Chasing Rats: Brief Thoughts on Eliot Spitzer and the Financial Industry

Eliot Spitzer, disgraced former Governor and Attorney General of New York State, has managed to turn himself into quite the financial industry expert, if one uses the number of television appearances he has made as an indicator of his expertise. As well as television, Wall Street is also a frequent topic of Spitzer's at his Slate column.

The most recent television appearance Spitzer has made on the topic as of the time of writing was on CBS's This Morning, on 11 January 2010. Spitzer, readers will be glad to know, confirmed that the anger at seemingly excessive Wall Street bonuses was “legitimate,” because tax dollars were used to fund the bonuses. (I reacted by breathing a little easier. I had worried that my anger was not legitimate, until Eliot Spitzer confirmed that it was.)

Spitzer says this as though there's people outside of the financial industry and, to a degree, Fox News, who disagree with him. (And even with Fox News, it depends on which conservative face they are putting on that day: Ayn Rand's corporatist capitalism or Pat Buchanan's pitchfork populism.)

Even Governor David Paterson, who turned a 9 December 2009 speech at the Museum of American Finance into an odd pep talk to Wall Street, probably agrees with Spitzer about the bonuses. Paterson, however, thinks he can get more mileage out of taxing the bonuses for State revenue than he can by complaining about them.

In the same CBS interview, Spitzer also let the world know that he has caught on to the fact that the Bush Administration's financial industry bailout (referred to in policy wonk jargon as the “Trouble Asset Relief Program” or TARP), has, as implemented, effectively socialized risk, and privatized profits. In other words, we all put up the money when things go poorly, but when things are going well, suddenly Capitalism kicks in, and the individual's profits are the individual's profits. We all share in the risks together, not the profits. It's grand to know that Spitzer has caught onto something that actual financial experts were talking about awhile ago.

However, I, for one, have long suspected that Spitzer actually played a role in the troubles (for want of a better term) on Wall Street, due to actions he took as New York State Attorney General. Not that he conspired with Wall Street, not that he participated directly, but rather that his actions pushed things further underground, where they could flourish all-the-more.

My argument goes something like this.

The Bush Administration, acting within a lax regulatory framework that I have read can be traced in part to the Clinton Administration, basically allowed the financial industry to do pretty much anything it wanted. Complicit in this of course was Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan, who openly praised the overly complex financial time bombs known as derivatives. We now know that derivatives were one of the main sources of the financial industry collapse.

For more than a decade, the former Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan has fiercely objected whenever derivatives have come under scrutiny in Congress or on Wall Street. “What we have found over the years in the marketplace is that derivatives have been an extraordinarily useful vehicle to transfer risk from those who shouldn’t be taking it to those who are willing to and are capable of doing so,” Mr. Greenspan told the Senate Banking Committee in 2003. “We think it would be a mistake” to more deeply regulate the contracts, he added.

See this New York Times article, the source of that quote, for more.

At about the same time, then Attorney General Spitzer was emerging as the “Sheriff of Wall Street,” pursuing the crimes of the financial industry with a driven intensity Eliot Ness would have envied.

It is frighteningly easy to imagine that Spitzer had prophetic powers, that his pursuit of financial industry misdeeds foretold the economic crisis. And certainly I have little doubt that Spitzer, with his undeniably sharp and keen intellect, had some idea of the obvious parallels between the lead-up to the 1929 Stock Market Crash and the lead-up to the 2008 Stock Market Crash. (Then again, however, so would anyone else who cared to read John K. Galbraith's great book The Great Crash, 1929 sometime during 2005 through 2008.)

(It is, of course, likely Spitzer's embittered pursuit of Wall Street that forms the basis of the media's re-imagining of him as some kind of financial industry expert.)

Consider this analogy, however. If the exterminator's rat poison is taken away, can you effectively kill the rats by chasing them into the walls where they can breed in privacy? No, you cannot. Rather, the exterminator needs his poison back, or needs traps.

Bush and Greenspan took away the poison. Spitzer, I would suggest, chased the rats into the walls. At the very least, I find it doubtful that Spitzer's sheriff act helped matters. Even Thomas Friedman in his book The World is Flat (at least in the edition of that book that I happened to read), admitted that Spitzer's actions had driven certain Wall Street analytical jobs overseas. Traps are slow going, and aren't as much fun as the chase. Same for poison. But you can kill a lot more rats than you can by chasing them.

The financial industry is a noble and necessary one. As long as there has been money, there has been a financial industry.

But, unregulated, it just becomes a rat breeding colony. And when you pursue the bad actions in that industry, of which I'm sure there are many more than we know about, using legal tools designed to chase common street criminals, all that happens is you chase the rats into the wall, where they are safer, and can breed in the dark.

The truth is that the financial sector doesn't need an exterminator, or a sheriff. It is telling that the most prominent current book about Spitzer was entitled Spoiling for a Fight. This was not the approach America needed on Wall Street. Rather, America needed "adult supervision" of the financial industry.

I find it telling that one potential for such an adult, U.S. Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, is one of many current objects of Spitzer's ire.

Spitzer thinks that Geithner, who then was at the New York Federal Reserve, either had a role in the troubles at AIG, or at least did not help. And Spitzer may well prove correct. But is anything Geithner might or might not have done at the New York Fed really the source of Spitzer's ire? Or is it the fact that Geithner is an adult, and the intelligent, spoiled child can always see the adult's faults more clearly than he can his own?

I don't know exactly how to test my theory that Spitzer's rat-chasing games hurt more than helped. I will leave it to Historians, I suppose. Perhaps one day it will make a fine exhibit at the Museum of American Finance.

-The Albany Exile

Hollow

Reports indicate that Senate Minority Dean Skelos is rejecting a deal with the Majority Democrats that would have potentially granted Committee Chairmanships to around 4 of his Republican Senators.

At the time of writing, just one of these Minority Chairmanships, of four that we know of that were being floated, is still in-play (Senator Maziarz, to chair the Standing Committee on Energy).

In a piece posted on the Albany Times Union's Website, Senator Skelos had this to say:

Senator Sampson, as the Democrats' new leader, believes that offering committee chairmanships to a few minority senators will change all that {the negative impact of one-party rule}. While well intentioned, his offer rings hollow.

Hollow. A very interesting word to use.

Elsewhere, Leader Skelos said:

“Senator Sampson’s proposal to appoint new chairs should be considered along with these other recommendations, by the bipartisan committee, before any action is taken," Skelos said.

