OUR GOVERNMENT in South Carolina has evolved a great deal from
the days when its only priority was the protection of the landed
gentry. For all its shortcomings, there’s no better example of this
than its fitful, but growing, commitment to public education.
But some habits are hard to break, and a major bad habit that
permeates the way we do business in South Carolina is the penchant
to protect those of status, sometimes at the expense of ordinary
citizens who have been harmed by their actions. File a complaint
alleging that an elected official has abused his office, and you can
be put in jail if you tell anyone about it. The same is true for
complaints about judges who might be unfair or lawyers who might
have cheated someone or doctors or veterinarians or a host of other
professionals.
The idea behind these gag rules in state law is to protect people
from unfounded accusations that could do permanent damage to their
reputations, and thus to their livelihoods. But the downside is that
when the accusations are justified, the gag rules allow the public
officials and professionals to continue to harm other individuals
while a secret panel — usually of their professional peers — drags
out its review for months or years, often ending in private
reprimands that do nothing to protect or even warn the public in
whose interest the panels are supposed to be operating.
And now we learn that this penchant for secrecy isn’t limited to
professional disciplinary procedures. Our state law also prevents
regulators from warning the public when they’re about to lose their
shirts. As explained in The State recently, officials in the state
attorney general’s office knew in 1999 that Carolina Investors and
its parent company were in precarious financial condition, and wrote
the company asking what it planned to do “to ensure Carolina
Investors’ continued existence should HomeGold default.” As the
correspondence between the state and the company continued, South
Carolinians, oblivious to their government’s concerns, kept pouring
hundreds of millions of dollars into the company until last year,
when it collapsed; if they’re lucky, these people will be able to
recoup a few pennies on the dollar of their life savings.
Clearly, it is not — nor should it be — the job of government to
act as a financial adviser. That’s a private-sector responsibility,
and people who put their money in high-yield investments must take
responsibility for the fact that high-yield means high-risk.
But there’s a difference between warning people away from certain
investments because they’re risky and allowing the public to have
access to the concerns their government communicates with investment
companies. Such information would surely be met with the same
assurances to the public that investment companies give to the
state, and it’s quite possible that people would still keep
investing. But at least they’d have access to the knowledge gained
by the securities officials who study the situation and raise
questions on our behalf, and at our expense.
In a government that operates on behalf of the entire public —
and not just the landed gentry — it seems that we should all be
privy to their
conclusions.