Daniel Howes: Commentary

Arrogance links Kilpatrick, New York Governor Spitzer

Bet embattled Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick never figured another pol's scandals -- namely the prostitution sting that ensnared New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer -- would affect his continuing tenure in office.

But it could.

As if Kilpatrick's State of the City address Tuesday didn't deliver enough drama, the stunning revelation that the sanctimonious scourge of Wall Street indulged a taste for high-priced hookers and paid for at least one of them to cross state lines means pressure for Kilpatrick to leave is only likely to increase now that Spitzer has resigned.

Why? Because of the standard it reinforces for today's politicians, for how far is too far, for the reminder that few politicians and no CEO in business today -- certainly not one with shareholders and a board of directors -- could pull what Spitzer or Kilpatrick appear to have and survived with credibility.

And here's another reason L'Affair Spitzer could pressure Kilpatrick: Disgraced politicians in that part of the country, if recent history is any guide, typically quit under enormous pressure, freeing their constituents to move on.

Connecticut Gov. John Rowland resigned in June 2004 amid corruption charges. Later that year, New Jersey Gov. Jim McGreevey quit after admitting to an affair with a male staffer. Spitzer, who likely used his job as a bargaining chip with prosecutors, is only the latest in that sorry East Coast line.

Doesn't work that way in Detroit -- at least not yet.

Here, the embattled mayor tries to rally his base, blames the media and says he "won't quit" on the city, even if it feels as if the city may be steadily quitting on him with each new revelation. His administration's ham-handed, I'm-not-gonna'-talk-to-them, you-talk-to-them response to each new charge only exacerbates things.

Do N.Y. pols set standard?

This wouldn't fly out in New York, considering a) their recent record of ousting tarnished politicians and b) what those same forces in the state Legislature and powerful New York media would do with the mounting record against Kilpatrick. The words "feeding frenzy" come to mind.

His readiness to look out for cronies and his philandering with a subordinate, former Chief of Staff Christine Beatty, are documented in text messages sent from his Sky-Tel pager leased by the city. Also on the record are denials, under oath, of the affair and the firing of two Detroit cops whom taxpayers paid $9 million as recompense.

Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy is circling, expected to soon charge the mayor and Beatty with perjury, if not more. Many City Council members are near revolt. Disappointed business leaders are quiet, some of them disgusted. And the mayor responds by hiring PR heavyweights and a big-time Chicago lawyer whose high-profile client, former Illinois Gov. George Ryan, is in the slammer.

If nothing else, that ought to signal where Kilpatrick, one of the smartest and most gifted politicians of his generation, thinks the arc of his story could end -- and it's not likely to be good for him and, arguably, Detroit or its suburbs.

Arrogance is tie that binds

It is risky to draw too many tight parallels between the cases of Spitzer, a former state attorney general, and Kilpatrick. They are different men in different offices with different pasts facing different kinds of allegations and vastly different constituencies.

But they do share a similar kind of arrogance that empowered each to take stunning risks. The potential consequences of their poor judgment endangers their marriages, their credibility, their political careers, their law licenses and could land one or both of them in jail.

Even if it doesn't, the fact that two bright politicians with promising futures could be so reckless and so dumb proves that in politics, as in business, the most costly sin is hubris.

Daniel Howes' column runs Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Reach him at (313) 222-2106, dchowes@detnews.com or detnews.com/howes.