Wisconsin Learned Its Lesson About Tommy Long Ago

By: Eugene Kane

There's been some grumbling nationwide about the unimpressive performance of our current secretary of health and human services.

That's no surprise here in Wisconsin. We've seen Tommy Thompson's act before; it's old news.

So while the rest of the country sought comfort - and accurate information - from the man in front of the microphones during the early days of the anthrax health crisis, many back in the Dairyland state probably reserved judgment.

When Thompson was governor, we discovered, just because he said something was going to happen didn't necessarily make it so.

After all, he's the one who told us welfare reform would be the salvation for both taxpayers and the truly poor.

His much ballyhooed W-2 plan was supposed to build a bridge for the poor to meaningful work while eliminating the rampant abuses of the system.

What we got instead was a confusing and incompetent muddle of a welfare program that took millions of dollars from taxpayers and transferred them to bureaucrats - often in the form of obscene bonuses - while abandoning thousands of poor people who opted out of the so-called "reform".

If Thompson had admitted W-2 was about dropping caseloads through obfuscation and treating welfare recipients with contempt, it would have been a roaring success. But he's not made that way.

He's a politician; he sells the sizzle, not the steak.

Same thing for his vaunted Supermax prison. Thompson told us the super-prison for those already in prison was his version of "get tough on crime" writ institutionally large.

A maximum-security prison for the dregs of the prison population - real incorrigible types like mass murderers, homicidal maniacs and other demons.

Didn't turn out that way.

According to reports, the Supermax doesn't hold the baddest of the bad. Sometimes, it's not even the meekest of the bad.

About 21% of the prison population at the $47.5 million super-safe prison in Boscobel doesn't fit the initial description offered by Thompson of "real bad actors." More troubling, others have been found to be mentally ill and with no business at the facility.

Because Thompson as governor was big on welfare reform and building prisons, his public comments were considered politics as usual.

No real harm done if the state's chief executive played fast and loose with the facts; his fat-cat supporters and cronies only looked at the bottom line.

Now that he's the guy in charge of making sure your next envelope doesn't kill you, his tendency not to really know what he's talking about could be a matter of life and death.

You don't need to interview lots of top officials or government insiders to realize Thompson's act hasn't been playing that well.

Since his first appearances on the national scene, he's made embarrassing gaffes that were swiftly contradicted by those in the know. Instead of improving, Thompson sank deeper into the muck.

His misstatements about the level of preparedness for a national biochemical threat were roundly criticized. And he failed to act swiftly on behalf of possible exposed postal workers when anthrax was first detected. Two people died.

White House insiders told a New York Daily News reporter that the Bush administration is "increasingly unhappy" with Thompson's performance, "whose rambling style comes across as anything but reassuring".

He's bombing so badly, one Chicago columnist has already suggested Bush "trade" Thompson for New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani.

After his less-than-stellar performances, the former Wisconsin governor seems to have been pulled back a bit. And we're seeing more and more of Tom Ridge, the so-called head of homeland security, who's also stumbled a bit.

(Doesn't anybody brief these guys before they appear at briefings?)

It's getting so bad, you almost feel sorry for Thompson. Until you remember that this is a guy who never really had much sympathy for people he deemed incompetent. Now, the tables are turned; he's got to face the music.

I pounded Thompson frequently during his time as governor, but most people outside Wisconsin carried no such baggage when first encountering him. They judged him on what they have seen. It's the truest measure I can imagine.

He's failed on most accounts.

But don't blame Thompson, who never wanted to accept the health and human services spot. Word was he wanted head of transportation, although, given how our national transportation system was also thrown into turmoil following Sept. 11, that was destined to be no easy gig, either.

The problem, as I see it, is the tradition of handing important cabinet positions like health and human services out as political war prizes instead of trying to find the best qualified person for the job.

Has it ever seemed more vital to have someone with major experience in public health or medical matters acting as head of health and human services than it does now?

Thompson is known for his humble Elroy background, a background that leaves him open to unfair and malicious inferences about his intelligence and urban sophistication.

That's a cheap shot; he's not ill-prepared to manage the greatest public health crisis in our country's history because he's from Elroy, Wisconsin.

He's ill-prepared because the culture of Washington, D.C., is to use cabinet positions as patronage jobs for loyal supporters. Clearly, nobody anticipated how much Thompson's qualifications - or lack thereof - would matter in times of real national crisis.

If you're a D.C. postal employee - or any postal employee - who learned guard dogs in the Capitol were tested for anthrax before you were, how much faith would you put in any comments from the health and human services chief? Probably not much.

Here in Wisconsin, we learned that lesson a long time ago.