IT DIDN'T GET the attention it should have, because it happened when the Legislature was out of session. But in recent days, an extraordinarily positive thing happened: The shoo-in spouse of a legislator dropped out of the race for a vitally important state job for which he was breathtakingly unqualified.

That's wonderful news because, despite Dick Richardson's lack of even a high school diploma, practically everybody at the State House was certain that he would be elected to the Public Service Commission -- the body of quasi-judges who must digest complex legal, economic and scientific data and make multi-million-dollar decisions that affect both how much South Carolinians pay for utilities and whether we endure a New York-style blackout in the future.

Unfortunately, there was nothing honorable about Mr. Richardson's decision to abandon the race and give up all those votes of House members who were terrified that if they voted against them, his wife would use her position as chairwoman of the House Ethics Committee to exact revenge. No, Mr. Richardson said he wanted to get out in order to help his wife, Rep. Becky Richardson, in her own quest for a cushy state job elected by her colleagues in the Legislature -- a spot on the Employment Security Commission.

It's tempting to write an entire column about the ka-ching determination of the House's Ethics chairwoman to have her family feed at the public trough. This is, after all, the kind of logrolling that gives politicians a bad name -- and the cash-in mentality that led to our state's largest political scandal of the 20th century.

But there's more at stake here than the pettiness of the Richardson family. And however base Mr. Richardson's motives might have been for dropping out of the PSC race, the fact is that Mrs. Richardson is far more qualified to serve on the much-less-important Employment Security Commission than Mr. Richardson is to serve on the PSC. And if handing her a relatively unimportant job is the cost of keeping the PSC free of her husband, then it's a price worth paying. (Although the better scenario would be for the Legislature to refuse to elect Mrs. Richardson -- or any other sitting legislator -- to such posts.)

Unfortunately, Mr. Richardson's decision could play out in either a positive or a negative way. It could prompt the House to finally relent from its foolishness and go along with Senate proposals to reform the selection system as well as the PSC itself. That is what we all must hope.

On the other hand, it could cause representatives to dig in even deeper, in some futile attempt to prove that they were clinging to the status quo out of some really twisted principle, and not simply in order to enrich the Richardson family bank account.

Likewise, there's always the chance that Mr. Richardson's departure from the race could cause senators to lose interest in reform. I feel somewhat confident believing this won't happen because it would mean that senators never were sincere about reform, and while some might not be, few would want to admit that.

In either case, we simply must not allow this opportunity to pass us by. Our utility regulatory system is badly in need of reform. With the federal government taking such a hands-off role, these state bodies are the only thing keeping our power grid intact.

Mr. Richardson's candidacy was extreme, but it highlighted the major problem with the selection system: Despite attempts at reform over the years, the Legislature continues to look at the seven $80,000-a-year positions not as serious jobs demanding serious qualifications, but rather as a way of rewarding political cronies or currying favor with the deep-pocketed utility companies that line up behind their favored "regulators." In so doing, legislators thumb their noses at the public, whose interests the PSC is supposed to be protecting.

The Senate's simple solution to that part of the problem is to prohibit legislators' relatives from running. And that would eliminate part of the problem, although it won't stop the utilities from picking unqualified toadies to regulate them. A better solution is to set some real qualifications, as we do for most government jobs. The House balks at the idea of even requiring a PSC commissioner to graduate from high school. But all the Senate wants is a college degree. I'd prefer an advanced degree in a relevant field; if not that, then candidates should at least be required to pass a serious test of relevant knowledge.

The House and Senate are closer to agreeing to reforms of the way the commission operates once the commissioners are selected. But the impasse over candidate selection has blocked those reforms, despite clear evidence that the commission staff and even commissioners themselves have routinely met privately with utility representatives to work out deals that affect how much the rest of us pay for utility service.

For more than two years now, this scandal of public trust has been overshadowed by the petty power plays surrounding Mr. Richardson. Now that he is out of the way, it's time for the General Assembly to move on.