Without ethics panel, lawmakers fly blind

This is the second of three editorials urging new ethical safeguards for the General Assembly.

When the only funeral home director in the General Assembly sponsored a bill to help undertakers collect on their deceased customers' life insurance, he attracted a humiliating public rebuke from senior senators.

The lawmakers cracked jokes about undertakers and mafia hitmen, but their underlying message was deadly serious: Del. Kenneth Alexander had crossed an ethical line.

The senators had a valid point. The Norfolk Democrat introduced eight bills benefiting funeral homes in 2005 and 2006 despite warnings from colleagues to use more discretion.

But Alexander was understandably angry that he had been ridiculed for a practice that has long been part of the culture at the state Capitol. Few bat an eyelid when lawyers introduce bills that affect their clients, or when bankers sponsor financial legislation. So, why should funeral home directors be treated differently?

It would be unworkable - and unwise - to prohibit legislators from introducing bills related to their professions, or to ban them from committees that oversee their occupations. One of the strengths of citizen legislators is the occupational expertise they bring to complex legislation.

But a system so dependent on the mingling of self-interest and public interest cries out for an independent watchdog.

No such animal exists in Virginia. Legislators worried about a potential conflict of interest may consult with the chairmen of the Rules committees, but those lawmakers are high-ranking partisans who may

not be viewed as trustworthy confidantes by members of the minority party.

Panels of retired lawmakers serve on ethics advisory boards, but they only meet on the rare occasion when a formal complaint is filed.

Thirty-two states have ethics commissions that provide training for newly elected legislators, offer advice and in some cases, even issue citations when elected officials behave improperly.

The idea is unappealing to many Virginia lawmakers who don't want the increased scrutiny. They ignore the fact that the real beneficiaries of an ethics commission, aside from the public, are the legislators.

Without neutral experts to guide them, some well-meaning legislators may get no warning that they are drifting into dangerous territory until their indiscretions hit the headlines and it's too late to gracefully extract themselves.

An ethics commission most likely would have given Alexander a thumbs-down on at least some of his funeral home bills.

The insurance bill, for example, doesn't pass the smell test. Alexander said he filed the bill to help a couple of funeral homes that have had trouble collecting on insurance policies. The practice is not banned in Virginia, but some insurance companies treat it with suspicion because of the potential for abuse.

The only funeral home to report difficulties to state insurance regulators is one owned by a certain delegate from Norfolk.

Another bill sponsored by Alexander in 2006 would have weakened continuing education requirements by allowing the Board of Funeral Directors and Embalmers to treat courses that "promote, sell or offer goods, products or services to funeral homes" as appropriate training for funeral home professionals.

Because that bill would have affected all funeral home directors, not just Alexander, state ethics laws allow him to sponsor and vote on the measure, which was killed. But ethics experts could have helped him weigh the merits and pitfalls of a bill that substitutes a sales pitch for professional training.

That may not be the kind of advice Alexander or his colleagues want to hear, but at least an independent ethics commission might save them from becoming the punch line of scornful jokes.

Tomorrow: How ethics commissions work