The scandal has gained traction among good-government groups and op-ed columnists, in large part because it is so easily understood: money for nothing, seemingly without approval from anyone other than the lawmakers themselves.

“Whether it’s legal or not, the larger issue is whether it’s ethical and does it cast a further pall on the Legislature itself? And it certainly does,” said Gerald Benjamin, a professor of political science at the State University at New Paltz, who has observed decades worth of scandals in the Capitol. “It’s one more piece of evidence that we are dealing with a corrupt and self-serving institution.”

It also appears to be gaining traction in the Legislature. Senator Pamela Helming, a Republican who represents the Finger Lakes region, said last week that she returned two checks, uncashed, for stipend money for a position she did not hold.

A state law, dating to the 1970s, prescribes more than $1.2 million in lulus for the Senate every year, and nearly $1.6 million for the Assembly. And each year, the legislative chambers dole out dozens of lulus, with the richest payments being decided by the ruling party, and generally going to the most experienced and loyal members.

New York is one of only a handful of states that rewards stipends to so many committee chairs and other leaders, and only Pennsylvania is more generous, giving a $47,880 perk to its president pro tem, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.

Such a system, of course, seemingly has the potential to be used to curry favor by leaders, causing some legislative bodies to ban it. Last year, for instance, the New York City Council did away with lulus as part of a deal to raise its members’ salaries to $148,500, a large pay increase that towers over the base pay for state legislators: $79,500.