[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 5 (Monday, January 31, 1994)]
[House]
[Page H]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: January 31, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
   REMARKS BY SENATOR JOHN C. DANFORTH AT THE YALE LAW SCHOOL ALUMNI 
                                 DINNER

  Mr. CHAFEE. Mr. President, I ask unanimous concent to print in the 
Record  a speech by our colleague, the senior Senator from Missouri, 
Senator John C. Danforth, that he gave to the Yale law school alumni 
dinner in October of last year.
  There being no objection, the remarks were ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

   Remarks by Senator John C. Danforth at the Yale Law School Alumni 
                 Dinner, New Haven, CT, October 8, 1993

       Every Senate office is decorated with photographs of famous 
     people. Many have Presidents, past and present. Some have 
     Pope John Paul II, some Anwar Sadat; some Archbishop Tutu.
       My office features a picture of Guido Calabresi, Dean of 
     Yale Law School.
       Actually, it is a picture of my daughter, Mary, graduating 
     from the Law School five years ago, and Guido happens to be 
     in the picture. But it is typically Guido. Mary is receiving 
     her degree, a big smile on her face. Guido is in his exotic 
     graduation get-up, the one he claims he received from an 
     Italian university. His hand is on Mary's shoulder, and he is 
     about to plant a kiss on her cheek, just as he kissed many, 
     if not all, of the graduates that day.
       I look at that picture often, always with pride in Mary, 
     and always with the sense that it says a lot about Guido in 
     particular and Yale Law School in general. Having attended 
     but one law school, I have no basis for comparison, but I 
     wonder how many law schools have kissing deans. I wonder how 
     many law schools treat their students as whole persons, not 
     as disembodied brains or, what is worse, disembodied sticky 
     fingers.
       There is no doubt in my mind that Yale Law School gives 
     something special to its students. On this, I do have a basis 
     of comparison, for, over the years, I have hired perhaps 
     hundreds of young lawyers from many law schools. Yale 
     graduates are bright, of course. But, beyond that, those I 
     have known are whole persons. They have broad interests and 
     good values. They are good lawyers, good Senate staffers and 
     very good company. Surely, there are exceptions, but if 
     generalizations are ever accurate, this is my experience with 
     the graduates of Yale Law School.
       It is not necessary to go on and on with the kudos, 
     especially now that the alumni fund drive is over. I have a 
     broader point to make which is that the qualities of Yale Law 
     School, its values, its civility, are the very qualities that 
     are in short supply in our country, especially in the public 
     sector. Perhaps Yale Law School has more to offer America 
     than a remarkable influx of its alumni into positions of 
     public responsibility. Perhaps the law school, its faculty, 
     students and alumni have opportunities to raise the level of 
     public discourse in America from a point which is now so 
     abysmally low.
       A number of alumni have found their way into elective 
     politics. Yet the spirit of Yale Law School is so far from 
     the reality of today's political campaigns.
       I came to this law school in 1960, the year of the Kennedy-
     Nixon election. I was an oddity, an open Nixon supporter. I 
     recall vigorous arguments, especially one with Mike Horowitz, 
     who later worked for Ronald Reagan. That was when he was a 
     liberal. But no arguments at law school bear any resemblance 
     to the outrage that is today's American political campaign.
       Most discussion of campaign reform centers on the financing 
     of campaigns. Most legislative efforts at reform concentrate 
     on financing. But campaign financing is such an insignificant 
     part of the overall outrage as to be beside the point. No 
     politician is going to be corrupted by a $2,000 gift to a $5 
     million campaign, and no politician is going to be more 
     honest if there is less to spend on an election.
       The sickening quality of the modern campaign has nothing to 
     do with financing. It has everything to do with format. It 
     has everything to do with the 20 second sound bite and the 30 
     second commercial, because those short bursts of emotion and 
     viciousness have become the near totality of today's 
     campaigns.
       Serious positions on significant issues cannot be expressed 
     in 20 seconds. So the public receives a steady diet of 
     frivolous positions on trivial issues. A candidate cannot lay 
     out views on reducing the deficit or reforming health care in 
     a matter of seconds. A candidate who wants to win cannot take 
     an unpopular position without the time to explain that 
     position. So politics has become a relentless quest for the 
     negative sound bite: Congressman Jones voted to cut Social 
     Security 18 times. Congressman Smith voted to raise his own 
     salary. And, along with the quest for the sound bite is the 
     officeholder's flight from any position that would invite a 
     20 second attack.
       There is no way to abolish the 30 second commercial. But 
     there is a possibility of supplementing sound bite politics 
     with longer and more serious discourse.
