When Howard Baker was majority leader of the U.S. Senate, he once famously remarked that the worst mistake Congress ever made was air conditioning the Capitol Building.
In earlier times Congress met for only part of each year, and then returned home when the muggy August heat made Washington, D.C. practically uninhabitable — not to return until the following year.
Over the years the congressional “recess” periods became shorter as the country’s business grew. Eventually the August recess became an annual one-month work period during which members held town meetings and traveled their districts. Then along came air conditioning, and it became possible for Congress to meet virtually year-round in an office complex complete with all the comforts taxpayer money could provide. Baker thought members were growing out of touch with their constituents, and advocated more time back home.
How things have evolved since then! The pendulum has swung radically the other way, as Baker’s suggestion has now become the normal schedule — every week. Typically, congressmen and senators travel to D.C. on Mondays, meet Tuesdays through Thursdays, and as soon as they hear the announcement that there will be no more recorded votes, they all bolt for the airport and head home again. They still work, but in their districts, not in Washington. Most members now leave their families at home and rent temporary quarters for the few days each week that they are in D.C. Their sessions frequently last until the wee hours of the morning, partly so they can get back to the airport and partly because it is harder to deal with all the important issues when you only meet three to four days a week. They still take August off, but now also much of December, January, and other extended holiday periods.
Some advocates of modern technology want to take this trend to its logical extreme, because in today’s world it is not really necessary for political leaders to meet in person — ever.
Presidential candidate Carly Fiorina has talked about the ability of a president to conduct instant national polls on any issue (by Twitter, Facebook, and other e-tools). Congresswoman Cathy McMorris Rodgers (R-WA) advocates much greater use of such technology by Congress. She calls Congress a “19th Century institution often using 20th Century technology to respond to 21st Century problems.” They are certainly right about the advantages of instant communication and ways it can positively change the way government works.
Something important is also being lost, though. The ability of leaders to know each other and learn from each other is a vital part of the process. Prominent western leaders from Mo Udall and Bill Armstrong to Alan Simpson and Wayne Aspinall were able to educate their eastern counterparts about unique Western challenges, and were able to persuade Congress on a range of issues from grazing and forest management to water storage and mountain highway construction. They did that in the most old-fashioned way, by personal persuasion. They became friends with members from New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and St. Louis. They bartered, traded support for each other’s local needs, and they got things done.
As recently as the 1970s and 80s when I worked on Capitol Hill, members of Congress still moved to D.C., put their children in the schools there, joined the same clubs, played cards together in the evenings or golf on the weekends. That didn’t mean they agreed any more often than today’s members, believe me. But it created a civility that is sadly missing today, because members were reluctant to criticize each other in very personal terms — they were friends and their families knew each other. Today many members of Congress have never even met.
I am a major advocate for using the latest technology and modernizing our lives and our government. But it can never completely take the place of getting to know one another and working together to solve problems. The fact that technology makes something possible doesn’t necessarily make it wise.
Taken too far, it could actually result in a much purer form of direct democracy, where we wouldn’t need representatives at all. Everyone could vote on every detail of every issue. But direct democracy is often compared to three wolves and a lamb voting on what’s for dinner. In this scenario, small communities in rural America would be the lamb.
We poke fun at teenagers who sit across the table texting instead of talking. Do we really want our elected officials doing the same?
(A version of this column originally appeared in the Grand Junction Daily Sentinel August 21, 2015)
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