The Worst Legislative Body in the World?

Is it time to retire Council’s title as the worst legislative body in the free world? Maybe. In a national environment that has knee-capped executive branches from Washington to Harrisburg to City Hall, the body has proven able to step up, mounting coherent critiques that are a far cry from the guttural bellowing that once characterized Council debate. Which is not to say everything is just fine and we can all rest easy. The tendencies that make City Council a lousy advertisement for democracy — the special favors, the status-quo chumminess, the safe incumbency — are alive and well. And no one’s very eager to get rid of them.

IT’S EASY TO MAKE FUN of City Council. I should know. During the years I spent as a beat reporter there, I was never sure what I enjoyed most: Was it the substantive outrages, like the time Jannie Blackwell compared good-government legislation to McCarthyism? Or was it the theatrical eruptions, like the time future federal inmate Rick Mariano channeled his inner Al Pacino, ranting that “this whole process is out of order!” and looking like he was about to slug an elderly colleague? Was it legitimately harmful traditions, like the one that grants individual members veto power over zoning in their respective districts? Or was it the goofy folkways, like the hours Council spends on meaningless resolutions celebrating Scrabble players, commemorating Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month, and lauding a local visit by Billy Dee Williams?

I actually preferred the quieter -bizarro-world moments. Like the time Jack Kelly, the otherwise somnolent Northeast Republican who fashions himself Council’s friend of the animals, advertised an ill-fated proposal to ban foie gras by employing an argument more powerful than anything PETA ever used: “I’m not a big fan of liver, anyway.”

Council mockery is an old Philadelphia tradition. For years, the only question has been what insult to hurl: Former Inquirer columnist Steve Lopez called Fran Rafferty dumber than a sack of groceries. Successor Tom Ferrick labeled Donna Reed Miller dumber than a stick. But the one that stuck came from former mayor Bill Green, trying to impose budget discipline during a crisis that resembles today’s. “The worst legislative body in the free world,” Green called Council. Like many who watched the brawling, budget-busting, Abscam-tainted Council of yore, Green insists things have gotten a lot better. Then again, his son, Bill Green IV, is now a member.

Drop in on the average Council meeting, and it doesn’t take long to realize it’s still not exactly Hamilton and Madison at Independence Hall. Unless, that is, the founders pre-scripted their sessions, as Council does. Literally. Check the transcripts: After each opening prayer — no matter whether it’s by Brother Ledger, Rabbi Isaacson or Pastor Burns — Council president Anna Verna thanks the guest minister for an “inspiring invocation.” And then, week in and week out, she gives a shout-out to the handful of spectators: “We appreciate your taking the time to join us as we attend to the legislative affairs of our city. We certainly invite you to come again.”