       In the spring of 1992, three Republican and three 
     Democratic Senators went on Ted Koppel's program, 
     ``Nightline,'' to challenge the presidential candidates to 
     appear separately on one-hour television programs to be 
     interviewed by knowledgeable questioners on the single 
     subject of the budget deficit. Our theory was that any 
     politician can duck a question for a few minutes. No one can 
     duck a question for an hour. That was just one idea about 
     campaign format; there could be countless others.
       My thought is that interested faculty, students and alumni 
     of Yale Law School might address the subject of the format of 
     political campaigns. Much of a lawyer's work is the 
     clarification of issues and the development of means to 
     address them. Those same skills could be applied to elective 
     politics. It would be possible to identify, say, three major 
     issues in a campaign, to create a format for addressing those 
     issues, and to induce or even shame candidates into using 
     that format. Raising the level of political campaigns would 
     be a worthy extension of the spirit of Yale Law School.
       A second area that cries out for a healthy infusion of 
     civility is the Senate's methods of confirming presidential 
     nominees. In saying this, I do not intend to refight old 
     battles in which I was engaged. My concern extends beyond any 
     specific individual to a system that has so run amuck that it 
     is no system at all. The only rule today is that anything 
     goes in the pursuit of ideological warfare. If you don't like 
     a person's beliefs, you have a license to destroy the person, 
     and there are no procedural protections, none whatever, to 
     protect the nominee.
       There is no right to counsel, no right to confront 
     accusers, no power to take depositions or discover documents, 
     no statutes of limitation, no rules of evidence--nothing. So 
     confirmation fights are now scrambles to get the dirt on the 
     nominee and get it into the hands of a willing media.
       This law school has watched its own family fall victim to 
     the confirmation process. If any institution in this country 
     has a cause and a duty to speak out on this obvious 
     injustice, it is Yale Law School. And it cannot matter if you 
     are a liberal or a conservative, a Democrat or a Republican. 
     It was wrong to humiliate Bob Bork and Clarence Thomas, and 
     it was just as wrong to humiliate Zoe Baird. The cause of 
     justice cannot ebb and flow with changes in ideology or party 
     label.
       Members of the law school community could suggest the 
     development of procedural safeguards that would provide at 
     least some protection for presidential nominees. At a 
     minimum, these safeguards should include the right to 
     counsel. But, formal procedures in the confirmation process, 
     however essential, are only part of the answer to what has 
     become a national embarrassment. If the humiliation of 
     nominees is the objective, ways will be found to accomplish 
     that end regardless of the procedures we develop. For 
     example, strict rules against leaking confidential material 
     have not prevented leaks. At least as important as adequate 
     procedural safeguards is a public outcry when injustice 
     occurs. The Yale Law School community can make it a point 
     to lead that outcry.
       This, in fact, was done during the confirmation struggle of 
     Bob Bork. To the great credit of the Law School faculty, 
     dozens of its members, led by Guido and John Simon, signed an 
     open letter. The letter states that, regardless of their 
     differences on whether Judge Bork should be on the Court, the 
     signers agreed that the characterization of him bore no 
     resemblance to the person they knew.
       Whether in election or confirmation contests, the no holds 
     barred approach to political controversy is rationalized by 
     the same claim: anything goes in the pursuit of victory. The 
     candidate believes that the goal of public service justifies 
     whatever means are necessary to get elected. The interest 
     group believes that a nominee is so abhorrent that personal 
     destruction is permissible. In each case, it is the same old 
     claim. The ends are so worthy that any means are allowed to 
     accomplish them.
       There are two ways to counter such rationales, both of 
     which deserve the attention of our Law School community. The 
     first is based on experience; the second on higher claims to 
     our loyalty.
       The great lesson of experience is humility. Experience 
     tells us that no political candidate ushers in the new age 
     promised in the campaign. Few packages of legislation bring 
     about the lofty goals envisioned by their sponsors.
       A few weeks ago, the New York Times ran a story saying it 
     was unclear whether the Cable Television Act lowered or 
     raised the cost of cable TV. That was my legislation. I 
     traveled the state of Missouri and beyond, telling all who 
     would listen that because of my valiant efforts, their cable 
     bills would go down. Maybe yes, maybe no.
       Consider the parable of Clyde Orton, former sheriff of 
     Pemiscot County, Missouri. This was my early lesson in the 
     limits of government. Charging the sheriff with a variety of 
     offenses against law and the public trust, then state 
     Attorney General Danforth files a lawsuit to oust him from 
     office. After a year or so in court, I succeeded. The bad guy 
