Monday, April 4, 1994

Tallahassee Democrat

Women Lobbyists' influence is growing



Little by little, women are getting in on some of the really big deals -- and some of the dirty ones, too.
by Barbara Ash - Democrat staff writer

When it comes to lobbying, women play the game just as hard as the men. But it's the men who run the high-stakes tables.

If you need someone to steer a pro-business amendment through a reluctant committee, Jodi Chase is among the toughest. But if you need a last-minute favor from House Speaker Bo Johnson, call her boss at Associated Industries of Florida, Jon Shebel.

Women lobbyists acknowledge that even among the top women in their field, you won't find one who's attained the rank of "super lobbyist". That title is held by men like Shebel, John French, Guy Spearman, Ron Book and Jack Cory. They command six-figure fees from clients such as Anheuser-Busch, Phillip Morris and Alamo Rent-A-Car.

But Capitol insiders insist it's changing. They say that especially in the past eight years, women like Chase, Martha Barnett, Sandi Walters, Mary Ann Stiles, Keyna Cory and Amy Young have made noticeable cracks in the glass ceiling. Individually, they represent such clients as IBM, the Florida Bar Association and AIF.

"Our time is coming," said Chase, who's been fighting for the governor's health-care reform package and against a bill that pits insurance companies against trial lawyers, one of the nastiest battles this session.

"These days," she said, "it seems you can't make a deal on a big bill without at least one woman involved. We're getting in on all the big ones -- and the dirty ones."

Women have now been around long enough to have built relationships. But what's made the big difference for them is what's made a difference for men: money.

Women are now advising clients on where to spend major campaign dollars. And like other successful lobbyists, they've begun to raise money for candidates from both parties.

Still, women are aware that the perception -- women still need help from men -- is the reality.

Take, for instance, a strategy meeting in early March at which lobbyists were working on the bill that pitted business against the formidable Florida Academy of Trial Lawyers.

A woman lobbyist recounted what happened when the trial lawyers offered to explain their position.

"We contemplated having them come over," she said. "Then we looked around the room and saw that there were mostly women present (Another woman lobbyist) said: 'No offense, but if we're going to do that, we're going to have to have a few more men in here.' The clear implication was that we needed the heavy-hitters, our bosses."

In the end, they decided they didn't need the meeting.

Early friendships ensured future access for men

For lobbyists, access to power is the difference between success and failure. In an industry where access comes with the length of friendships and the depth of clients' pockets, women still pay the price for getting in the game late.

Until the last decade, there were only a handful of women lobbyists. Most of them represented "soft cuases." Now, they're getting in to big-league hard-ball: AIF, IBM, the Florida Greyhound Association.

Still, women never have enjoyed the same networking opportunities that men have.

Guy Spearman of Cocoa started his career as an aide to then-Gov. Reubin Askew 25 years ago, and go to know Bo Johnson when the House Speaker was an aide to then-U.S. Sen. Lawton Chiles. Tallahassee attorney John French began his career as a legislative staffer in the late '60s and another protégé of Askew.

Over the years, male lobbyists have frequently cemented friendships with lawmakers with lavish gifts, and all-expense-paid hunting and fishing trips and Super Bowl junkets. Today, they're reaping the benefits of longstanding friendships. Those friends who were freshmen legislators 10-12 years ago are now legislative leaders.

But the women pioneers are starting to catch up.

Holland & Knight attorney Martha Barnett, who represents IBM and the Phosphate Council, and AIF's Mary Ann Stiles, also an attorney, were the only women representing business in the '70s. They remember having to fight hard for recognition and respect.

Amy Young recalls those days well. When she started lobbying on pre-natal care in 1982, legislators would listen to her.

But when she approached them for Martin-Marietta, "they thought the information I was giving them couldn't possible be reliable," she said.

Women who fought for social issues had trouble just getting in a legislator's door. Nikki Beare recalls how she sat for hours watching men file in and out, while she waited to explain the Equal Rights Amendment.

"Years ago, men wouldn't pay attention to women," said Gayle Andrews, who covered the Legislature and Florida politics for WCTV from 1973-89. "They fought the ERA like crazy. You know if they did that, they weren't going to take women seriously."

"Women had to struggle to get men to pay attention to their issues, because they were too busy looking at their bodies," said Andrews, who now owns a media consultant company.

Intense sessions take toll on normal lives

Sandi Walters has seen a lot of women lobbyists come and go during the 14 years since she became the first woman to open her own firm.

"When you sign on to be a lobbyist, your life is consumed for that two-month period," the annual legislative session, she said. "A lot of women don't last because of the stress. Competition is fierce, and they feel like they're fighting the battle alone. Because they're female, they think they have to fight harder and be better."

Even Chase, who's proud of the nicknames her colleagues have stuck on her -- "In-Your-Face-Chase" and "Attila the Honey" -- admits lobbying is the kind of job that requires nerves of steel and thick skin.

"Two times this session I had bills I had to argue against the attorney general in the judiciary committee," she said. "Here's this man who everybody respects standing there, and I had to look him in the eye and tell him he was wrong. That's a pretty scary thing, but if I stopped to think about it, I'd be too afraid to do it."

But Chase the tiger is also Chase the mother. Three years ago, she went into labor on the fourth floor of the Rotunda with her second child, Adam. She rarely sees him, or his 5-year-old sister, Jackie, during the week.

"This business is real hard on families," said Chase, over coffee in the Capitol's snack bar, where she waited for a draft of the health-care reform bill and took calls on her tiny cellular phone.

Sometimes she feels guilty about the toll the job takes on her family.

"But, I'm also proud of what I do," she said. "I think my children will have great role models, because they have parents who support and help each other, and a mother who doesn't let the world take control of her."

Women explain the power of politics

Women lobbyists are learning to take control of the legislative world with campaign contributions. They've always recognized the value of deep pockets -- especially during the frenzied final weeks of a session. But until recently, they haven't had a say in how the money is spent.

"Women are just now starting to get the big clients who contribute to campaigns, and that's made a definite difference," said Walters, sitting on a bench in the Rotunda, where she traded quips with former House Speaker Don Tucker, now a lobbyist.

Her client list includes the Florida Bar, and Florida Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, which doesn't make political contributions.

Amy Young is luckier. Her clients, including Ashland Oil, Kraft General Foods and the Florida Medical Association, rely on her to tell them which legislators they should back. It makes a difference when you influence the purse strings.

"Raising money is a way of making sure people who get elected support your issues. And early money is most important -- and longest remembered. It helps with friendships," said Young, a top money-maker for Chiles' 1990 campaign. She's already compiling a list of candidates to put her clients' money on this summer.

Competition among lobbyists for the big clients who have the big bucks is fierce, says super lobbyist and lawyer French, who represents Philip Morris, Burger King, Florida Power & Light, and the Florida League of Hospitals.

"If a Fortune 500 client has a big issue and a lot at stake, they want to go with a known entity," he said. In most cases, that's been men.

But the good news, says French, is that women are getting more exposure since the emergence of team lobbying.

Clients discovered, he says, that it's impossible for a lone lobbyist to have a rapport with all members of the legislature, that it's better to build a diverse team. The result has been more women and minorities in the arena.

"Now," said French, "the Amy Youngs and Jodi Chases have the opportunity to walk the walk and show clients that they can play at first-team levels.

"Women who stick around will reap the benefits of the contacts they're making now. You'll see women on the super-lobbyist list in the next five years. It's inevitable."