In recent weeks, some of Florida’s deep-pocketed interests have been asking for refunds — specifically money they gave to former Sen. Jack Latvala, who resigned on the heels of a sexual-harassment probe.
Duke Energy, for instance, wants its $40,000 back or donated to charity.
Tampa Electric said the same of the $55,000 it gave to one of Latvala’s political committees.
Duke noted its money had “come from our shareholders,” reported the Tampa Bay Times.
Boo-freakin’-hoo.
I’m not sure I could come up with a less sympathetic victim.
Politics is awash in special interests who try to buy favors from elected officials. And now that one of those officials is out of office — and unable to do them favors anymore — they’re crying foul? Give me a break.
Yet many eyes are on Latvala, who collected millions in contributions and may keep on spending much of it — even though he has no actual campaign in progress.
Welcome to the world of the “zombie” campaign — where a campaign ends, but the spending continues.
The Times recently teamed up with WTSP and its family of TV stations to examine this issue at the federal level, finding 100 or so cases of congressional candidates who kept spending money long after their campaigns were dead.
Take Mark Foley, for instance. The South Florida Republican resigned in disgrace more than a decade ago amid reports he sent sexually explicit text messages to teenage pages.
Still, the Times found Foley continued to spend leftover campaign money as recently as last year “to dine on the Palm Beach social circuit,” including a $450 luncheon at the Forum Club of the Palm Beaches.
A former Kentucky rep left office, then continued to pay his daughter more than $90,000 to keep track of the finances in his zombie account. In another case, a Democratic rep from Hawaii died — and yet somehow still managed to pay an adviser $100,000 for “consulting services.” I presume a Ouija board was involved.
The investigation found many more examples of members who had been out of office for years, even decades, and yet still spent millions on football tickets, club memberships, fine dining, travel and more.
Watchdogs argue the system needs better checks and balances. They are right.
I submit, however, that zombie campaigns are merely a symptom of an overall sick political system, fatally infected with special-interest money.
See, the truth is: Most special interests don’t give a flip how their money is spent — if it goes to the politicians’ family members, travel or fine-dining bills. They just want credit for making a down payment on their agendas.
This is the reason that so many crucial issues — from mental health and human trafficking to public education and drug addiction — don’t get the attention they deserve from public officials. Because few deep-pocketed interests fund those causes.
Media can write piece after piece about life-or-death issues, such as the opioid crisis that claims a life every other day in Orange County alone. They still won’t get as much attention as a bill Walmart wants, asking for permission to sell bourbon and vodka alongside bubblegum and veggies.
The donations don’t even have to be for actual campaigns.
Take House Speaker Richard Corcoran, for instance. He hasn’t even officially announced he is running for governor yet. But he set up a political committee — and special interests quickly funneled more than $6 million into it, so he could run TV ads, trying to convince Floridians that illegal immigrants want to shoot their daughters in the face.
The interests that funded his Watchdog PAC don’t seem to care. They (Big Sugar, tobacco, Walmart, the Seminole Tribe, charter schools, beer distributors and more) just want credit for giving him boatloads of cash.
The rules for what these committees can do with this money are nebulous by design. Latvala’s Florida Leadership Committee, for instance, had a stated goal of promoting “the interests of its members” and doing “any and all things necessary or desirable for the attainment of the purposes stated above.”
What does any of that mean? Who knows? And the donors didn’t care. They funneled more than $9 million to the committee over the course of four years.
So I don’t have much sympathy for anyone who now wants it back.
The real victims of this twisted system are the citizens who can’t cut checks that big — and consequently get ignored.
smaxwell@orlandosentinel.com
