John Cramer - Einstein's Bridge

A similar initiative in the Senate, led by Senator Dale Bumpers of Arkansas, had failed by a vote of 42 to 57, and the Senate had approved the SSC appropriation. Since there were differences in the House and Senate versions of the Department of Energy appropriations bill that centered on the SSC, it was the responsibility of the conference committee to iron out their differences and produce a compromise. But, as it had been the year before, the conference committee had been rigged. Speaker Foley had appointed only SSC advocates to represent the House, and, like last year, the conference committee had accepted the Senate version of the DOE bill, preserving the SSC funding.

Matthews’s group of freshman had vowed that this time the agreement would not be allowed to stand. The conference committee report had to be ratified by the House, and Matthews’s mavericks were staging a floor fight to reject the agreement.

George looked at his watch. The House vote on the conference committee report was scheduled for late today. It was now almost 5:00 p.m. He and Alice had been waiting here since four, and they might have to wait a lot longer.

George heard voices in the outer office. Joe Ramsey opened the door, and Congressman Matthews, followed by about a dozen other House members, the maverick ringleaders of the SSC opposition, filed into the large office.

Alice and George stood and he looked inquiringly at Matthews. “How did it go, Congressman?” he asked.

“We won, by God!” said Matthews. “The vote was 282 to 143. We killed the fucker! We drove a stake through its heart. The SSC project, as of about ten minutes ago, is dead as a doornail.” He walked across the room and shook hands with both of them, slapping George on the shoulder.

“We plan to submit a House resolution,” said one of the other members, “that will require the DOE dickheads to fill in the whole goddamned tunnel!” He laughed loudly.

Joe opened a false book-front wall, behind which was a bar, consulted a list of preferences, and began dispensing drinks to the members, mostly tall glasses of straight Scotch or bourbon. Alice asked for a ginger ale. Joe looked at George and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll have a small cognac, Joe,” said George. “And I’m afraid that Alice and I need to talk to Jon in private. It won’t take long.”

Matthews spoke briefly to Joe and then led them into a small conference room adjoining the office.

“Your group did very well this afternoon, Congressman,” George said. “You saw an opportunity for political advantage, and you grasped it. You killed a big expensive project that had a relatively small constituency, just a few scientists, the Texas delegation, some miscellaneous contractors, and the usual science enthusiasts.”

Matthews smiled. “And we deeply appreciate your support of our efforts, Mr. Preston.”

“To you, I know, the SSC was just another pork barrel project, a particularly big one that didn’t happen to be in your state. Somehow those Texas bastards had corralled a ten-billion-dollar project, and your group decided to slap their hands for being greedy. Ten or twenty million for a pork project now and then is okay, but ten billion is way out of line.”

Matthews nodded.

“Well, I need to explain two things to you, Congressman. The first is that your vote today was a very destructive thing for the nation. You have broken the central social contract with the scientific community of this country that has been in existence for the past five decades. For the scientists, the contract required that they work long hours, sixteen-hour days and nights and weekends, go to graduate school and live like paupers for six to ten years while they studied and worked essentially flat-out, and then move into relatively low-paying jobs, often with almost no job security, so that they can help to move forward the state of human knowledge, to gain an improved understanding of how the universe works and how we can manipulate its laws and restrictions to do new, interesting, and useful things. And they’ve been outrageously successful in this activity. The fruits of their basic research have become the mainspring of the U.S. economy.”

“Wait a damn minute,” objected Matthews. “Look at my record, George. I’ve consistently supported research, as long as it wasn’t corporate welfare or a damned Texas pork barrel project. My vote helped to save the Space Station!”

George shook his head. “The Space Station is not a scientific project, or even a good engineering project. Its construction was opposed by every major scientific professional society.

“You just don’t seem to get it, Congressman,” said George. “For people like you, the social contract with scientists required that you support real scientific activity, not some aerospace contractor welfare thinly disguised as science. As a fraction of gross national product, the support of real science in the United States is quite small, considerably less than in Europe or Japan, but it has been sufficient up to now. If and when a project has been properly peer-reviewed by impartial experts and checked out for feasibility, cost effectiveness, and likelihood of success, you’re supposed to support it. Once a project is started, you’re supposed to see it through to completion. And you’re supposed to be smart enough to distinguish between pork and valid science. In the case of the SSC, you’ve failed these tests miserably.

“You’ve blighted the plans and careers of thousands of scientists who had bet their futures on the SSC project. You’ve left graduate students without a thesis project, postdocs without a job or job prospects, and senior scientists without the possibility of support for their research. These people, most of whom have little understanding of politics but who have had a basic trust that good science will be supported by our government, you have betrayed.”

“I’ve betrayed?” Matthews roared. “You two have been prancing around our chambers ever since I took office, pushing us to kill the SSC. Now suddenly it’s us who have done a terrible thing.”

“It is true that Alice and I have opposed the SSC. We had to, but not because it was a bad project. I can’t explain to you why it was necessary for our group to oppose it. But none of our reasons apply to you. Your opposition was rooted in greed, narrow political interests, and bull-headed refusal to look objectively at the project or to consider the overall long-term good of the nation. You were wrong in your opposition, and I’m ashamed that we had to use your venality for our own purposes.”

There was another roar of outrage from Matthews, but George shouted him down. “Please let me finish, Congressman, so you can get back to your celebration,” he said. “I realize that I’m destroying a carefully cultivated political relationship by telling you this, but it’s necessary that at least one member of your group understands what you’ve done and what the consequences will be.

“You’re a first-term congressman. If I have anything to do with it, you will not be a second-term congressman. Whether you’re aware of it or not, your campaign received very large contributions from several political action committees under my control. Next year during the midterm elections you’ll face stiff competition in the Democratic primary and a new and very capable Republican opponent in the final election. Your opponents’ campaigns will receive very large contributions from my PACs, and you’ll receive none.

“I hope you have nothing to hide, Congressman. Skillful investigators will be going over your records and background in meticulous detail. If nothing else, your opponents will hang your role in killing the SSC around your neck like an albatross.”