"Our conference strongly believes that additional reforms must be made in a comprehensive way and not in a piecemeal fashion."

"We fought hard for the reforms that were enacted in July," Skelos continued. "We will continue to push for internal reforms, as well as other governmental reforms to make this Legislature and our government more responsive to the people’s needs."

And Senator Bonacic, in the same article, said something very similar:

"Chairmanships are positive. However, as the Majority repeatedly has said, real reform is not about titles. In fact, titles can sometimes mask dysfunction, since they create a presumption of bi-partisanship, when one may not truly exist. Chairmanships do not equate to reform."

The above quotes point to one of two stated reasons for the refusal: “Good government.” Reform of the Senate must be “real,” and committee chairmanships are a “hollow” half-measure. Another reason, however, was pointed to by Skelos spokesperson John McCardle, in the same article linked to above.

"Members would love to be chairs again," McArdle said. "But I think they all understand as a conference that there needs to be a sense that we're all in this together."

"(Skelos) has spoken to all of them {the Republican Senators}. He's not speaking for anyone, but everyone agrees a comprehensive solution is better than something done individually."

Party unity. Really, this is all the Senate Republicans have going for them, all they can offer, all they bring to the table.

Citing the “good government” reasons described above is, I believe, at best disingenuous of Leader Skelos. Anyone who knows anything about how legislatures operate, be it the U.S. Congress or the New York State Legislature or the Senate of Ancient Rome, knows that the committee system, by whatever name it is known, is critical to the operation of a legislative chamber. The idea of a committee system is simply to spare every lawmaker having to read every bill. On non-major issues, you can often simply trust your colleague who chairs the relevant committee.

Further, one of several insights reached by Political Scientist Joseph M. Bessette in his book The Mild Voice of Reason: Deliberative Democracy and American National Government is that true deliberation over public policy, at least in the U.S. Congress, tends to take place mostly at the committee level and below, mostly outside the public eye. (I should note that this statement is at best an oversimplification of the insights achieved by Bessette's in his complex and insightful work.)

Exactly how critical committees are in the legislative process depends of course on the legislative body and the particular policy at stake. And, of course, the ultimate say over what comes up for a vote, and usually what passes, is up to the leader of the chamber. No amount of “reform” can change the basic fact of majority rule in pretty much any legislature that is recognizable as such.

Under these real world conditions, minority committee chairmanships fit pretty much any reasonable definition of “real” reform. Committee chairmanships represent a real impact on policy outcomes, both directly (through influencing what bills can be considered by the whole Senate) and indirectly (by placing the Republican Senators in the most logical place for policy deliberation, where their ideas can be heard and matter).

Senator Skelos calls this “hollow.” A realistic chance for real, tangible influence is “hollow.” But what else is it that legislatures are supposed to do, if not legislate?

Democratic Conference Leader John Sampson's argument in favor of such an arrangement, also posted on the Albany Times Union's Website, is infinitely more convincing than is Senator Skelos's argument against it, if only because Sampson's argument recognizes that legislatures primarily exist to legislate.

Now, {wrote Leader Sampson} through the offering of bipartisan appointments to committee chairmanships, the Republican minority conference will enjoy an unprecedented level of involvement in the legislative process. Their constituents, as well as the entire state will realize a Senate more representative of all New Yorkers.

When the Republicans held the Majority in the State Senate, and they offered a single Democratic Senator a committee chairmanship (Senator Carl Kruger, Social Services), the Republicans hailed the move as unprecedented and bipartisan. If one Chairmanship was supposed to be good enough for the Democrats back then, why is more than one not good enough for the Republicans now?

Based on what I have seen, and based on Senator Skelos's own words cited above, I believe the answer is that legislation is not Leader Skelos's goal.

And thus we return to party unity. Leader Skelos appears to see unity not as a means to an end (as a tool to be used to influence policy), but as an end by itself. All he and his Republicans have going for them is party unity, or at least the appearance thereof. To run even a minor risk of losing unity, even if it is for the sake of doing the business that legislatures are supposed to do in the first place, is unacceptable politically to the Republicans.

I also cannot help but wonder if what Leader Skelos is really after is a higher central staff allocation. This presents him with a potentially large patronage base, and could allow him to increase his influence in New York State's shattered, increasingly irrelevant Republican Party. Central staff is nice. The Republicans, at least initially, were denied even the allocation that they granted to the Democrats, the Minority Conference staff budget having gone down from $7 million a year to $3 million a year, according to this New York Times article.

Senator Skelos's desire for more staff is certainly understandable. But, staff allocation should not be seen as an end. Nor should party unity. Both should be seen as different means to an end: Influence over policy. A Committee Chairmanship, or two or three or four, is another such means. It is most definitely not "hollow."

Whether or not a deal that involves Minority Chairmanships is ever reached, Leader Skelos has already tipped his hand. Based on his own statements, he appears to see the central activity of legislatures, enacting and influencing legislation, as “hollow.” This does not speak well for what he might do with the staff allocation he wants if he ever gets it.

A Reaction to the Gay Marriage Vote

The outcome of this vote was sad, but predictable.

I have a few messages for several parties.

• Firstly, to the supporters of liberal causes in New York State
Democrats are not automatically your friends. Flipping the Senate has not done you all that much good. The Senate Democrats have failed you.

• To Governor Paterson
Flipping the Senate did not help you. It has in fact hurt. You lack a foil now, you lack someone you are able to blame things on. It's just you, Speaker Silver, and the cowardly, incompetent people you helped to put in place in the Senate. They did not help you balance the budget, they did not help you pass gay marriage. Blaming failure on those of your own political party just does not work as well.

The Senate Democrats have failed you.

• To Senator Duane
You should have gone along with the Skelos-Espada coup, the bill would have stood more of a chance a few months back. Your personal distaste for Senator Espada pales in importance by comparison to the issue of gay marriage.

Your colleagues have failed you, and it is not only the Republicans' fault now.

• And, finally, to Republicans in the State Senate
I find it likely that many of you are basing your nay votes on the a misinterpretation of the events of the North Country Congressional race. This is a strategic error on your part, and a very bad one at that.

If this trend continues, if you continue to take your marching orders from Glenn Beck, I would be surprised if there were not a price to be paid.

The Attorney General's Pension Management Proposal

• The Bill That Isn't

The first thing to know about Attorney General Cuomo's pension bill is that it doesn't exist, at least not in public. Or if it does, it hides extremely well.

