RALEIGH — There’s a dark, ominous cloud hovering over the State Legislative Building in Raleigh. While some have forecast its coming for months now, others never thought it would develop into anything. Even now, there’s disagreement about what it is. It could be just the telltale signs of a gathering political storm.
Or, perhaps that cloud is really a thick gathering of wings, a flock of a very special, predatory fowl: the federal kind.
It’s been rumored around the state capital for some time that the campaign finances of several key members of the General Assembly, including House Speaker Jim Black, have been coming under increasingly scrutiny. The issue, as reported in detail Sunday by The Charlotte Observer with some important additional information uncovered by The News & Observer of Raleigh, is the campaign giving of members of North Carolina’s video poker industry, which has long had reason to be nervous about a state regulatory crackdown.
Both newspapers included the findings of a recent review by the watchdog group Democracy South of contributions by the industry to Black and others. The researchers estimated that the Charlotte Democrat had received more than $100,000 in such contributions, though in some cases the originators of the dollars were hard to identify. Some listed donors, when first contacted by reporters, denied having made the contribution or at least knowing any details about how much and why they gave, and to whom.
Video poker is already a closely regulated industry in the state, at least theoretically. Video-poker machines can’t give out big cash prizes, as is common elsewhere, and can’t be grouped in large, casino-like facilities. But many opponents of the industry, including anti-gambling activists and local law enforcement agencies, would like to go further than that, preferably all the way to a ban. The allegation is that Black, in particular, has blocked the passage of any additional legislation because of his campaign-finance ties to the industry, which accounted for about a quarter of all his political contributions from supporters outside his home region of Mecklenburg County.
If true, this would be a gross perversion of the legislative process. That’s why the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the U.S. Attorney’s Office are reportedly probing the matter. They aren’t campaign-finance regulators. Nor is it even clear that the campaign-finance laws have been abrogated in this case, though it is telling how little some of Black’s listed donors seem to know about their own involvement in his political machine. What would motivate federal investigation is the possibility of bribery. U.S. Attorney Frank Whitney has already obtained guilty pleas from former Agriculture Commissioner Meg Scott Phipps and her aides on bribery and related charges, and is now also reportedly investigating U.S. Rep. Frank Ballance’s dealings with a state-funded nonprofit foundation that also had financial dealings with his political donors and family members. More generally, he has said that political corruption is near the top of his priority list.
On the video-poker case, Whitney wasn’t definitive in an interview with the N&O. “We can’t say where the investigation will take us, but we’ll follow whatever credible leads there are,” Whitney said. “Does that mean it will lead to public corruption? I don’t know; it might.”
I don’t know that it will lead there, either. Rumors and appearances don’t meet the appropriate test for criminal prosecution.
What I do know, and fear, is that others will seize upon the revelation of this latest investigation to try to “prove” the wrong propositions. For example, self-styled reformers of the campaign-finance system will point to this case as evidence for the need to compel taxpayers to fund political campaigns. I strongly disagree. Most political contributions are not bribes, and do not lead politicians to change their votes on key issues. Most politicians start out with a certain set of beliefs and then attract the support of like-minded donors, not the other way around. And to force me to contribute to Speaker Black’s campaign treasury instead of video-poker operators is certainly not my idea of an ideal solution.
As for the video-poker industry itself, I must confess to some disquiet about its demonization. The main reason, it seems, why owners of video-poker machines and establishments are so politically active is that politicians are trying to shut them down. In my view, personal freedom doesn’t just extend to those activities I enjoy and endorse. It extends to other activities, including drinking and video gambling, that I certainly do not endorse (both addle the brain and lead to reckless, addictive behavior). While I retain some concern about the possibility of fraud in video-poker computers, I essentially believe in the freedom to play and the freedom to disassociate myself from those who do.
Actually, what enrages me most about this entire affair is that I’m quite sure some of the politicians seeking to defend the industry from governmental intrusion care little about issues such as personal freedom or morality. They see the opportunity to score some campaign cash from an embattled industry, and wouldn’t mind much if it felt even more embattled — as long as it and cash pipeline stay in operation.
The biggest problem here isn’t a flaw in campaign-finance laws or an immoral industry. As usual, it’s excessive governmental power.
Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation and publisher of Carolina Journal.