Did you see the news about Los Angeles City Councilman Curren Price, who now faces charges of conflict of interest, perjury and embezzlement while serving the citizens of his city? It’s a story that, quite unintentionally, sheds a lot of light on how our approach to public corruption in Philly differs markedly when compared to elsewhere in the nation.

Here, we not only shrug at charges of public officeholders’ theft of services from citizens — the old Lincoln Steffens indictment of “corrupt and contented” — but the very nature of our corruption tends to be more advanced, more innovative. (Hey, at least we’re number one in something!)

“This alleged conduct undermines the integrity of our government and trust in our elected officials,” George Gascón, the Los Angeles County district attorney, said in a statement. “We will continue to work tirelessly to root out corruption at all levels.”

Here’s the background: It is alleged that Price, who has represented South Los Angeles for a decade, voted on projects that benefited developers who paid his wife’s consulting business a total of more than $150,000. The five embezzlement charges? Dude is said to have improperly gotten $34,000 in medical coverage for his current wife — while still married to someone else.

“This alleged conduct undermines the integrity of our government and trust in our elected officials,” George Gascón, the Los Angeles County district attorney, said in a statement. “We will continue to work tirelessly to root out corruption at all levels.”

Okay, let’s do a little comparing and contrasting, shall we?

You mean DAs can charge corrupt pols?

In Los Angeles, the charges were brought by George Gascon, the city’s progressive district attorney. When’s the last time a D.A. has done the same in Philly? It’s hard to remember.

As you may recall, it was then-Attorney General Josh Shapiro who convicted former state representative Movita Johnson-Harrell of public corruption. Yes, she tragically has lost two sons to gun violence, but she also funneled something like half a million dollars through an anti-gun violence charity to pay off a Porsche, fur coats and a Mexico vacation. She pled guilty and was sentenced to 11 1/2 to 23 months in jail back in January of 2020, before an early Covid-related release.

I was at a press conference in 2021 in which District Attorney Larry Krasner — for whom she had once worked — praised Johnson-Harrell for her “courage.” My heart goes out to her for the tragic losses she’s had to endure, but if you’re an elected official in Philadelphia — even the chief law enforcement officer — how do you share a stage with someone who committed fraud under the guise of combating gun violence? (“Philadelphia,” our promotional bumper sticker ought to read, “where nothing is disqualifying.”)

Why is holding political bad actors legally accountable not the norm here?

Actually, the last time a Philly D.A. brought corruption charges against an elected leader was eight years ago when Seth Williams — who would ironically soon go on to don an orange jumpsuit himself — filed bribery charges against five state house Democrats.

Why is holding political bad actors legally accountable not the norm here? Let’s keep it real. What are most banana republics? Corrupt, one-party towns. A Democratic D.A. — even one, like Krasner, with the guts to break from tradition and prosecute lawbreaking cops — is flirting with political suicide by taking on the insider political class in Moscow on the Delaware.

A charged pol can react without electorate-defying defiance? Who knew?

Within two hours of being charged in L.A., Price resigned his position as president pro tempore of City Council and gave up his committee assignments. He didn’t resign from Council, noting that he’s innocent until proven guilty. But, in a statement, he struck at what ought to be the baseline for responsible conduct in such circumstances: “While I navigate through the judicial system to defend my name against unwarranted charges filed against me, the last thing I want to do is be a distraction to the people’s business,” he said.

“In a society where corruption is common, few dare to speak out against it on their own.” — Ray Firman and Miriam A. Golden, in Corruption: What Everyone Needs to Know.

How do we do on that score? Well, not so good. Even when then-Councilman Bobby Henon was convicted of federal bribery charges, he refused to resign for two full months — a slap in the face to every citizen of Philadelphia. Talk about chutzpah. Worse, serving alongside a convicted felon was just fine with Henon’s colleagues on Council, save Maria Quiñones Sánchez, and just about every area Democrat, save state rep. Jared Solomon.

You ever wonder why we have this seemingly endless parade of perp walks, not to mention all the headlines that point to shady but legal dealings, like those that fall under the curse of councilmanic prerogative? “In a society where corruption is common, few dare to speak out against it on their own,” wrote Ray Firman and Miriam A. Golden, in Corruption: What Everyone Needs to Know. “Not only would denunciations lead to social disapproval and perhaps even physical danger, they don’t do much good unless others join in. That is, you need a critical mass of disapproval to be effective.”

Which gets us to:

A Council President really can make a moral stand?

Though the Los Angeles City Charter provides no mechanism for removing a member prior to conviction, Council President Paul Krekorian initially pledged to introduce a motion to impeach his colleague. He has since backed off: Last week, the Council’s Rules, Elections, and Intergovernmental Relations Committee, chaired by Krekorian, put off voting on whether to suspend Curren or not till August.

But look at what Krekorian did here: He reacted with a moral statement — like leaders do — and then transparently explained his position, and Council’s, to his constituents as his thinking evolved, informed by prior precedent.

It was a stark contrast to our longtime, transactionalist Council President Darrell Clarke, who, upon the conviction of Henon and labor leader John Dougherty, released a statement calling it “a sad time for Philadelphia City Council.” Mayor Jim Kenney — the main recipient of Dougherty’s political largesse through the years — took Clarke’s mealy-mouthing a step further. After the verdict, he went so far to suggest that he had “an opinion” that differed from the jury’s, essentially flipping the bird to any citizen who has ever done their civic duty by serving on a jury.

What’s legal kinda sucks. And it’s politically permissible because we don’t have leaders willing to stand up and say things that shouldn’t be that hard to say.

Look, none of this is to say we should all pull up roots and move to L.A. (For one, we’d have to root for the Dodgers, and some of us haven’t forgiven them for ripping the guts out of a community in Brooklyn for better parking.) L.A.’s City Council has had its share of scandals lately.

But its type of scandal is the type you generally see across the nation. Bribery. Hot mic bigotry. You know, the type of municipal corruption we here in Philly can get all nostalgic over.

Because other cities have run of the mill misconduct; we have a tragic history of sheer chutzpah (“Other People’s Money!”) and inventive chicanery, as The Citizen’s printable tongue-in-cheek Philly Corruption All-Star cards make clear. (I’ll give you a Fumo for a Seth Williams! Trade ‘em with your friends! ) And so much of the suspect behavior among our elected leaders appears to be legal. I wasn’t surprised when Councilman Kenyatta Johnson and his wife, Dawn Chavous, were acquitted. Unlike in the Dougherty/Henon case, there were no wiretaps, no smoking guns.

But can you really say that the way Johnson uses his councilmanic prerogative power serves the common good? Isn’t it all … just kind of gross? What’s legal kinda sucks. And it’s politically permissible because we don’t have leaders willing to stand up and say things that shouldn’t be that hard to say, as we just witnessed in Los Angeles, where a D.A. and a Council President both unambiguously aligned themselves with clean governance.

Sorry to harken back to that dark night in 1980 when Magic Johnson tragically dismantled our Dr. J-led Sixers, but don’t you hate being beaten by Los Angeles, Philly?

The Fix is made possible through a grant from the Thomas Skelton Harrison Foundation. The Harrison Foundation does not exercise editorial control or approval over the content of any material published by The Philadelphia Citizen.

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