by Scott Brown
For the first month, I rented former Senator Fred Thompson’s place, but then for a while, I just slept on the couch in my office. We were so overwhelmed with hitting the ground running that I was always at work. My staff was stunned that I would crash on my couch, but to me, it was like a throwback to the days when I had moved from apartment to apartment, my stuff wrapped in a few blankets, my clothes in a small suitcase. Although I wanted to do business in a new way, I was also very conscious of keeping what worked. We kept a couple of key Kennedy staffers: a lovely lady, Emily, who had adeptly handled constituent issues; and Larry, who had for years run the mailroom. Good people are just good people. And there are some things about U.S. Senate work that are completely nonpartisan. One of the first things my staff and I did was to help a Massachusetts family whose daughter, Britney Gengel, had been killed in the disastrous Haiti earthquake. They wanted to locate and identify her body, but massive amounts of red tape had intervened. We worked with Senator Kerry’s office and Congressman James P. McGovern to help them bring her remains home.
But for years now, Congress had become increasingly partisan. The 60–40 vote split that had prevailed for over a year in the U.S. Senate had left most people on either side completely focused on the numbers. When I sat down to lunch with Joe Biden after my swearing-in, he told me that the Obama Administration couldn’t add one amendment to health care, “We couldn’t make one change because of you, Scott. We couldn’t accept one amendment because you could stop the entire health-care bill, and we needed a victory.” I told him I thought it was a deeply flawed bill, one that would hurt seniors, hurt veterans, hurt millions of people around the nation. “It’s a bill that’s crushing Massachusetts, ruining medical device companies, killing Medicare, and costing jobs.” It will likely lead to longer lines and less coverage. And it will likely worsen rather than improve care. I’ve long believed that all Americans deserve health care, but we shouldn’t have to raise taxes and expand the federal government to provide it. I asked him why they didn’t just start over. Because, he conceded, what they wanted was the political win. Biden said, “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry. We know. We know. But it’s because of you.”
The problem with the health-care bill is that it represents total government domination of an industry, and it was passed by pushing it through with a parliamentary maneuver called reconciliation, which showed a profound lack of respect for the wishes and the will of the voters.
And a lot of the bill isn’t as advertised. We’ve had hundreds of residents in Massachusetts calling my office about provisions that aren’t going to be available for three or four years. I tried to get health insurance for Ayla when she graduated from college, because the act is supposed to allow kids up to age twenty-six to use a parent’s policy, only to find that the provision didn’t take effect with the bill; it takes effect afterward. It is these types of games that have gotten the rest of the country very frustrated with Washington.
It’s the same thing with too many other pieces of legislation. It was openly said around the Senate that when now-retired Connecticut Senator Chris Dodd told President Obama that he could craft a bipartisan financial regulation bill that could get 70 or 75 votes in the Senate, President Obama told him all he wanted was a 60-vote bill. He didn’t care if they got many Republicans. In fact, he wasn’t particularly interested in getting them. In Massachusetts, where in the state senate there were only five Republicans out of forty senators, that might make sense. But in Washington, that isn’t representing anyone. Instead, the idea was to make this bill political, to be able to tag Republicans as supporting Wall Street and Democrats as supporting Main Street. It was done partly for political points and political advantage, for an issue in the November elections.
And in the intervening months, the political gamesmanship only accelerated. Throughout the summer of 2010, the Democrats brought up bill after bill, but they did so in a highly partisan way. Through parliamentary maneuvering, they refused to allow Republican senators to offer any amendments or to have even basic input. The whole point of the practice is to try to claim that Republicans are obstructionist, when the real fact is that they have frozen one side, the Republican side, out of the process. This is not solving real problems; this is political posturing and pandering, and it is only compounding the very serious problems that we face as a nation. And we have to face them together: they are our problems, regardless of party. We can’t solve them unless we all work together. But too many Democrats in leadership positions have not been interested in doing that.
And it isn’t always better from the other side. When I cast a deciding vote in favor of the jobs bill being pushed by Harry Reid because it contained an employer tax cut, conservatives pilloried me. But I don’t see my job as being obstructionist all the time; I see it as helping to get Washington moving again. And I think people on all sides have to appreciate that one of the functions of a U.S. senator is to work on behalf of the men and women whom he represents. I’m going to be true to my principles: I’m a staunch fiscal conservative, a committed tax cutter, tough on national security, but if you’re looking for someone who is going to be a full-on ideologue always marching in lockstep with his party, I’m probably not your guy. What I’ve always believed is that there are good people on both sides of all the issues, and that we should listen carefully, have a respectful debate, and find common ground where we can.