The bill was announced on 8 October 2009, in this Press Release of the Office of the Attorney General. Entitled the “Taxpayers’ Reform for Upholding Security and Transparency” (T.R.U.S.T.) Act, the bill's main feature is the replacement of the State Comptroller as “sole trustee” of the Common Retirement Fund (CRF) with a Board.

But the bill doesn't appear to actually exist yet, as far as I can tell. I can find no bill number, no public language. (And when I say “exist” I mean “exist in public.”) Senator Foley, alleged to be the bill's prime Senate sponsor, doesn't have the bill on his introduction record, and a search of two New York State bill databases, here and here, with the search terms “Transparency” and “Retirement” (separate searches) comes up with no relevant legislation. The former term I used because, often, when a bill has a popular name, like this one does, the name will appear in the bill's first Section, or in the Sponsor's Memorandum in Support. And the latter term because the bill's likely to amend New York State's Retirement and Social Security Law.

Either way, the point is that those searches were likely to have found the bill, if it were introduced. I must conclude therefore that the bills are not yet introduced. The Attorney General has spent a lot of time and money drumming up support for his bill, in suburban downstate, and on Long Island, and in Rochester, and in Western New York, but not one of these Press Releases features a bill number. The Attorney General has managed to build a lot of bipartisan support for a bill that does not, as far as I can tell, actually exist.

If someone knows the bill number, please E-Mail me with it at Albany_Exile at Yahoo.com. I'd love to take a look at it.

We are not assessing a bill, as there isn't one. Rather we're assessing a concept.

The best-known piece of this proposal, and apparently its centerpiece, is the proposal to dump the “sole trusteeship” of the CRF and replace it with management by a board of directors. So that's what this article is devoted to.


• Backdrop

The CRF is the pool of money that pays for the pensions of most State and local employees, including pretty much everyone except for most teachers. Teachers are covered by the fund of the New Yorks State Teachers' Retirement System (NYSTRS). The CRF has the money from 2 separate retirement systems, one for police, one for everyone who is neither a cop, nor a firefighter (they seem to be in the police system), nor a teacher.

The NYSTRS fund is managed by a Board, the CRF is run by the State Comptroller as a sole trustee.

The Attorney General's policy concern for this issue arises from multiple scandals that have arisen revolving around former Comptroller Alan Hevesi.

I make no claims to know the facts of the various Hevesi matters in any kind of detail. In broad terms, however, the scandals revolve around the exchange of money or employment of certain individuals to encourage certain pension fund investments. Effectively it's a form of lobbying the Comptroller to invest in certain ways. Some of these lobbyists were honest, some less so. The system has come to be known as “pay to play.” The investments themselves may have been legitimate in many cases, but the system itself is obviously questionable at best.

Some allege that the sole trusteeship system, which places sole responsibility for a rather large pile of money with one person, encourages corruption by providing a readily available point of entry for those who would engage in corrupt practices. The Attorney General thus proposes establishing multiple points of entry. The bill has this as its specific, explicit purpose. The following is a quote from the Press Release linked to above:

“For decades, the State pension fund has been weakened and corrupted by the sole trustee model,” said Attorney General Cuomo. “The model has allowed pay-to-play to flourish in a system meant to protect the retirement accounts of thousands of hard-working public employees. To put it simply - the model doesn't work. It’s about as sensible as having a single lock on Fort Knox. Today’s legislation will ensure that the fate of our public retirement fund isn’t decided by one individual, and that the entire system is rid of the kind of pay-to-play that infected and derailed it in the first place.”

That's the policy purpose of the bill. Obviously it's quite possible, and I'd go so far as to say it's likely, that the bill also has a political purpose: To undermine the current State Comptroller (Thomas DiNapoli, a potential rival, though for what I can't really guess), and add to Attorney General Cuomo's emerging reputation as a fighter of corruption in all its forms.


• The Sole Trusteeship

Having established that the explicit, deliberate purpose of the Cuomo proposal (we can't quite call it a bill yet, regrettably, as seen above), is to lessen corruption, judging the bill is thus heavily contingent upon its ability to do just that. That's only fair.

The CRF may or may not be unique among public pension funds in having a sole trustee, but it surely is at least nearly so. As described above the teachers' retirement fund, the NYSTRS, is managed by a board, as are the 5 pension funds for New York City employees. Jun Peng, in his 2009 book State and Local Pension Fund Management, does refer to the CRF's sole trusteeship system as “unique” (page 93). So, even allowing for the fact that Peng might be wrong, at the very least we can fairly say that the sole trusteeship system is very rare.

Now keep in mind I am fairly certain that in most cases it isn't the Comptroller actually running the CRF on a day-to-day basis. He likely has staff who does most of that. In fact they are likely career civil servants who are highly-paid, highly-skilled, very good at what they do, and largely invisible to us. But the point is that the Comptroller is responsible for the fund. (Such terms as “trustee” and “fiduciary” are made to imply responsibility as much as they are made to imply day-to-day duties.) And, further, that he could steer investments in certain directions regardless of what his likely-capable staff tells him.

I went through some of the writings on management of pension funds. For the most part, the writers assume it is a board or committee of some kind managing the fund. The sole trusteeship is rare enough that the issue of the relative advantages and disadvantages of sole trusteeship versus board management hasn't come up all that much. That doesn't mean, however, that the issue hasn't come up at all.

In 1968, a conference on pension fund management was held, and in 1969 a book was produced based on this conference, with the awkward title of, Pension Fund Investment Management: Proceedings of the CFA Research Seminar, Sep 13-14, 1968, Charlottesville, VA. For some reason, when this book was published, all the conference participants were assigned 3-letter false names, and those false names were then randomly-rotated, thus keeping everyone anonymous. (Why people would participate in a conference and think they had some kind of expectation of anonymity is completely beyond me.)

At a panel discussion at that conference, the following relevant exchange was had:

“HAP: Isn't the conclusion that somebody should act alone, either the company or the bank? It's a joint management that runs into trouble, it's the centralization of responsibility that produces the best results in performance, whether it be company-operated or bank-operated.”

“VAL: The closer you get to one man doing it, the better. Get away from the committee. You've got to get down to one man. Get the right man, give him responsibility, and let him go. Not only in investment, but in anything you do.”

“KEN: That's true. That works in the bank too. You must get away from the committee system.”

“TED: The investments that two people are going to agree on, are going to be insipid investments. They are the ones that are not going to be very bad or very good. But the investments that they're going to disagree on may be those that make a lot of money.” (Pages 10-11)

On page 12, all of the participants in the panel again agree that unitary management of a pension fund is best.

