Not just another employee

Last week’s entry, “The Process,” caught the eye of fellow former Capitol scribe Steve Kraske, once the ace political reporter for the Kansas City Star and now an associate teaching professor at UMKC.  Steve also does a weekly radio show about current events on NPR affiliate KCUR-FM.   He decided we needed to talk about “The Process” on his Monday show this week.

http://kcur.org/post/seg-1-gov-greitens-and-process-impeachment-seg-2-saving-historical-records-umkc

In preparing for the program, it occurred to THIS former Capitol scribe that the person who holds the highest elective office in state government does not have one of the privileges that people in other walks of life have when they get into trouble.  We don’t know how having that privilege would change the way events are developing, but the idea of instituting it might bear some thought.

In private business as well as in state and local government, a person suspected of breaking the law or of violating company standards can be suspended with or without pay until legal proceedings determine if that person is guilty.  If they are, the suspension becomes termination.  If they are found NOT guilty they can expect to be made whole by their employer.

But—as far as we know—the legislature can’t suspend a governor until the courts have made their determinations.  Impeachment during that period is not suspension. It’s flat-out removal.  And if the governor is found NOT guilty, he or she has no expectation of being restored to their position.

When it comes to a governor, it’s an in-or-out matter.  And that’s a matter of concern for the governor and those in and out of the legislature as impeachment talk continues.  As we write this, we have not heard how the signature-gathering on the petition for a special session to consider impeachment is going. Three-fourths of the members of both houses have to sign the petition.  Pro-impeachment lawmakers have made their sentiments known, often loudly.  But the governor only needs twenty-six percent of the legislators to refuse to sign and the special session push fizzles.

If suspension were to become part of state law, the Lt. Governor would be the acting governor until the case is resolved.  If the governor is cleared, the Lt. Governor goes back to his or her smaller office and the governor returns to the big oval room.

Would such a system be less unpleasant than what we’re watching now?  Probably depends on the governor/legislature relationship.  Should the legislature have the power to, in effect, fire the governor before a legal determination is made in the governor’s legal cases?  It has it now.   But is it right?  Isn’t there or can’t there be some structure that gives the governor the same privilege lesser citizens have when they become targets of suspicion?

We’re just asking.

The Process

This is a time of strong opinions, strong statements, and strong actions.  In such times it is important to recognize there is The Process.

The Process often is ugly.  The Process often is painful. The Process often seems to take longer than it should.

But The Process is what assures us that there is order.   And without order there is no justice.

This is one of those times when The Process emerges from its normal daily work to become a prominent factor in our state political system.

This observer has seen two Speakers of the House and one Attorney General sent to prison. He has seen a Secretary of State impeached and removed from office. He has seen a State Treasurer exonerated after being charged with profiting from state funds. He has covered criminal proceedings against at least seventeen members of the House and three members of the Senate that resulted in convictions or guilty pleas to misdemeanors and to felonies.

In forty years of front line reporting in state government, he watched 1,032 people serve in the General Assembly, interviewed or covered (in one form or another) eleven governors, nine lieutenant governors, eleven Secretaries of State, eleven state auditors, ten state treasurers, and eight attorneys general.  Now he is watching something new and wondering how, in the end, this circumstance will fit into the list of those mentioned in the earlier paragraph.

For the first time in state history a sitting governor faces both criminal proceedings and the potential for removal efforts.  People from both sides are calling for him to resign.

The Process has become his greatest protection as well as his greatest threat.  It diminishes emotion.  It provides a structure for a balanced determination of justice.  It is not perfect but The Process gives balance in times of fierce attacks and equally fierce denials.

A special House committee has presented its first report of the legitimacy of allegations against the governor, who has called its work a “witch hunt.”   The committee was led by an honorable chairman, wisely picked by a Speaker who has chosen to respect The Process despite the difficulties the committee’s hearings might cause for several people whose lives have been altered by events. The committee has not judged the governor but it has concluded the key witness against him is credible.