I come from a smaller state, but often I think that American political life has become too small. Increasingly, politicians are tempted to focus on petty personal attacks, on scoring political points, and on scolding the very citizens who elected them into office. We as a nation can and should do better. There are heroes in public life, and we would all do well to consider them. I think of General Dwight Eisenhower, who after helping lead America and the Allies to victory in World War II, stepped up to lead the nation in political life, bringing with him a strong commitment to his country and a steady hand. I also think often of the man who shaped my youthful decisions and still deeply inspires me, Ronald Reagan. He possessed confidence, uncommon vision, and most of all optimism. When critics mocked him for his deep faith in America and in the American people, he simply smiled and believed all the more. He lifted up our nation from the depths of economic despair and never faltered in his belief that freedom was better than tyranny. He did not ignore dissidents languishing in Soviet prisons; he gave them his support and he gave them hope. He spoke bravely for millions who yearned for a better life when he said, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.” He believed in our country at a time when it was all too fashionable to doubt America. He was a uniter, bringing people together around a shared philosophy and shared goals. Nothing says that more clearly than the phrases “Reagan Republicans” and “Reagan Democrats.”
There are still examples of this spirit of giving back today. I also think of two men in particular with whom I have had the pleasure of working. One is Mitt Romney, the highly successful businessman who decided to enter public life and to give back. He could have enjoyed his private success, but instead he wanted to share his understanding of fiscal and economic issues. He was willing to do more than he had been asked. And today, in the U.S. Senate, I am honored to serve alongside John McCain, a true war hero. John McCain could have used his family connections to leave his imprisonment in Vietnam, but instead he remained with his fellow Americans. He has devoted his life to public service and to his country. He has always looked to the greater good.
I also came to Washington with a few examples of that myself, starting with Jo Ann Sprague, the Massachusetts state representative whom I replaced. Jo Ann entered politics after serving in the military in World War II and then raising her family. While I was a Wrentham selectman, she acted as my mentor and was always someone I could call with a question. She embodied the philosophy of term limits in how she conducted her political life, and her integrity was a key lesson at the beginning of my political education. Along with
Jo Ann, I benefited enormously from my time in office with the four other Republican Massachusetts state senators, Richard Tisei, Robert Hedlund, Bruce Tarr, and Michael Knapik. The five of us called ourselves the band of brothers. Our small numbers made every day a constant battle, but we were determined to make a difference, not only to represent the people who had elected us to office, but to try to improve our state as a whole. We believed in the power and the free exchange of ideas and the need for honest discussion and open debate, something I’ve tried to carry with me to Washington.
I think today we can do better at all levels of government. I am proud that the January 2010 Massachusetts special election inspired candidates around the country to run for seats the following November. Would-be candidates and volunteers who might otherwise have sat on the sidelines got involved in the process. That is what we need to have a vibrant democracy. If my run for the U.S. Senate helped to motivate them, I am deeply proud of that. I’m glad too that so many races across the country were competitive, in some cases for the first time in years. I personally spent many weekends traveling the nation to help dozens of candidates, making rally and event appearances with them, and working every bit as hard on their behalf as I did during my own race. Many of the people running for office in 2010 were also first-time candidates for public office. They prompted debates and discussions that have benefited all of us. But after this most recent election, the time has come for the country to look forward.
When I came to Washington, I made a “no earmark” pledge. I didn’t need a piece of legislation or a Senate rule to enforce it. I made it to myself, and I made it because it is common sense. I hope as the next years unfold, both sides of the political aisle will learn from past mistakes. We do not need a dysfunctional government; we have had enough of gazing in the rearview mirror and assigning blame. What we need is a government whose top priority is to get the economy moving; spur job creation; eliminate uncertainty for business owners, families, employees, and entrepreneurs; and make sure that tens of millions of hardworking homeowners are not trapped in the housing crisis.
We need to work together to solve problems. We have been sent not to relive the past, but to work together toward a better future.
On one of my early trips back home to Massachusetts, I was walking through the airport when a woman from US Airways came rushing out of her work space. She came up to me and said that she knew the whole New England delegation. “I hope you’re not going to be one of those nutty Republicans,” she told me. I just smiled.
A little over one hundred days later, in the middle of June, the same woman vaulted out of her spot and said, “Come here.” I did, and she gave me a big hug. She told me that she thought I was doing a great job and asked me for my autograph.
I like to think that the job I’ve done is the job that I was hired by the people of my state to do—to go to Washington to represent them, to read each bill and think: How does this impact the families who sit around their kitchen tables with a stack of bills deciding which ones to pay, and how does this impact the people who work at two and three jobs to give themselves and their families a shot at a better life? In Massachusetts, with our appallingly high taxes and housing and heating costs, you can make $150,000 a year and feel like you’re barely getting by, especially if you’re trying to save for college or to help care for an elderly parent or relative. While it may seem politically advantageous to try to peg Republicans as the party of “no,” I’m happy to be guilty of saying no to higher taxes, out-of-control spending, and overreaching government.
I’ve always thought that every politician ought to have held a real job, and held one recently. It would be good if most of them could be self-employed. More of our officeholders need to know what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night worrying about whether you can make your payroll, whether you can properly compensate your employees, pay the rent, pay the taxes and fees, break even, or make a profit. I’ve done all of those things for my private law practice. If politicians had to worry about where their money was coming from, maybe they wouldn’t be so cavalier with all of our tax money, and they’d give a second thought to how hard those taxpayers have worked to earn what they dutifully send in each week or each quarter of the year.