Jun Peng's 2009 work has already been mentioned. The following quote is telling:

This brief story of the New York pension system offers two lessons. First, the unique pension governance structure [the sole trusteeship] limits to some extent the reduction in pension contribution by the State government, which can be best appreciated in comparison with New Jersey. The independence of the New York pension system trustee allows it to be more willing to challenge any government attempt to reduce pension contribution. Second, even such independence cannot render the system impervious to the temptation of pension contribution reduction in times of strong investment return and, thus, the risk of volatility to state and local government operating budgets. (Page 164)

Peng, mostly by accident, does point to a specific disadvantage of the sole trusteeship system, which he curiously fails to consider seriously. On Pages 162-163 he considers then-Comptroller H. Carl McCall's reduction of local government employer pension fund contributions to near-zero levels, which occurred in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Peng considers this move solely in the context of that the fund was doing quite well at the time, and didn't necessarily need a great amount of money from the employers. Investment returns were funding the system quite well. He fails to consider, however, the obvious fact that Comptroller McCall was preparing for a run at the Governorship in 2002, for which the support of perpetually cash-strapped local government officials would surely have helped.

Based on these writings, it appears as though the best thing that can be expected from switching to a board system is an at-best neutral result. So, I must ask, why spend the money to establish a board and then staff it up and then make it work on a day-to-day basis for a result that's at best neutral.

What kind of analysis did Attorney General Cuomo engage in to produce this proposal? Did his policy people find writings that I didn't find?

Well, perhaps he studied the fund management of other States, which by and large do not have the sole trusteeship system, and discovered it to be corruption-free or nearly-so.


• Pension Fund Corruption in Other States

So, are pension funds managed by boards corruption-free or nearly-so?

In a word, no. In and of itself, that fact didn't surprise me, but what did surprise me was to find this article on the website of Governing magazine, dated 5 November 2009, detailing a “pay-to-play” scandal in California's CALPERS retirement system, which is run by a board. I must admit that I expected to find the occasional scandal or corruption involving other states' pension funds, but I hadn't expected to find something that similar to New York's scandals, that quickly, dated that recently.

In the Spring of 2009 a civil trial began related to an odd, multi-layered scandal involving the city of Milwaukee's public pension funds, as detailed in this article on the website of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, posted 2 May 2009. This scandal didn't involve investments, but still.

Here, the Heartland Institute discusses the under-funded and “scandal-plagued” nature of the State of Illinois' public pension funds. And, also involving Illinois, here is an April 2009 proposal from the Illinois State Treasurer to reform the Illinois pension funds in the wake of various scandals. The funds at issue are all managed by boards, but it hasn't helped Illinois remain scandal-free. In an interesting twist, the Treasurer has proposal involved consolidating the State's 5 pension funds into a single entity. While this isn't quite the same as his having proposed a sole trusteeship, it does provide some evidence against the “more is better” idea underlying the Cuomo proposal.

It is clear that, at least at first glance (and second glance, for that matter), that neither the body of writings on pension fund management nor a cursory analysis of other states' funds so much as suggests that changing the management system would exclude corruption from the system. At most it would offer the potential, sooner or later, for a pay-to-play system to emerge with multiple points of entry.

If the Attorney General and his policy staff have some kind of specific reason to think this measure will work, if they have some analysis indicating why their idea will succeed where other board management schemes have failed at forestalling corruption, if they have some kind of analysis showing that corruption in other states' pension funds, while it does happen, is measurably less than in New York? If they have any of that? They are for some reason keeping it a secret. To rely on “common sense,” is a bad idea. As journalist (or is he a “humorist?” I'm not sure honestly) Charles Pierce points out in his darkly humorous 2009 work Idiot America: How Stupidity Became a Virtue in the Land of the Free, common sense “rarely is common and even more rarely makes sense” (page 35). At the very least, it is fair to say that common sense alone is not enough to justify this conclusion.


• Conclusion

Why do something like this in the middle of a fiscal crisis when the State might run out of money for normal operations in under a month? From the body of writings on pension fund investment, the move from sole trusteeship to board management would be a neutral one, and that's being rather generous. It would doubtlessly be expensive, and disruptive. How could it not? The board will need staff. The board will need to be elected. The board will need to do a lot of report-reading in order to come up to speed.

And is there anything New York State needs less at the moment than to enact a policy potentially expensive, doubtlessly disruptive, and unlikely to achieve its specified aims?

In any other time, if the money was there, the answer would be a “why not?”

But, not now. This measure ultimately has a lot more to do with Attorney General Cuomo's quest to become Governor of New York (and why anyone would want that job is beyond me) than it does with policy.

Scenes from an Extraordinary Session

I wandered about the New York State Capitol building for a few hours on November 10, 2009, before and during the Extraordinary Session of the New York State Legislature. I was even more smartly dressed than usual. I appeared to blend in well. I left before the Legislature passed the few bills it would pass during the Session. During my brief visit, this is what I saw.

For some reason I start on the 5th floor, I guess so I could wander my way down which seems easier than wandering up. The Capitol is very much like a maze, with twisty passages and rooms that sometimes seems slightly bigger from the inside than you'd think they “should” be from the outside. There's a lot of climbing up and down short staircases. The 5th floor is a little dingy, more dimly lit than you would expect.

There are several Senate Majority offices about, and one Senate Minority office, mostly different kinds of counsels. This implies lawyers, and there's a good amount of these offices, so that implies a lot of lawyers. This makes me think of how the Majority has hired outside counsel to manage the investigation into Senator Monserrate. They obviously have a lot of lawyers on payroll, and they can't all be that busy. They should use in-house counsel for the investigation.

Senator Neil Breslin has an office in the Capitol Building, as advertised on his official Senate website. This might imply that he, and Upstate, retain some influence in the New York City-dominated Democratic Conference. But what you can't see from the website is that Senator Breslin's office is off in a particularly dingy, dimly lit corner of the fifth floor, which is as I mentioned generally speaking dingy and dimly lit to begin with. Frankly, based on where his office is, Senator Breslin actually seems rather marginalized. Later on this afternoon, I'll come to see Senator Breslin, on the floor of the Senate and in the hallways outside the Chamber. He's confined to a wheelchair for some reason. Was there some news about him that I missed? Google searches tell me nothing. He seems unhappy.

