Читать книгу Bureaucracy’s Masters and Minions - Eleanor L. Schiff - Страница 8

Preface

This project is a long culmination of thought and work over many years. At the beginning of my career I did not know, of course, that I would eventually write a book on the U.S. bureaucracy. I had the honor and privilege of working in several governing institutions in Washington, DC. I served for over a year as an aide in Senator Bill Frist’s, MD, office when he was the junior senator from Tennessee, serving alongside Fred Thompson, who had taken Al Gore’s old seat. It was an incredible education. I absorbed the history of the capital with its Minton tiles imported from England at US$2 a piece on the eve of the Civil War. I was a sponge and was always observing everything around me. I saw firsthand how hearings worked, how the senator related to his constituents, how the office was run, how senators spoke to one another on the floor, and how people in power treated not only one another but also those who worked for them. I loved working in that august institution and for Senator Frist. He is a good man and always treated everyone with respect and kindness. I could not believe that providence had given me at the age of twenty-two the great good fortune of working in one of America’s governing institutions.

Little did I know that the Senate was only the beginning of my public service career. Shortly after the 2000 presidential election, Senator Frist’s senior health policy aide was asked to join the Bush transition team. After the inauguration, she received a presidential appointment as a commissioned officer in the White House as part of the Domestic Policy Council (DPC) staff working on a myriad of health-care issues—the Patients’ Bill of Rights being one of the most pressing public health issues in 2001. In Senator Frist’s office I had risen to the position as Legislative Correspondent and had done a lot of research on health care legislation, and had attended several hearings as it related to the senator’s chairmanship of the Subcommittee on Public Health of the Senate’s Health Education Labor and Pensions (HELP) standing committee. I was offered to join the senator’s now former aide at the White House as a junior staff member in the DPC. I began what turned into a four-year stint at the White House. First, I worked in the ornate Eisenhower Executive Office Building (EEOB), also known as the Old Executive Office Building (OEOB), which was built in the 1880s to house the Department of State, the War Department, and the Navy Department. It is located within the eighteen acres on which the White House itself is located and the EEOB is across West Executive (we called it West Exec). The EEOB houses almost all of the White House Staff, including personnel from the Office of Management and Budget. Most of the people who work in the EEOB were political appointees, like me, and it provides space for all of the people who support the president’s senior aides. There are approximately 1,900 people who work in the EEOB (although I’ve seen estimates as high as 4,000) and approximately 450 who work in the White House itself (including groundskeepers, secret service agents, and others). Of the top aides who work in the West Wing, it seemed as if there were approximately 200. I felt immense pride working in the EEOB and could hardly believe my incredible luck at having moved from one venerated institution in American government to arguably the center of power in the world.

The attacks of September 11 occurred on a serene and beautiful Tuesday, and it was one of my new friend’s birthday. I had baked a cake for her so that the entire DPC staff could celebrate. I got the moniker Ellie Mae cake-baker for that cake and others I brought in over the years. September 11 was the second worst day of my entire life, as confusion from the first plane hitting the Twin Towers, to seeing the second plane hit, to hearing rumors that the Pentagon was on fire. It later occurred to us that we were, in fact, a target. We quickly evacuated and had to help a staffer who was confined to a wheelchair use the very slow moving elevators and go outside to seeming safety. We stood loitering on 17th Street outside the gates of the White House compound not knowing exactly what to do. Eventually a few of us from the DPC staff walked up to Dupont Circle and we found refuge in a bar where we watched the Twin Towers collapse on television. With tears dripping down our cheeks we sat in stunned silence. Not having a cellular phone, I tried to use the pay phone to let my family in Tennessee know that I was okay but all of the phone lines were jammed as the system was completely overloaded. I did not know if it was safe to use the Metro, DC’s subway, to make my way back to the house I shared with my roommates. Eventually, I heard on the news that the subway was running, and I took the Red Line up to my neighborhood. The next day, on September 12, I rode the subway with a DPC colleague as all of us were rattled. I was not prepared to see tanks and army soldiers with big guns greet me as I exited the subway on Farragut North. Access to the White House and the EEOB was even more restricted and the soldier with whom I interacted in order to get into the EEOB made sure that my badge picture matched my appearance. It was a sobering and scary time.

