AT&T lobbying starts with cupcakes – and includes a lot more
Does it matter who’s in the White House?

WASHINGTON — in this covetous town, the delicacies of the Georgetown Cupcake shop stand alone as symbols of wish fulfillment — heaping swirls of luscious confection atop rich, creamy pastry.
Therefore: Operation Cupcake. As the Federal Communications Commission debated final rules last December on how Internet service providers should manage their traffic, AT&T delivered 1,500 of these opulent desserts to the F.C.C.’s headquarters here.
Like many other big corporations, AT&T annually blankets power brokers with token holiday gifts, but the cupcake campaign was notable for its military precision. A three-page spreadsheet, stamped “AT&T Proprietary (Internal Use Only),” detailed how the desserts were to be deployed to each of the 63 commission offices: four dozen were assigned to the enforcement bureau, 10 dozen to the wireless divisions, 12 cupcakes to each of four commissioners, and 18 to the chairman, and so on.
As it turns out, AT&T had begun its $39 billion courting of T-Mobile about the same time. The resulting deal, announced a week ago, would transform the industry if approved. It would narrow the field of major wireless providers to three and vault AT&T into the No. 1 spot, ahead of Verizon; consumer advocates say the combination will lead to higher prices.
As interested parties lobby for and against the merger, one person will be pulling at the levers of power more often and with more influence than anyone else, according to both friends and foes: AT&T’s chief lobbyist, James W. Cicconi. A master strategist, Mr. Cicconi internalizes the art of regulatory and legislative war — and Operation Cupcake is but one of the efforts to come out of his shop…
In 13 years at AT&T, Mr. Cicconi has helped guide the company through roughly a dozen mergers, large and small, and he has made his share of enemies in Washington. As a testament to his power, however, few of them will criticize him on the record…
Nor is Mr. Cicconi’s lobbying effort a one-man show. He oversees a division that spent $115 million on lobbying over the last six years, putting it among the top five corporate spenders in the country, according to the Center for Responsive Politics, which tracks lobbying and campaign spending.
AT&T employs an army of outside lobbyists, including at least six prominent former members of Congress, including the former Senate majority leader Trent Lott, a Mississippi Republican, and former Senator John Breaux, a Louisiana Democrat.
Two of the sleaziest politicians who ever lived.

James Cicconi [L] with Randall Stephenson, CEO, and Wayne Watts, general counsel
Over the last two decades, AT&T employees and its political action committees have pumped more campaign contributions into federal politics than any other American corporation, the Center for Responsive Politics reports. In the last election cycle, AT&T contributions found their way to 390 representatives and 70 senators.
“They are a behemoth,” says Dave Levinthal, editor of Opensecrets.org, the center’s online lobbying database. “When you have dozens of former federal officials doing your bidding in Washington with a detailed knowledge of how Washington works, it is exponentially easier to grease the skids of government.”
As Congress discusses the merger, Republicans and Democrats will duel over the balance of market forces and regulatory intervention. The White House will strive to balance the president’s campaign promises to get tough on antitrust issues while trying to prove he is not anti-business…
Delicious cupcakes create good will, of course, something that Mr. Cicconi recognizes.
After Public Knowledge posted the company’s cupcake battle plans online, AT&T sent the organization its own box of goodies.
When you consider the number of former bureaucrats and elected officials who end up as lobbyists for the corporations they were supposed to confront on behalf of the citizens of the United States, surely you can recognize how often legislation was deliberately moderated so that a future piece of the pie saved for cooperative politicians wasn’t pulled back.
It’s part of daily life in Congress, in the corridors of official Washington.




