On the House - Book Summary

The unexpected charms of Washington's rule-breaker

Having a space to call his own was a defining moment for John Boehner, not just for the prestige it brought, but for the freedom to savor his Camel cigarettes. When the echoes of Boehner's tenure still lingered in the air, Paul Ryan had to grapple with the remnants of tobacco's telltale scent. But the irony doesn't end with the physical space. In Washington, cigarette vendors receive a warmer reception than the smokers themselves, painting a peculiar picture of the city's stance on smoking.

This level of dissonance extends beyond smoking rituals. During his time in the tobacco industry, Boehner experienced firsthand the paradoxical advice that his company's CEO gave him during a smoke break—urging him to quit for the sake of his health. Though cognizant of his unhealthy habit, Boehner places a higher fault on hypocrisy—a vice far too prevalent in the corridors of power.

Boehner, a figure who naturally stirs controversy, has been known for stirring the pot in Washington since his arrival in the early 1990s. Embarking on a crusade against graft and corruption, he quickly grew accustomed to the glares of disapproval. While his provocative nature may not endear him to everyone, even his fiercest critics must admit — Boehner's consistency and aversion to double standards are noteworthy traits.

In this narrative, you will discover the evolution of a bar owner's son — raised in a family that supported Democrats — into a staunch Reagan Republican. You will learn of the near catastrophic decisions made by Republicans that could have derailed the global economy, and delve into the costly outcomes of John McCain's dramatics during his presidential campaign.

The dawning of a commitment to community

In the chilly embrace of the pre-dawn hours, the Boehners of Cincinnati, Ohio, are roused from their slumber. Amid a bustling household of twelve siblings, the close quarters foster both camaraderie and chaos. While the girls claim one bedroom and the boys huddle in another, the parents convert the sitting room into their nightly refuge.

Earl Boehner, the paternal figurehead, stirs first, gracefully sidestepping the need to awaken his sleeping partner. His ascent is marked by the gentle nudging of his sons, eight-year-old John and the older Bob, from their dreams. The boys grope through the darkness for their clothes, a silence hanging between them as they tiptoe into the cold.

A brief drive transitions the trio from their family hub to the beating heart of the local community—Andy’s Café. At this blue-collar sanctuary, factory workers congregate, drawn by the certainty of comfort food and drinks before the relentless clock nudges them toward the grindstone once more.

Andy’s Café, a legacy since 1947, does not bow to the ticking clock. Promptly open and ever-dependable, Earl dispenses culinary solace while John and Bob assist, filling mugs with pilsner or handing out more potent morning fare to the patrons craving an extra kick.

For the Boehner family, this establishment is much more than an economic endeavor; it is a nod to service, a continuation of the legacy of Andrew and Earl's military past. It asserts its presence in Carthage as the nexus of work and social comradery.

Young John absorbs the bustling energy of the bar; in his formative years between boyhood and young adulthood, Andy’s becomes both workplace and classroom. As he swaps out plates and pours drinks, earning a modest wage, he grasps something invaluable—an ethos rooted in respect and community engagement, which transcends all superficial divides.

What John Boehner gleans from this earnest establishment sets a course for his future. In the easy welcome and the community fabric of Andy’s, he finds the principles of democracy and partnership mirrored. These early life lessons ground him, carving the path for his political philosophy long before he takes his inauguration steps in Washington.

A weighty transformation and the pursuit of purpose

The vision that greeted John Boehner in the mirror back in 1968 was the catalyst for change. Nineteen years old and weighing in at a heavy 273 pounds, the reflection prompted a decision that would slim his frame but also set the stage for a lifelong struggle with nicotine.

Trading snacks for cigarettes, Boehner's successful weight loss was bittersweet, as the unhealthy habit clung to him despite warnings from healthcare professionals and peers. He found himself at a crossroads, both in health and in direction.

With high school behind him and the accessibility of a scholarship out of reach, Boehner knew it was on him to carve out his collegiate path. His search for work to fund his education led him to try his hand at various jobs, dashed with a brief stint in the navy cut short by a spinal issue.

