They waylaid the Federal Election Commission’s networks. They crashed computer systems that publicly disclose how billions of dollars are raised and spent each election cycle by candidates, parties and political action committees.
As minutes turned to hours, the FEC found itself largely defenseless against what may be the worst act of sabotage in its 38-year history. The government had furloughed all 339 agency employees, save for the presidentially appointed commissioners, and not even one staffer had been deemed “necessary to the prevention of imminent threats” to federal property, the minimum measure for keeping someone on the job.
And it happened just months after an independent auditor commissioned by the government warned that the FEC’s information systems were at “high risk” to infiltration — a charge the FEC roundly disputed, saying its “systems are secure.”
This hacking ordeal, confirmed by three government officials involved in an ongoing investigation that included the Department of Homeland Security, marks the nadir of a year that ranks among the commission’s darkest, according to a six-month investigation by the Center for Public Integrity.
An analysis of thousands of records and interviews with more than 50 current and former commissioners, staff members and associates reveals:
The commission over the past year has reached a paralyzing all-time low in its ability to reach consensus, stalling action on dozens of rulemaking, audit and enforcement matters, some of which are years old.
Despite an explosion in political spending hastened by key Supreme Court decisions, the agency’s funding has remained flat for five years and staffing levels have fallen to a 15-year low.
Analysts charged with scouring disclosure reports to ensure candidates and political committees are complying with laws have a nearly quarter-million-page backlog. Commissioners themselves are grappling with nearly 270 unresolved enforcement cases.
Staff morale has plummeted as key employees have fled and others question whether their work remains relevant. Among top FEC jobs currently unfilled or filled on an “acting” basis: general counsel, associate general counsel for policy, associate general counsel for litigation, chief financial officer and accounting director. The staff director doubles as IT director.
As the nation heads into what will undoubtedly be the most expensive midterm election in history and a 2016 presidential election that, in no small way, has already begun, the FEC is rotting from the inside out.
Bitter ideological warfare among commissioners and congressional and White House indifference have yielded an agency less able to fulfill its stated mission: to “prevent corruption in the federal campaign process by administering, enforcing and formulating policy.”
Two newly minted commissioners, Republican Lee Goodman and Democrat Ann Ravel, have pledged to find common ground and work to strengthen the FEC’s standing. Odds are that they’ll lead the agency next year as chairman and vice chairman. The other commissioners talk of the agency reasserting itself after months when the six-member commission operated with only four or five slots filled.
But plenty of folks don’t believe them. The roots of the agency’s dysfunction remain in place, reformers and some former commissioners argue. Only wholesale reforms, they say, could pull the FEC from plunging into irrelevancy.
“The commission just seems to look inward and almost wonder aloud if a decision has an ideological impact, and if so, they shy away from it,” said Frank P. Reiche, a Republican who served as an FEC commissioner from 1979 to 1985. “It’s sad — very sad — and the agency is almost doomed to failure for carrying out its statutory mission unless reform measures are implemented and adopted by Congress.”
The FEC began operations in 1975, created and structured by Congress to be independent — largely in reaction to the Watergate scandal. The fledgling agency’s mandate: enforce federal election laws, especially those that govern how political candidates, parties and committees raise, spend and disclose their money.
The agency is also tasked with administering the public funding of presidential races and standing as a bulwark against those intent on undermining fair elections. It lacks criminal enforcement authority, but uses its civil power to audit and levy fines for people and organizations that violate what’s now 229 pages worth of election laws and 550 pages of related regulations. Its jurisdiction ranges from punishing slam-dunk lawlessness — committees not filing mandatory disclosures or submitting incomplete information — to arbitrating the most esoteric, legalistic questions about cell phone use or advertisement print size or electronic money.
The FEC’s early years were hardly placid. The commission had few resources. Election law changed regularly during the late 1970s. An untested staff didn’t always perform efficiently. And unlike most federal agencies, the FEC featured three commissioners from each political party — a lineup that frequently made quick action on politically sensitive issues difficult.
“Congress created the agency to be structurally deadlocked,” said Ralph Nader, the consumer rights advocate who ran for president multiple times. “Congress is content to defer to the FEC’s paralysis. It never wanted an agency that would pinch both parties.”