Shortly after the attacks, a position came available in the West Wing for me to work directly for the president’s domestic policy advisor, who was, at the time, Margaret Spellings. I could not believe that I would have the opportunity to work in the West Wing. The office was directly above the Oval Office, called “the Oval” for short, and I had the opportunity to interact with and meet all of the president’s most senior staff. Though I had no real “power” so to speak, I performed my job diligently and became very good friends with many of my colleagues, who I still consider some of my closest friends. The workday started early, as the senior staff meeting began at 7:30 a.m., and we would work until the work was done. I was lucky in that my boss, Margaret, had two school-age children at home so she did not work at the office until late into the night unlike other people. One of my very best friends in the West Wing worked in the chief of staff’s office and she routinely worked fifteen hours a day and on weekends. The grueling pace and the adrenaline of the job not only was deeply exhausting but also very rewarding. As a junior aide, I witnessed incredible dedication from so many staff members, and our work, for the most part, was part of a huge team effort. Those are the types of crucibles where loyalties are forged, and life-long friendships are made.

One of the most interesting aspects of working in the West Wing, for me, was learning about how governing actually occurs in real time. Presidential briefings were the culmination of long policy processes and only staff who were critical to the briefing would be allowed in the Oval. I was not at that level at that point in my career, but I was fascinated to see how policy memos were written and the types of decisions presidents are asked to make. For instance, should Bush finish the work of President Clinton and the Congress and complete the budget doubling for the National Institutes of Health (NIH)’s budget? There were differing opinions on the subject. Bush enjoyed when staff disagreed as he liked to hear different sides of an argument. He did end up deciding to carry through with the doubling. It was also exciting to see topics that the DPC was working on appear in the national news and to know that I had insider knowledge about the state of several different policy areas. The papers were guessing about Bush’s decision on stem cell research, for instance. It was a thrilling experience to work on that sticky and morally fraught issue. I always marveled at getting a phone call for my boss from Air Force One, or when the caller ID would show that the President was calling (actually his secretary, Ashley Estes, until my boss was on the phone). I loved walking down to the White House Mess and collecting my lunch and seeing the Situation Room. I wanted to pinch myself as I thought how unthinkable it was that I was working in the West Wing of the White House. It was a goal I had never dreamed, and a situation I had never expected.

After Bush’s re-election in 2004, Margaret Spellings assumed leadership at the U.S. Department of Education. She asked me to come with her to the Department. It was my second foray into agency operations, as I had a very brief stint at the Department of Health and Human Services in their legislative affairs division. Working at the Department of Education made me think very deeply about the relationship between political appointees and the career civil servants. I was a Schedule-C, which was a lower level political appointee not requiring Senate confirmation, which was the bulk of political appointees across all of government. The Department fascinated me in how it operated and that policy questions were framed through the prism of politics. I was also interested in perspectives of the career civil servants. For the most part, they were incredibly dedicated professionals who were deeply committed to the mission of the Department of Education. Working in government is indeed a public service, and I often felt a sense of gratitude for the privilege of serving my country through work in government. I often wonder what my career in Washington and at the Department might have been had I stayed, but life often takes us in different directions.

When I began my graduate work, I was surprised and even chuckled a bit when faculty in my department would discount my government service as not being in any way relevant to studying American political institutions. Political scientists, as scientists, they argued look at the governing institutions from a scholarly perspective and will look at voting patterns in Congress, for instance, from a quantitative and seasoned academic perspective. Just because I had spent the beginning of my career inside of government, it did not give me any advantage in scholarship. I respectfully disagreed on those points and many others when working in the Ivory Tower, but I did not see the point in arguing with people who stood between me and my PhD. Luckily my advisor, David Lowery, who himself had worked in state government, always encouraged me to think about scholarly questions informed by my experiences in DC.

The reason I discuss the arc of my early career in government is to say that it deeply affected my perspective toward studying American government. When teaching my own students about the delegate or trustee model of representation in Congress I always give examples from when I worked for Senator Frist. The inspiration for this book stemmed from my work inside of government, and the realization that political appointees paid attention to a selective agenda, from my perspective. The work of the American people is carried out by the dedicated men and women serving in agencies implementing policy about which they may have a lot of discretion. Serving in government also made me think a lot about what a president can and cannot accomplish, as often fulfilling his agenda depends on the bureaucracy following his executive orders or other policy directives. Bureaucrats can drag their proverbial feet waiting for the current administration’s time to end if they want to retard the president’s mandates. The term the “deep state” really derives out of foreign policy describing a situation where the army, for instance, is really controlling the governing decisions independently from the political leadership; however, increasingly the term has been applied to the U.S. bureaucracy during Trump’s tenure. Though that is not entirely fair, as it is undemocratic if bureaucrats are acting independently of their political masters, I thought a lot about variation in agency oversight and attention from public officials. They cannot be paying attention to everything all the time—and much of the bureaucracy, in essence, is on autopilot. We only hear about particular parts of the bureaucracy when the proverbial fire alarm is pulled and there is a problem. Otherwise, it can often safely be ignored by elected officials.

