Rep. Barney Frank's announcement Monday that he will end his 30 years of service in Congress after this term surprised most observers. Having handily fended off a strong challenger in the Republican wave election of 2010, he didn't seem especially vulnerable, even with a redesigned district stripped of some of his most reliable supporters.
Frank's rationale seems easy enough to accept. The new district would have forced him to introduce himself to tens of thousands of new constituents, he said, and he had planned to retire in 2014 anyway. Running in the new district would have forced him to raise at least $2 million, he said, a task he did not relish.
Like others who have recently retired after long service in Congress, Frank noted a deterioration of cooperation and respect within the House, and a deterioration of the civil conversation across the country. With activists calling the shots in both parties, the incentive to work across party lines has all but disappeared. With voters increasingly getting their information from politicized media, suspicion of politicians has made it difficult for a political leader's ideas to be heard.
Frank was never a politician out of central casting. His appearance was rumpled at best. He never lost his New Jersey accent despite spending his adult life in Boston. He gladly embraced causes other politicians would run from - gay rights, deep cuts in defense spending, marijuana decriminalization - and he made little visible effort to restrain his acerbic wit.
What has been most remarkable about Frank's House career is that he could be so effective a legislative mechanic despite his role as an ideological and partisan warrior. He was a master of parliamentary procedures. He had a keen mind for intricate policy matters. He could count votes and he could cut deals. It is no coincidence that he led the House efforts on two signature accomplishments in recent years: reforming financial regulatory law and repealing the ban on gays and lesbians in the military.
That combination of rhetorical fearlessness and legislative effectiveness is rare in the halls of Congress. Frank, 71, promises he will remain a vocal participant in the nation's debates, and we're glad of that. But the U.S. House of Representatives won't be quite the same place without him.