In an amusing case of bad timing, Senate Elevator 3 is out of service. Senate Elevator 4 is manned by an elevator operator, whom I now know is the retiring “Sandy,” one of the last elevator operators at the Capitol. The Extraordinary Session marks her last day on the job. An era has ended.

I see someone on Sandy's elevator with two apparently identical Blackberries. Overkill much? Even assuming one is State-issued for State-business and the other is for political and personal business, wouldn't it be cheaper to the State to reimburse him for State business done on his personal Blackberry rather than buy him a second one? Does he ever confuse them and accidentally send a political E-Mail or two from his State Blackberry? Or perhaps they are both his, neither belonging to the State, and he just really, really likes Blackberries? There is no way to know.

I decide that I should not fret over how many Blackberries some random person has. I wander to the Senate, and I sit in the gallery and I look around at the magnificent chamber. Some of the Anti-Federalists, writing about the U.S. Senate, worried that it would maintain itself in “opulent splendor” on the public dime. I don't know if the New York State Senate Chamber qualifies as “opulent splendor,” but it's certainly something above nice. The Chamber looks very old, very historic. This is not the first time I've been in the Senate Chamber, I attended a couple of the Extraordinary Sessions during the coup period, but the effect hasn't worn off for me yet. Each time I see it I understand less and less how the Senators can sometimes behave so pettily. Just seeing this chamber makes me want to behave well, makes me want to impress the history that surrounds me. I can imagine many historic moments taking place in this chamber. I know all-too-well that pettiness and thuggery is part of the story of Albany as well; it always has been, and it always will be. I know this, but somehow, in the gallery looking down at the Senate Chamber, I can't imagine it.

I look over and see Senator Bonacic flirting with one of the female clerks, teasing her about her “science fiction” colored glasses (they are some kind of neon color). I shouldn't say he's flirting; I don't know his intent. He may just being friendly. But from my vantage point it looks like flirting, and whatever it is the girl doesn't appear to be enjoying it very much. She seems embarrassed, but she does put up with it well, giggling in a manner that to me sounds fake to me. But, again...Just like I can't know his intent, I can't know her feelings. I just describe what I see, as best I can.

I look at the staff of the Senate Republican Minority. They look lean, hungry, tired, defeated. Even a little scared. I wonder if a lot of them have been called to testify at the trial of former Majority Leader Bruno. I know some have, you see their names on the witness list.

Or perhaps they are just tired. It's likely been a long night. Because the Democratic Majority is so narrow, a few Republican votes can matter a lot, and hence the Minority staff is likely to be involved in the deficit reduction negotiations.

I see Senator Addabbo, who beat then-Senator Maltese to represent a district in Queens. From his look, I would think he was either a cop or a mob enforcer (the two types are physically similar, which I guess makes sense), not a Senator. I think perhaps he is an ex-cop, but his official biography says no. He seems to be a career politician.

To some that would sound like an insult I suppose, but I don't mean it that way. I don't mind the thought of career politicians. Max Weber wrote that politics is a vocation and calling, and if it's a vocation it can surely be a career.

Like Republican Senator Joseph Robach and Democratic Member of the Assembly Kenneth Zebrowski, Democratic Senator Addabbo is following in his father's footsteps; politics is the family business. All 3 of these families are thus contenders to join the long-standing New York tradition of political families and political dynasties. I don't mind dynasties, so long as the individual members of the dynasty are deserving. This has surely been the case with at least some of New York's dynasties, which include the Yates, Livingston, Jay, and Roosevelt families. It's easy to think of those people as being national figures, but they were all New Yorkers.

I wonder if the Robachs, the Zebrowskis, or the Addabbos will become New York State's next political dynasty. Or perhaps all 3 will.

I see Jim Odato, reporter for the Albany Times-Union, wander across the Senate floor. I hadn't realized reporters were allowed there. I have read that bloggers can supposedly get credentials now-a-days, I wonder if I should. Odato doesn't seem to be comfortable with the fact that people recognize him, which seems odd to me. More on that in a few paragraphs.

The gay marriage activists are out in force today. This is understandable. As I write this, 2 days after the Extraordinary Session, we know that they were to be disappointed; there was no vote on gay marriage on the 10th. But during the Session, none of us knows that yet.

Some of the activists remain out in the hallways, chanting slogans very loudly. Anywhere except the Senate Chamber, it's impossible to not hear them, and that's the point. Some of them file into the Senate Chamber, and during the Pledge of Allegiance they loudly over-emphasize “with liberty and justice for all,” their meaning clear. The gay marriage activists, though loud, are not disruptive. In video footage, I see them being more confrontational than I witnessed personally, but they still were not disruptive or violent. I think of how Senator Diaz has claimed activists “jammed” his phone and threatened his staff. I wonder if he was exaggerating or not.

I note the presence of Lieutenant Governor Richard Ravitch at the podium, fulfilling his Constitutional duty to preside over the State Senate. I note Temporary President Malcolm Smith sitting in “floor leader” chair. I hadn't expected this somehow. The Senate has 3 leaders at the moment, and it's hard to tell who does what. Somehow, though, I had expected to see Conference Leader John Sampson in the chair, but he deceptively sits like an ordinary member. Same with Majority Leader Pedro Espada. They all share some power, but, today at least, they allow Malcolm Smith the dignity of the spotlight.

The gay marriage activists appear to think that the issue of gay marriage will be dealt with as soon as the Senate gavels in, which is of course not the case. We endure many long minutes (20 or so, maybe more) of speeches honoring veterans, especially those who currently serve in the State Senate. Senator Eric Adams manages to work his support for gay marriage into his speech in a clever way. Honoring veterans is a noble cause to be sure, but it seems cruel to do it at the start of an Extraordinary Session with so many important issues are up for consideration. Eventually, the Senate goes “at ease” (basically meaning they are still in Session but there's nothing to do just now). The bills, they say, are being printed. After the bills are printed, they will, we are told, go through the Rules Committee or the Finance Committee first. Despite its name, which might imply that it deals with the Rules of the Senate, I know that the Rules Committee has broad jurisdiction and can deal with any matter the leader of the Senate deems appropriate. (For the moment there are at least 3 leaders of the Senate so I'm not sure how they manage that.) For a bill to go through Rules during the normal Sessions means it's on the fast track. And I have read that, in the waning days of a regular Session, when most important things go through, Rules and Finance are the only committees that meet regularly. Rules can meet several times a night during the final days of normal Session.

