On a more general level, deButts thinks CEOs are useful because of their moderation. "We don't just oppose everything," he says. "We attempt to find ways to negotiate a position both sides can live with." Through the Business Roundtable, the CEOs worked out the administration's current national health plan which makes the plan's implementation dependent on the progress of the economy. DeButts also mentions the consumer protection bill, and the labor law reform act as areas that the CEOs tried to modify. In both of the latter, however, their efforts at moderation failed, and the business community at large opposed the compromise legislation.

The interview comes to an abrupt end, and I find my way unescorted back through the carpeted corridors and marble halls, out onto the street. I am perplexed. How can deButts believe that his control over a single multibillion dollar corporation justifies his having political power rivaling that of most elected officals in areas in which he has no expertise? After three years at Harvard and a summer in Washington, I had expected the worst from our government, so it was no surprise that corporate dollars buy political power. But I hardly believe the corporate attitude that such practices are natural and right, that the corporate chiefs are acting out of a sense of nobless oblige.

My next stop is a modern skyscraper across from Rockefeller Center. The 15th floor of the building houses the chairman of the Board of NL Industries, Ray Adam. In contrast to the massive security at the AT&T building, a single receptionist guards a wide hallway leading to the plush, carpeted depths of the office. Once I get inside, Adam immediately arrives to greet me, relaxed and smiling. Where deButts lectures, Adam chats; he calls me by my first name repeatedly, and in spite of myself, I am disarmed.

Business is taking a more direct approach in Washington, Adam begins. "I think businessmen have decided they haven't been winning much staying back in their cave," he says. "And they can't send the corporals and the sargents and the captains to the field all the time; the general has to appear as well."

CEOs have always been reluctant to get personally involved in Washington, he continues because they prefer the security of their own fiefdoms in New York, complete with well-established procedures, well-connected friends and absolute control over most people they deal with every day.

The awkwardness of the CEO in the seat of government soon wears off, however. "When you become familiar with the process, you become willing to go down to Washington increasingly more," Adam says. "it's a confidence that's sort of self-feeding...I see a lot more enthusiasm within the organization (the Business Roundtable) in the last two years than I saw previously."

In fact, Adam continues, "the majority leader in the House has organized sessions where the Business Roundtable comes down and sits with the party leadership to discuss legislation, present and upcoming." These meetings have "occurred under Tip O'Neill's urgings," he adds.

Adam began working in Washington as the chairman of the Business Roundtable's energy task force after Carter announced his conservation-oriented energy policy. "I found myself swept into an involvement which was intense and time consuming," he says. That involvement included lobbying Congressmen, negotiating with administration officials, and coordinating the efforts of the business community.

Now, after working for nearly a year with the Roundtable staff and his own corporation's Washington representatives, Adam has once more turned the focus of his efforts to managing his corporation from his office in New York. But his time is tied up more with politics now than before he went to Washington. "I find myself in New York meeting more and more people in government trying to obtain the views of business," he says.

Adam ends the interview warmly, inviting me to call or visit his office again if I can think of any other questions. The receptionist smiles as I leave, and I head across the street for my last interview. The gloom in the air has coalesced into fat, grimy raindrops, which do not help my already-dishelved appearance. Happily, Rockefeller Center is warm and dry, and after only half an hour lost in the tunnels. I manage to find the offices of the president and chairman of the board of Union Carbide, William Sneath.

Actually, while I find his offices with little trouble, it takes a bit more searching to find Sneath. First, I wait while his receptionist contacts one of his staff assistants. Then a vice president receives me in his office, giving me Sneath's background and accomplishments, and generally scrutinizing me to see if I might traumatize his boss with an ill-chosen question. Finally, the vice president accompanies me to Sneath's enormous office--and stays for the interviews, injecting his comments quickly whenever I broach what he thinks is a sensitive issue.

Unfortunately, the interview consists of very little of what I consider sensitive. His prematurely white hair and light blue eyes make him look like the quintessential business executive, but he has very little to say about his involvement in national politics. He plays down his contact with elected officials: "When we (Union Carbide) get involved with issues, they're issues we have to get involved with anyway."

Like deButts and Adam, Sneath emphasizes the growing moderation of the business community. "I'm a Republican. The Democratic Administration has two years to go. There's no basis in my mind, either personally or as the corporation, to fight the President, "he says." We want to help him. We want him to succeed." Sneath disapproves of the "strictly political kneejerk reaction (which) is to take potshots at whoever is in office if he's with the opposition."

In general, Sneath avoids the kind of political involvement that deButts welcomes and that Adam endured for a year before returning to his role as corporate chief. He focuses mostly on concerns that affect Union Carbide directly. He leaves lobbying to his legislative vice presidents.

Sneath is bucking the current trend of the CEO's increasing political involvement. The large corporation is no longer content to merely send contributions to members of Congress in the hope that they will remember the generosity of corporate America when antitrust legislation and the like comes up for consideration. Big business now sends its titular heads as emmisaries to Washington. Like the ruler of a foreign nation, the CEO's charisma--derived from his control of billions and billions of dollars--gives him access to the powers-that-be in Washington. In principle, every citizen has equal political right. In practice, some are more equal than others.