Tallahassee, Florida
AS I’M USHERED into Jeb Bush’s office in the state capitol, I’m struck by two things. First, how cramped it is in here: A midlevel bureaucrat in Washington would be insulted to have an office this skimpy. Second, how big Jeb is: He’s a lot taller and broader than his more famous brother. This guy could postup Bill Clinton. And in politics, height is a definite advantage. Anyway, as we sit with two of his aides talking about the state’s fiscal crisis and the governor’s political philosophy, our knees are practically knocking into each other for lack of space. Later it occurs to me that Jeb’s cubby-hole office is symbolic of the state government he is hell-bent on trying to create in Florida: lean, functional, and without extravagance. “Our intention is to clear away all the governmental obstacles to creating prosperity in this state,” he assures me. “That’s our mission.” Although he is just beginning his second term after a lopsided victory over Democrat Bill McBride, the Florida governor has accomplished a lot of that mission already. The state budget has grown only modestly, despite a heavy influx of immigrants and tax refugees from the Northeast. Bush has cut business and property taxes by $1.8 billion–no meager achievement given that Florida is already a low-tax state and one of only nine without an income tax. The economy’s performing well: Although Florida was hit especially hard by 9/11, thanks to its large tourist business, it is currently creating new jobs at a faster rate than any of the other 10 largest states. There have been non-economic victories too: Bush has launched one of the most successful and acclaimed school-choice projects in the country. And two years ago Bush torched the Florida trial lawyers by signing one of the most pro-consumer tort reform laws in the nation. No wonder he’s rated one of the two best governors in America–Bill Owens of Colorado is the other–on the Cato Institute Fiscal Report Card.
In short, Jeb Bush is riding high in the saddle. He’d be sizzling hot even if he weren’t the son and brother of presidents. Though Jeb loathes any such comparisons, his policy record is light-years more impressive than George W.’s was in Texas at a similar stage in his career. W. governed in Austin as if his administration were a basketball team clinging to a four-point lead in the fourth quarter. Jeb’s whirlwind pace of gutsy policy initiatives in Tallahassee is more like a team that’s down with two minutes to go. He wants big plays. “Jeb is first and foremost a policy entrepreneur,” beams former Florida House speaker Tom Feeney, now a congressman. “Among all the governors, he’s this generation’s Tommy Thompson.” Oh, and unlike his brother, Jeb doesn’t boast about things like being “misunderestimated”–in English or in Spanish.
It’s not for nothing that the third son of George and Barbara Bush is the odds-on favorite to be the Republican presidential nominee in 2008. And yet, Jeb remains something of a mystery. Which is what brings me to Tallahassee. I’m here to find out what America’s fastest political comet actually believes. Is he a compassionate conservative or a Barry Goldwater anti-big government libertarian? When I ask him this very question via e-mail (his favorite form of communication), he answers, “I suppose I’m more of a compassionate conservative.” But that’s far from the whole story.
On the one hand, Jeb is a bully-pulpit social conservative. He’s unapologetically pro-life. He talks incessantly about resurrecting and strengthening the family. The urgency of this message may well be related to his daughter’s highly publicized drug problems and the pain this has brought to his own loved ones. And his rhetoric has become markedly more spiritual of late. Take this passage from his inaugural speech in January:
While I am the one who takes this oath of office today, when we leave this place your responsibility is as sacred as mine: Through our example and our deeds we should strive to shape our society through kindness and caring. In our businesses we should give moms and dads time to be parents with children. In our hectic daily lives, we should fiercely guard a time for selflessly helping the most vulnerable and needy. In our private moments alone, we should reflect on our unearned gifts and rededicate our lives to those around us. In a thousand ways we can be more accepting, more giving, more compassionate.
There’s that blasted word again, which has recently supplanted liberty as the GOP’s guiding star. But even when he talks about strengthening families, the governor says he wants it done through a renewal of personal responsibility, and not by creating new bureaucracies. As if to punctuate this point, Jeb says his goal is to “embed in society a sense of caring that makes government less necessary.”
But there is more than compassion here. During our conversation, Jeb volunteers wistfully: “You know something? With every passing day that I spend in this office, I’m more persuaded that big government programs are a false solution to our societal problems.” I suspect he’s just saying what he knows I want to hear; after all, he is a politician. But, in point of fact, this politician has the downsizing record to back up the enticing rhetoric.
Consider the state budget crisis. When I ask Jeb how he’s handling the crunch, he seems almost insulted. “We don’t have a budget deficit problem here.” In fact, he boasts, “we’re going full steam ahead with the next phase of our business tax cuts.” Florida, it turns out, is one of only five states that isn’t combating a hailstorm of red ink right now and one of only three that is cutting taxes this year. “Our tax cuts helped keep the budget in balance, by preventing a big build-up in spending during the boom years,” he figures. Let New York and others raise taxes, he laughs. “It’s to Florida’s economic advantage.” He’s mystified by Republican governors who are raising taxes. “Do they really think that higher taxes will bring jobs back? I’d say they should be cutting taxes, like we are.”
Jeb’s got a knack for leading the legislature (which is dominated by the GOP, though Florida Senate Republicans have even less backbone than U.S. Senate Republicans) in the direction he wants it to go. Last year when the state Senate passed a huge sales tax hike, he not only fought the Republican-sponsored proposal, he even walked the halls of the capitol to round up “No” votes. The bill failed 95-0 in the House.
Nothing defines Jeb’s priorities better than his A-Plus school choice program, or what he calls his “supply-side education policy.” This plan to rescue failing schools was enacted over the thunderous opposition of the Florida teachers’ unions. (Jeb stubbornly refused to let any legislation pass until he got his bill.) The A-Plus program makes it possible for parents in school districts that receive an F grade in consecutive years to put their kids into private schools. Jeb eagerly flips out a chart from his briefcase. The numbers are staggering: In the first year of the program, there were 78 F schools. Now there are fewer than 20. “That’s the impact of competition,” Jeb proclaims. “I would bet that we’ve gotten more results out of the $300,000 that we’ve spent on these vouchers than most states have from $3 million in conventional education spending.” He’s probably right. W. should see these numbers.
Of course, the guy isn’t perfect. Like all successful politicians, Jeb has a calculating side. Last year, in order to dig out of a revenue hole created by 9/11, he suspended a scheduled cut in business taxes, which led to a mini-revolt among right-wingers in the House. But his biggest snafu came in his first year in office, when he refused to back a civil rights initiative to ban racial preferences. His excuse was that he didn’t want to alienate minority supporters. “Jeb really pulled the rug out from under us,” fumes one conservative leader who promoted the initiative. For that escapade, he gained a reputation as not entirely dependable.
One thing, however, is certain. If Jeb’s second term in Tallahassee is anywhere near as successful as his first, he could waltz into the White House five years from now, perhaps even protesting (as he often does now) that he’s not really interested in the presidency.
Free-market conservatives could do a lot worse. At the end of his inaugural address in January, Governor Bush laid out this vision for the legislature: “There would be no greater tribute to our maturity as a society than if we can make these government buildings around us empty of workers; silent monuments to the time when government played a role larger than it deserved or could adequately fill.”
As far as I’m concerned, Jeb can’t get to Washington soon enough.
Stephen Moore is president of the Club for Growth.
