Ignored in the expanding Hired Truck scandal and in the continuing violations of the Shakman Decree in Chicago hiring, is the evolution -- and current relevance -- of the role of patronage in politics.

In the days of yore, when Richard J. Daley was the mayor and his Democratic machine ruled with an iron grip, virtually all of the 3,500 precincts in the city's 50 wards had a precinct captain, and usually a half-dozen more assistant captains. These individuals invariably had a city or county job, lived in the precinct, and were on call 24/7. It was not unusual for a precinct to have the same Democratic captain for 25 years.

Forty years ago, when a Chicago home owner or renter had a personal, family or criminal problem or needed some city service, it was the captain who was called, who then interfaced with his alderman, who then used his City Hall "clout" to get the favor done.

It was clearly understood by all that there was a quid pro quo. The payoff was that the requester/voter delivered the votes of family and friends when needed by the captain. Being a "power captain," meaning one capable of delivering a lopsided Democratic vote in every primary and election for select city and county candidates, was the ticket to job security and promotion, if not advancement to some elective office such as state representative, and occasionally to alderman or committeeman.

But the dynamics of favor-asking and election-winning have been revolutionized in the past two decades.

First, Chicagoans don't ask for favors any more. They're paying thousands of dollars annually in property, sales and income taxes, so they demand services. In the past, the captain would regularly circulate through his precincts, schmoozing and visiting with his neighbors. Those neighbors would call him first with any problem. Now, residents call their alderman, who then calls the relevant city department, which then presumably provides the necessary service.

The alderman then hopes that the requester gives him the credit -- and a vote. Mayor Rich Daley has made certain that every alderman gets his or her fair share of city services and that no alderman is neglected or ostracized. But since City Hall has the ultimate decision-making control, every alderman lives in mortal fear. What if Daley decides to cut their services? And that fear makes them a Daley supporter on City Council votes.

Second, rapid population turnover and demographic change, coupled with simple inaccessibility, has rendered the influence of the permanent precinct captain obsolete. The average property turnover time in the city is less than 5 years for condominiums and townhouses and about 7 years for homes. Long-term captain/voter social and political relationships are impossible. Racial change is another factor.

But, most importantly, Chicago voters won't be bothered by somebody seeking their vote. Much as people resent the intrusion of phone solicitors, they're similarly bothered by unknown doorknockers who presume to tell them how to vote. And, in most high-rises and other large apartment buildings, it's difficult to get in and, if successful, difficult to get people to open their doors.

Third, information availability has exploded. Voter perception of state and national candidates is gleaned from broadcast television, cable TV or the Internet, and information on local candidates is obtained from direct mail. Voters will not succumb to the blandishments of some faceless precinct caller, and only occasionally will they give their vote to a longtime captain.

Therefore, raising money to disseminate propaganda by mail, phone, and print and electronic media is far more important than raising a precinct army to dump printed literature on voters' doorsteps, in mailboxes or in vestibules.

So, given this reality, why would the Daley Administration be so focused on awarding city jobs and contracts to those referred by "connected" politicians? The are several reasons:

First, the mayor needs to have an independent power base that enables him to intimidate the aldermen. City and county employees, if politically active, belong to the Democratic organization of their local ward committeeman, who usually also is the alderman.

Over time, as employees age and master the intricacies of their bureaucracy, they become less politically active and greatly disinclined to walk a precinct. It's perceived to be demeaning to have to beg for votes. Likewise, an alderman, over time, develops a bond with his or her constituents and gets credit for the services provided by city departments in the ward.

So how does Daley keep the aldermen in line? He has the muscle to ensure that city workers in the various wards do not work for their alderman, and his brother, Cook County Board finance chairman John Daley, can do likewise with county workers.

As testimony from the recent federal trials of former Daley Administration officials Donald Tomczak and Robert Sorich showed, the mayor's Office of Intergovernmental Affairs rigged the hiring and promotion of individuals who would work precincts as a condition of getting and keeping their job. Those employees were then dispatched to work for the Hispanic Democratic Organization or a similar entity consisting of white workers which concentrated in white-majority wards.

Their task was simple and clear: On any given weekend, several months before a primary or election, 200 or more city employees would show up at some site in a targeted ward. They would get their clipboards and voter lists and flood the precincts. Oftentimes a worker would be assigned to only a block or two, but he would be expected to contact every voter (or to register nonvoters) in that area. They would knock on doors, identify themselves as being from the "mayor's office," and announce that they were taking a survey of "neighborhood needs."

Every complaint, grievance and request was carefully catalogued, and appropriate city agencies were ordered to cure the problem forthwith. Then, several weeks later, the "Daley volunteer" would return with an itemization of fulfilled requests for the street, block or neighborhood and put the quid pro quo to the voter: The mayor got "something" done, and if you want to get more "somethings" in the future, then you must support "somebody," who is the mayor's candidate for some office.

The "flying squadron" tactic, perfected by former state representative Al Ronan in the 1980s and 1990s, has been phenomenally successful for Daley -- and extraordinarily intimidating to the aldermen. No alderman wishes to incur Daley's wrath, even though his underlings are being convicted and the feds are moving up the City Hall food chain, inching ever closer to the Fifth Floor. None wants to invite the invasion of 200-plus workers into his or her ward.

The performance of the HDO is telling: In the 2002 primary, the group's workers flooded into the 20th Illinois Senate District backing Daley-endorsed Iris Martinez against Alderman Mike Wojcik, Martinez won the primary 13, 839-8,660, getting 61.5 percent of the vote. In 2003 they flooded the 12th and 35th wards, ousting incumbent aldermen Ray Frias and Vilma Colom. Likewise, a group of white workers under the control of Tomczak flooded the 5th U.S. House District in 2002, enabling Rahm Emanuel to win the Democratic primary with 50.5 percent of the vote.

Even with the HDO under siege, every legislative candidate that the organization backed in 2006 won their primary.

And second, those who get contracts contribute to Daley and to Daley-supported candidates. Hired Truck contractors were expected to donate liberally.

The primary weapon of defense for the aldermen is their committee staff. Each alderman has at least five staffers at the ward office to handle the constituent service load, but the aldermen who are committee chairmen get another half-dozen or more staffers in City Hall. It is their job to get the ward service requests and then doggedly hound the city bureaucracy to make sure the tasks are done.

However, precinct workers are still indispensable in two areas: gathering signatures on nominating petitions and election day electioneering.

The mayor and key county office holders rely on certain wards to produce the thousands of signatures needed to get candidates on the ballot -- or to keep them off. A classic example was the effort in 2002 by 45th Ward Committeeman Tom Lyons' captains. They got more than 10,000 signatures for Alderman Pat Levar on the first weekend that petitions could be circulated. You can sign only one petition, and when opponent Mike Lappe wound up with some of those Levar signers on his petitions, they were challenged and disqualified.

And, on any election day, the most powerful Democratic organizations have dozens of workers, checkers and runners in every precinct.

The role of precinct captain is rapidly withering in Chicago politics, as is the HDO-type "flying squad," but with more than 50,000 city and county workers in Chicago, some new technique surely will surface to extract their time and money.