The New Centurions

THE shock troops in the battle for consumer protection have long been citizens' groups and individuals who received little government support, financial or otherwise. In recent years, however, as consumerism has grown into a potent political force, officials at every level of government have got into the act by creating their own consumer offices. Many of these tax-supported agencies have been increasingly effective in guarding the public against television-repair gyps, cheating furniture dealers, heavy-thumbed butchers and other unscrupulous businessmen.

Not every government excursion into consumerism has been a rousing success. Most disappointing has been the Nixon Administration's Office of Consumer Affairs, headed by Virginia Knauer, a pleasant Philadelphia matron who has been a muted consumer champion. On the whole, though, the new consumer centurions are active and able. Some notable examples:

> New York City's Consumer Affairs Commissioner Bess Myerson, 48, best symbolizes the clout of official consumer advocates. Myerson, who was Miss America in 1945, is paid $35,000 a year. She has worked, wheedled and fought to gain power for her agency, including the right to write and enforce its own regulations against deceptive advertising, spurious vocational schools and high-pressure collection agencies. Her four-year-old, 350-member department is buttressed by a $3.5 million annual budget, and has a young legal staff that is empowered to move swiftly to prosecute businessmen who break consumer laws and to get back money for customers who can show that they were cheated. The department's 80 inspectors fan out daily through the city to check stores and issue citations on violations, including improper labeling and false weights and measures; fines range as high as $250. Notes Myerson: "The main thing is to aim the artillery at the people who are preying on the poor."

> California's two-year-old department of consumer affairs is rapidly becoming the state's most active agency largely because of its director, John Kehoe, 42, a former legislative aide to Governor Ronald Reagan. Kehoe, who gets along well with the state's lawmakers, helped guide through the legislature a law creating the nation's first bureau of auto repair. Every auto-repair shop in the state must adhere to such basic standards as making all cost estimates in writing and clearly noting if the parts used are rebuilt. They must also post prominently the bureau's telephone number, which consumers can call toll free if they believe that they are being cheated. In addition, Kehoe set up a department of consumer services to collect and act on consumer complaints. In July alone, the department got 6,000 complaints, many about housing-repair contractors. All told, the department helped to bring legal action, including license suspensions and cease-and-desist orders, in 2,371 cases.

> Los Angeles started its bureau of consumer affairs just five months ago, but under its general manager, Fern Jellison, a veteran city employee, it has already run up a strong record. So far it has received more than 4,500 complaints, which involved a wide range of businesses from questionable land-sale schemes to fast-buck health-spa operations. Many of these complaints are resolved informally by one of the bureau's 14 investigators who visit the accused businessmen. The bureau has obtained refunds and cost adjustments amounting to $267,000. Says Jellison: "No one in our bureau says 'Sorry, we have no jurisdiction.' We pride ourselves on cutting through bureaucratic red tape."

> In the Pittsburgh area, Donna Deaner, 30, a onetime newspaper and television journalist, directs the Allegheny County consumer affairs bureau. Since its founding 18 months ago, Deaner and her staff of six investigators have worked informally with merchants, salesmen and repairmen to resolve thousands of consumer complaints and have managed to get back $150,000 for aggrieved shoppers. Though the bureau lacks the power to levy fines, it has made its weight felt. When investigators discovered recently that several supermarkets in the city were labeling $1.59-a-lb. rib roast as $2.19-a-lb. club steak, and selling rump as more expensive eye-round cuts, Deaner warned the store managers to stop. When they did not, she told the press, and the practice ceased. Still Deaner believes that her department should be able to enforce consumer fraud laws, and she is preparing a bill for the state legislature that would give it such power. Says she: "All we can depend on at present is publicity and the truth."

> Minnesota's Consumer Service Section, headed by Director Sherry Chenoweth, 29, a former television news reporter, is the state's key consumer guardian. In the first seven months of this year, acting on complaints about auto-repair overcharges and pushy door-to-door selling tactics, the section has helped persuade businessmen to return $60,000 to cheated consumers. Recently a promoter came into the state promising big earnings to people who bought distributorships for Mini Meal candy bars, which he claimed were developed for astronauts. Section investigators wangled an invitation to a closed sales presentation and decided that the earnings claims were wildly overblown. Chenoweth persuaded the promoter to get out of the state. Now she aims to get the legislature to approve a bill that would require all auto-repair firms and car dealers to be licensed, so that if a firm were proved to be cheating, the state could put it out of business.

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