The Beltway Vultures

WASHINGTON, D.C.--What would two vultures circling over the same juicy mammal say to each other if they could talk? One New York vulture would say to the other, "Hey buddy, go find your own food," and then attack the reporter who came to cover the fight. A rough game, perhaps, but it's likely that at least five would cross the Hudson and feast on the products of some factory in suburban New Jersey and that the story in the next day's Times would contain a few colorful quotes.

Washington-area vultures would act more politely. "Let me take down your phone number," one of them might say, "and maybe we'll try to work out some kind of agreement." No hurt feelings. No enemies or commitments made. Only a joint press release chock-full of the empty statements that make up reporting on politics here.

Politeness makes sense to the politicos. Neither this city nor its suburbs have any native industry--you won't find many meat-packing plants in Georgetown or in posh Falls Church, Va., Potomac, Md.--and the bird-to-victim ration is high.

The Capital Source lists more than 2,000 law firms, public relations agencies, think tanks, periodicals and interest groups, all of whose employees feed off the power, prestige and federal subsidies thrown off by one president and 535 members of Congress. None of the birds has much actual influence over its prey, and anyone who says anything substantive risks giving offense. Giving offense is a disadvantage to those who read the carrion second.

If you write amidst this practiced deference, though, you risk filling your story with quotations that only give a vague indication of an individual's real thoughts. One sub-cabinet member told me, "My role is to do the best job I can representing the interest of the President Two possible translations: "Everything's being decided at the top." Or, "I won't tell you anything."

But even if vagueness from underling in an organization as hierarchical as the U.S. government isn't surprising, it should be when it comes from interest groups that try to express their views clearly and strategically. When I called one human-rights non-profit to ask whether the organization's position about President Clinton's decision to grant a one-year extension of the most-favored-nation trading status to China had changed over time, a press spokesperson demurred and said with mock wonder, "It's such a complex issue. Hmm." That was it.

More understandable is most lobbyists' steadfast refusal to be caught lobbying. Lobbying is like nose picking--nearly everyone does it, but no one admits to it. Unwilling to associate themselves with the schmoozy hired hands at Hill and Knowlton or Patton, Boggs and Blow, most lobbyists prefer to call themselves "educators" or "legislative activists" instead.

And even the insidest insiders resist the obvious implication that they use networking--rather than the strength of their arguments--to persuade legislators. One Senate committee has frustrated past efforts by the vitamin industry to fend off increased federal regulations. So one industry association hired a former employee of the committee chair to press its case.

The group's president said he'd retained the lobbyist because "we felt he was the right person to get us in to talk to certain Senators and Congressmen." But the Democratic insider thundered against the suggestion that his "valuable connections" would come in handy.

The Washington insider/outsider issue--one of the older cliches in American politics--remains a touchy one. In an Interview, a former multiple-term member of Congress began a sentence with, "As an outsider of government, I..."

And the industry association head, after detailing his reasons for hiring one of D.C.'s best-known lobbyists, cheerfully predicted a popular grass-roots uprising that would show Congress just how much the Republic detests the over-regulation of vitamins.

While most insiders consider insiderdom so distasteful that they try to bury it under a thick layer of gloss, I almost envy the access to information that members of what Newsweek's Meg Greenfield calls the "politico-journalistic elite" enjoy. I'll admit the possibility that I'm not asking the right questions of my interviews or understanding the full meaning of their replies. But seasoned reporters tell me that wading through ten minutes of "squishy" chaff to get a few sentences of pith isn't an unusual experience here.

The only people watching the vultures are other vultures, and flapping around with these courteous scavengers is the only way to know what's going on.

More than 2,000 law firms, p.r. agencies, think tanks, periodicals and interest groups, each feeding on power, prestige and federal subsidies