A former legislator who helped shape the Legislature's ethical guidelines and the state's campaign finance limits acknowledged before a courtroom on Friday that some of his votes as a lawmaker were swayed by large contributions, an admission that favors the state's arguments in a case that seeks to strike down Alaska's strict campaign contribution limits.
The chance for such persuasion was particularly high when former Rep. David Finkelstein was starting his eight-year legislative career in 1989, and the Legislature voted on obscure topics that had nothing to do with his northeast Anchorage district or matters he cared deeply about.
"It would inevitably affect my vote if I received $1,000 checks," from one side or another, he said, referring to the $1,000 annual limit individuals could give candidates at the time.
Finkelstein, now 60 and living in Arizona, gave that testimony as a witness for the defendant in the case – the Alaska Public Offices Commission – in a seven-day campaign finance trial before U.S. District Judge Timothy Burgess.
The civil trial, being heard without a jury, was brought by a Republican Party district committee and three supporters of Republican candidates. They say the state's campaign finance laws violate the U.S. Constitution's free-speech rights.
Supporters of the restrictions, including the defendant, say the limits reduce the chance of corruption and its appearance, helping increase the public's confidence in the state's political process.
Finkelstein, who was a Democratic representative, said he never took immediate, official action in return for money, which would qualify as bribery or quid pro quo corruption. But the big checks influenced him months or even years later, he said.
"It's almost human nature," he said.
Finkelstein said he wasn't the only one in Juneau whose votes were affected by the contributions.
"Many times – this would be standard practice – you'd have a closed-door debate on whether or not some legislation got to move forward and members would bring up that a particular interest group had contributed a large amount to them or a party subdivision," said Finkelstein.
Hoping to curtail the influence of big money in politics, Finkelstein fought for reform immediately. His work paid off during his last year as a lawmaker in 1996, when he and other lawmakers established the $500 individual annual contribution limit. It was approved after a citizens initiative that he helped launch proposed similar limits, and was gaining broad public support.
Cutting the limit in half, from $1,000 to $500, wasn't popular.
Some Democratic legislators "screamed" at him because a lower limit was strongly viewed as helping challengers and hurting incumbents, he said. Incumbents were more likely to receive the maximum donations, he told a reporter Friday.
The plaintiffs have argued that increasing the limit back to $1,000 or a higher number would benefit challengers, allowing them to raise more money to more effectively remove legislators from office.
Finkelstein told a reporter on Friday that they're wrong. He pointed out that lawmakers raised the limit to $1,000 in 2003 but voters in 2006 reinstated the $500 limit.
"Legislators raised it, and the public lowered it," he said. "It's proof that incumbents favor higher limits."
Plaintiffs' attorney Kevin Clarkson on Friday asked Finkelstein if he was corrupt for accepting $1,000 contributions – as a lawmaker before the limits were lowered in 1996 – if they increased the potential for corruption.
Finkelstein told Clarkson he didn't see himself as corrupt simply for accepting large limits that were legal at the time.
He told a reporter later that as a lawmaker he was part of the problem he hoped the 1996 legislation would remedy. The potential to be influenced by contributions was "inherent in the system" at the time, he said.
He said that potential is smaller today, because the contribution limit is half what it was.
"That's why we have these limits in place; otherwise it's a free-for-all," he said.