Inquirer Editorial: Dirty pictures

While men and women of note may be displayed in gilt frames and careful poses, the usual suspects have to settle for harsh lighting and height markers. The conventions of a portrait gallery, in other words, differ from those of a police lineup.

The trouble with any sizable collection of Pennsylvania politicians' likenesses is that it is likely to be both. Take the pantheon of past legislative leaders whose images hang in the state Capitol: No fewer than four of the men depicted went on to pose for their mug shots.

Some current legislators have argued persuasively that the convicts - three former House speakers and a onetime Senate president pro tempore - should not be honored alongside the likes of Benjamin Franklin (who briefly served as speaker of the Provincial Assembly, the legislature's colonial predecessor). But in a body that includes several members under criminal investigation and one facing charges, the idea that the portraits should be removed qualifies as controversial.

Last week, legislative leaders arrived at a Solomonic solution. The portraits of the convicts remain, but they have been adorned with plaques taking ignominious note of their criminal convictions - in three of the four cases, for misusing state resources for political purposes.

A portrait of former House Speaker John Perzel (R., Philadelphia), for instance, now bears the awkward addendum that he "was defeated for reelection to the House in November 2010, prior to pleading guilty to a variety of corruption-related charges, and was sentenced to prison on March 30, 2012." As for former Senate President Pro Tem Bob Mellow (D., Lackawanna), his unfortunate footnote points out that he "pled guilty to political corruption and tax evasion, and was sentenced to prison on November 30, 2012."

These shame necklaces are a remarkable result for Harrisburg in a couple of respects: They represent a compromise of sorts, and they take public note of the corrosive effects of corruption (presumably in a corrosion-resistant alloy).

Sure, removing the portraits would have made for a more militant gesture. As activist Eric Epstein complained to the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, Pennsylvania is now home to "the only state capital that features a museum for political kleptomaniacs."

But the scarlet letters are a more appropriately obtrusive statement than a blank wall, commemorating a dark side of the state's history instead of censoring it. As Steve Miskin, a spokesman for House Speaker Sam Smith, reminded the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, "You can't change history." How sadly true.