One of my most gratifying accomplishments as a state legislator was helping the town of Needham build a new high school. The town was caught in a rule change in how schools were supposed to be built and funded, a change that would have cost the town and its residents an extra $15 million. I worked with Senate President Travaglini to exempt Needham from the rule and save the money. The unions weren’t happy, but I saw no reason to burden the town residents, who were already paying an enormous amount to try to give their kids a better place for an education. In Washington, the numbers are bigger, but the issues and games are the same. We aren’t looking hard enough for ways to save the money of all our citizens. We can do better.
I still drive myself around in my truck. It now has over 213,000 miles. In the winter, I wear the same brown barn jacket. I miss biking and running all the time, but I’ve become a gym rat in the Senate gym. I’ve tried to get to know my colleagues. Most are incredibly dedicated and hardworking, more than most people might think. I’ve built some great relationships with many senators on both sides of the aisle. While remaining true to our convictions, we are all gratified when we can find common ground. Of course, there are a few senators who are punching the clock until the next election, but not a lot of them.
I finally gave up sleeping in my office and eating cafeteria food for every meal; I didn’t go to Washington to try to shorten my life span. I now have a four-hundred-square-foot place two blocks from my office, and it feels like a college dorm room all over again.
All this has been hardest on my family. I don’t get to see my daughters as much as I would like. I’ll never get over missing Ayla play in her last senior game at Boston College or missing Arianna’s sorority’s family event. I’ll take their calls on my cell phone before I’ll take one from any politician.
My wife, Gail, has borne perhaps the biggest burden. During the campaign, there were countless rumors that she was privately coaching me, giving me TV and teleprompter training, grilling me on possible questions, working on my statements and my commercials. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The only thing she weighed in on was the Kennedy ad, and she didn’t like it. We ran it anyway. Gail and I hardly ever discuss politics. When I showed Gail and the girls the truck ad, she didn’t like that one either. We ran it, and it was a huge hit. Afterward, she shook her head and said, “I guess I just don’t know politics.” It became a running joke in our house and with my small campaign team: if you ask Gail’s opinion, and she says do it, then we do the complete opposite.
But the challenges for her magnified after I won.
Now we can’t sit down to eat in a restaurant around Massachusetts without being interrupted. I enjoy meeting all the people, but she’d like a little privacy. Even at the end of one of my triathlon races, people stop us for photos and autographs, and Gail becomes their photographer. She does this with grace and good humor and makes everyone feel special, as only she can. Still, for the moment, the peace and anonymity we once enjoyed are very much gone. When we were invited to the White House correspondents’ dinner, I thought Gail looked beautiful, but her dress was ridiculed on the Web. It was deeply hurtful to me and to her. It was a level of scrutiny of a spouse that I can’t understand.
When Gail went back to work in the news department of her TV station in Boston, her e-mail inbox was deluged with requests for me—people looking to contact me for help with some problem—or with criticisms of me, or with messages from people just sounding off on some issue. They went to her instead. She spent hours replying that they needed to contact my office and giving them the contact information. Once, when she was out on a story involving a suspected homicide, a local police representative came up and began yelli
ng at her, demanding that she tell me that the police need to get more federal grant money, even though I had been in Washington for only a couple of weeks. It’s been hard for her, after all those years of working so diligently on being objective, of doing her job while I did mine, to suddenly be caught up in my new profession. But the hardest part was the separation. When I was a Massachusetts legislator, I didn’t have to spend my weekdays in another part of the country; each night, I came home. Gail and I both suffered under the separation. Our girls are grown and out of the house; we are empty nesters; and with my new responsibilities, each of us had to make the transition largely alone. Wanting to be together, in the summer of 2010, Gail made the very difficult decision to leave Boston for now and go to work part-time for a local Washington, D.C., news station, covering stories that have nothing to do with politics. She’s the one who has made the greatest sacrifice, who has upended her life for me.
I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say that the pressure of national politics is intense and thoroughly unrelenting. But then I think to myself: I could be a spectator in the nosebleed seats, or I could be down on the court in the middle of the game. I’ve always chosen the court. If there’s a battle, I want to be in it, diving for the ball, for my team, ready to take the last shot.
There is a core set of beliefs that have shaped my thinking since the beginning of my service in public life. They are uncomplicated and straightforward. I believe that government is getting too big. We have too many laws, and we don’t need more of them. I have always felt that we need to get rid of some of our laws and streamline the ones we keep, and we need to better enforce the laws that we have. Some legislators like to trumpet all the bills that they have introduced and passed, but I like to start by improving what we have, by fixing problems and offering amendments to make things clearer, simpler, and better for the people who have to live with the law’s effects. Expand our economy and defend our jobs; don’t expand our government and defend wasteful spending.