But during the 1990s, as political parties injected unlimited “soft money” into campaigns and elections grew more and more expensive, the FEC’s stature soared and so did its budgets, about doubling between 1992 and 1999. The agency started posting campaign finance disclosures online, and legions of Americans outside the Beltway began using its resources for the first time. Commissioners steadily assessed more fines against non-compliant candidates and committees as commissioners, despite their philosophical differences, did often find agreement on whether someone broke a law.
In 2002, Congress passed — and President George W. Bush signed — the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act, which among other reforms banned those unlimited “soft money” donations to political parties. The Supreme Court largely upheld the law the following year despite a challenge by Sen. Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., a fervent opponent of campaign contribution limits, and like-minded allies.
But election reformers’ celebrations would prove fleeting, thanks in large part to McConnell.
By the presidential election year 2008, the FEC literally couldn’t function — only two commissioners remained on the job as McConnell demanded that the Senate vote on pending nominees as a package, not individually as Democrats wanted. Democrats sought to block the confirmation of Republican Commissioner Hans von Spakovsky, whose temporary appointment had expired and whom they criticized for backing voter identification laws and taking a largely deregulatory approach toward interpreting campaign laws.
After a half-year idled by too few commissioners to conduct business in the midst of a presidential election, the parties reached an uneasy pact. The U.S. Senate in mid-2008 then confirmed as commissioners Republican Don McGahn — a kinetic lawyer and quick-witted rock-band guitar player who abhorred campaign regulations — along with current Republican commissioners Caroline Hunter and Matthew Petersen and Democrat-backed Steven Walther, who identifies as an independent.
The youthful, lawyerly Republican bloc of McGahn, Hunter and Petersen arrived at the FEC just as federal courts began handing conservatives a string of campaign finance victories that made it easier for corporations, labor unions and nonprofit groups to directly inject money into political elections. The trio struck up friendships and forged a unified front against campaign finance reform overtures they believed would be overly burdensome, such as forcing politically active nonprofit groups to unveil their backers.
The gridlock that ensued can be traced to radically different views among the FEC’s Democrats and Republicans on how elections should be waged. The Democrats, led by FEC Chairwoman Ellen Weintraub, believed the FEC should be a strong regulatory force that checks the political influence of corporations and wealthy donors. The Republicans, led by McGahn, insisted the agency should above all ensure the free speech rights of political actors — rights they believe should include the raising and spending of big money to either promote or lambaste political candidates.
For months this year, Democrat Weintraub and Republican McGahn rarely spoke in private and frequently clashed in public, the bizarre final act of their personal drama unfolding at McGahn’s last meeting, on Sept. 12.
There, McGahn railed for an hour against Weintraub’s decision as chairman to block commissioners from debating, amending or voting on a public version of the agency’s enforcement manual that a congressional committee had demanded two years prior. The issue wasn’t even on the agenda.
Weintraub held firm. She pushed it off for another day, insisting that the matter wait until Goodman and Ravel had been sworn in.
McGahn, who resigned in September, says today’s campaign rules — especially those sparked by the Citizens United v. FEC decision — have vindicated his deregulatory philosophy, which equates political spending with free speech. The agency is on track to put more power in the hands of politically appointed commissioners and less in the hands of hired staffers — the way it should be, he argues. And what reformists decry as gridlock McGahn sees as a process through which the FEC is aligning itself with federal court decisions such as Citizens United that make it easier to pour big money into elections.
“I didn’t need this job. I came here to work, to change the way the place thinks,” McGahn said. “I was proven right time and time again by court cases.”
The cold war Weintraub and McGahn fought this year is emblematic of a radically changed dynamic on the commission in which disagreement is the norm — meaning not much gets done.
Both Republican and Democratic commissioners who served on the FEC before 2008 say that while they certainly disagreed from time to time, their relationships weren’t disagreeable. On most matters before the commission, they could find enough commonality to cobble four votes together and take action.
Come 2008, once the slots were filled, finding four votes for anything possessing a whiff of controversy became increasingly rare. During the rest of 2008, nearly 32 percent of executive session and open meeting tallies failed to reach the four vote mark, either because of absences, or deadlocks. By 2012, about 36 percent of executive session and open meeting votes lacked the support of four commissioners, and during the first half of 2013, the figure rose to 41 percent. As recently as 2007, only 7 percent of such votes had failed to reach the four vote threshold.