Theodore Roosevelt, more than any other president, recognized the dangers to democracy inherent in allowing major corporations to amass unbridled economic and political power. From his bully pulpit in the White House, Roosevelt railed against the “robber barons” of the day and, in relying on his Justice Department to break mammoth and seemingly all-powerful companies into smaller pieces, achieved fame as a “trustbuster.” The titans of American industry were not pleased. “We bought the son of a bitch,” steel magnate Henry Frick once complained, “and then he did not stay bought.”

In 1910, after his second term in the White House, Teddy Roosevelt picked up where his trust-busting crusade had stopped. “We must drive the special interests out of politics,” he declared. “The citizens of the United States must effectively control the mighty commercial forces which they have themselves called into being. There can be no effective control of corporations while their political activity remains. To put an end to it will neither be a short not an easy task, but it can be done. . . .”

Nearly a century later, however, Roosevelt’s warning still has an eerie ring of urgency. Even today, the American political system is awash in a tidal wave of corporate money, special interests manipulate the machinery of government to their own ends, and some who call themselves public servants eagerly do the bidding of those who do not have the best interests of their constituents in mind. The tobacco industry — whose power was finally constrained by the legal system, not the political system — provides the starkest and sorriest example of what’s wrong. Even after the industry had lost virtually all its public credibility, its legions of lawyers and lobbyists could still find plenty of compliant collaborators in Congress as well as in statehouses from coast to coast. Why? Over the years, Big Tobacco spent big — untold millions of dollars in political contributions, gifts, and other forms of largesse — to keep lawmakers in Washington and in state legislatures right where it wanted them: in its pocket.

Nonetheless, most Americans undoubtedly would be shocked to learn that many of the state laws under which they live and work have actually been written by major U.S. corporations – not by the state legislators they have elected to represent them. As this report documents, this approach to lawmaking at the state level has been championed and carried out over the years by the American Legislative Exchange Council. Through ALEC, corporations pay to have their special-interest legislation promoted to state legislators across the country. 

It is perfectly clear that ALEC’s “member legislators” do not set the agenda for the organization. Corporate representatives are also considered members and are welcomed to the table as “equals.” But that is just the beginning. Based on their financial contributions, corporate members can take the lead in proposing legislation to be considered by the various industry committees and can then sit on those committees and have the power to veto any proposed “model” bill that does not meet their specifications.

ALEC’s approach, carefully constructed to assure corporate control, is “pay to play.” Corporations have of course proven only too willing to “pay” in order to “play” in the crafting of state laws.

It is time to shine the spotlight on ALEC, its sponsors, and its members, and on ALEC’s use of corporate money to buy access to America’s state legislatures.