Opinion // Editorials

So long, Steve Stockman [Editorial]

With his conviction on 23 felony counts related to the misuse of campaign donations, former Rep. Steve Stockman on Thursday completed his transition from Congressman to convict.

We wish this second paragraph could balance his misdeeds with the noble work he did on behalf of the Texans he served, but his solitary legacy consists of two non-consecutive terms in the House of Representatives marked by eccentric behavior, an embrace of conspiracy theories and, we now know, fraud.

While Stockman's antics might have pleased his most fervent supporters, East Texas was effectively denied a representative for four years. Consider this long, disgraced political arc as another piece of evidence as to why voters should always choose politicians who put the needs of constituents first.

Stockman rode the Gingrich wave to Congress in 1994 when he unseated 21-term Democrat Jack Brooks, and seemed determined to cement his reputation as a fringe politician. Stockman alleged that the 1995 Waco siege was a ploy by the Clinton administration to galvanize support for an assault weapons ban. He suggested the federal government was secretly spying on militia groups, to which he had an affinity. Texas Monthly dubbed him Congressman Clueless.

EDITORIAL: Steve Stockman's antics

As the Editorial Board wrote in 2013, "voters quickly tired of Stockman's penchant for outrageous remarks, his flirtation with militia types and his shadowy business dealings," and declined to re-elect him.

But a rebuke from voters would not keep Ol' Steve Stockman down. In 2012, he won the newly created and Republican-dense 36th Congressional District — and soon resumed his old antics. During his interregnum, Twitter was invented, allowing him to gain a following with declarations like "Obamacare is less popular than Chlamydia" and "Obama has no sympathy for unarmed women raped by criminals." He also called for President Obama to be impeached, and circulated a pamphlet to each of his colleagues making his case.

To call Stockman an empty shirt would be affront to the dozens of Congressmen and women who make careers avoiding tough decisions in Washington. For a national audience, he voluntarily played the role of the Looney Texas Politician and embarrassed his constituents.

Oh, and when a 2013 Chronicle investigation found that Stockman filed bare-bones campaign finance reports and set up a web of 17 businesses in four states and the Virgin Islands, for unknown reasons, Stockman declared that reporters were simply out to get him.

We naively hoped we'd heard the last of Stockman after he unsuccessfully challenged U.S. Sen. John Cornyn in the 2014 Republican primary. But this past March, Stockman was accused of using campaign donations for personal expenses, and it soon became clear that the finance questions that dogged his Congressional career were far more nefarious than the clerical errors he said were to blame.

As the Chronicle's Gabrielle Banks reported, federal prosecutors at the trial presented a parade of 39 witnesses who dished on Stockman's misdeeds. Two were former aides who already pleaded guilty to participating in the scheme.

EDITORIAL: Stockman knows how to draw attention to himself

Prosecutors detailed how Stockman misused $1.25 million in donations to pay for dry cleaning, a hot air balloon ride, amusement park tickets, hotel bills, a trip to a California day spa and a dolphin tour boat ride in New Orleans. He bought plane tickets to South Sudan, donated to an underground Norwegian radio station and gave his relatives $24,000 for "heirloom quality advent books."

And it only got more absurd from there. Then there was $32,000 Stockman used to pay for surveillance of three state legislators, including James White, whom Stockman feared would challenge him in a primary. Stockman worried White would win because "Republicans love black conservatives," according to a Stockman text message shared at his trial.

So yes, among the services Stockman provided to his constituents was managing a group of amateur spooks who bumbled around Austin with video cameras, recorder pens and microphone watches, recording hundreds of hours of footage which ultimately proved useless. (Maxwell Smart's retainer, apparently, was too high.)

We long knew that Stockman was a kook. Now we know he's also a crook.

His schemes may have been comically brazen, his goons b-movie inept, but we nonetheless hope Stockman's prosecution serves as a warning to public officials who would seek to scam their donors. As for Congressman Clueless himself, who is scheduled to be sentenced in August, we owe him congratulations on finally getting the popular support he sought.

The jury that convicted him was unanimous.