Xavier University became the foundation of his academic pursuit, but it was not just an education he sought — it was clarity. As he juggled studies and night shifts, Boehner grappled with the nagging questions about his future ambitions and purpose.

Then, opportunity presented itself through an invitation to join a softball team — an offer that came with a job at Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals as a nightly custodian. Unbeknownst to Boehner, this twist of fate was about to sharply bring life into sharper perspective.

One particular morning, Deb, a clerical worker at the firm, clocked in fifteen minutes earlier than usual. This simple shift in routine sparked a romance that swiftly blossomed into marriage. Their humble beginnings — a mere four hundred dollars, three rocking chairs, and a television — didn't diminish the clarity Deb brought into Boehner's life.

Armed with his degree from Xavier, Boehner joined Nucite Sales, where his talent for connecting with people and sussing out their needs translated into a remarkable sales career. Over nearly fifteen years, he transitioned from a promising employee to the president and guiding force of the company until 1991 — the year that would mark a new era, both for him and for the trajectory of our tale.

The unexpected victor with an atypical surname

The Boehner name, bearing its German roots, originally pronounced "Böhner," underwent an Americanized transformation that glossed over the complexities in favor of "Bayner." Such a surname might seem inconsequential, except when one is thrust into the political limelight where perceptions hinge on every syllable.

It's 1989, and Ohio's Eighth District finds itself embroiled in controversy, with Representative Donald Lukens ensnared by scandal. Despite this, Lukens clings to his seat, compelling the Republicans to field a new contender. Tom Kindness, bolstered by party patronage, appears to be the flawless fit against the scandal-tinted incumbent. Enter John Boehner, whose phonetically unfortunate 'Boner' stood in stark contrast to the amiable 'Kindness' name. To the Republican leadership, Boehner's defeat seemed a foregone conclusion based on nomenclature alone.

Yet, the scales of Boehner's political prospects weren't tipped by his name but by the merits of his campaign. With scant connections, no donors, and his finances teetering against him, Boehner's bid for office could easily have been dismissed as a gamble driven by folly. However, Boehner's conviction in the winds of change—both within himself and across America—anchored his tenacity.

Growing up in a staunchly Democratic household, Boehner's political allegiance had once been predetermined. But life's journeys and fiscal revelations—such as the government's hefty claim on each dollar earned above a certain threshold—had turned Boehner's gaze elsewhere. Coupled with Ronald Reagan's ascent in 1980, espousing tax cuts and a trimmed federal government, Boehner found himself aligned with a new creed, that of the Reagan Republicans.

With Reagan's vision fueling his parliamentary ambitions, Boehner took to the political battleground of Ohio. His unbridled advocacy for reduced government expenditure and the liberation of entrepreneurs from oppressive taxation resonated with the electorate. Astonishment rippled through the Republican ranks as Boehner usurped Kindness for the nomination and charged onward to eclipse Lukens in the general election.

Assuming his role in Congress in 1991, Boehner represented not merely Ohio's Eighth District but a burgeoning archetype within the Republican constellation.

Shaking the Capitol's foundation

As the decade of the nineties unwound, the corridors of power in Washington D.C. echoed with the footsteps of customary "big-city politicians" — figures molded in the political fires of the 1950s. With their tenure came an ease of life, one epitomized by the operations of the House bank, an institution that merrily blurred the lines between public service and fiscal liberty.

In this era, congressional pay arrived via tangible checks — checks that ironically couldn't navigate the financial streams back to their home banks across the states. For representatives seeking their earnings in liquid assets, the only avenue was the exclusive, congressionally reserved House bank.

This bank, however, danced to a different financial tune. Forget about interest rates or overdraft fees; here, the overdraft was an unspoken perk, a black hole of taxpayer funds with a vault perennially on the edge of insolvency — exactly the antithesis of Reagan Republican ideals.

When Boehner and a cadre of fellow GOP newcomers, christened the "Gang of Seven," set out to expose this conveniently overlooked peculiarity, they were met not with applause but with resistance. Seen as a moral imperative by the Gang, their crusade was interpreted by the seasoned congress members as a direct assault on longstanding entitlements.

