Expensive lesson

By Abigail Goldman

Sunday, Nov. 12, 2006 | 1:22 a.m.

In the end, all the political consultants and all the ad men couldn't put Clark County sheriff candidate Jerry Airola back together again.

They could, however, do quite nicely for themselves trying.

The millionaire businessman spent more than $3.5 million to finish second in both the primary and general elections, the latter a lopsided 26 percentage point loss last week to Metro Undersheriff Doug Gillespie.

Airola's campaign money was largely his own, funds he hemorrhaged at a furious clip even though it was clear months ago - when polls showed him more than 30 percentage points behind - that he couldn't win.

Now all that remains at the bottom of Airola's downward spiral is a question for his political consultants: When is it time to tell a candidate to put down the checkbook and throw in the towel?

It's a tricky question, particularly considering that political consultants stand to make money even if the candidate loses. The more the candidate spends, the more the consultants make, regardless of the voters' decision.

In Airola's case, his consultants earned hundreds of thousands of dollars - for a race in which he limped across the finish line with only 37 percent of the vote. Moreover, even though they continued to spend his money, thereby driving up their own fees, some of Airola's consultants kept their identities secret.

Gary Gray, a local political consultant who did not work on Airola's campaign, says the consultants should have spoken up, even if it meant sacrificing a paycheck.

"Somebody should have said, 'You know, you have made your point, people understand your platform, let's just ride it out,' " Gray said.

Instead, Gray said, "Somebody was going, 'Ka-ching!' " - underlining his point by making the sound of a cash register.

Political consultants typically collect 15 percent of the cost of every media buy. Airola says he was spending more than $100,000 every two weeks on TV ads, so based on the industry standard, the consultants' fee would work out to a tidy $7,500-plus per week.

Consultants also often collect percentages of TV commercial production costs - another lucrative area in a campaign such as Airola's, where the candidate spent almost $1.3 million making commercials.

In addition, consultants usually collect base pay, often in the form of monthly retainers. Airola's campaign finance reports show he spent about $309,000 on consultants, on top of the fees they collected from producing commercials and placing media buys.

Usually, candidates have to shake hundreds of hands to generate that kind of campaign money.

Airola said his money meant he wasn't bound by special-interest groups. It also meant, however, that he was an easy mark.

"This is a business where bottom feeders can survive," said Ryan Erwin, a local consultant who did not work for Airola. "They survive because there are so many people who want to be somebody, and they are willing to write checks to do it."

Even when his campaign was flagging, Airola's advertising was aggressive, UNLV political science professor David Damore said. When a long, long shot candidate has a glut of media, Damore says, it sometimes is an indication that fee-hungry consultants are pushing clients into senseless advertising for the profit.

"I think that's one of the reasons there's an inordinate amount of television ads," Damore said.

In the past 15 years, as Nevada's political playing field has opened up to more outsiders, there has been a greater need for professional political consultants, Damore said. In other words, to win without the "good old boys," candidates have to buy the help, Damore said.

"If you don't have that kind of support, you have to go buy it," Damore said. "This is just the professionalization of politics. Now you're seeing these (consultants) pretty much making a living off of it."

Airola's first consultant, George Gorton, a Californian who worked on the winning campaigns of both Arnold Schwarzenegger and Boris Yeltsin, flew to Nevada to get Airola through the primary - although hardly impressively, given his distant second-place finish.

Shortly thereafter, Gorton left to run a different campaign - in Turkey. Even though his consultant was, for at least part of the time, half a world away, Airola wrote more than $150,000 in checks to Gorton's agency - payments that do not include the percentages that Gorton charged for commercials and other advertising, Airola's campaign finance reports show.

Gorton could not be reached for comment.

Airola, who in the days since his loss has announced plans to run again for sheriff, says next time, he'll hire a local adviser.

Still, beyond giving fair warning, there's little a consultant can do to dissuade a client who's dead set on spending, said Dan Hart, a local consultant who coordinated anti-Airola ads for a group called Citizens for Honesty in Law Enforcement.

"You can say, 'You know, this is a very long shot,' " Hart said. "If the candidate still chooses to put money in the race, that's the candidate's decision, and all kinds of things can happen in politics."

To replace Gorton, Airola hired new consultants - advisers who, he said, did not want their names known. Local consultants have since suggested that this highly unusual need for anonymity is an indication Airola was getting fleeced.

Put more politely, Erwin said, there are some consultants who seem to work only for hopeless underdogs with money.

"Losing candidates have to have consultants, too," he said. "If you are in a losing race and you are committed to it, somebody will take you on."

According to Joseph Napolitan, founder of the American Association of Political Consultants, a candidate's chances should be obvious even before the race starts.

A consultant, Napolitan said, should know within weeks whether a campaign is hopeless - and warn the candidate. If the warning falls on deaf ears, it's probably a good idea to quit, because a consultant's reputation can be tainted by a losing campaign.

"You can spend all the money you want and you are not going to win," Napolitan said. "I've told candidates that."

Airola said he was warned after the primary that beating Gillespie would be an uphill battle costing $3 million to $4 million with no guarantee.

The lingering "what if" factor, however, was hypnotic enough to keep Airola in the race . Even when polls showed Airola down by more than 30 points, he believed that he could win. And so he spent more money.

And if a candidate is bent on spending money, Napolitan said, there's always someone willing to help.

"The client, the candidate, is going to find somebody who will take his money, and if he's that dumb, it's his own fault," said Napolitan, whose book, "100 Things I Have Learned in 30 Years as a Political Consultant," has been translated into Spanish, Italian and Russian.

"I have seen a lot of consultants take on campaigns that the candidate had very little chance of winning, but the candidate was insistent. He was going to run and he was going to spend the money."

Speaking on Thursday, Airola acknowledged that there were instances when he perhaps paid too much money for too little good advice.

"They were getting retainers and they were getting fees and bonuses, as long as they made it through the primary," he said.