While other state lawmakers are accustomed to cloaking their financial secrets behind lax disclosure laws, Assemblyman Micah Kellner stands apart.

Unlike most of his Albany colleagues, the 29-year-old Democrat of the Upper East Side has no problem providing an unredacted review of his financial disclosure forms. Not that his forms disclose terribly much: The only income Mr. Kellner earns comes from his $79,500-a-year salary as a legislator.

“I guess I’m very poor,” he said. “It’s the most depressing day having to fill out these forms.”

Other lawmakers contacted by The New York Sun, including the four legislative leaders, were not so forthcoming, refusing to make available the full versions of their annual statements.

Under rules set up by lawmakers in the 1980s, they are permitted to conceal how much outside income they earn, a practice that is coming under increasing scrutiny.

Last week’s arrest of a Queens assemblyman, Anthony Seminerio, whom federal prosecutors accuse of accepting payoffs from hospital executives in exchange for lobbying his colleagues on budget matters, has again trained a spotlight on Albany’s disclosure laws. Critics say they are too weak, allowing lawmakers to hide business interests that could potentially conflict with their public duties.

Mr. Seminerio, who maintains his innocence, established a private consulting firm to sell his services. By law, he was not required to publicly disclose the nature of his business or how much outside income he earned.

In Albany, it’s hard to find a lawmaker defending the current system. In theory, most are supportive of stricter reporting requirements. Some, including Mr. Kellner, are pressing for new resolutions or legislation, saying the Seminerio arrest has undermined their credibility.

Mr. Kellner said he is concerned that the public has a perception that lawmakers are “crooks or clowns.” For the “vast majority of us, neither of those things is true,” he said, adding that by giving the public a fuller account of their outside work, lawmakers could better make that case.

In practice, few are willing to share information beyond what the law requires. Those who are so inclined say they fear such an act of transparency would alienate their less-forthcoming colleagues.

“I’m not looking to act like a hero,” a Democratic assemblyman of Queens, Mark Weprin, said when asked if he would share his forms. He did volunteer that he works part-time at a law firm (“to keep my legal skills alive”), which he said pays him between $20,000 and $60,000 a year.

The Democratic speaker of the Assembly, Sheldon Silver, and the Republican majority leader of the Senate, Dean Skelos, who are of counsel to Weitz & Luxenberg in Manhattan and Ruskin Moscou Faltischek in Nassau County, respectively, say they are not opposed to tighter disclosure laws but have no immediate plans to change the rules.

“I’m not going to go there,” a spokesman for Mr. Silver, Daniel Weiller, said when asked if the speaker would provide an uncensored look at his statements, adding: “He has said he is open to greater disclosure.”

Mr. Skelos, in an interview with the Sun last month, said he would have “no problem” sharing a full version of his forms. A spokesman for the Senate leader later clarified that Mr. Skelos was unaware that the income details were redacted. He said Mr. Skelos would make that information available as long as the rest of the Legislature followed suit.

“He will do it if everybody does it as well,” the spokesman, John McArdle, said. “He did not realize it was redacted.”

The current rules that dictate what lawmakers do and don’t have to disclose were put in place two decades ago after a rash of embarrassing ethics scandals compelled legislators to consent to broader disclosure laws, applying to elected officials as well as executive and legislative employees.

Every year, lawmakers submit forms to the Legislative Ethics Commission, a body under their control, listing any outside employment and various sources of income, including gifts, debts, and financial holdings. They don’t have to specify an exact value of income, rather they report their earnings in the form of lettered categories, ranging from A (less than $5,000) to F ($250,000 or more).

The commission redacts the letters, leaving the public in the dark about how much lawmakers are earning.

For instance, the Democratic leader of the Senate, Malcolm Smith, according to his 2006 form, was employed by a security company called M-3 (which is now out of business) and received income from a title insurance company in Queens called Great Abstract.

When asked for a redaction-free copy of Mr. Smith’s forms, a spokeswoman inquired if other lawmakers had volunteered the documents. Told that only one lawmaker contacted by the Sun had done so, the aide said she would consider responding to the request but never did.

The Republican minority leader of the Assembly, James Tedisco, also declined to release his forms.

“It’s the kind of thing we don’t make available. I’m just not going to be able to provide that information,” a spokesman for the lawmaker, Joshua Fitzpatrick, said. Asked to explain what was Mr. Tedisco’s objection to providing the information, the spokesman said: “I don’t have anything for you beyond that.”