Despite pleas and promises, Boehner pressed on, and the inevitable unraveling began. The public's enlightenment on the House bank's questionable practices led to its demise — a victory for financial accountability and a significant feather in Boehner's cap.

But the uncovering of unsavory practices did not end there. Whispers of postal peculiarity followed — tales of congressional members treating stamps as currency in shadowy poker games and alleged narcotics acquisitions straight from the House Post Office. The whispers evolved into conviction, leading to charges and imprisonment for those involved.

Boehner's commitment to rooting out corruption did not go unnoticed. Newt Gingrich, an innovative Republican force, recognized a kindred spirit in Boehner. Gingrich's strategy to propel Republicans to a level of influence unseen since the Eisenhower years aligned seamlessly with Boehner's vision. With Boehner's star in ascendancy, he ascended to the role of conference chairman in 1994, securing his place as a defining figure in a refreshed Republican hierarchy.

The path Boehner had carved — one of transparency and opposition to the practices that long went unchallenged – was setting the stage for a new wave of governance. His stance was clear: Congress's reputation needed a restoration, for it was marred by the very people elected to uphold its integrity.

The resolute journey of a congressional maverick

In the relentless dance of politics, memories can be unforgiving and vendettas long-lasting. By the time 1998 rolled around, John Boehner had established his presence as conference chairman for four years. Yet, as the tides of political fortune would have it, his tenure was about to face turbulent currents.

Unexpectedly, J.C. Watts, an Oklahoma representative with a storied past in college football, enters the fray, challenging Boehner's position. Initially underestimated, Watts's challenge soon gains substantial backing from influential House members still nursing grievances from Boehner's crusade against the House bank.

Boehner finds himself ousted and relegated to the periphery of power — until an unexpected opportunity arises in 2005 with the indictment of the House Majority Leader, Tom DeLay. Sensing a chance for redemption and reentry into the heart of political action, Boehner vies for the vacated position and emerges victorious.

Positioning himself on an ambitious promise to eradicate earmarks — those tailor-made provisions that woo votes through lucrative projects for representatives' home districts — Boehner's commitment raises skeptical brows. Despite their efficacy in marshaling support for federal spending bills, Boehner identifies earmarks as a breeding ground for corruption and squander.

The "Bridge to Nowhere" debacle underscores his argument. The 223-million-dollar bridge project, vehemently advocated for by Alaskan representative Don Young, draws Boehner's ire and sets the stage for a dramatic confrontation. Young's reaction to Boehner's criticism — an aggressive knife-point threat — only serves to solidify the latter's resolve.

In the aftermath, the House buzzes with rumors of the altercation, but it's Boehner's dogged pursuit against earmarks that reverberates stronger and longer. The journey is arduous, and though the battle cry for banning earmarks punctuates his career, it's not until Boehner reaches the Speaker's chair in 2011 that this promise inches closer to reality.

Boehner's unwavering stand against earmarks and willingness to butt heads with the fiercest of adversaries mark his tenacity as a politician unafraid to cross swords for his principles. It's these very acts of defiance and assertiveness that carve his mark in the annals of congressional history.

The brink of financial ruin and political discord

Picture the summer of 2008, an atmosphere tinged with alarm stands stark against the backdrop of an ailing economy. John Boehner sits in a tension-filled meeting beside Hank Paulson, Treasury Secretary, and Ben Bernanke, Chairman of the Federal Reserve, only to be confronted with a chilling reality: America is teetering on the precipice of financial disaster, an event capable of dragging the global economy into the abyss.

Observing the pallor and quivering lips of the normally steadfast Bernanke, Boehner grasps the severity of their revelation. An economic catastrophe looms, an occurrence so dire that even the stoic façade of Wall Street trembles at its potential.

As Minority Leader, Boehner shoulders the responsibility of bridging the ideological divide, aligning Republicans with President George W. Bush's dire remedy: a bailout of monumental proportions. The required 700-billion-dollar intervention, an economic life vest, is met with reticence by the Republican ranks, in a clash against their fiscal conservatism.

