Gone are the days of brazen Plunkitt at Tammany Hall graft and corruption, at least in most of these United States as far as we can tell. George W. Plunkitt is the infamous New York state legislator who personified turn of the 20th century jobbery that’s fueled content for more than our fill of great Scorsese films, and spoke proudly of it in a really short classic worth a repeated read. But while American corruption isn’t as openly Plunkitt-esque anymore, we shouldn’t dupe ourselves into a false sense of security as if it vanished. Clearly, as we’ve seen in events that have unfolded over the past couple of weeks, corruption didn’t go anywhere. In the case of Ferguson (which we can’t and won’t stop talking about), political crookedness was just a lot more sophisticated and less open than greedy politicians taking envelopes stuffed with money. Occasionally, we do see that happen. But the contemporary methods by which political machinists work their craft is much more subtle if not more nefarious than in years past. It’s the corruption we can’t see that’s like an overdose of odorless methane gas.
Like, for example, holding city elections in April rather than November as a slick way to consolidate and cement a racist political infrastructure in a St. Louis suburb. The white Mayor and nearly all-white city council in a city nearly two-thirds black will find all sorts of creative and legal ways to hold on to a sort of neo-plantation system at all costs – even if it stretches ethical boundaries so far that the resulting consequences explode in everyone’s face. So, they hold elections in April rather than November – the month everyone recognizes as voting time.
It depends on how we define corruption and how it has evolved over the years. The star data geeks at FiveThirtyEight would like us to think, in terms of pure numbers, corruption is down despite public perception that it’s not:
Of course, it’s hard to argue with data and the supporting science. But the picture isn’t as clear if you realize you can’t take the numbers for face value once you’ve parsed through a technical definition of corruption. Watchdog Transparency International sorts it out through broad definitions of corruption segmented into three categories: grand, petty and political. Overall, they conclude that it’s “the abuse of entrusted power for private gain.” It’s so broad that it’s argumentative. To let themselves off the hook a bit, they make a distinction each year between what is actual corruption and what is, ultimately, identified by those affected as corruption – hence the annual, and somewhat handy, Corruption Perceptions Index.
Interestingly enough, and really not so surprisingly, the United States ranks No. 19 (tied with Uruguay) out of 177 countries for its perceived level of corruption. The closer you are to the top of the list, the less likely you’re corrupt. While 19 isn’t bad, it’s still troubling that we’re not in the Top 10 given our own domestic expectations and hype. We love to clown Canada, yet they’re No. 9. Perhaps because they don’t have Ferguson, Los Angeles, New York or Beavercreek-size problems like we do.
We’re by no means near being “a failed state” as some eagerly suggest for the sake of a political argument. But a 73 score in high school would’ve meant a C minus only several points away from a D.
It is complicated: we are a large, clunky giant of an economic and military powerhouse that has its tentacles spread all over the world. We’ve got our hands in so many cookie jars that we often lose focus on keeping our jar clean. And we can talk all we want about one American identity, but we’re still an awkward soup of many different cultures co-existing in one big space. It’s hard keeping that all together; other countries in the top 20 are close to homogenous or majority-white, save 90 percent black or “Afro-Bajan” Barbados which ranks at 15.
Not that FiveThirtyEight denied the existence of corruption. And even they caution: “What if the federal government has just gotten worse at prosecuting corruption?” But it shouldn’t be so easy to dismiss public perceptions of corruption as it captures here:
Nor should we dismiss the high level of distrust in government that runs rampant these days, the byproduct of a perception of corruption that’s fueled by a sense that government is non-representative and non-responsive:
Some of us know better than others the extent of that corruption because we’re lumped targets of it: when certain political parties, for example, maintain supremacy by making it harder to access polling places by eliminating early voting or limiting elections to one weekday when it’s difficult for people to vote with inconvenient job schedules and asshole managers. Or, we see corruption in the way state legislators sneakily redraw legislative and Congressional districts in a bid to hang on to their jobs as long as possible. We can also argue that the continued presence of cash in determining political victors – rather than merit, service and well-informed ideas – is a form of corruption, albeit legal and hidden behind massively funded political action committees and shadowy tax-exempt cartels calling themselves “social welfare organizations” when they’re not. In essence, our corrupt political system, crowded with consultants, lobbyists, advocates and messaging spin masters, does it with style. It’s one reason, for example, Ukraine’s oligarchic political class has long utilized American political experts.
It’s no accident that between 2006 and 2010 – years marred by an Iraq conflict spawned under false pretense and a Supreme Court campaign finance ruling – the percentage of Americans who felt corruption was widespread rose by 16 points in just several years. Citizens may not be familiar with the exact data points or frequency by which corruption cases are alleged and prosecuted. But even those with very low political IQ, have enough sense to know when they are being played.
CHARLES D. ELLISON is a veteran political strategist and Chief Political Correspondent for Uptown Magazine. He is also Washington Correspondent for the Philadelphia Tribune and a frequent contributor to The Root. Reach out to him via Twitter @charlesdellison.