In addition, I was quite surprised when I began my graduate training and continuing on in my academic career as a professor, how divorced the scholarship is in political science from the practice of governing. The college freshman I have the honor of teaching often have a misconception about what the Introductory American Politics class is actually from a content perspective. It is not, to their surprise, a year-long discussion about the current state of politics similar to the Sunday talk shows. It is a journey to understand how different parts of the political system interact with each other and work together. It is about learning different theories, such as Duverger’s Law or pluralism to understand politics. Furthermore, I have always found it odd that the scholarship in political science does not inform the people who are making governing decisions. In International Relations it is more likely that an academic might inform decision-makers as country experts will often have PhDs, but in American politics it is rare. At the White House there is not a staff political scientist, as there are an entire team of economists. Why is that? Largely people inside government do not understand what political scientists do nor do they have any knowledge or appreciation for the research that is performed. This is problematic on two important fronts. First, the revered Ivory Tower is irrelevant if the work it produces is not germane to the people working inside of government. Interest group scholars, for instance, could share their research with particular groups and their clients explaining why the status quo is so hard to change. Second, I think that the government could be better run with more informed lawmakers who derived knowledge from scholarship made digestible from researchers. For instance, when would lawmakers want to set up a competitive bureaucracy for a particular policy area? Under what conditions do bureaucrats have more or less discretion? How can we set up a high-quality bureaucracy that is responsive to citizen needs? Scholars have the answers to these questions, but lawmakers do not. It is incumbent, in my opinion, for both groups to have a more effective line of communication with one another. Some venues such as the Monkey Cage or 538 have tried to build this bridge, but the chasm is currently very wide, and the academy could do a better job of making important findings accessible to decision-makers. There is vanity on both sides as researchers are often disdainful of politicians, and politicians are often very disdainful of know-it-all-academics, but more interaction and conversations between the two groups would benefit everyone. Decision-makers could be better informed by research, and scholars might get more insight into the problems that decision-makers face. My experiences in government inspired this book, and I cannot imagine being a scholar of American Politics without having had that background. I am exception, however, rather than the rule.

Finally, this project is the result of years of work with the support of so many people in my life. My mentors include David Lowery, Suzanna Linn, Michael Berkaman, and Marie Hojnacki. My colleagues and friends have helped me with innumerable issues and have given wonderful advice and encouragement. I am deeply grateful to Anne Whitesell, Kevin Reuning, Mike Kenwick, Lee Hannah, Molly Ariotti, Amanda Parks, Amanda Fidalgo, and Christopher Ojeda. I thought of my White House friends during the course of this project including Anne Campbell Dudro, Lauren Vestwig Gray, Christina Wilson Altenau, Melissa Bennett, David Dunn, Terrell Halaska, Philo Hall, Anne Phelps, Aquilles Surez, Scott Evertt, Beverly Barrett, Martha Wilson Snyder, Cheryl Oldham, Vicky Schray, Emily Winland Gribble Holly Kuzmich, Diana Schact, Margaret Thompson, and Tracy Young. Other people kept encouraging me through the ups and downs of completing such a large project such as Dan White, Amy Greenberg, Elizabeth Leong, Ann Tarantino, MJ Kitt, Shamim Sinnar, Lisa Sternleib, Clare Cowen, David Atwill, Yurong (Jade) Atill, Rick Roush, and Robyn Krause Hale. I am deeply grateful to my wonderful parents, Allis Dale and John Gillmor, who encouraged a love of learning and a quest for inquiry. Growing up, many family dinner conversations involved pulling out the World Book Encyclopedia to resolve arguments. That intellectual atmosphere helped me persevere later in life. My five siblings, Sarah, Abby, Susan, John, and Matthew are a constant source of encouragement, inspiration, and friendship. I would be remiss if I did not also thank my five canine companions who, at different times over the years, faithfully sat under my desk and slept as I worked. Axon, Neuron, Cerebellum, Neville, and Dendrite kept me company and looked quizzically but empathetically at me when I tried to talk through a problem with them. Finally, I could not have even started this endeavor without the support and love of my family, especially my husband, Steve. All errors in this document are my responsibility.