The activists in the gallery don't seem to know the process. I find this interesting; I wonder if it's the fault of college Political Science classes, not giving a practical enough political education, or perhaps the fault of whatever advocacy organization they are part of not informing them. I suppose it could be the fault of the Senate itself, but somehow I don't like to think of it that way. I expect legislatures to have seemingly-arcane rules, and I don't blame them for it

I leave the gallery foolishly thinking that a Rules Meeting might be imminent. If it is, I want to be sure I catch it, but it was not to be. Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing my first Rules Committee meeting.

I wander out into the lobby of the Senate; the location where, I have read, the term “lobbying” was supposedly coined. (I actually don't believe that story.) The couches are obscenely comfortable, even if they are ridiculously over-sized. You sink into them, like quicksand. I'm not an overly small man, and they surround me, envelop me. It's a very strange feeling, sinking into this big couch, surrounded by powerful people. The activists wander through the lobby on occasion. This seems appropriate, as in a sense they are lobbyists, they are just using different tools than we normally understand lobbyists to use. Placards and signs and demonstrations aren't allowed in the lobby, so they fold their signs in half, and wander through to get to the other side, then unfold the placard and resume demonstrating. Outside the lobby, where signs and placards are definitely allowed, the loud demonstrations continue. The sound of it echoes through the lobby. There is a State Police presence, but they don't interfere. Nothing illegal happens.

I see Senator Pedro Espada in the lobby, conversing with a group of people. I wander close, trying to hear (you can't possibly have an expectation of privacy having an open conversation in the lobby of the New York State senate), but between the loud roar of protests and the low drone of conventional lobbying there's too much ambient noise. I see the Senator straining to hear the voices of those to whom he's talking, so I know he's having trouble too. I note that he looks different than the other times I've seen him in-person. He seems tired, worn, a little hunted. Jet lag from Puerto Rico? Is the pressure finally getting to him, breaking through the frighteningly calm facade he likes to project?

I converse briefly with some lobbyists, because it seems I look like I might know what's going on. I am, after all, more smartly dressed than usual (did I mention that?). I explain what I know. I don't know how to describe myself. Do I pretend to be a lobbyist? Do I call myself a reporter? A blogger? Luckily it doesn't seem to come up. I find it odd that the lobbyists don't seem to know the process any better than the activists. And, again, I wonder if this is the fault of Political Science classes in college or of the organization not properly informing its employees. Or both. And then there's always that other possibility, that maybe parliamentary procedure could be a lot clearer than it is, and not something you'd have to become familiar with. That still feels unrealistic to me, but I need to keep it in mind.

My mind wanders a bit. I try, unsuccessfully, to overhear some random conversations. I wonder if real reporters will report what they hear in public conversations, or if this is considered taboo. Or perhaps they know that nothing of importance is ever discussed that openly. I'm not interested in "scoops," however, I just want to hear informal political discourse. I want to hear if these people use the same kind of language in informal political discourse as they do in speeches and the like.

I sink back down into the over-sized, overly comfortable couches in the Senate lobby. Senator Monserrate walks by. I jot down “it's funny seeing someone walk by whom you've advocated should resign.” I don't know if he notices me or not.

I see Fred Dicker of the New York Post, wandering around. He seems, oddly, to be in the same kind of confused fog that I and the lobbyists are in. I infer that he doesn't know what's going on either, and that he and I are in the same boat. I quickly jot this down. I am far from only one who notices Dicker. I take note of the others and wonder who they are. Do they think that Dicker knows what's going on, and that they can figure it out themselves by watching what he does and noticing who he speaks to?

Like Odato had earlier, Dicker seems nervous and suspicious that people know who he is, are noting his motions and trying to see where he may be going. Famous reporters, like Fred Dicker, Jim Odato, and Liz Benjamin are part of the story of Albany. They are not really neutral observers. Willingly or not, they have worked their way into life at the Capitol and are part of the story as much as tellers of the story. These people are often opinion makers as much as they are reporters, and are thus used by “sources” who wish to plant a story or two. Dicker's column in particular seems like a grand place to plant a story, and of late I can't help but notice how many of his stories are beneficial to Attorney General and apparent Gubernatorial hopeful Andrew Cuomo. It makes me wonder who his sources are, which of course is part of the point. To wonder about his sources I had to read the story to begin with, and that means I bought the paper or visited the website or both. The reporter gains a source, the sources gets the story planted, and we in the public “gain” juicy political gossip. Fred Dicker's targets, however, sometimes suffer, and not always justly. In my brief period “covering” State politics I've so far seen little in the way of concern on Dicker's part for his targets.

For the moment, however, Dicker is the target. He's been noticed, by multiple people, and he oddly enough doesn't seem to like it. Has he not realized after all these years that he is part of the story? That he's subject to scrutiny as much as the politicians are? Perhaps he hasn't. What about Odato? Benjamin? I make a note to later see if anything's been written about this, about the "reporter as story" phenomenon.

I wander to the Assembly side of the Capitol, which seems quiet and boring. Today at least, the upper house, which Political Science teaches us should be genteel and scholarly and collegial, is actually the nexus of activity and action. Some of this is doubtlessly due to the fact that the Assembly has already passed gay marriage, multiple times, and thus the activists are drawn to the Senate. But some of it must also be due to the way the Senate's ongoing implosion generates news, excitement, and activity.

I leave, convinced I've seen everything I can see for today. And besides, I have someplace to be.

The oddest thing about my afternoon at the State Capitol is that I almost feel more in-touch behind a computer, occasionally checking the blogs, than I do in the center of the action. Granted, information in the blogs is not always accurate, and can be out-of-date by the time it's uploaded (5 minutes or less after it was obtained, that's how fast things move around here). But is that any different from if I had sources of my own, telling me the same thing I'd have learned from some blog anyway, 5 minutes after I was told and 10 minutes after it was proven wrong or out-of-date?

But what I do not have is an excuse to be as smartly dressed.

The Case for Senator Monserrate's Resignation

Introduction

In this article I shall outline a case for Senator Hiram Monserrate's resignation from the State Senate.

I'm not the first person to call for his resignation, and I doubt I'll be the last. My argument might have some similarities with those of others, but I'm pretty sure mine is noticeably different. I don't only deal with the assault conviction, for example. My argument is also pretty cynical, is amoral, and is based on an overall pattern of conduct and on lost credibility. The assault conviction is a factor, but not the only one. I don't care about Senator Monserrate's defense fund. I have no anger toward him about the coup. Though the way he started it, then backed out of it so quickly, is a factor, because I feel that reflects a great personality defect.

