Big Matt Attack

"This is one of those no-win situations for people in the Legislature, me included," he says. "It doesn't matter which way you go -- somebody is going to be extraordinarily angry with you. And those are the kinds of decisions that obviously try the souls of people in public office."

Before the committee vote, members had worn their vexation in different ways.

Chuck Graham, a Columbia Democrat who uses a wheelchair, said he wanted to give people hope. He choked back tears as he spoke, then voted against the ban.

Chris Koster, a Harrisonville Republican, seemed to relish the fact that his impending vote remained a mystery. As if to build the drama, Koster, a former Cass County prosecutor with TV-actor looks, droned on about the challenging nature of the question and his "profound concern" that lawmakers didn't have enough scientific information on which to base their decisions. Then he voted for the ban.

Victor Callahan, a Democrat from Independence, voted for the ban but offered no explanation (though he is known to oppose abortion rights). An hour after the committee met, a Pitch reporter went to Callahan's office in the Capitol to ask the senator about his vote. As the Pitch explained the reason for the visit to Callahan's aide, who sat in a tiny reception area, the door to Callahan's office swung shut.

Matt Bartle says he became interested in cloning about three years ago, when a co-worker e-mailed him a story about researchers who had announced that they could clone a human within 10 years.

"Is this legal?" the co-worker asked Bartle.

Bartle concluded that no Missouri law prevented it.

Bartle's interest in cloning obviously goes beyond the idea of a Dr. Evil stamping out a Mini Me. Making clones means messing with embryos.

Missouri Right to Life endorsed Bartle when he first ran for the state House of Representatives in 1998. He stood for keeping taxes low and banning late-term abortions.

Bartle is a lifelong Baptist. He attends First Baptist Church of Raytown, a megachurch on 350 Highway. Former Democratic state Sen. Ken Jacob says Bartle's faith is genuine. "You get into his car, the Bible is right there on his car seat. The cartoons for his kids are biblical stories," Jacob says.

Bartle grew up mainly in Columbia. His father worked for an insurance company, and his mother stayed at home. Politics and the law appealed to Bartle at an early age. He says he was intrigued by the Watergate prosecutors and the Republicans who had the courage to speak out against President Richard Nixon. He was in high school when Ronald Reagan's election revived American conservatism.

After attending public schools in Columbia, Bartle graduated magna cum laude from the University of Missouri-Columbia with a degree in economics. During summer and winter breaks, he collected trash. He earned a law degree at Northwestern University.

After law school, Bartle clerked for a Reagan-appointed federal judge in New Orleans. He married, moved to Kansas City in 1991 and joined the mighty Bryan Cave law firm.

"I liked the area," Bartle says. "We really liked Lee's Summit. Now we've planted our roots very deep. We just love it out here." He and his wife, Annette, have two children.

Bartle served two terms in the Missouri House. His toughest election was in 2002, when he fought a fellow state representative in the Republican Senate primary. Bartle, calling himself the "proven conservative," beat Carson Ross, who offered himself as more of a moderate, by about 1,200 votes. "I'm going to have to look at whether there is a role for a compassionate conservative," Ross told the Star on election night. "Maybe they are out there, but they didn't go to the polls today."

The recent advent of term limits allows bright, ambitious politicians to rise quickly to prominence in Jefferson City. Bartle has added virtues.

"Matt is earnest," says state Rep. Jeff Harris, a Columbia Democrat. Harris and Bartle graduated from the same high school and worked together at Bryan Cave. "He is intelligent. I think he's personable. And even though we certainly disagree on probably a number of issues, I still respect him professionally, and I still would consider him a friend."

Jacob says Bartle is bright and principled but also rigid. "You're not going to convince Matt of anything," he says. "His mind is pretty much made up."

Bartle holds his beliefs so tightly, Jacob says, that he seems to want to impose them on others. Jacob recalls that last year, Bartle, presiding over the Senate as two retiring senators (each with 40 years of experience) were recognized, led a prayer from the dais that mentioned Jesus by name. Jacob, who served in the Legislature for 22 years, had heard many prayers on the floors of the House and Senate -- but none as commanding as Bartle's.

"It was almost like an instruction," Jacob says.

Bartle's research suggested that nothing in Missouri law prevented human reproductive cloning. And a cloned human being is a repugnant idea to the vast majority of scientists and laypeople alike, regardless of their politics.