The Utah State Legislature reached the end of its not quite-45 day session last week, and politically moderate Utahns have but one thing to say: “Phew!”
The collective sigh of relief at the conclusion of what one commentator called “the greatest show on earth” reflects the general confusion, puzzlement and even angst with which most moderate and liberal residents of Utah view the antics of state legislators. Arguably the most conservative in the entire country, the state Legislature has a well-established reputation for goofiness and unpredictability. Every year reporters and commentators scratch their heads at its inexplicable clowning and ask why Utahns continually let extremists turn lawmaking into a spectator sport.
Among the many curious creations receiving debate in the House and Senate this year:
?A bill that would authorize state legislators to slash the salaries of state agency bosses who ignore the law. Clearly aimed at U President Bernie Machen and his on campus firearm ban, the bill just baaaaarely met defeat by three votes in the house after clearing the senate.
?A bill to force the plaintiffs in the legacy highway suit to pay the costs of delayed construction if the state wins.
?A bill to eliminate the salaries of two state health inspectors who checked some water near St. George in the district of the representative who sponsored the bill(!).
?A slew of gun happy legislation, including a measure to ensure foster parents’ and state workers’ already-existing right to carry concealed weapons and a bill to create lockers for concealed guns outside state courtrooms.
It doesn’t stop there. The list of bizarre legislation could go on and on?just like it does every year. The cycle, it seems, may never end. Partly in confusion, partly in disgust, therefore, moderates observe the carnage and wonder what makes the body count keep on climbing. Why, they ask, is the state Legislature always so gosh darned kooky?
One explanation for the erratic nature of local lawmaking is that state legislators aren’t professionals. They never get a chance to develop the political skills that make national lawmaking seem so smooth. If you’ve ever seen Sen. Orrin Hatch, you know what I’m talking about. The man oozes so much grease that just listening to him makes your arteries clog. State legislators in comparison look like bumbling clowns. That’s because, unlike Orrin, who’s had nearly two decades to hone his skills, they have only a few weeks each year.
Another explanation is that the geographical closeness of the state Legislature and the narrowness of its concerns make it seem less ominous than the national congress. According to this line of thinking, the Legislature really isn’t all that crazy. We just think it is. When we watch “Nightline” or read articles in the New York Times about President Bush and Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle, we get the impression that they’re somehow more than human. They seem like grand actors on a grand stage. On the other hand, it’s odd to think of the state representative who lives next door doing anything really significant. Even Gov. Leavitt and state Senate Majority Leader Al Mansell look more like average Joes than superhumans when they do a news conference on KUED or say stupid things in the Deseret News. And when legislative hardliners threaten Bernie Machen over concealed weapons, we roll our eyes and wonder why they can’t just get a life.
The biggest factor contributing to the state Legislature’s general silliness, though, is voter apathy. Middle-of-the-road Republicans and Democrats of all colors in Utah seem to be staying away from the polls in droves. The vast majority of Utahns don’t even know who their state legislators are, let alone how they performed in this year’s session.
Simple political logic reveals how this low turnout plays into the hands of extremists. Often, hardcore right-wingers are the only people with the political gusto necessary to put together a campaign and attend legislative sessions. Far rightists often are also the only people willing to vote. As a result, mega-conservatives like Sen. Mike Waddoups, a Republican from what would seem like a relatively moderate Salt Lake district, show up each year in frightening numbers. The most high-profile (albeit national level) incidence of such an election came in 1996, when extremists in both parties hijacked Utah’s second congressional district primary. Voter turnout was so low that hardcore Democrats succeeded in nominating left winger Rocky Anderson and their Republican counterparts got ultra-rightist Merill Cook.
Some say that moderate Utahns who wonder why the state Legislature is so kooky should just stop wondering. Maybe local lawmakers aren’t really as strange as we think they are; we might be too harsh on them because they’re amateurs or because they’re so close to home. The state Legislature’s weirdness, however, seems well grounded in reality. One look at the list of strange bills emerging from this past session makes that clear. The real explanation for ludicrous lawmaking, therefore, is that the majority of reasonable citizens just don’t care enough to change things. When the moderates are away, the extremists will play.
Unless something radically changes between now and next year, don’t hold your breath. The greatest show on earth is coming back to town.
John welcomes feedback at: [email protected] or send letters to the editor to: [email protected].