As a former Chicago alderman, I am often asked about ethical dilemmas faced by public officials. Since more than a dozen of my former City Council colleagues have gone to jail over the past two decades, it does seem that public officials in Chicago have a hard time determining how they should act. Yet, in fact, they face few hard ethical choices.

The easiest ethical dilemma to decide is outright bribery. Taking money in exchange for a vote or administrative decision in government is not only immoral, it is illegal. However, there are subtleties. First, there is the difference between what George Washington Plunkitt of New York's Tammany Machine called "honest" and "dishonest" graft. Dishonest graft in Chicago is receiving an envelope with $500 in small, unmarked bills in return for getting a zoning change through the City Council. "Honest graft" is when your law firm gets paid large legal fees for a minor job or your insurance firm writes a million dollar business policy in return for the same zoning change. Or better yet, you just happen to buy land that the government will need to purchase later for a yet unannounced park or highway.

The solution to these ethical dilemmas is very simple: Cast no vote on any issue in which you have a material interest. You can simply abstain and make your interest in the legislation or administrative policy a matter of public record. Why is this so difficult for public officials in Chicago? Because the Chicago Democratic Machine is built on the exchange that voters make of their votes for favors (government ser vices) and that precinct captains make of their precinct work for government jobs. The distinction between these transactions, by which machine politicians come to power, and the exchange of their vote for cash payments is hard for them to understand.

There are more substantial ethical dilemmas for public officials. Should they accept campaign contributions or gifts from individuals or businesses they have helped in the past as part of their governmental duties? Generally speaking, the answer is no but there are gradations to be considered. What about small Christmas gifts, for instance? The simplest solution to the dilemma was developed by former alderman and U.S. Senator Paul Douglas fifty years ago. He recommended that public officials set a low limit-in today's economy perhaps $25-and reject gifts over the set amount with a letter of explanation. As to campaign contributions, a public: official or candidate should personally monitor all campaign contributions and reject any from individuals or businesses with legislation pending (such as proposed zoning changes or liquor licenses) or from constituents who have had ordinances passed within a set period of time.

These ethical problems are straight forward and easily solved. But public officials also have to decide between two good laws or between mildly positive legislative victories to be achieved by compromise and a less sure opportunity of an even better result in the long run. As leader of the small opposition bloc in the Daley and Bilandic dominated City Councils, I found this to be a less difficult problem than it might appear.

The problem arises most often in voting for the city budget. Should an alderman favor street repair neded by many people or more food for the hundgry needed more desperately by a few people? Even with a $2 billion city budget, choices must be made. Not all programs, even if needed, can be fully funded.

While I often fought for better street repair and general city services, I always felt that my job as alderman was to fight for the poor who didn't have the clout in city hall to get their fair share of the city budget. But I always knew there was plenty of waste in the patronage-bloated city budget to cover the costs of both street repair and help for the poor. If I had been mayor and had had an obligation to balance the budget and keep all political forces happy, I might have voted differently, but I doubt it. As long as the waste in the budget was great, I felt free to advocate strongly both the needs of the poor and better city services for everyone.

The problem of when to compromise is harder. For example, if the city administration would give $3 million to support emergency shelters for the homeless now but $10 million is the funding really needed, should a public official accept the $3 million and vote for the budget? Honest, reasonable public officials differ and can justify their position by examples of public accomplishments. The true answer is sometimes yes and sometimes no-it depends on what is at stake in a particular decision.

In general, however, I am convinced that public officials should start by advocating the more radical position in government and compromise only when it is clear that no more can be won. Most public officials capitulate too easily in thehope of gaining more power-and higher office-for themselves. The most important role of a public official is to demand major changes in public policy and to formulate strategies by which they could be achieved. The best public officials leave a legacy to be enacted by others long after they leave public office. The test of public service is not the immediate compromise but the long term shift of public policy.

Possibly the most difficult thing for a public official, as it is for most of us, is to go against unspoken norms. Very early in my first term as alderman, Mayor Daley proposed Tom Keane, Jr. (son of the most powerful alderman in the City Council and Daley's floor leader) for a seat on the Zoning Board of Appeals. Compounding the nepotism was a conflict of interest. Tom Keane, Jr. was also Vice-President of Arthur Rubloff Company, one of the most powerful real estate developers in Chicago.

1 was alone in opposing the appointment. Council norms dictated that action involving another alderman's family should not be questioned.

Having violated the norm once, I found future efforts to raise embarrassing questions in the City Council much easier. Questioning this appointment, which would otherwise have gone unquestioned, helped to undermine public support of a machine built on nepotism and favoritism. Sometimes good ethics is also good politics.