Category: Florida

One man/one vote, you bet.

One bunch of voting men of color, creed, ethnicity or political persuasion shoehorned together for partisan political purposes, you better not.

Would that THAT were the demographic reality.

Instead, manipulating the boundaries of electoral districts–to maximize the impact of supporters’ votes and minimize that of opponents–is as old as the United States. It just took a while to name it.

For the record, “gerrymander” is actually a blend combining the name of early 19th century Massachusetts Gov. Elbridge Gerry, a Democratic-Republican conniving against the Federalists–and the meandrous-shaped salamander.

While not unique to America–democracies that use a single-winner voting system are the most likely to have compromised districts–gerrymandering is hardly the embodiment of American exceptionalism. Especially when politicians, however disguised their back rooms, have an active role in creating voting districts. We’ve seen our share right here in the not always “Sunshine” State.

But periodically we have these pangs of idealism–OK, more like non-incumbent protest, editorial board admonition and judicial oversight–that coincide with redistricting.

We’re in the throes of one of those cycles now. Only it’s turned into a legal imbroglio since a Leon County Circuit Court judge rejected the Florida Legislature’s 2012 congressional map. Judge Terry Lewis ordered that two of this state’s (27) districts be redrawn. As long as we have a Fair District constitutional amendment, reasoned Judge Lewis, we might as well be in compliance with it.

The two recently reconfigured, targeted districts are Exhibits A and B for district anomalies and why it’s so dicey an issue to address.

Take District 10. Por Favor.

That’s the one represented by U.S. Rep. Dan Webster, a two-term Republican from Winter Garden who previously served 28 years in the Florida state legislature. Judge Lewis thinks this Orlando-based district should be reworked to remove the partisan advantage that resulted when lawmakers swapped out Hispanic Democrats for Anglo Republicans.

Or take District 10. Please.

That’s the one represented by U.S. Rep. Corrine Brown, an African-American Democrat from Jacksonville who’s seeking a 14th term in Congress this fall. Judge Lewis would like to see her serpentine, sprawling district, which improbably runs from Jacksonville to Orlando, become more compact and follow traditional political boundaries.

Rep. Brown’s situation, however, is more than the usual, self-serving pragmatics. There’s an additional subplot.

Partisans have sometimes defended gerrymandering as the only means of securing any representation for minority groups. Violating local boundaries, in effect, can be seen as an acceptable tradeoff to risking a muted voice for a politically cohesive group. Politics as usual, shall we say, for a greater good. How ironic.

The Legislature said it won’t appeal for now. Most observers think any resultant changes will come after the 2014 elections. Judge Lewis can order up more maps, await a Legislative re-drawing or retain a special master to do the drawing and fine-tuning.

But at some point, both political parties need to be part of a transparent solution. No more salamanders, no more Rorschach-test patterns. Just sanely drawn districts that define meaningful democracy and don’t traffic in demographic herding.

If that is to happen, a key player will be Rep. Brown.

She teamed up with self-serving, pragmatic Republicans to carve out a safe, heavily African-American district for herself, and she doesn’t want to risk losing it. And she’s no fan of Judge Lewis, even evoking the 1964 Voting Rights Act–and contending that it not only protects minority voting rights–but that it “supersedes the state’s Fair District standards.”

But if Judge Lewis’ ruling and subsequent orders carry the day, and re-adjusted, constitutionally-conforming districts–including one that is less African-American–result, Corrine Brown will have ironically helped make it happen.

Consummate underdog Nan Richwon’t win the Democratic gubernatorial primary. She has comparatively little money, insufficient statewide name recognition and no debate forums to upstage Charlie Crist.

But she won’t be without impact.

In addition to keeping Crist tacking to the left, the former state senator from Weston said some things on the campaign trail recently that we’ll likely hear again. Among them: comparing Crist to an “apparition who has no solid substance.”

It’s just the sort of line we’ll likely see in the fall on a Rick Scott campaign ad.

Maybe it really was a breakdown in communications. And maybe Rick Scott means well.

Gov. Scott’s three-city, “Let’s Keep Florida Safe” campaign swing included, of course, Tampa. The local stop featured a requisite photo op with uniformed police as a symbolically supportive backdrop. Standard operating procedure for politicians–and backdroppers.  Only some participants say they didn’t know the exact nature of the event. Oh.

Hillsborough Col. Jim Previtera, pinch-hitting for Sheriff David Gee, said he didn’t know it was a “campaign event.” Holmes Beach Police Chief William Tokajer apparently thought the event wasn’t political.

