Joe Bruno’s mixed legacy
Many New Yorkers — especially in the Capital Region — will remember Joseph L. Bruno warmly and appreciatively. And others will remember him as a symbol of the corrupting influence of power.
And neither will be entirely right, or entirely wrong, about the man everyone knew as Joe.
There is no question that Mr. Bruno did much for this region, far more than the small accomplishments, favors and help untangling and navigating the bureaucracy of government that’s the stock in trade of any legislator. As majority leader of the Senate for 14 years, one of the “three men in a room” who made all the big decisions in New York state government, he had a hand in bringing not just millions but billions of dollars’ worth of economic development to the Capital Region.
At the top of the list of projects in which he had a role are the revitalization of Albany International Airport, the creation of what is now SUNY Polytechnic Institute, and the location of the Globalfoundries computer chip fabrication plant in Malta. An appreciative region named the minor
league ballpark at Hudson Valley Community College for him, as well as a theater at the Arts Center of the Capital Region, a meeting room at the Saratoga Springs City Center, a studio at WMHT, a park in Hoosick Falls and much more. His bronze bust greets travelers at the airport.
Mr. Bruno had power, and he certainly used it for the public good. He used it for his own good, too, and it got him into trouble. He came under investigation in 2005 for lucrative business relationships that earned him hundreds of thousands of dollars in consulting fees apparently coinciding with grants of public money. In June 2008, he announced he was retiring from the Senate; in early 2009, he was indicted by a federal grand jury. He was convicted of two corruption charges at a jury trial, but a federal appeals court reversed it after a Supreme Court ruling raised the bar for prosecuting public corruption cases under the “theft of honest services” statute. Tried again, he was acquitted by a second jury in 2014.
Yet the taint of self-dealing remained, both on Mr. Bruno and on the Legislature, which saw two more leaders — Mr. Bruno’s longtime counterpart in the Assembly, former Speaker Sheldon Silver, and his successor in the Senate, Dean Skelos — go to prison for their own corrupt behavior. Not guilty hardly meant innocent, and it’s arguably another of Mr. Bruno’s legacies that the state would overhaul its lobbying and ethics rules, regulations and investigative and enforcement bodies — though all that remains, to say the least, a work in progress. And where Mr. Bruno resisted reforms of campaign finance rules — unabashedly saying donors should be able to give politicians like him all the money they want — New York has since overhauled the way elections are funded.
An honest appraisal of Mr. Bruno’s life can ignore neither the good nor the bad. He was the guy who rode a horse in local parades, brought home tons of bacon, and wheeled and dealed. To acknowledge the bad does not diminish the good of the man’s record. Which legacy will endure, we’ll leave to history to decide.