However, I take the position that, between the assault conviction and other circumstances, Senator Monserrate has destroyed all credibility for himself, and has crossed a line that makes him unfit to hold public office. There's quite likely other incidents reflecting his various personality defects, but frankly I've spent too much time and bandwidth on this matter as it is.

Senator Monserrate seems unable to follow-through on any important political action he takes, and seems to be brave only when he has a lot of backup or is facing someone weaker than he. This is the mentality of a bully, and while there may be other bullies in New York State politics besides Senator Monserrate, none of them have had public downfalls the way Senator Monserrate has.

Senator Monserrate picks fights, or starts them, and then backs down when he realizes he's in over his head. Contrast this with Senator Perdo Espada. Whether you like Senator Espada or not, he is not afraid to fight an opponent as strong as, or stronger than, he. Like him or not, that's an admirable character trait, one which is necessary to be a leader in State politics, and one which Monserrate lacks to such a degree that he's incapable of being credible even as a follower, let alone a leader. He has chosen to be a high profile Senator, and has since this decision revealed himself to be not up to the challenge. As it's too late for him to be an anonymous back bencher, it's time for him to go and find something else to do.

Who I feel the most pity for is his staff.


Resignation, Not Expulsion

I find resignation, not expulsion, to be the appropriate path here. I am not comfortable with the bizarre, expensive process to “investigate” Senator Monserrate that the Senate Democrats have initiated.

Expulsion has been used but one time in the recent history of the State Legislature. (Maybe one time ever.) In 1920, several sitting, duly elected, sworn-in Members of the State Assembly were expelled for the crime of belonging to the completely legal Socialist party. Their expulsion took place after they had been sworn in, and had voted for leadership positions. The expulsion process they were put through was lengthy and bizarre, incorporating what amounted to a full trial in the Assembly Judiciary Committee that went on for months. (Sources: Louis Waldman's Albany: The Crisis in Government, 1920; Seymour Martin Lipset and Gary Marks's It Didn't Happen Here: Why Socialism Failed in the United States, 2000; New York State Senate, Revolutionary Radicalism: Its History, Power, and Tactics, 1920.)

In my research, I haven't located a price tag for the proceedings (granted, I wasn't looking very hard, as it was of secondary concern to me), but it doesn't sound cheap and, so far, the contemporary Senate Democrats have shown no sign of being able to handle it at a discount rate in the case of Senator Monserrate. The process the Senate Democrats have initiated is thus not only expensive, but historically tainted.


Why is This Even an Issue?

Some appear to wonder why this is even an issue. Why not have automatic expulsion upon conviction of any crime? Shouldn't out public servants be exemplary?

At this point, we need to face the fact that the notion of an “exemplary public servant” is a myth. Your favorite politician has done something wrong, or borderline, or will be accused of doing something wrong even if he hasn't. The basis for the accusation will be something innocuous that will appear bad or wrong somehow when the correct tone of voice and choice of words is used to describe it.

And that's the best case scenario. The worst case scenario is that your favorite politician has some deep flaw, which will one day become public in an alarming and hurtful way.

It's really best if you disavow yourself of the notion of an exemplary politician. There are no real “good guys” in this story. We need to be more realistic about our expectations.

Even more importantly, Senator Monserrate was elected by the people of his district. What you or I may think of him matters a lot less in our system than does the mere fact that he was elected. This is an electoral democracy, after all. To throw out Senator Monserrate, or any elected politician, is to undo the outcome of an election. That should be a rare and terrible occurrence.


A Matter of Credibility, Not Morality

But, as stated above, Senator Monserrate needs to, for the good of the Senate and (more importantly) his district, resign as soon as possible. He simply has no credibility left. None. As we shall see, the assault conviction is simply one incident among several.


Incident One: The Gang of Four....Sorry, Three

Readers will likely recall that Senator Monserrate, actually he was Senator-Elect at the time, was part of the original “Gang of Four,” or “Four Amigos,” four dissident Democrats who were decidedly uncomfortable with the idea of Senator Malcolm Smith as Majority Leader and Temporary President of the Senate.

Readers will also, however, recall that Senator Elect Hiram Monserrate caved in early, after just a few days really, and the Gang of Four quickly became the Gang of Three.

For the first time since his election to the State Senate, Senator Monserrate picked a fight he was not prepared for. The next time he made a big move and wasn't prepared to follow through, the consequences were greater.


Incident Two: The Coup That Wasn't

As is well-documented, Senators Monserrate and Espada, together with all 30 Republican Senators, launched a successful coup against then-Majority Leader and (then and current) Temporary President Smith back in June 2009. (Seems so long ago, doesn't it?)

Note Senator Monserrate in the picture attached to this article. He appears to be attempting to hide in plain sight, and to me at least he looks slightly uncomfortable. He had helped to initiate chaos he was unable to deal with the consequences.

And this was the second time, a more serious variant on what he had already done when he flirted with the Gang of Four. Whether the reasons for the Senator's actions were cynical or sincere is beside the point. Regardless of his motives, Senator Monserrate seems unable to stand up to anyone for very long. In Senator Monserrate, we have a person who is capable of causing chaos and then being frightened by it, like a child who is bewildered when his castle made of building blocks topples after he kicks it. It's not like the level of opposition his actions engendered was somehow not predictable. He just wasn't prepared.

Senator Monserrate really should have confined himself to the back bench. It would not have saved him from Incident Three, but it would have prevented the cumulative weight of these incidents from bearing down upon him.


Incident Three: The Assault Conviction

The details of Senator Monserrate's assault conviction are pretty well known, but let us review them anyway. In middle December 2008, then Member of the City Council and Senator-Elect Monserrate and his girlfriend had some kind of accident or altercation at their apartment. The girlfriend ended up with a seriously slashed face.

Hiram Monserrate was eventually charged with felony and misdemeanor assault. He was acquitted of felony assault, related to the slashing. He was, however, convicted of misdemeanor assault, relating not to the slashing but what happened afterward.

I am normally loath to post links to the New York Post (a publication which usually belongs not in the newsstands but in the toilet hanging off a plastic roll) but the article linked to above (the first of 2 links in the previous paragraph) has an important virtue: It features embedded video footage of now-Senator Monserrate dragging his bleeding girlfriend, post-slashing, first through a hallway, then through the apartment building foyer, then into an emergency room. She appears to be frightened, and clearly makes repeated attempts to get away from him.