Here’s the bottom line. Nobody’s this naive.

The gubernatorial election is less than four months out. Rick Scott is criss-crossing the state on campaign auto-pilot taking credit for everything but gulf-front sunsets. He wants law enforcement support–and he wants its “proof.” And if there’s a black, female trooper among those standing behind him, it’s not by happenstance. Of course not.

Literally standing behind Rick Scott is a personal choice–but for the likes of law enforcement personnel and teachers–it’s also a symbolic message. Knowing what we do, it’s hard to stand for that.

Some matters, such as reining in a Wall Street casino culture, taking issue with certain Supreme Court decisions or assessing climate-change ramifications, can almost seem like abstractions. Their impact may be substantial and society-altering, but in our routine lives they don’t necessarily resonate on a daily basis.

Then there’s an issue, also societally impactful, that viscerally resonates every day–at least for those of us who use a motor vehicle regularly. Texting while driving.

If you’re out at, say, 3 a.m., your chances, as you know, ratchet up considerably that an oncoming motorist may not be sober. Timing and fate are everything.

But at any hour, on any road, your chances of encountering a texting motorist are ever increasing. According to the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration, more than 400,000 people were injured in motor vehicle crashes involving a distracted driver in the U.S. in 2012. More than 3,300 died as a result. And most people in the know consider distracted-driver data grossly underreported.

Technological timing and fate are everything.

And, oh yeah, it’s been proven that drivers are better off drunk than electronically distracted when it comes to behind-the-wheel awareness. The sobering reality: Text messaging requires visual, manual and cognitive attention from the driver.

It’s been estimated that five seconds is the average time a driver’s eyes are off the road while texting. When traveling at 55 mph, for example, that would be enough time to cover the length of a football field–blindfolded. So, no, it’s not the same thing as grooming or changing radio stations.

But commuting to work or going to the store shouldn’t be an existential crap shoot.

And if you’re the parents of teens, you know all too well the implications. That some things are not totally in your control: such as teenage peer pressure–and your kids’ driving friends. We now know that roughly half of all U.S. high school students aged 16 or older text or email while driving. It’s scary.

For them. For you. For me. For us.

While there’s no rebottling the telecom genie, we can, at least–at last–see adult society responding responsibly. Federal employees are prohibited from texting while driving on government business or with government equipment. And the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration bans commercial vehicle drivers from texting while driving. But Congress balked at passing a national law banning TWD that was proposed by former Transportation Secretary Roy LaHood.

More than a dozen states, however, beginning with California in 2008, now flat out ban the use of hand-held phones while driving. That, of course, would be considered draconian, nanny-state coercion in some states, including this one.

But it’s also good news that 45 states have now made texting while driving a primary offense. In other words, TWD is sufficient reason for an officer to pull over a distracted motorist before distraction becomes a highway statistic. Same as driving sans seat belt. Click-it or ticket has worked.

The bad news: Florida is one of the non-primary five. Here TWD is just a secondary offense.

And after nearly a year as a compromise between doing nothing–in the name of not infringing on personal freedoms–and making it a primary offense, the results are in. The secondary TWD law is hard to enforce. Statewide, law enforcement officials are on pace to issue about 1,800 citations in the initial year. That’s about five per day.

And Hillsborough County fares no better. There have been 47 citations given out since the law went into effect on Oct.1, 2013. That’s about five per month.

Partisans have their own take, of course. To wit:

* “It’s unenforceable. Why bother? Besides, Big Brother shouldn’t be riding shotgun.”

* “It’s unenforceable. So, let’s replace it with something that–not unlike with seat belts–is enforceable. Let’s make it a primary offense. And, no, this isn’t about personal liberties. This is about public safety and common sense.”

Unless you want to send the message that this is all wink-and-nod placation of telecom lobbyists and personal liberty purists, you make texting while driving a primary offense. And then target violators to get the message out. There’s precedent.

Unless, of course, you happen to think lives unnecessarily imperiled and lost is a secondary matter.

Given his protean, political labeling and blatant, ideological expedience, it was never going to be easy for Charlie Crist going up against Rick Scott. Even given the usual Scott givens: from Medicare-fraud background and arrogant, awkward persona to skewed priorities and notoriously opaque modus operandi.

But if Crist was anything, he was likable and transparent and smart.

Well, there’s nothing to like about the campaign manna he’s been serving up lately to Scott. After having made a highly publicized stand on ending the Cuban embargo and underscoring it with a planned visit to Cuba this summer, Crist has backed off. No, he won’t be going to Cuba after all. Some “timing” issues. Do tell.

