Unpaid Businessmen in Government

IN Washington last week, four congressional committees were in hot pursuit of a favorite Democratic quarry: the businessman in Government.

Senator Kefauver's antimonopoly subcommittee, investigating Dixon-Yates, beagled off after Banker Adolphe Wenzell, charging that he was an unpaid Budget Bureau consultant on Dixon-Yates financing, while remaining a vice president of the First Boston Corp., which expected to collect a $150,000 fee for financing the deal.

Two other committees probed vague charges that other businessmen in Government had used their official positions for private gain, while, before the House Banking Committee, an Administration bill to encourage businessmen to take Government jobs was having a rough time. The Administration wants to renew the Defense Production Act, which authorizes the employment of businessmen "without compensation," called WOCs in Potomac slang. (They are the latter-day successors of the famed dollar-a-year men, but receive not even the dollar since Congress in 1950 authorized the Government to accept the services of individuals without compensation.)

The Administration objected to a newly added Senate amendment barring the businessmen from policymaking posts. Commerce Secretary Sinclair Weeks warned the committeemen that the Senate amendment would prevent Government "from using the best men available." Citing the WOCs who administer 15 out of 25 industry divisions in his department's Business and Defense Services Administration, the Commerce Secretary in effect challenged the skeptical Congressmen to find a "single case ... of even the slightest impropriety." He argued that barring WOCs from policymaking posts would screen out the top men, for no top executive would make the sacrifice of entering Government service just to function as an exalted clerk.

The "conflict of interests" is one of Washington's knottiest problems. From World War I, when Senator Kenneth McKellar probed Bernard Baruch's dollar-a-year men, to the Korean war, when Congressman Emanuel Celler investigated "Electric Charlie" Wilson's WOCs, the relations of the legislators to businessmen in Government has been marked by suspicion. Through five emergencies, including two world wars, some legislators have been unable to satisfy themselves completely that the Government, in taking advantage of the skills of businessmen, was not being short-changed somehow.

Out of this twoscore years of conflict has developed a dual policy of kicking and cuddling the businessman in Government. Thus every congressional investigation of WOCs has invariably produced 1) glowing praise for their self-sacrifice and honesty, and 2) a warning against their use.

The law regarding businessmen in Government has grown muddled. The original conflict-of-interests statute, enacted in 1917, has been enforced sometimes, disregarded at other times, depending on the political climate. In 1949 the Senate refused to confirm Carl Ilgenfritz to the $14,800-a-year post of Munitions Board chairman on the ground that Ilgenfritz refused to relinquish his regular $70,000-a-year salary as a vice president of U.S. Steel.

But only a year later, others went to work for Uncle Sam, and kept drawing big company salaries without a word of protest. Furthermore, the executive orders that spell out the status of WOCs are confusing. One section sensibly directs that WOCs be used in the industry divisions where they have the greatest experience. However, another section contradicts this; it directs that WOCs work in positions where they avoid conflict between their Government duties and their past private interests. But, as every bureaucrat knows, the WOCs are most valuable in the fields that they know best. Yet, when they operate in these fields, they are most suspect.

Recently, in an effort to clarify a segment of the muddy problem, the Hoover Commission proposed a new set of ground rules. It suggested amending the conflict-of-interests laws "so that presidential appointees are not forced to liquidate lifetime business equities in order to accept federal appointment." Instead, suggested the commission, "each new appointee should take an oath that he will disqualify himself from participation in any decision which involves his company or his financial interests." But the proposal has almost no chance of being written into law. Nor would it, in the opinion of most veteran WOCs--the men who know the problem best--settle anything. The solution lies in the selection of good men who have a desire to serve. Says Mike Disalle, former OPS chief, and a Democrat: "You can't make a person honest. A fellow is either honest or he isn't." Said Engine Charlie Wilson on the witness stand during hearings on his nomination for Secretary of Defense: "If I had come here to cheat, by God, I wouldn't be here."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.