"There was a meeting of the Democratic caucus," says Senator King, the Independent from Maine, "and several members were saying, 'Let's just vote. Let's allow the amendments, we'll vote on them, and we'll move on.' And a member who is up for reelection in '14 made a pretty powerful point. He said, 'I don't mind making hard votes, but not if the Republicans are going to turn around and filibuster the bill anyway, so it's all for naught.' And I thought that was a persuasive argument. If you're gonna be forced to vote on one of these crazy gotcha amendments Viagra for sex offenders or whatever then there oughta be some purpose. If no Republicans are gonna vote for cloture and the bill's not gonna pass anyway, then what's the point?" "Part of the reason that certain groups and the cable shows fixate on something like Benghazi is that we aren't offering much else for them to talk about," says Jeff Flake of Arizona. "When you go through regular order, you've got twelve appropriations bills to pass, each of which funds a different agency. There's a lot to talk about. There's a lot to fill the void that currently exists. And so I think if we get back to regular order, allow legislation to be debated on the floor, then we'll fill the void that others will fill if we don't." All these institutional grievances changed rules, broken traditions, oppressive majorities, abused filibusters have their current tap roots in the poisons of outside pressure and empowered extremism. In response to that, you discover, all sorts of formal and informal groups are breaking out, in both houses, to try to make things better, because people are "sick of this shit," as one senator told me. The Problem Solvers, the Future Caucus, the Civility Caucus, the Gang of 14, the Gang of 12, the Gang of 6. The twenty women in the Senate have a bipartisan dinner once a month to talk about what jerks the men are. And the members of the massive freshman class in the House more than seventy first-term members have resolved to maintain bipartisan class cohesion, hold social and policy events, and keep a conversation going, even when Mom and Dad are fighting. In a sign of faith that the dynamics can change, six members of the class, including Luke Messer of Indiana, the Republican class president, have moved their families to Washington. As a group, the freshmen seem very serious about this effort to change things, although a couple of them tell me they are skeptical, indifferent, or consider it to be a waste of time. "Well, you can't just leave me hanging," says Congresswoman Tulsi Gabbard of Hawaii, a Democrat. "You have to tell me who!" And then she guesses. "Tom Cotton." Cotton is running for the Senate in Arkansas and is known for his sharp elbows. "No," I say. "I actually just spoke to one of them, a Democrat." "Alan Grayson!" she says. "How did you know?" "Everybody knows," Gabbard says. "It was either going to be Cotton or Grayson." Others agree. "When a Grayson amendment comes up on the floor," says a Democratic member of the class, "I'll ask colleagues what it's about, and they'll just say, 'It's Grayson. I'm voting against it.' " "They're assholes," says another. "The Asshole Caucus." Grayson, an aggressively partisan Democrat from Florida, dismisses the freshman-class effort at comity as "window dressing. This class has gotten nothing done." By now, the conversations have taken on a therapeutic air. "What's everybody saying?" members will ask. "What's the verdict?"

"Boy, in those days, you'd have never dreamed of giving your word and not keeping it," he says, his voice trailing off. "Never dreamed " Senator Patrick Leahy, D-Vermont And to properly answer that question, you discover that you have learned something about the laws of contradiction. Because with very few exceptions, everything the members of Congress have said complaints, accusations, warnings, and critiques is true. Which is not to say that everybody is equally to blame, because that's an abdication of reasoning and just silly. It is, rather, to say that some truths obtain more than others, and some factors carry more weight. And the recurrent citing by members of those who come not to talk but to silence, not to compromise but to attack whatever insult or injury they may feel is damning. And when you talk to this many members of Congress, you discover from many of them what can only be described as a yearning for humility and civility. "I have two lovely offices in the Capitol," says Senator Leahy. "One is very ornate, and huge, with a large conference table, and I can bring senators there, with no staff, and we sit and talk. That's where the immigration bill happened. My other office has a balcony overlooking the Mall. And there I'll have Prayer Hour and Holy Water, as we call it. One senator was invited for Prayer Hour, and he said, 'You know, I'm Jewish.' And I said, 'We've got twelve-year-old and single-malt holy water.' And he said, 'Oh! Well, that's kosher. I can come.' " Leahy has been in the U. S. Senate for forty years and is known by all to be an expert legislator and reliable negotiating partner. He names some of the giants Democrats, Republicans with whom he has served. Everett Dirksen. Mike Mansfield. Howard Baker. George Mitchell. Bob Dole. "Boy, in those days, you'd have never dreamed of giving your word and not keeping it," he says, his voice trailing off. "Never dreamed " And with that, a final discovery: When you talk to so many members of Congress, you realize that those who are widely reviled can do much more damage than those who are widely respected can do good, and with half the effort. Published in the November 2014 issue

leaders," says Lott. "When I got my ox in the ditch, it wasn't the Democrats [who did it], it was Republicans. So if you get out too far ahead of your team, they'll cut your throat. So that's what is going on in the House and the Senate right now. Leadership's afraid." (This in particular is the issue in the House, where Boehner has had to deal with the thirty to forty members of the unofficial Tea Party caucus who wake up every morning brighteyed and ready to make his life hell.) They've reached their final consensus: It's time to pack up and head on their way, with twenty-two tips for their successors in congressional leadership, and the American voters, to consider. "I was struck by a poll I read a couple weeks ago," says Frank. The poll was about the degree of trust that Americans put in their national institutions, and "the institution that got the lowest rating from the people was the one that people have the most influence in shaping. So maybe the American people ought to do a little looking in the mirror." It's a simple truism that people get the government they choose. And if Americans think they can do better and if they think the challenges of these trying times require a better Congress, a more capable Congress, or at the very least a Congress that isn't universally loathed there's only one thing to do about it. Published in the November 2014 issue