How to survive a Senate confirmation (Part III: The hearing)

When I tried to apply the lessons

Finally, the big day arrived. I walked as confidently as I could into the large room in the Senate office building where my confirmation hearing was to begin.

I hadn’t counted on all the cameras and reporters bunched up in front of the witness table. C-Span. CNN. Reporters on their knees, taking notes. It would be hard enough to fight the impulse to show the senators how smart I was. Could I resist the temptation to show all of America?

After introductions, Senator Ted Kennedy, the committee chairman, served me some easy questions about school-to-work apprenticeships and worker training. Then Kansas Republican Senator Nancy Kassebaum wanted to draw me into a discussion of government waste and inefficiency. Rhode Island Democratic Senator Claiborne Pell digressed on the subject of worker membership on corporate boards. Minnesota Republican Senator David Durenberger wanted me to talk about changes in the workplace. Ohio Democratic Senator Howard Metzenbaum tweaked me about the North American Free Trade Act. Connecticut Democratic Senator Chris Dodd wanted my views on the pending Family and Medical Leave Act. Senator Strom Thurmond asked me about unions.

I fought off all temptation. I remembered the rules: It wasn’t about my answers. It was about demonstrating respect.

“I agree, Senator.”

“I don’t know, Senator.”

“I look forward to working with you on that, Senator.”

“I look forward to reading that report, Senator.”

“No decision has been made about that, Senator, and I’m eager to have your views.”

“I will look into that, Senator.”

“Thank you for your leadership on the issue, Senator.”

It was a game of tennis. I was swatting the balls back as gently as I could, no matter how hard they came at me.

Then an unexpected question from Indiana Republican Senator Dan Coats: “Mr. Reich, I enjoyed reading your recent book, The Work of Nations,” he said, smiling slyly and holding up a copy. “I was interested in some of your proposed recommendations and solutions to the challenge which you outlined in Chapter 20. … I figured if I read that, I could skip the first 19 chapters.” (This prompted laughter in the room.) “The first response you suggest is to make the income tax much more progressive and closing what you call some gaping tax loopholes, and in doing so, you reference Woodrow Wilson's proposal to Congress to enact a steeply progressive tax code with the top rate of an individual as 83 percent. Is this the kind of proposal you're going to be advocating to the Clinton economic team relative to how to deal with this basic challenge that we face?

Don’t defend yourself. Don’t lecture. Don’t take the bait.

“No,” I said, without elaboration.

His smile broadened. “I’m happy to hear that.”

But further words welled up inside my throat and then out my mouth. “The President-elect's set of economic proposals include an increase in the marginal tax rate on families with an adjusted gross incomes of $200,000, up to 36 percent.”

Coats said 36 percent sounded good compared to 83 percent, snarking “It's a tried and tested political technique to offer a high number and have everybody say, ‘Wow, it's only going to be 36 percent.’”

He continued, a snake slowly coiling around its victim, referring to another chapter of my book where I argued against making sharp cuts in the federal budget deficit. “Why is that so wrong, when the President-elect has made it one of his top priorities?”

C-Span and CNN were broadcasting this. The world was watching. Now was my chance to give the lecture of my life:

If it weren’t for twelve years of Republican supply-side economic bullshit, no one would be worrying about the budget deficit to begin with. Besides, if public investments like education and job training and infrastructure are deducted from government spending, and if the remaining amount is expressed as a percentage of the whole economy, it’s not nearly as large a problem as it might seem. And if we cut defense spending as we should — now that the Cold War has ended — and taxed the very wealthy at the rate they were taxed as recently as the 1970s, we could both lower the deficit and have a large pot of money to help all Americans get the skills they need for higher wages.

Instead, I took a deep breath and told myself not say any of this. Remember the rules!

“President-elect Clinton is committed to reducing the budget deficit.” I paused, amazed and relieved at my self-control. Yet I couldn’t resist making a tiny provocative point: “The objective … is to move from too much public and private consumption to a greater degree of public and private investment. That's what will get our country back on the right economic track.”

Shit. I’ve invited a debate.

Coats saw his opening and rushed in. “Would entitlement spending on Medicare and Medicaid be investment or consumption?”

Coats and I both knew that Medicare and Medicaid costs were soaring and that no one had any idea how to slow them. Clinton still hadn’t figured out an approach. I had to be very careful.

“Well, again, that's an issue that I want to leave for -- for the -- for the President-elect.” Stop here, I told myself. But my mouth kept going. “At this very moment, he and some of his advisers are working, developing the package which members here will be -- have an opportunity to examine and be involved with, so I don't want to -- I don't want to spill the beans, I don't want to get out ahead of him.” The voice in my head told me to cease, but I couldn’t. “The criterion for separating consumption and investment is to determine what spending is merely enhancing the well- being of people here today and what is building the future productivity of the nation?” Don’t say another word!

Coats lunged at the opportunity to expose the contradiction at the heart of Clinton’s economic policy: “It seems to me just on the face of it that we have some incompatible goals here: A pledge by the President-elect to halve the budget deficit while indicating substantially more investment … I can't see how you can accomplish that without a very substantial reduction in entitlement spending.”

Ted Kennedy interjected, the chairman’s prerogative. “As you know, 85 percent of the increase in entitlement spending is on health care, and that's only a quarter of the federal budget. You could cap it today and all you'll do is shift the costs onto the private sector … We all understand these issues are complex. …” Kennedy signaled Coats’s turn was over. He wasn’t getting another try. “Senator Simon?”

I could have drowned. Kennedy saved my life.

The hearing ended a half hour later. I survived. Flashbulbs exploded all around.

I could see my burly chief interrogator across the hearing room. He was beaming. I couldn’t reach him in the crowd, but our eyes met. He pointed his thumb straight upward.