In the spirit of Citizen Speech month, MakeNoLaw.org is proud to present story about a political entrepreneur featured in the Institute's recent Keep Out report:
Diana Hsieh was a blogger when few people knew what the term meant. A passionate advocate for individual rights, she launched her now-popular blog Noodlefood in 2002 while working as a programmer as a way to get herself to write regularly on political and philosophical issues. Today, Diana presides over a mini-empire of online activism including blogs, discussion groups and even a small nonprofit. A recent Ph.D. in philosophy, Hsieh regularly speaks at philosophy conferences, writes articles and podcasts on various subjects—and still manages to find time to care for a small farm’s worth of dogs, cats and horses at her home in Sedalia, Colorado.
"Although I’m not a political junkie, I just can’t bear to remain silent on some issues," said Hsieh.
If you follow campaign finance, you’ve undoubtedly heard of the latest trumped-up non-scandal involving the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. President Obama and others have accused the Chamber of using money from foreign affiliates to fund ads attacking Democratic candidates.
As both PolitiFact and FactCheck.org report, there is no evidence to support these charges. But apart from the veracity of the charges, this latest round of campaign finance hysteria raises an important question: Why should we care if foreign money is paying for political ads?
On Monday, the Washington Post ran an article linking recent increases in anonymous electoral spending to the Supreme Court’s recent ruling in Citizens United v. FEC. But as I explain in a letter to the editor of the Post, Citizens United has little to do with these increases:
Nonprofit corporations have been allowed to spend money in elections since 1986, and they had to disclose only contributions that were “earmarked” for political advertising. The only thing Citizens United changed: Corporations and unions are now allowed to give money to these nonprofits. But this is a little change, because corporations and unions were already permitted to anonymously fund issue ads discussing political candidates.
Those looking for an explanation for the increased spending on this election should focus on congressional unpopularity, not Citizens United.
But you don’t have to take our word for it. Over at Slate, political blogger Christopher Beam has reached essentially the same conclusion.
Senator Russ Feingold, co-sponsor of the Bipartisan Censorship Act of 2002 (otherwise known as the Bipartisan Campaign Finance Reform Act of 2002 or “McCain-Feingold”), has publically stated that he does not want his party’s senatorial campaign committee to pay for TV ads on his behalf, asserting "That's frankly not who I am. I don't want to win that way."
Well, great. That’s his choice to say “Please don’t speak out on my behalf,” but it’s also his party’s choice whether to run their own ads or not. It is also the choice of any other group to speak out about Feingold’s senate race. That’s kind of how the First Amendment is supposed to work. It gives all of us—not just politicians who are up for reelection— choices about whether to speak, when to speak, who to speak to and what we speak about.
Sadly, that’s not a principle the Senator embraced when he chose to sponsor and vote for legislation that placed a whole host of limits on those who want to exercise their right of free speech. If he had taken the words of the First Amendment seriously, he would have realized that’s the one choice the First Amendment does not allow him to make.
Yesterday, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel [article] reported that Rice Lake Mayor Romaine R. Quinn is scheduled to appear in court on Oct. 27 for accepting a $1,609 campaign contribution, which vastly exceeded the legal limit of $250.
But Mayor Quinn, who is only 20 years old, didn’t get this contribution from some shady developer or local businessman. He got it from his mom, Penny Hanson.
No, we aren’t making this up.
It turns out that neither the Mayor nor his mom knew about the $250 limit. Although he doesn’t face any criminal liability, Mayor Quinn will probably have to pay a sizable fine.
Campaign finance laws are unconstitutional and counterproductive, but oftentimes that is obscured by their sheer absurdity. Who in the world would think that a candidate might be corrupted by his own mother? People have issues with their parents on occasion, but they typically don’t involve influence peddling. Clean your room; wear clean underwear; choose a nice girl to settle down with—perhaps. Here’s $1,600, now give me that contract for garbage collection—not likely.
Unfortunately, courts typically don’t recognize a "this-is-idiotic" defense. Even when courts do dismiss these kinds of complaints, it’s after the accused is put through the proverbial ringer. That’s a great reason to oppose campaign finance laws: They do nothing to clean up politics, but quite a lot to scare Americans out of speaking. And that’s why we at the Institute for Justice have launched our nationwide Citizen Speech campaign.
As longtime readers of this blog may remember, the U.S. Supreme Court last Term decided Doe v. Reed, which asked whether Washington State could release the names and addresses of those who signed a controversial referendum petition. Check out IJ Senior Attorney Steve Simpson talking at Cato’s Constitution Day about what the Court did (and didn’t do) in Doe:
Tom Bowden of Voices for Reason notes a fascinating discovery about the Declaration of Independence. Early in the original draft, Thomas Jefferson changed a word to “citizens.” But because he scribbled out the original word, no one could tell what he had written until recently. Using new technology, however, scholars have identified the word: “subjects.” As Tom says, “on the brink of revolution, here was Jefferson, eradicating an important vestige of the idea that government is the master and individuals are the loyal servants.”
It seems entirely fitting to note this discovery as we kick off Citizen Speech Month. Citizens are equal before the law—equal to each other, and, importantly, to their governing officials. Subjects ask permission to speak. Citizens do not.
One of my favorite lines from the Declaration of Independence is in the bill of particulars lodged against King George: “He has erected a Multitude of new Offices, and sent hither Swarms of Officers to harass our People, and eat out their Substance.” I can’t think of a better description for all the campaign finance bureaucrats and the morass of red tape they impose on citizens who wish to speak out about their elected officials.
Enjoy the next month leading up to the election as a citizen, not a subject. Speak early, and speak often.
When Hal Heiner decided to run for mayor of Louisville, Ky., patent attorney Theresa Camoriano knew it was time to get serious about local politics. Theresa’s interest in politics had been growing for years, spurred on by both several run-ins with local bureaucrats and a general sense of frustration that government officials were not responsive to the citizens for whom they work.
In her spare time, this budding political entrepreneur took her first foray into activism by publishing The Jefferson Review, an online newsletter critiquing government overreach. Encouraged by her growing readership, Theresa’s desire to make her voice heard only intensified.
So Heiner's candidacy was welcome news: Here was someone running for office who shared Theresa’s views on the appropriate role of government and had a track record on city council to back it up. Theresa volunteered for Heiner’s campaign, handing out bumper stickers and flyers, but she wanted to do more. She wanted to tell voters about Heiner’s humility, trustworthiness and strength of character—messages not part of his official campaign, but things she knew to be true from years of knowing him.
To spread this message, Theresa and other Heiner supporters wanted to pool their money to buy radio ads. But under Kentucky’s campaign finance laws, like those of most states, this kind of political speech is illegal—unless they jump through a maze of legal hoops.