The evidence is clear. Vito Lopez engaged in disgusting, destructive and unethical conduct with respect to young women in his office. It's enough to want him out of the public arena, and for the civil and criminal investigations to continue until the full truth is known.
The sorry saga also reveals more than we want to look at about the way power is distributed and exercised in New York, and who's been working in Vito's circles these many years.
While the details of these outrages were not known, most folks in New York's leadership cadre had a sense that not all was well in Lopez circles. Yet everyone, including some of his most outspoken critics, moral and civic leaders, and elected officials did business with him, sought his favor and support, and protected him.
The list is easy to compile. Office holders in Brooklyn, statewide aspirants (including me), lobbyists, Mayor Michael Bloomberg, governors, senators and members of Congress, Brooklyn's church, synagogue and pastoral leadership, community leaders and just plain folks sought him out, attended his events, spoke out for him, contributed to his campaigns.
Today's moral outrage, as well founded as it is, needs to be measured up against the massive numbers of folks who enabled him to wield and exercise power.
The reason that Vito survived and prospered for so long as an assemblyman and Brooklyn Democratic leader is simple: He had the firm support of the people in his district.
In a democracy, we deal with elected leaders, no matter how distasteful they are or what we suspect they're up to. He chaired the Housing Committee of the Assembly, he created a large and powerful social service infrastructure serving the poor of his community. If you had business to transact in any of those arenas, by gum you dealt with Vito.
Some years ago, I chaired a conference committee trying to settle state budget disputes. It had jurisdiction over the environment, transportation and housing. Vito was a member of that committee. He bullied, threatened, hollered, cursed and then bullied and threatened again and again.
Not his enemies, but his friends and colleagues, especially me, who he accused of stealing money from housing to give to the rich environmentalists. It was no fun and it worked.
Vito got a larger share of scarce dollars for low-income housing and transportation. The environment got less than otherwise would have been the case.
In 2009, a Roman Catholic bishop made robocalls for Vito, as part of a relationship around his opposition to legislation changing the statute of limitations in sexual abuse cases.
New York City has repeatedly directed funding to Vito's social service system. All our statewide officials have supported him, and he's supported them.
And there's a good chance he will not disappear. He says he's going to run for City Council. What should the next mayor of New York City or Assembly speaker do is the voters return him to power?
The outrage about his conduct is well and truly justified. But it's a little memory-challenged as well. Life, and politics, are complicated endeavors, and you don't always get to choose who you do business with.
Putting an end to Vito won't put an end to Vito-ism, as long as power and ambition are reasons to turn one's head, a little, from the ugliness we know is there, but won't acknowledge.
We all created this mess, didn't we?
Richard Brodsky, formerly a state assemblyman, is a fellow at the Demos think tank in New York City and at the Wagner School at New York University.