Pubdate: Mon, 27 1998 Source: Salon Magazine (US) Contact: http://www.salon1999.com/ Author: David Corn, Washington editor of the Nation THE COWARD If health secretary Donna Shalala had any guts she would quit over the ban on federal funds for needle-exchange programs. But guts aren't a valued commodity in Washington Imagine you work at a research institute and discover a practice or a device that can save tens of thousands of people from a painful and life-threatening disease with no negative side-effects. You march into your boss's office and inform him of the finding. He confirms your data, and how important they are, and then says, "Sorry, no dice, we're not going to pursue this idea." Why not? Because, he answers, it may interfere with my career plans. If you had a shred of decency, wouldn't you quit and seek employment elsewhere? Well, not if you're Donna Shalala, the secretary for Health and Human Services. Last week, Shalala was humiliated by President Clinton. She was prepared to hold a news conference to announce that research confirmed needle-exchange programs effectively curb AIDS, without encouraging drug use. Therefore, Shalala was going to add, federal funding could be applied to needle-exchange programs It was a bold but sensible move. Drug-related cases account for about one-third of the 600,000 AIDS cases in this country. Based on the research, a needle-exchange program seemed a highly effective method of stemming a virus that continues to spread unabated (even as the mortality rate declines). AIDS experts fully expected the announcement to be made. Then the call came for the White House. The president had decided it was too risky politically. Despite his record high poll numbers, he apparently did not have the stomach to confront the wrath of self-proclaimed virtue czar (and ex-drug czar) Bill Bennett. So he hid behind the mouthings of his own drug czar, Barry McCaffrey, who insisted that such a move would send a "bad message" to the nation's youth. And Shalala all-too-dutifully went along. With her visibly uncomfortable advisors standing by, she held an absurd press conference in which she trumpeted the research findings about the success of needle-exchange programs but left in place the federal ban on funding for them. With more AIDS victims condemned to die as a result of such a cowardly decision, why doesn't Shalala quit in protest? If, as the supreme political overseer of the nation's health, she can't get a program that benefits the health of many people, then what is her raison d'être? And what is the point of her collecting that government paycheck? Surely, she could find another job -- and probably one that paid better. One could ask the same question of other Cabinet members who have had to gag over other Clinton policies, like welfare. One quick answer is that the United States lacks the tradition of honorable resignation found in other democracies, where senior politicians and statesmen will quit in order to express their opposition to a policy they think is dangerously wrong. Here, Cabinet secretaries are more likely to suck it up rather than walk away, even when grave matters of state are involved. There have been exceptions. Secretary of State Cyrus Vance resigned over President Carter's decision to mount the disastrous rescue operation for U.S. hostages held in Iran. Attorney General Elliot Richardson resigned rather than accept President Nixon's order to fire Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox. In more recent years, a few mid-level State Department officials left out of disgust with the policy on Bosnia. This is a slight record. Certainly, not every disagreement is grounds for a dramatic exit. But needle-exchange -- according to Shalala's own data -- is a life-and-death matter. How can she silently accede? This is not the first time Shalala has been in this spot. She was a fierce critic of the welfare law that Congress passed and the president signed in 1996. But she elected to oversee its implementation rather than turn in the keys to her office. Yet two senior Health and Human Services officials -- Peter Edelman and Mary Jo Bane -- did resign in protest. Edelman and his wife, children's advocate Marion Wright Edelman, were once close friends of the Clintons. Still, he told colleagues, in a two-sentence statement, that he had spent 30 years working to reduce poverty and could not in good conscience be part of the team implementing a policy that would hurt poor people. Edelman and Bane left without much noise, but their honorable act did earn front-page headlines. Maybe it ought to be taught in high school civics courses. Maybe Shalala herself could draw some lessons from it. It's not that she should be a drama queen and storm out of Washington screaming, "It's my way or the highway." But there is a role in the political system for a timely exit. The practice would enhance citizen confidence in the government. People would be reassured to learn that there is more to Washington than spin, careerism and self-promotion. For Shalala, such an act might restore some of her own credibility. Her office denies that politics played a role in the decision to continue the ban of federal funding for needle-exchanges. No one believes that. It's a lie. One more far-too obvious instance of a politician spinning to serve his or her own agenda (and to protect a cowardly president) rather than to maintain some integrity. To stay in her post, Shalala has to be publicly dishonest. That may serve the president. It may serve her career ambitions. What it does not serve are the people whose very lives are at stake.