Boehner finds himself championing a cause completely at odds with the core tenets of his party. The quandary is steep—should taxpayers rescue the institutions that gambled away their stability? In normal circumstances, Boehner would stand firmly against such a plan. However, these are anything but normal times. Boehner paints a grim picture reminiscent of the Great Depression's darkest days, impressing upon his colleagues the magnitude of societal upheaval should they fail to act.

Yet, the Republican landscape has shifted beneath his feet. The newcomers, emboldened with ideals of diminished public expenditure and budget equilibrium, are in fact enablers of chaos, seeking to dismantle the very structure of government they've been elected to steward. Their rebellion embellishes their stature with media opportunities, inadvertently fueling a hazardous cycle.

In the face of near disaster, pragmatism wins out, and a blend of Republican and Democratic votes pushes the bailout through. The immediate crisis is averted, but the undercurrents of political turmoil swell, empowering a new wave of hard-right Republicans. Far from being chastised for their brinkmanship, their influence burgeons, setting a precedent of radical ideology gaining traction within the party—a signal that the political storm is far from over.

The tumultuous transition of Republican leadership

As George W. Bush's term dwindled to its close, the prevailing atmosphere among the conservative ranks was one of profound disquiet. The once-heralded President found himself at the nadir of his popularity, challenged by the dissatisfaction of his base and the broad disenchantment of a war-weary American public amidst economic turmoil.

The Republican Party, on the verge of relinquishing the White House, grappled with an identity crisis. Veteran politicians like Boehner and staunch conservatives akin to Dick Cheney sensed a distancing, as an insurgent energy within the party gained momentum. A new generation of Republicans seemed poised to redefine the party's trajectory.

At the center of this shift was John McCain, the presumptive flag-bearer for the Republicans, who undertook a balancing act, catering both to the emergent "crazies" with his selection of Sarah Palin and to his core moderate conservative base. His campaign oscillated between radical overtures and seasoned diplomacy.

In a bold move, McCain pauses his presidential campaign to address the unfolding financial catastrophe, an act heralded by the media as a noble, selfless act of patriotism. Yet, when Boehner meets him in the corridors of power, he perceives an unsettling reality: McCain, far from being the savior figure, arrives empty-handed, lacking both a concrete strategy and the accompaniment of advisers—an act of political theater, poised for costly repercussions.

As the critical meeting at the White House commences with key figures, including Bush and Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House, it becomes clear that the Democrats, with Obama at the helm, have devised a course of action. In stark contrast, McCain's opportunity to demonstrate leadership dissipates with each noncommittal utterance, his responses amounting to little more than a hollow amalgam of optimistic jargon.

Boehner watches as Obama, with a discrete but revealing smile, seems to come to a realization — the missteps of his opponent are inadvertently sculpting his path to victory. In the uncomfortable silence following McCain's remarks, Boehner, too, understands the weight of the moment; the senator from Illinois has inadvertently been gifted the momentum that could carry him to the Oval Office.

John Boehner's roller-coaster ride as Speaker of the House

Elevated to the Speaker's chair in 2011, John Boehner found himself at the helm during a period of extraordinary political upheaval. As the Obama presidency unfolded, Boehner likened his leadership role to presiding over "Crazytown," encapsulating the intensity and unpredictability of the political landscape he was tasked with navigating.

As Obama sought to enact his agenda, Boehner contended with a faction of the Republican Party that categorically refused to acknowledge the president's legitimacy. This climate was intensified by figures like Donald Trump, who propagated conspiracy theories about Obama's heritage and faith.

The rise of conservative media personalities like Mark Levin, Rush Limbaugh, and Sean Hannity had a profound impact on the direction of the Republican Party. Their platforms wielded considerable influence, shaping political discourse and directly impacting the trajectories of political figures and hopefuls.

When 2015 marked the end of his tenure as Speaker, Boehner stepped away from the congressional arena, relieved yet reflective. The shifting political tides and the ascendancy of Trump's brand of leadership left Boehner contemplative about his place within the Republican Party he had known—a party that had transformed so much during, and perhaps because of, his time in office.