VCC Spring 2021

V irginia C apitol C onnections , S pring 2021 7 See Lobbying without a Lobby, continued on page 8 Lobbying without a Lobby By Ken Jessup Traditionally, a lobbyist does much of his or her work talking to legislators, staff, and colleagues in a lobby. Indeed, that’s how the word “lobby,” a nickname for government consultants, originated. I was a lobbyist for over 20 years in the Virginia General Assembly, and sometimes in other jurisdictions, providing a voice and connection for citizens who needed an educated spokesman. It’s an honorable, and necessary profession, in spite of bad connotations that linger. This year’s lobbyists have had to make a major re-adjustment as suddenly, because of COVID 19, they were prohibited from lobbies. When I started out, the landscape, the architectures, the rules and the customs, were completely different.We sometimes stalked the old 233-year-old Capitol Building, which had several lobbies, and felt like home, complete with mom-and-pop lunchroom, and accessible press room. It even had smoking, but that really dates me. Then the building was re-modeled. It was a little confusing at first, but we still had our lobbies. Meanwhile, we hung out at the lobbies of the General Assembly Building, or “GAB,” where all the legislators had offices, and staff, whom we came to know as our best means of getting our messages to the right sets of ears. This, too, was an old building, or you might say it was two old buildings under one old roof. The GAB had its charm; it was difficult to navigate, but it had a huge downstairs lobby (including the proverbial “cloak room”) in which many important communications were made. The GAB has been temporarily been disassembled for a rebuild while legislators moved their offices (for four years) to the Pocahontas building. It was cramped, but we’re always adjusting, and we rolled on. Until COVID. Suddenly all the players are in different places, masked, and on zoom screens. How do you hang out in the lobby of zoom? We’re going to have to rethink how we do business. No more (or much fewer) receptions. No more running between the Senate and the House (one at the Capitol and the other is nine bus stops away on Broad). We believe every organization, every business, every citizen, deserves to be represented in government. How do we keep on doing that? We can phone, write and zoom, which doesn’t always work with nuance. We can visit lawmakers in their district offices, which are disclosure, many House bills were summarily dismissed without a hearing, a reality that further reduced the duration of committee meetings.) Additionally, the virtual format provided a means for the public to remotely participate in committee meetings rather than traveling long hours to Richmond. While a return to in-person legislating is desperately needed, the ability of the public to provide testimony via Zoom will hopefully remain. Virtual legislating constituted a radical experiment and, arguably, heralded an entirely new type of governance. Was the outcome functional? The question remains unanswered as Virginians take stock of new policies and weigh questions of transparency. Is the model sustainable in the long term? Not likely. Face-to-face interactions are critical to good governance, and a remote elected body carries the potential to further fray the fabric of society.While a virtual option can provide flexibility during unusual times, the return to a more cordial environment will be a welcome day in our Commonwealth. Delegate Amanda Batten represents the 96th District. She can be reached at amanda@amandabatten.com . Continued from previous page The Way I See It By David Bailey “You ask what’s lobbying like during the pandemic?” It’s challenging. It’s often fun and frustrating at the same time. It’s texting and zooming. It’s jazz . Decades ago, in the Virginia Capitol, E.H. “Judge” Williams played “Curly” better than Jack Palance in “City Slickers.” I can imagine this legendary chain smoking, gruff-talking teddy bear lobbyist held up his index finger and, with a twinkle in his eye, say, “Do you know what the secret of lobbying is? One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don't mean shit.” Silence. We ignored his ‘s’ word and waited for him to explain what he meant. And we waited. Just silence. Unable to converse with the Judge who died years ago, I reached out to a good friend Bernie Henderson and asked what he thought Judge would have to say about lobbying during a pandemic. Here’s part of his response. Judge's influence was based upon his longevity around the Capitol and his reputation for "telling it like it was." Legislators knew that he would not lie to them or mislead them;and based upon my relationship with him, I knew that he would never ask a legislator to do something that would possibly jeopardize his (or her) seat. Legislators knew he had been around for decades and he knew his stuff—they could depend upon him and trust him. I cannot remember Judge ever speaking before a committee or subcommittee. He would "drop by" offices in the General Assembly Building, never with an appointment; he would succinctly (maybe in one minute) tell the legislator whatever message about a bill, usually in a committee or subcommittee that the member was on, then say something like,"We need your help,” and I don't recall him asking for a commitment. He rarely came out opposed to a bill; he would have amendments to "fix" it. Even though he would have written those amendments, they were always "from" some member. Judge would sit in committee meetings and smile or scowl and occasionally chat with a member or someone who would speak. The Judge would have found a way to adapt to the pandemic session. He probably would have continued to build relationships and just coasted through 2021. So, the magic of Judge was longevity, integrity and dependability. One thing, or was it three, Judge? Once over coffee in Chickens he smiled and said, “You young guys are high tech. I’m high touch.” High tech for Judge was not a smart phone, a flip phone or even a pager. It was the Redbook directory, and he did not need it. So, we smiled and then watched him have someone go to the House or Senate chamber and ask a legislator to come meet with him. It happened. That was Judge. Decades after the Judge had left the scene this pandemic changed life and changed lobbying around Capitol Square. Forty senators minus one gave new meaning to a “Science” Museum. While the Speaker stood at her designated place in the Capitol the dispersed 99 appeared only on computer screens. We lobbyists played out parts in the virtual legislative sessions. And as this lobbyist pondered lobbying during the pandemic, I realized that the secret is not romanticizing the past or trying in vain to shape some idyllic future. There’s no guarantee of easy access to the decision makers. It’s jazz. It’s always been jazz. It’s not a waltz or any dance with set steps. It’s improvising. It’s riffing. It’s going with the tide not fighting the currents. It’s certainly now whining. It’s pathos then joyful. It’s virtual and it’s real. Whether pre-pandemic, pandemic or post-pandemic, lobbying is maintaining one’s integrity. The process is always jazz. David Bailey is publisher of Virginia Capitol Connections Quarterly Magazine . V V