     was out. The new guy looked like Marshal Dillon, clean cut 
     and strapping. It was a lot of effort, but what a victory for 
     good government. I was so proud of myself, until the new guy 
     was arrested for embezzlement.
       That is the way of public life--a series of major battles, 
     all waged with great energy and conviction, some own, some 
     lost. And at the end, one wonders, I wonder, whether the 
     victories did more good than harm, or is it the other way 
     around.
       I do not mean to sound cynical, for I am the opposite. One 
     of the great things about this country is that whoever is in 
     office, and whatever the agenda, life goes on, and life is 
     good.
       Not long ago, a person I know of Republican leanings put an 
     earnest question to me. ``Tell me,'' he said, ``is Clinton a 
     disaster for the country, or will we live through it?'' I 
     said, ``I think we will live through it.'' When you see the 
     President tomorrow, feel free to pass on my compliments.
       Here is my point. Politics is combative. It is a clash of 
     people and a clash of ideas. What makes civility possible is 
     an element of doubt that your side might be wrong and the 
     other side might be right. The implanting of that doubt is a 
     great gift, whether to law students or interests groups or 
     politicians.
       Realism that comes from experience tells us that no 
     political program deserves such confidence that it justifies 
     destroying our opponents. So does the knowledge that there 
     are higher claims to our loyalties than political agendas. If 
     political platforms do not deserve ultimate loyalty, they 
     cannot justify any means to attain them.
       Consider the case of Dennis Johnson, a middle age, 
     unemployed machinist for Greenwood, Indiana. Because he is a 
     Boy Scout troop leader, he owns a large army tent. When he 
     learned of the Great Flood of '93, he put his tent in the 
     back of his car and drove to St. Louis County where he 
     contacted the Salvation Army. He put up his tent, and for 
     nearly six weeks, cooked three meals a day for flood victims. 
     Dennis Johnson was not responding to any government leader or 
     any government program. He was responding to the claim of a 
     higher value that gives perspective on what government can 
     do.
       Earlier today, Yale Law School sponsored a panel discussion 
     on religion and law. One of Yale's professors, Stephen 
     Carter, has written a balanced book on the changing role of 
     religion in American life. I doubt that many other American 
     law school professors have written on this subject. My view 
     is that religion can have a profound effect, for ill or good, 
     on political discourse in this country. The idea that there 
     are higher norms than those achievable on the floor of the 
     Senate or at a White House signing ceremony can provide 
     perspective and ultimately humility.
       If one believes that religious values or higher ethical 
     norms can be encapsulated in political programs, that the 
     state can serve as the secular arm of the church, then 
     political discourse becomes a confrontation between those who 
     are on and those who are against the side of God. This notion 
     that God's will can be both confidently known and concretely 
     politicized is the message of the religious right. It is a 
     notion that, I believe, will never be widely accepted in this 
     country, and will always create angry reaction.
       But, if one believes that religious values or higher 
     ethical norms cannot be encapsulated in political programs, 
     that the claim of religion transcends the best government can 
     hope to achieve, that religious values are the standard by 
     which all ideology is measured and found wanting, then that 
     belief puts smug claims of moral superiority in their proper 
     place, and makes civil discourse possible.
       Yale Law School is a far cry from being sectarian or a 
     promoter of religious values, but without being so it can 
     recognize the moderating claims of higher values.
       I suspect that for Dennis Johnson, the man with the army 
     tent in St. Louis County, no politician, no political 
     program, no ideology is worth living for and none is worth 
     dying for. I suspect that most people are like him. They are 
     good people and their goodness transcends politics. 
     Perhaps the most important contribution a politician can 
     make has nothing to do with any election or with any new 
     program. Perhaps our best contribution is to respect, and 
     maybe even evoke that goodness. If so, the in your face 
     liberalism and in your face conservatism which dominates 
     today's politics is both extraneous and insulting,
       What a contrast between the warmth of Yale Law School and 
     the cold, cold world of today's politics. This community has 
     a long way to go in spreading its warmth to the world beyond. 
     But it can start. It can start by examining the format of 
     political campaigns and the process of Senate confirmation. 
     It can speak out against the injustice of humiliation when it 
     sees it. It can point with realism to the limitations of 
     ideological agendas, and to the higher values that transcend 
     political programs.
       And, in the minds of the most combative and self-righteous 
     of political adversaries, it can imprint the wonderful image 
     of its kissing dean.

