wouldn't have to worry that anyone will ask him about Catholic schoolgirls and tape-recorded telephone conversations.

October 1995/Illinois Issues/9