Nice guys finish last
Rich Miller, a journalist with 20 years of experience covering Illinois politics whose column appears weekly in Illinois Times, says Quinn’s campaign lacks a unified theme around which voters can rally. Miller says Quinn should have a campaign message that focuses on the economy, while simultaneously hammering his Republican opponent, state Sen. Bill Brady of Bloomington. Quinn could paint Brady as out-of-touch because of Brady’s past votes on issues like the minimum wage and the fact that Brady didn’t pay any income taxes the last two years, Miller says.
“There’s an old saying: ‘My candidate may be an asshole, but I’m going to make your candidate into more of an asshole,’ ” Miller says.
“Pat Quinn needs to use ethics to paint Brady as another Rod (Blagojevich). … That hasn’t been done.”
Miller says that Quinn also hasn’t defined himself as governor, which he needs to do before Brady does it for him. Former state treasurer Judy Baar Topinka got defined as “the crazy old aunt” by Blagojevich when Topinka ran against Blagojevich for governor in 2006, Miller recalls, and that cost her the election.
“When you think of Pat Quinn, what do you think?” Miller asks. “See, you can’t think of anything. That’s the problem. During a campaign, you’ve got to be able to say, ‘What do you think about this guy?’ … He doesn’t know who he is. Quinn was an outsider, but he didn’t govern as one; instead he’s kind of a failed hybrid, and he has squandered the opportunity to at least appear as someone who puts the people first.”
Charlie Wheeler says Quinn didn’t seem prepared to govern when he took over after Blagojevich. Wheeler explains that Speaker of the House Michael Madigan sent a list of talking points on impeachment to House members the summer before Blagojevich was removed from office, but Quinn didn’t seem to take the hint.
“If I were Pat Quinn, I would have been putting together a replacement government to be ready to go when Blagojevich was gone,” Wheeler says. “He’s the governor now, but he hasn’t gotten past the mindset of being the outsider trying to rally the people to all these good causes.”
Quinn plays the role of populist quite well. At every opportunity, he reminds journalists, voters and anyone who will listen that he’s working “for the people of Illinois” by calling for an income tax increase meant to prevent massive cuts to social services and education, even though the increase itself would be unpopular. He favors making party affiliations of primary voters secret, adopting a graduated income tax and several other causes that favor voters over politicians and the disadvantaged over the powerful. Talking one-on-one, he is personable and gracious, flashing a genuine smile to voters who inter rupt
his sentences to ask for a picture with him at the State Fair. And despite his high achievements, he has retained a down-toearth style that fits his everyman image. His voting address in western Chicago is a modest, nondescript two-story brick house with only one bathroom. When he first ascended to the governorship, he simply scratched out the “Lieutenant” on his business cards when handing them out.
Charlie Wheeler says he was very skeptical about Quinn’s motives as a reformer when Wheeler first began observing Quinn decades ago.
“I thought his goody-two-shoes political persona was just to further his own ends,” Wheeler says. “But when he became lieutenant governor, the stuff he did for veterans – going to the funerals of soldiers killed in duty and all that, without trying to maximize media exposure – impressed the hell out of me. I began to give him more credit as someone whose heart is in the right place.”
Even Rich Miller, who has little faith in Quinn’s ability to retain his office, gives the governor high marks for sincerity.
“Knowing him over the years and getting to know him a lot better now, he really is a decent man,” Miller says of Quinn. “He wants to do right very badly; the problem is he does it very badly.”
