Appearances really matter, Governor, and we are watching
Gov. Ron DeSantis, who spent $3 million in the past year zipping around the state in a $15.5 million plane that’s supposed to be used only for public business, must think Floridians don’t know what campaigning looks like.
If he’s confused, here’s a tip: If there are snappy slogans on the podium instead of a simple, dignified state seal, that looks like campaigning.
If an audience of fans is yelling, cheering and waving signs with veiled references to profane catchphrases instead of concerned experts and charts with critical public information, that also looks a lot like campaigning.
If DeSantis is spitting out slogans instead of addressing his duties as this state’s elected leader, it looks like campaigning. Sending out fundraising information closely keyed to the appearance he just made looks like campaigning. Spinning fantasies about stolen elections and conspiracy theories involving respected federal health officials? Well … that sounds like lying. Also, sadly, campaigning.
When the governor is hitting bakeries, barbecue joints and coffee shops across Florida instead of talking about the life-and-death concerns of millions of Floridians who entrusted him with the state’s highest office — maybe that’s not campaigning, but it’s certainly not working. He has plenty to say in his official Twitter feed about all the bagels, sandwiches, coffee and baked goods he’s noshed on. Unemployment, the affordable housing crisis and the ever-present specter of the coronavirus? Not so much. Worst of all, there’s been barely a flicker of concern for Floridians who are dying of COVID — currently at a rate of about 16 people a day, which he seems to regard as barely worth noticing.
Have you contacted any of those families, Governor?
You do realize that when new cases soar, it’s only a matter of time before those invisibly grieving families begin to multiply exponentially?
Leave aside that potential compassion deficit for a minute. Here’s what the law says: Public officials aren’t allowed to campaign on the state’s dime.
They don’t get to use the state’s plane, bought for official duties, as an aeronautical pack mule bearing the burden of their personal ambition. (Why does he need a $15.5 million state plane?) He doesn’t get to co-opt the taxpayer-paid employees of the governor’s office and state agency heads as props and head cheerleaders, no matter how eager they may be to fulfill those roles. We need those people hard at work on serious state business.
Groups like Integrity Florida, which recently spoke to the Orlando Sentinel about DeSantis’ use of the state plane and a potential “blurring of the lines” between public duty and political grandstanding, are right. He doesn’t get to use publicly funded resources for his own benefit.
We understand it’s much more convenient for him. But it’s not one of the perks of the job.
Good Lord, governor. You know this. You went to Harvard Law School. Sir, you also know how many Floridians are mourning today and how many are terrified by the sound of incessant coughing from another room. Maybe not in numbers, but in magnitude: You know it’s a lot.
We don’t expect you to visit them all. We don’t expect you to bring any of them muffins or maybe some orange juice.
Just show a little compassion. A little decorum. A little acknowledgment that Florida is something more than a backdrop for the glory that is you. That Floridians are more than props. That you are putting their needs first, as they deserve.