  Mr. CHAFEE. Mr. President, I have always considered Senator Danforth 
to be one of the most thoughtful Senators there is in this body. When 
he turns his attention and thoughts to a problem and discusses it, I 
for one--and I think most of my other colleagues, likewise--pay 
attention to what he has to say.
  This speech which he gave, as I mentioned, at the Yale Law School 
alumni dinner, dealt with the problems that are now occurring in 
connection with not only the modern campaigns but the confirmation 
process. I think it pertains to so much that comes up before us in 
these recent days and during the last year and going back further than 
the last year.
  Mr. President, I might say I am very discouraged that it takes so 
long for these nominations to get up here. I do not think it is the 
fault of the Senate and I do not want to blame the administration 
because the administration feels it has to go through this background 
check and find out if someone paid Social Security on his or her baby 
sitter, and on an on it goes. But whatever is happening in connection 
with these nominations there comes a frequent viciousness and I think 
even an effort to humiliate some of the nominees. I think it is wrong, 
and I urge all my colleagues to read what Senator Danforth has to say 
on that subject.
  I might say, Mr. President, in passing, that something seems to go 
askew in this nomination process. I was nominated for a Presidential 
appointment in 1969. A new administration came in. President Nixon's 
administration came in. It was a new administration and of a different 
party. The President was sworn in on January 25, 1969, I was sworn in, 
having been through the entire process on January 31, 6 days later.
  They reviewed my records and they went over whatever financial 
holdings I had, and I appeared before a committee and I came to the 
Senate and was confirmed 6 days after the President was sworn in.
  Now we have a situation where from my State we do not even have the 
U.S. attorney sworn in yet, a year after the Attorney General came into 
office--or, I guess she did not come in quite a year ago--and 
discharged all the old U.S. attorneys from the other party. The Senator 
from my State, the Democratic Senator, chose a fine replacement, and 
that replacement has not even come up before the Judiciary Committee 
yet.
  So, Mr. President, I just hope we will step back and give some 
thought to this whole process, see what is going wrong, and 
particularly pay attention to the speech that was given by our 
distinguished colleague. I will just read a couple of lines from it, if 
I might.

       Whether in election or confirmation contests, the no holds 
     barred approach to political controversy is rationalized by 
     the same claim: anything goes in the pursuit of victory. The 
     candidate believes that the goal of public service justifies 
     whatever means are necessary to get elected. The interest 
     group believes that a nominee is so abhorrent that personal 
     destruction is permissible. In each case, it is the same old 
     claim. The ends are so worthy that any means are allowed to 
     accomplish them.

  And on he goes. He deplores what took place with Robert Bork. He 
deplores what took place with Clarence Thomas. And he deplores what 
took place with Zoe Baird.
  Mr. President, I have real concern over whether we are going to be 
able to attract our finest people to service in this Federal Government 
if this warfare continues as it has in the past.
  So, Mr. President, I commend to my colleagues this speech by Senator 
Danforth and hope they will read it. I hope all of us will absorb the 
fine lessons that are in it.
  I thank the Chair.

                          ____________________