Bud shuster is what's wrong with Washington. If you've never heard of the chairman of the House Transportation and Infrastructure Committee, he could best be described as the Interstate Prince of Pork. Once a vice president of the old RCA computer division, Shuster is the Pennsylvania Republican who gave us such demonstration projects as moving outdoor sidewalks and a four-lane road to nowhere that ran past his son's car dealership.
The source of Shuster's power is the $60 billion transportation budget, a virtual treasure trough for the nation's road builders and the public works lobby. The 13-term congressman has proven to be most adept, in a town full of legislative prestidigitators, at getting the most out of the lobbyists who come calling at the transportation committee's door.
But Shuster's cunning as chairman of a powerful congressional committee finally caught up with him recently when a House ethics panel decided he had gone too far and rebuked him for committing "serious official misconduct." Stories about Shuster's dealings with transportation lobbyists-especially his former chief of staff, Ann Eppard-have been floating around the Capitol for years.
It's not clear what turned the tide against Shuster, but it probably looks good to appear ethical just before a general election. In a 147-page report, the ethics panel found that Shuster improperly accepted gifts like junkets to Puerto Rico and misused his congressional staff for political reasons. His punishment? A slap on the wrist and a written reprimand.
That brings to mind the famous scene in the film Casablanca when Claude Rains' character expresses shock at the sight of gambling in Rick's bar just as he is handed his nightly winnings.
Shuster got off with a warning, according to the Capitol Hill paper Roll Call, because his colleagues asked the Justice Department to grant him immunity from prosecution after he refused to turn over his calendars from 1995 and 1996. According to Roll Call, Shuster claimed U.S. national security would be threatened if the details of the calendars fell into the wrong hands.
Turns out the calendars contained such vital information as Shuster's cholesterol count. Incredibly, the Justice Department granted Shuster something called "active-production immunity," shielding him from self-incrimination when the documents were finally turned over to investigators.
By consenting to the ruse, the ethics panel made a sham of its proceedings and let Shuster keep his stranglehold on the transportation budget. And despite his public flogging with a wet noodle, it's doubtful he will soon get religion. Don't look for the Prince of Pork to invest taxpayer money in public transportation or energy-efficient automobile technology.
Think about that the next time you are stuck on Silicon Valley's Highway 101 or the Long Island Expressway. Thanks to Bud Shuster, you'll have plenty of time.