Alan K Simpson, RIP
He Held Himself and Our Nation to High Standards.
If you have integrity, nothing else matters—and if you don’t have integrity, nothing else matters. —Alan Simpson
Simpson was a big figure in every sense. At 6’7” tall, he radiated a Lincolnesque aura. Rather than deploying his physical presence in an intimidating way as some senators have done, he turned to humor and wit to persuade.
Al Simpson was a man of the West. He held fast to faith in the capacities of individuals, families, and communities. He also recognized the indispensable value of big national projects—from protected parks and monuments, to dams and reclamation, to nuclear power, and our interstate highway system. Reconciling these tendencies in real time summoned a national vision, a deft political sense, and surpassing practical skills.
Moderation and Independence
Many recall Al Simpson as a moderate in partisan politics, citing his commitment to individual autonomy on polarizing matters such as abortion regulation or gay rights. He crafted compromises on controversial legislation, including such fields as environmental protection and immigration. His tact and discretion, along with negotiation and mediation talent, were indispensable to his effectiveness.
His moderation was not that of the commonplace, bloodless, bland politician who invariably seeks a middle ground amid lines drawn by others. Simpson passionately believed in various causes and values. He did not hesitate to fight for them. He would draw the lines around which compromise could be forged.
He might be aptly described as an independent thinker and doer for whom compromise could be a vital tool.
These characteristics enabled him to work effectively with other talented senators.
During his service on the Environment & Public Works Committee, his colleagues included heavyweights such as Lloyd Bentsen, Robert Stafford, John Chafee, Daniel Patrick Moynihan, George Mitchell, and Pete Domenici.
They represented a range of regions and interests and priorities. Each was a force in their own right. Each had a distinct temperament and decided points of view. Spirited discussions occurred behind the scenes, often in proxy skirmishes of staff.1
Disagreement sometimes necessitated resolution outside of elegant conference rooms. For example, Simpson and Mitchell engaged in an extended floor debate on a key provision of the Superfund law during the reauthorization process in 1986.
Several of their colleagues took seats to observe and listen intently as two highly capable lawyer-legislators made their respective cases and dissected the arguments of the other.
The tableau was unusual then. It’s all but unimaginable now.
Amid the political dysfunction and division of recent decades, it’s remarkable to recall that major statutes of the late twentieth century—including in highly contentious issues—were enacted by massive bipartisan majorities.
A number have not been comprehensively updated since.
Generational Perspective
Simpson’s generational perspective may have helped reconcile his head and his heart. Born in 1931, he came of age amid the existential threats of the Great Depression and World War II. In contrast to successor generations, his cohort was poignantly aware of the precarity of our post-1945 national preeminence.
In the Senate, this sensibility may have been heightened by the presence of colleagues who had served in combat. As the century closed, their influence waned as their numbers declined.
Al Simpson understood that political adversaries are not enemies. One may have profound differences with opposing partisans. One may fight them on the Senate floor or the campaign trail. At the end of the day, what we share as Americans supersedes such subsidiary considerations.
Simpson’s talent for friendship encompassed many across the partisan divide. This included Edward Kennedy, a frequent sparring partner in the Senate and public forums. So too Robert Reich, a Clinton administration cabinet officer and outspoken partisan of the left.
In a Historic Tradition
One may place Alan Simpson among a select group of senators from small states who achieved an outsized national impact.
Early twentieth-century exemplars include William Borah of Idaho and George Norris of Nebraska. More recently, one thinks of Mike Mansfield, Margaret Chase Smith, Ralph Flanders, Frank Church, Edmund Muskie, Robert Byrd, and Howard Baker.
Unlike their colleagues from the most populous states, such members may achieve a notable degree of independence from interest group influence or dictation. They may earn durable public trust from direct contact with their constituents over an extended period. If they take an unanticipated or unconventional course on one or more matters, they may maintain the benefit of doubt. They may give voice to minority interests and perspectives, some of which may go beyond their state.
Regrettably, this corrective tendency is being displaced by structural changes. House and Senate elections, including in small states, are becoming nationalized. The legacy parties and their component interest groups allocate resources to candidates who adhere to their prefabricated agendas. Increasingly this is supplemented by imposition of the current variant of identity politics.
Guardians of the status quo in Washington, D.C., sustain the system in a closed loop of candidate selection, direction, and compliance. The results may serve them, though more and more Americans don’t believe our government serves us.
A Question of Character
In Washington, D.C., those who travel the high road of humility are not bothered by heavy traffic. —Alan Simpson
In recent decades we have become less comfortable discussing the character of our elected officials. Yet we all recognize, if only in our personal interactions, that it’s central to trust.
Alan Simpson was an individual of the highest character. He exhibited the integrity of a unified personality. The man you saw in public was the man you saw up close.
He was straightforward, sometimes to the point of bluntness. No one else could have written a memoir entitled: Right in the Old Gazoo: What I Learned In A Lifetime Of Meeting The Press.
He was demanding of himself and others. He recognized and redeemed his missteps and offered others grace.
The twentieth-century playwright and politician Clare Boothe Luce famously said that remembrance of even the most accomplished individuals will be reduced to a single sentence.
A first draft for Senator Simpson might be: He served his family, his state, and his nation with singular distinction.
It was no accident that President Barack Obama, of the opposing political party, turned to Senator Simpson to co-chair a commission to chart a course correction of our ongoing fiscal crisis.
It was no accident that his longtime friend, President George H.W. Bush, asked him to deliver his eulogy.
Senator Simpson’s eloquent tribute reminds us of what we’ve lost—and what we have to do.
Image Credits | Series: Reagan White House Photographs, 1/20/1981 - 1/20/1989, Collection: White House Photographic Collection, 1/20/1981 - 1/20/1989, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; Ann and Al Simpson, 2014, Public Domain, Courtesy of Cody Enterprise.
I was among the staffers assisting Senator Simpson on the Environment & Public Works Committee in 1985-86.
I remember him well. He was loved by many and admired by all. Thanks so much, Jim!
“If you can’t laugh at the mess we’re in, you’re missing the best part of being human.”