But during his nascent campaign to regain the seat he once held, Feingold has made it a mission to challenge every type of actual wisdom.
After a catastrophic start that exposed his years of campaign finance hypocrisy, Feingold has tried to bolster his "good government" credibility by offering a preposterous plan to hold down "massive spending" from third-party special interests.
Under Feingold’s "Badger Pledge" (ironically named, as he stole the idea from a similar plan offered in a Massachusetts senate race), for every dollar a third-party spends in political advertising, the beneficiary of that spending must donate 50 cents to a charity of the other candidate’s choice.
Charity is wonderful, but this is, of course, blatant, ham-handed gimmickry. For one, candidates have no control over what third-party groups are spending. If Feingold is worried that independent groups have too much influence, this ridiculous plan gives them even more influence, as they now have more control over the actual candidates’ bank accounts.
And while charity is an allowable campaign expense, is it really appropriate? Suppose an outside group spends a million dollars to support Feingold, forcing him to donate $500,000 to a conservative charity. Did Feingold’s supporters donate money to help him get to the Senate, or to fund, say, the National Right to Life committee? (Perhaps if Sen. Ron Johnson were forced to donate to charity, Feingold would direct the funds to one of the groups that pay his exorbitant speaking fees.)
Of course, Feingold’s plan isn’t meant to be taken seriously. Typically, all of a campaign’s money is spent a month before election day — all of a candidate’s ad buys are complete and campaign literature has been printed. (Further, with YouTube and social media, traditional television ad buys are becoming less and less relevant.) What if a third-party group runs an ad with two weeks to go, while the actual campaigns are broke? Who is coming after them — the Russ Feingold Collection Agency?