DN Editorial: The Campaign Trial

STATE TREASURER Rob McCord was obviously a desperate man last spring.

His bid for the Democratic nomination for governor was lagging. He had already put $2 million of his own money into his campaign. But, he needed more - mostly to pay for a series of scummy TV commercials he was launching against the clear front-runner in the race, Tom Wolf.

So, what did he do?

He started pressuring would-be givers to write big checks to his campaign. It wasn't exactly pay-to-play. It was more like pay . . . or else.

McCord threatened the potential givers with retaliation, reminding them that even if his bid for governor failed he still had two years left on his term as treasurer. "Don't think that I am so stupid that I am not going to read you the riot act down the road," he told one reluctant giver. "You know what I mean?"

We know what he meant. So did federal prosecutors, who got wind of the extortion attempt, wired up some potential givers and taped McCord's conversations.

Thus began the stunning and rapid fall of Rob McCord. He has already signed a statement pleading guilty to all charges in the case. He resigned as state treasurer. He is due to make his plea formal in the court hearing set for Feb. 17.

He could face jail time, plus sizeable fines.

In a video made when he resigned, McCord portrayed his actions as a onetime terrible mistake, a single blot on an otherwise clean record of public service.

Maybe. But McCord always was an alpha-dog kind of politician, whose aggression could cross over into bullying.

In those bizarre TV ads, which falsely accused Wolf of being a racist, he tried to dignify his actions as an act of idealism, raising vital questions that needed to be addressed. In reality, it was a pure brass-knuckles attack designed to knock Wolf out of the lead. The effort did not contain an ounce of idealism.

The misdeeds are McCord's and McCord's alone, but he was enabled by the state's "anything goes" campaign-disclosure laws, little changed since the law was enacted 37 years ago. It sets no limits on contributions and requires little else but timely disclosure. And if you don't meet even that low bar, the odds of being prosecuted - at least by the state - are close to zero. Even the fines are capped at a level that was low . . . in 1978.

For instance, even as he was bending their arms, McCord helpfully suggested to would-be donors ways that they could launder their contributions through third parties, so no one could trace it back to them. (One of McCord's targets was a lawyer in an unknown Philadelphia law firm that was on record as a supporter of Gov. Tom Corbett.)

Had the deals suggested by McCord gone through and the donations were laundered, there would be little chance they would have been discovered. In this state, we have no safeguards against washing money through third parties. Attempts to follow the money under our campaign disclosure laws often run into dead ends.

McCord's case is the freshest example of the need for the legislature to review and reform our campaign finance laws. Even if the pols in Harrisburg are reluctant to set limits on contributions, there are loopholes that need to be closed and, as important, improved enforcement and stiffer penalties.

Laws alone can't stop people like McCord from crossing the line, but laws shouldn't make it easy for them.