Sorry, Scandal Just Isn't There

By TOM JACKSON The Tampa Tribune

Published: May 11, 2008

There's nothing like a good scandal to spice up the campaign season. And This Space enjoys a good scandal as much as the next soulless muckraker.

The trouble is, the recent attempt by Republican challenger Robert J. Sullivan to paint Sheriff Bob White as the head of an agency out of control is nothing like a good scandal.

Then again, these are the pasta-flinging months. But in this latest attempt to find something that sticks, Sullivan, trailing substantially in campaign contributions, name recognition and viability, risks appearing desperate.

And he'd started so well.

The gripe about agency cars going home with nonsworn personnel? That was excellent, exposing the hubris of the sheriff's claim that his office was squeezing every nickel. Not only is White still picking linguini out of his hair, the revelation even precipitated a policy change.

Fifty agency cars are no longer going home, or to the 7-Eleven or Little League practice, on the taxpayer's dime. White can deny the connection from now until a gallon of gas hits 33.9 cents and we still will believe otherwise.

I'm thinking: Bob Sullivan for ombudsman.

Now he's going after the sheriff's honorary deputy program, leaning on the fact that some 60 percent of the elite 105-member posse have contributed to White's re-election campaign. Sullivan's complaint would be interesting if he could produce irrefutable evidence of mischief-making or overstepping by even one honorary deputy. He can't. The only allegation of misbehavior by an honorary deputy collapsed under conflicting witness testimony.

The fact that a sheriff's sergeant spent time investigating the claims is insufficient reason to kill a program with abundant potential for strengthening the links between law enforcement and business interests, and for expanding goodwill for the sheriff's office in the community.

Incumbency Has Its Advantages

Does it come with political overtones? Obviously, yes. Sullivan calls the practice of including campaign donors among the honored "badges for bucks."

But Sullivan's claim that it is solely and "clearly a political program" strains the imagination. Not when some 40 percent have made no donations at all, and include assorted Democrats. Not when White raised nearly $84,000 - more than $105,000 in 2008 dollars - as a challenger in 2000 with no perks to distribute. And certainly not when virtually all the contributor-honoraries are reliable donators to candidates who share White's profile: incumbent, Republican.

Even if it is primarily a political instrument, only the tender-skinned would demand that White unilaterally disarm. For better or worse, incumbency has its advantages, from the ability to generate free media to ready access to other palaces where power resides to the ability to make an impressive entrance. Think: Air Force One.

Besides, honorary deputy programs plainly fall within the powers granted to sheriffs by the state constitution. Are we repelled by the implications of such honorary fraternities? Then let's amend the founding document.

Nothing To See Here; Move Along

In that light, Sullivan's complaint is at least strained, if not downright whiny. This is a former vice squad lieutenant? A 26-year veteran? Ouch.

Still, Sullivan waxes indignant, complaining even that individuals bear the costs of the program, through a charity that bears White's name. "Think about the 70-year-old widow who donates $50 to this charity," Sullivan blogs on his campaign Web site. "She probably supposes that the money will go to help underprivileged youth or maybe a spouse abuse shelter."

Sullivan continues: "When confronted with this observation, the sheriff said … through his spokesman … that the money coming into the charity is earmarked for the [honorary deputy] program. … Alas, it is true."

Sound like an end-of-story moment? Not to Sullivan, who further complains about "wealthy businessmen" donating to the charity that pays for, among other things, an annual appreciation dinner.

"You are probably wondering why [the sheriff] would process funds this way." Actually, no, we wouldn't, for reasons soon to reveal themselves.

"We … consulted numerous attorneys. We were told that money going into a charity creates a tax deduction for the giver. If the giver … were instead to write a check directly to the [honorary deputy] program or the banquet facility there would be no deduction allowed. Hmm," Sullivan writes, "that's interesting."

Hmm. No, that's the federal tax code, and it drives behavior no small numbers of us are quick to condemn. Then again, no small number of us graduated in the bottom half of our high school classes. That fact notwithstanding, let's try an illustration:

Mr. Wealthy Businessman and his High-Powered Attorney spouse accept an invitation to the Association of Bigwigs and Bloviators Annual Benefit Ball and Banquet. It's a $100 per couple ticket. What's the real cost? If AB&B isn't a qualified charity, it's $100. If, like Bob White Community Outreach and Do-Gooders Inc., it's a nonprofit organization in good standing with the state, the ticket's real price - assuming Mr. Businessman and Mrs. Attorney are in the top, 35 percent earning bracket - becomes $65 ($100 minus $35).

Same entree, same green-beans almandine, same rice pilaf, same dessert, same live band, same ballroom. One has an absolute cost of $100, the other $65. It's a no-brainer. Nonetheless, Sullivan casts the arrangement as somehow sullied, the clear difference, he writes, between "right and wrong." Perhaps he should complain to the chairman of the House of Representatives Ways and Means Committee in Washington, D.C.

Anyway: So long as White rides herd on the honoraries, immediately confiscating the badges of demonstrated misbehavers, and makes it crystal clear to his active-duty deputies not to treat them deferentially during traffic stops or other law-enforcement encounters, This Space doesn't see a problem. Would love to, really, but doesn't.

Bottom line: This is a non-scandal in a hopeless search for righteous indignation. If Sullivan can't come up with better ammo, this is going to be one boring campaign.

Tom Jackson can be reached at (813) 948-4219.