In my continuing effort to explain how Washington works, I have dropped into the offices of the Salt Institute, one of thousands of organizations around this city with names like "The Salt Institute." No one knows exactly what these organizations do, but they are mostly staffed by white men in suits, men like Salt Institute President Richard L. Hanneman. He has agreed to an interview even though it is apparent that I have not done a heck of a lot of preparatory research.
"What is your position on nuclear proliferation and the role of the United States in a post-cold-war global environment?"
"That has nothing to do with our mission. We are not involved with strategic arms limitation. We are involved with sodium chloride."
"Sodium chloride?"
"Salt."
"You represent salt?"
"Salt producers, yes."
"Wow. Is there a Ketchup Institute?"
"I have no idea."
"What is your budget?"
"One point five million dollars."
"Is there any commercial product or commodity so mundane that it does not need a fancy Washington, D.C., lobbying group to represent its interests?"
"It's not the product we are looking out for, it is the consumers using the product. With government so intrusively involved in every activity of economy and society, unless they understand your product, they might unwittingly be put in the position of denying consumers the ability to use it."
So the answer is that everyone needs a lobbyist, even producers of . . . ?
"Sodium chloride, yes."
"In your professional opinion, is there any food that could not be improved in taste by the addition of salt?"
"I cannot think of any."
"Really?"
"Really."
"How about bananas? Wouldn't that be weird?"
"My job description does not permit me to find any use of salt to be weird."
"Are there any overlooked potential commercial uses for salt?"
"We hope so."
"What are they?"
"They wouldn't be overlooked if we knew what they were. We have 14,000 known uses, but we really need that 14,001st. For growth. Do you know of one?"
"I am thinking maybe of a military use. Maybe we could rub it in the wounds of our enemies."
"I don't think the Geneva Convention would allow that."
"You sound disappointed."
"No, I'm not. I would draw the line there."
"Salt is good for human health, right?"
"It is essential. Do you know the basketball player Chris Mullin, who plays for Golden State?"
"Yes."
"He went on a low-salt diet and got dizzy and fell down and missed $250,000 worth of games."
"Maybe your organization could lobby for a law requiring employers to put a salt lick at every water cooler."
"That might be unsanitary. But a salt pill dispenser might be a good idea."
"You should look into it."
"Okay."
"I see that you recently put out a press release immediately after a 128-car fatal chain-reaction accident on I-95 in a Virginia snowstorm, pointing out the importance of salting roads in icy weather. Wasn't that a little ghoulish and opportunistic?"
"Maybe. Actually, I regret the release did go out. But . . . when you salt the roads you reduce injury accidents 88.3 percent."
"This brochure of yours here says that salt can be used for drip-proofing candles, cleaning dried-on egg, extending broom life, restoring sponges and reinvigorating goldfish."
"You got it."
"You people do good work."
"Thank you."
"Do you object to the use of the expression 'taking something with a grain of salt,' since it links salt with lying?"
"No."
"Do you feel salt was slandered by the Bible, because of the story of Lot's wife, which links salt with sexual depravity?"
"No."
"Why don't these things bother you?"
"They get the name out there. All publicity is good publicity. It's free advertising. You know what they say, just spell the name right."
"Is that why you are sitting for this stupid interview?"
"Yes."
"S-A-L-T."
"Good."
