Capitol punishment: how the Hill's religion of the revolving door cost me my job in a Senate office.

• Author: Stiehm, Jamie

Business As Usual: Bill Clinton says he's going to clean up Washington, but the people with the money clearly don't believe him. Last week the Republican lobbying firm of Black, Manafort, Stone & Kelly hired for an undisclosed six-figure salary Michael Lewan, assistant to Democratic Senator Joseph Liebennan of Connecticut. Lieberman, who is close to Clinton, is often held out as an example of the new idealism. Perhaps on his next television appearance he will explain why his former aide is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, and why Lewan was so quick to take the money and run. --The New Republic, December 14, 1992

Ten days before this appeared on Washington newsstands, Lewan, with tears in his eyes, broke the news to Lieberman's staff, which he had led since 1989. "They don't represent South Africa," Lewan joked of his new firm, trying to lighten the moment, "and that's about where my ethics end." I was new to Capitol Hill, a speechwriter in Lieberman's office, so Lewan's announcement didn't affect me deeply. Others cried as Lewan spoke; he was a popular figure at the center of the senator's staff, a veteran who had kept the operation together. He would be missed. The rest of that day at the office--the Friday before Thanksgiving--was mixed with mourning and congratulations.

That night, I went to dinner with my beau, Michael Lewis, a writer at The New Republic. I told him what Lewan had said and where he was going. It was, after all, the story of my day; I was g about the effect on my co-workers, especially a group of legislative assistants who had befriended me: Barbara, Sarah, Nina, and Joyce. I had walked to the Metro that night with Barbara, and I could see how much Lewan meant to her.

Michael Lewis cared more about the political angles of the story. He said it was outrageous that Lewan was crossing over from public service to private interests--not only to a lobbying firm, but to a mostly Republican one, with a Watergate dirty trickster on its letterhead. Lewis saw this as a textbook case of Washington's revolving door. "This is a news story," he said. "We ought to put it in the magazine."

"You wouldn't do that," I said, not thinking he was serious.

But he was. On Monday afternoon, while I was working in the senator's office, Michael Lewis called. He told me that he had written a short, unsigned editorial note for the magazine, criticizing Lewan's move and challenging Lieberman to say something about it. But he wouldn't run the piece if I objected, knowing it might put me in a bad position with the office since my relationship with Michael was fairly well-known.

I had to decide then and there, and I decided not to ask Michael to drop the story. I didn't feel I had the right to tell him not to write about a piece of public information; Lewan had, after all, said we were free to tell others about his decision. I didn't feel as strongly about Lewan's going over to the private sector, but thought...