Page 13 of Tuesday’s Butler Eagle featured an article on former state Treasurer Rob McCord’s guilty plea related to charges of attempted extortion against two potential donors to his unsuccessful campaign in the Democratic primary for governor.

McCord’s story is being described as a rapid rise and a sudden fall from grace. As the state treasurer, McCord, 55, had hoped to leverage name recognition and his claims that he helped guide the state through rough financial times to become the Democratic nominee for governor. But early in the race, then-candidate and now governor, Tom Wolf, used millions of his own money to fund an advertising campaign that gave him a lead in the polls that he never relinquised.

McCord’s campaign website stated “Rob McCord and his team have shunned the old politics and used his energy and experience to guide the state through one of the most difficult economic periods in history.” It’s a nice sentiment, but trying to shake down potential campaign donors with threats that they might lose state contracts does not sound like someone who “shunned the old politics.”

In fact, McCord’s attempt to extort campaign donations from a Philadephia law firm and a property management company in Western Pennsylvania is probably both old and new politics. It’s long been known that some elected officials use their influence to direct government spending — and then use the profit in those deals to press for campaign donations from those doing business with the government.

The negative view many people have of lobbyists is tied to the idea that lobbyists pressure politicians, using campaign donations as a tool. While that is sometimes true, the pressure can come from the other side — meaning politicians often pressure lobbyists and corporate interests to donate to their re-election camapaigns — or risk losing a friend to push helpful legislation, block profit-threatening legislation or insert targeted loopholes into the tax code.

The ethics charges that have swirled around the Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission in recent years include allegations that a few officials in Harrisburg would instruct turnpike management to send the message that companies doing business with the turnpike should donate to campaign fund-raising events and otherwise contribute to certain re-election campaigns if they wanted to retain the turnpike’s business.

Prior to his appearance in federal court in Harrisburg, McCord released a video, saying “I stepped over the line by trying to take advantage of the fact that two potential contributors who wanted to continue to do business with the Commonwealth — and by developing talking points to remind them that I could make things difficult for them.”

McCord is not the only official in state government to have stepped over, or gotten very close to, that same line. Fund raising is tough, competitive work and those who exert some control over state spending have a tool that some, like McCord, are not afraid to use. Voters can only hope it’s a relatively rare occurance — and that law enforcement is watching.

Beyond fueling a further erosion of public trust in politicians, McCord’s plea deal raises questions — How were federal officials tipped off about McCord’s actions? What has McCord told investigators in an attempt to get charges reduced?

McCord’s story also raises the issue of what kind of an administration would he preside over if he had won the nomination and been elected governor.

McCord’s story is only the latest in a string of recent stories of Harrisburg corruption, which include the Bonusgate scandal, Kids-for-Cash judicial scandal, prison terms for several party leaders as well as the removal of two Supreme Court justices over political scandals.

After so many scandals and convictions, the public is less likely to feel shock and outrage over McCord’s admission and more likely to say, “Oh, well, another crooked politician.”

It’s a shame. And not much has changed, despite much talk about ethics and reform.