A Fighting Chance

When we left, I asked Dan if he could take care of the follow-up work. Dan said he would do his best. Then he paused, evidently deciding that it was time for me to learn the facts of lobbying life. I could tell I was about to get another more-bad-news-from-Dan speech.

Dan explained that when the lobbyists showed up to talk with someone in Congress, they always brought a group. But the well-dressed men and women who strode up and down the hallways weren’t the whole team. They were just the front line, the smooth talkers and beautiful smilers whose job was to make friends and persuade people. Behind them was a phalanx of support staff that worked for the lobbying groups, law firms, trade associations, PR partnerships, and financial institutions all over town—a whole second squad that we never even saw. It was their job to help make sure that before the lobbyists on the front line walked in the door, they knew everything about the congressman’s background: how he had voted, who was on his staff, and where those staff people had worked before. The back office also helped provide information about the congressman’s home district, including the number of people employed by banks, the names of the local bankers, and a summary of the local newspaper’s editorials about the financial crisis.

Once they sat down with a congressman, the frontline lobbyists generally made a highly individualized presentation. Ideally, the presentation would be handled by someone who had either served in Congress or had worked for a member of Congress. For important meetings, stars would be rolled out. The CEO of a major bank might pay a call. Local bankers might be flown in from the home state. The younger lobbyists were instructed to take notes and build relationships with the staffers in the congressman’s office.

Following the visit, the lobbying team would confer. Questions from the congressman? Have the team do a full research workup, write a memo, hand-deliver it, talk with the congressman’s staff about it, and make follow-up calls. More arm-twisting needed? Write up notes to provide guidance for the next conversation, and start making plans for the next visit.

And up against all that, I had Dan.

I was certain that Dan was as smart and hardworking as anyone at any Washington lobbying firm—probably more so. But Dan was one person.

That was a humbling summer, and it didn’t feel like we were making much headway. Lots of other terrific consumer advocates were out there banging on doors, too; the nonprofits were doing everything they could to stand up for consumers. But the nonprofits were just that—groups with no profits. Their resources were modest and their staffs were stretched tissue thin. And they weren’t focused on only the consumer agency; they were trying to act as watchdogs on behalf of the American people for the entire financial reform bill—and a gazillion other issues to boot.

Meanwhile, the megabanks just kept pouring more money into their campaign. According to one source, the financial industry was spending more than $1 million a day on lobbying and campaign contributions during their drive to kill any meaningful financial reform.

I still wonder how such a thing is possible.

In addition to all the lobbying money, the industry was ponying up huge contributions for the reelection campaigns of influential members of Congress. Consider the House Financial Services Committee, the group that would determine the basic shape of the financial reform bill. That committee had seventy-one members. Why so many? One congressman explained it in simple terms: “It’s a great place for a congressman to raise money. The banks pay.”

Do they ever.

By July, health care reform was at center stage, and it looked like the financial reform legislation would be delayed until fall. The banks used the time to double down on their lobbying efforts, and they seemed to be concentrating their efforts on eliminating the provision they hated the most: the consumer protection agency. As the campaign continued to heat up, one of the lobbyists gave a blunt assessment of the banks’ intentions toward the agency: “Our goal will be to kill it.”

The rhetoric pitched into high gear. At one point, Congressman Hensarling, my fellow panelist on COP, wrote a furious op-ed in which he declared that the consumer agency was “a great assault on consumer rights” that was “positively Orwellian.” Seriously? Orwellian?

We knew the banks—and a number of Republicans—were gunning for us, but we didn’t slow down. AFR drove ahead, the consumer groups continued fighting, and Dan and I kept at it. Some days I felt like a door-to-door salesman. “Hi, my name is Lizzie and I’d like to show you a great new agency!”

Dan and I pushed and pitched and pushed some more. And when I’d catch the seven-thirty plane back to Boston, Bruce and Otis would be waiting for me, and Sal would always have fried clams and a light beer ready at the Summer Shack.

Credit Scores, In. Car Loans, Out.