More grist for the flip-flop mill instead of targeting Scott’s vulnerable record and duplicitous manner.

Then Crist allowed himself to be portrayed–ironically and inexplicably–as the less-than-transparent one because he’s holding out on releasing his wife’s tax returns. He’s on the losing end of this ersatz “privacy” issue. The spirit of the law for public officials shouldn’t preclude a spouse’s return. Whether it’s Ann Scott, Bill McBride or Carole Crist. Whether they file separately or not.

The finances–and potential conflicts of interest–of those married to the people we elect matter. A lot.

Of course, it’s only July, but imagine ceding the transparency issue to Scott right now? Crist is a seasoned, savvy pro, but he’s currently presiding over an amateur-hour campaign.

In a previous political incarnation, Charlie Crist used to be a “Reagan Republican.” If the “Gipper” were around today, he might update “There you go again.” As in serial flip-flopper.

Crist, who went out of his way to make the Cuban embargo a differentiating gubernatorial issue, has had to retract the part about actually going to Cuba this summer. He now says that won’t happen. It’s a “timing delay,” he explained. Oh.

It made prominent headlines and was flip-flop manna for the Rick Scott campaign.

Maybe it’s pathological with Crist. This was self-inflicted.  It’s also ironic. Crist is now on the right side of an issue that has intimidated statewide political candidates for decades. But the news cycle chronicles his flip-flopping–instead of his resolution to no longer allow exile politics to hold Florida hostage to Little Havana’s vendetta agenda.

Regardless of how he went about it, John Morgan’s rhetorical blindsiding of Democratic U.S. Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz over the medical marijuana amendment broke new ground. Heretofore, the congresswoman from the Miami area’s 23rd district has been given a free pass from her party and the press whenever she self-servingly goes off her liberal reservation.

Wasserman Schultz, who doubles as the chairwoman of the DNC, has done it for years over Cuba, where she has continuously sold out to exile politics that are not in anyone’s best interest outside Little Havana. Yes, she is an “irritant.”

No, All Aboard Florida is not the same thing as high-speed rail. But the irony is infuriating.

AAF is the private passenger rail venture from Miami to (eventually) Orlando. The proposed Tampa-Orlando high-speed rail, which was shot down by Gov. Rick Scott in 2011, would have been federally funded as a mass-transit/economic-stimulus parlay.

Interestingly enough, however, the recent budget signed by Scott includes $214 million for a passenger depot in Orlando that is a requisite need for AAF. The budget also includes $10 million to help pay for “quiet zones” to placate residents along the coastal route. And AAF is also seeking a $1.5 billion, taxpayer-backed federal loan.

AAF is hardly a paragon of private enterprise, and the Tea Partiers can see right through it. But this is a 2014 gubernatorial re-election year, not a 2011 election-promise pander year. Besides where else do the Tea Partiers go with their vote? Charlie Quisling?

It’s well documented that counties such as Martin, Indian River and St. Lucie are up in arms about a quality-of-life, coastal compromise to accommodate the Miami to Orlando train route. Their complaints, however, have been responded to by canned, less-than-truthful emails from Scott’s office: “The state has no involvement in this railway.”

That’s not even routine, political disingenuousness. That’s a lie.

Ironically, state non-involvement would have been more the case in 2011.

Recall that the feds would have provided $2.6 billion for the Tampa-Orlando route, covering all but $280 million of the cost. Companies vying for the contract–to jumpstart high-speed rail in America and create a self-serving marketing coup–had indicated they would cover the state’s share of the cost. Also recall independent projections that belied Scott’s “on the hook” concerns. Any contingency cost factors, of course, would have been dealt with in the bid process.

Scott pulled the plug, however, before the bids were even submitted–and successfully thwarted the Obama Administration’s plans for a national high speed rail network. The president didn’t get want he wanted, the Tampa-Orlando megalopolis didn’t get what it needed, but the new governor got the Tea Party badge of honor he coveted.

And now he’s on board with a private-passenger scenario that ostensibly has no state involvement. This might even embarrass the Tea Party.

Florida TaxWatch is an independent, nonpartisan, nonprofit taxpayer research institute whose self-appointed role is government “watchdog.” It’s supported by voluntary, tax-deductible memberships and private grants and does not accept government funding.

Now in its 35th year, Florida TaxWatch is one of those references that seems unassailable. Sort of like “accountability” or “rights” or “patriot.”