Senator Monserrate was not convicted of anything related to the slashing incident. On that matter, there was clearly reasonable doubt, as the alleged victim had recanted her story and clearly did not want Monserrate prosecuted. However, the Judge concluded, the post-slashing dragging constituted misdemeanor assault. There was no reasonable doubt on that fact pattern; it was caught on video.

A sitting New York State Senator now faces jail time. While this outcome is not likely, jail time for first-time misdemeanors seems to be rare, it's well within the realm of the possible. That means it's also possible that the Senator will be drawing public pay while being unable to fulfill his public duties, because he is sitting in a jail cell.


Conclusions

Senator Monserrate should resign. He's done for anyway. As this link shows, the Queens Democrats, never his friends to begin with, have already designated his replacement, Assembly Member Jose Peralta. If there is a primary, all that's necessary to win is showing footage of these 3 incidents (the assault; the Gang of Four/Three; and the coup).

Again, and again, and again.

Senator Monserrate is the political equivalent of the schoolyard bully. Some of those guys can stand up for themselves, but most can't. Senator Monserrate can't. He clearly has personality flaws. If he had remained a back bencher, a member of the body who kept mostly quiet and did his thing, this wouldn't have mattered so much. He may have even been able to survive the assault conviction, by arguing that it was a private matter that didn't impact his job. But it's far too late for that.

And if he doesn't resign? Should the Senate follow through with the expensive and historically questionable process of removal?

I have no answer for that. Right now I'm just hoping he does the right thing and resigns.

My (Delayed) Reaction to Skelos v. Paterson

The first thing that struck me when I read the final State Court of Appeals decision in Skelos v. Paterson was the lack of explicit references to historical research and the innumerable “friend of the court” briefs that the Court undoubtedly received in order to help it make its decision. I guess I half-expected a long, in-depth historical analysis, but I noticed no explicit references in the decision to any part of the historical record, with just the following exceptions:

• The legislative history of the relevant portions of the Public Officers Law;

• The related legislative history of the relevant portions of the State Constitution; and

• Also related, the old Court of Appeals case Ward v. Curran, and the political reaction to it.

But upon a moment's reflection,I can understand why there weren't more explicit references to history. Readers will recall an earlier entry wherein I, unsuccessfully, sought answers to these questions in the record of the 1966 New York Constitutional Convention, and in other historical materials. I couldn't find much. With one exception (see that entry for details) almost everyone who ever thought about this issue seems to have just assumed, without thinking, that the Governor could not appoint a Lieutenant Governor. This is not one of those instances where the past has a lot to teach us, and where questions being asked now have been asked before. It's really quite the opposite. The politicos of the past seem to have never really thought to ask this question, let alone answer it. They assumed the answer, rather than analyzed the issue.

Given the ambiguity of the issue, the majority and minority opinions both make about an equal amount of sense. I can only assume that those who attribute the decision solely to partisan politics are reacting in a knee-jerk manner. While I firmly believe that politics always plays a role in any decision of any high court in any jurisdiction, and somehow I doubt the New York State Court of Appeals is an exception, even a cursory review of the relevant materials will reveal that the decision is equally plausible on the merits as it is on the politics.

Long ago I had suggested that the matter would come down to judicial orientation. Judges, I felt, who broadly speaking believe that Governors cannot perform actions not specifically allowed to them would rule for Skelos. And by contrast, Judges who broadly speaking believe that Governors can perform actions not specifically forbidden to them would rule for Paterson. I was probably right when I said this, but I now see that I have to qualify my claim somewhat. I haven't extensively reviewed Court of Appeals decisions on Executive-Legislative relations, and thus have no evidence upon which to draw broad conclusions about the philosophy of any of its individual judges.

So, let me qualify my proposition: The decision I feel came down to judicial philosophy on executive power, at least as it related to this particular issue. It's conceivable that a judge's philosophy could lead him or her to pro-executive power decisions in some cases, and anti-executive power decisions in other cases, depending on the circumstances and what the law said. (I doubt it though.) However, in this particular case, the ambiguity was so great that there was little to hang a decision on except for one's personal judicial philosophy. Neither side of the argument has any firmer basis than the other. Almost everything in this case is a matter of how one squints.

The majority opinion (the ruling of the court) basically held that the preference of current law is that vacancies in office need to be filled. Elections to fill a vacancy in the event of a vacancy in this particular office have been specifically overruled by statutes and constitutional provisions, and gubernatorial appointment is how vacancies in elective offices are generally filled. The performing of the duties of Lieutenant Governor by the Temporary President of the Senate during the vacancy is not the same as actually filling the vacancy. This could easily result in the same situation post-Ward decision that caused the Governor and the Legislature to change the law to what it is today: A Lieutenant Governor that was politically opposed to the Governor who would attempt to hinder the Governor's agenda and the operations of the government. If the Legislature had wanted to exclude the Lieutenant Governor from gubernatorial appointment, it would have done so more explicitly.

The minority opinion basically held that the Temporary President of the Senate's acting as Lieutenant Governor effectively filled the vacancy; it was an alternative to gubernatorial appointment under the Public Officers Law. If the Legislature had wanted to subject the office of the Lieutenant Governor to gubernatorial appointment, it would have done so more explicitly. Reversing 2 centuries of judicial interpretation opens up the State to a bizarre scenario wherein the Governor could one day be a person for whom no one had voted for any office whatsoever. The Temporary President of the Senate is at least elected by the voters in his or her district, is then further elected by Senators who have themselves been elected by voters in their district, and as Temporary President serves a statewide constituency.

Neither side argued their case with particular strength. There were, for example, none of the sly, literate, very judicial insults that one often sees in high court decisions. No one referred to their position as inherently obvious. Both sides respected one another's sincerity, and the sincerity of the litigants. Both sides appeared to recognize that their cases were weak by definition, and thus hedged their bets.

The majority relied in large part on how similar statutory or constitutional frameworks are interpreted in other states. The minority criticized this reliance, but then themselves relied upon an analogy to the federal constitution. I found this mild hypocrisy amusing, if curious.

The majority, to their credit, bypassed the question of Skelos's “standing” to file the suit to begin with. The question of standing is often used by high courts who want to sidestep an important issue. The Court of Appeals's majority recognized that this matter was too important to not address. The minority, by contrast, devoted over 6 pages (but not quite 7 pages) to confirming Skelos's standing to sue.

This is a strong, solid decision that will have a positive impact on New York State for years to come.

Whether or not it will help New York State's current budget woes and its current Governor remains to be seen.