Most folks in public office say nice things about TaxWatch. Even those who occasionally don’t think nice thoughts. Why chance coming across as a self-serving, pork stalker or a naive dolt who doesn’t think government needs watching? Anyone want to sign on to that?

And yet.

Each year Florida TaxWatch releases its annual list of budget “turkeys”–or projects it deems to have been passed along by lawmakers without proper vetting. It has nothing to do with merit or value. But calling it the annual “Line Item Advisory” would be boring and bureaucratic.

Trotting out the “turkey” list is timed to the governor’s review of the ($77.1 billion) budget that was passed on May 3. Gov. Scott’s now on the clock to veto any of the 4,000 line items. Presumably, he’ll have a hard time signing off on $120 million worth of “turkeys.”

That’s because “turkey,” as we know, has unsavory connotations to the general public.

The word itself, which seduces media coverage, doesn’t imply “more follow-up” or “pause for further scrutiny” or “better vetting needed.” To most people, “turkey,” not unlike “pork,” is pretty much synonymous with waste and skewed parochial priorities. As in “bridges-to-nowhere.” As in you’d have to be clueless or in collusion to miss a special-interest agenda.

The “turkey” list impacts the Tampa Bay area. Nearly a third of the target projects are here. And the list includes, for prime example, the $12 million earmarked for Port Tampa Bay’s gantry crane project. In fact, it’s the budget’s biggest “turkey.”

Anyone who knows anything about the port knows its catalytic economic role for the region–and the state–and the need for gantry cranes to stay competitive and offload cargo from newer, ever-bigger ships. And yet, this economic-engine, port project is on the same “turkey” list as a fancy dog park in an affluent Jacksonville neighborhood, a cool-looking fountain in wealthy Palm Beach and a gaudy, 1,000-foot observation tower for tourist-targeting Miami.

Ironically, the TaxWatch report itself was very complimentary of the Port Tampa Bay project. In fact, it noted: “This economic development project, matched by private funds, should provide a positive return on investment, increase jobs and increase Florida’s global competitiveness, but was added very late.”

Oh.

Maybe it deserves an asterisk and follow-up, but a gubernatorial veto–in the context of a dog park, a fountain and an observation tower? That’s a “turkey” of a list.

There was a time, not that long ago, when the position of major university president was typically filled, after a national search, by a fast-tracking provost, hot-shot vice president or a smaller school’s president. Sure, there was always the aberration, such as Gen. Dwight Eisenhower accepting the presidency of Columbia University before that of the United States. But the exception was just that.

Then we started to see more presidential vacancies filled by those who had been working outside higher education. According to the American Council on Education, about one in five presidential openings is now filled by someone outside academia.

And some, not surprisingly, are nationally prominent public officials, such as former Oklahoma Governor and Senator David Boren at the University of Oklahoma, former Secretary of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano at the (10-campus) University of California system, former Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels at Purdue and Donna Shalala, former Secretary of Health and Human Services, at the University of Miami. Actually, Shalala had been president of Hunter (NY) College back in the 1980s.

Obviously a high profile and familiarity with serving diverse constituencies can pragmatically trump sheer academic credentials in certain scenarios. No one, for example, would second guess the decision of USF to bring in former state Commissioner of Education Betty Castor as president in the 1990s. For USF, it was a Tallahassee upgrade in clout. The university would no longer be a higher ed, hat-in-hand supplicant with a capital insider and political icon at the helm.

Having said all that, there is still the ominous sense that at Florida State University, insider power politics could be the catalyst that determines the successor to Eric Barron. Yes, there’s a head hunter on the case as well as a search committee. But increasingly it’s looking like the committee’s interview with FSU alum and current state senator, John Thrasher, will be determinative. That’s a nice way of saying it looks like the fix is in for the 70-year-old former lobbyist.

Everything and everybody else is on hold until early June when the committee votes up or down on the candidacy of Thrasher, the man chairing Rick Scott’s re-election campaign. The candidate, who as Speaker of the House, dismantled the Florida Board of Regents as a gambit to get FSU its medical school. The candidate who really, really wants this. The candidate who is no T.K. Wetherell (FSU), Frank Brogan (FAU) or Betty Castor.

What were telling–if not foretelling–were the comments of former House Speaker Allan Bense, who now runs the FSU Board of Trustees. He underscored how critical the Legislature’s support will be for FSU’s budget priorities.

“Whether we like it or not, politics is very important,” said Bense, presumably with a straight face.

FSU deserves better.