The governor says the report was drafted without any testimony in his own defense. The committee reports the governor refused invitations to testify.  The governor says he will testify after his criminal trial ends and that is within his rights. Simply put, the stakes are higher in his criminal trial than they are in the committee’s study.  Potential loss of office is serious but not nearly as serious as a potential conviction and possible loss of freedom in the criminal case.  The governor’s decision is not really that hard to make under those circumstances. It is a legitimate part of The Process.

While the committee’s first report seems to be devastating news for the governor, it also is valuable news to the governor because it provides him and his defenders with a strong preview of the kind of testimony they will have to attack in the criminal proceeding next month.  It also provides them with a challenge.  They must determine how to undermine the credibility of that testimony without antagonizing a jury.  The governor says he is confident a jury of his peers will exonerate him.  His lawyers gain through this report an understanding of a fine line they will have to walk in disputing the validity of the testimony without making the witness so sympathetic in the eyes of the jury that the jury of peers tilts the wrong way for their client.

It’s The Process at work.

The committee report strengthens and increases the resolve of those who demand the governor resign. But it also strengthens his position that he should stay because a report is not a jury nor are those demanding his resignation jurors.  As long as The Process considers a person innocent until proven guilty within The System, he is innocent.

He still retains the powers of governor although his ability to govern remains badly weakened. But if he resigns the office he was elected to hold and then is found not guilty of criminal charges, he has no way of returning to the office in which the voters chose him to serve.

The Speaker and the President Pro Tem have said the legislature will start its process of convening a special session to consider penalties for the behavior described by the committee’s witness.  Voters in 1988 approved a constitutional amendment letting the legislature convene itself in special session for as many as thirty days without a call of the governor.  Article III, Section 20(b) says the session can be called by three-fourths of the members of the House and three-fourths of the members of the Senate, a big requirement but a possibility given the committee report and the existing poor relations between the governor and the legislature.

The House does not have the power to remove the governor.  It can only file charges.   The Senate, in the case of a sitting governor, does not have the power of removal either.  Its authority rests in appointing seven “eminent jurists” to conduct a legal proceeding.  Again, The Process brings the matter into The System where justice is determined, we should all hope, in a non-partisan and less emotional setting. Only those jurists can determine if he should forfeit his office.

This also is a time for firm hands on the reins in the legislature.  While the committee continues investigating the governor—-and there is no indication when it might drop the other shoe—the legislature still has about five weeks to focus on its lawmaking responsibilities.  The legislature must provide a budget that will keep government services going to the people who need them.  It also must determine the fates of several issues that will affect the hourly lives of Missouri citizens. That is its responsibility until 6 p.m., May 18.

It is not precluded, with three-fourths of the members agreeing, during that time from setting a date for the House to begin impeachment proceedings in a special session.  It might choose—out of respect for The Process—to set dates that do not conflict with the governor’s right as a citizen to obtain a fair trial. That’s The System, maintaining order in the legislative process.

The governor, as is his prerogative, is entitled to his office until he is removed or disqualified from holding it.  While retaining his position is not popular with many people, it is his prerogative.

The Process is in place and it is moving.   It is protecting the governor while at the same time threatening him, as it would do with you and me if we were facing serious accusations.  The result might not be what you or I would prefer.  But The Process is, in the end, our best hope for justice for you and me.

And for the governor.

(image credit: brainyquote)

The P and the Q

When our state lawmakers get together during the next five weeks or so to play Scrabble, they can use four words containing the letters P and Q.  The number increases to sixty-one by the time they get to six-letter words then declines to only twenty-one for words with fifteen letters, according to an internet dictionary of words for Scrabble players.

But it’s not words that might be used as the pressure grows toward the end of the session, it’s the letters that might be heard.

The parliamentary technique of moving the Previous Question is used to cut off debate, sometimes long and tedious debate that is only holding up a vote on a bill, or when time is short toward the end of a session and leadership or sponsors rush to get something done in the last days.

Senator Rob Schaaf of St. Joseph is in the final weeks of his time in the Missouri Senate.  Because people throughout the state adopted term limits two decades-plus ago, the people in his district are denied the opportunity to vote for him ever again as their senator.  He will leave with a peculiar distinction when it comes to the previous question.

In our long experience covering the Senate, he is the only person who, in effect, PQ’d himself.

Here’s how it happened:

It was on January 28, 2013, early in the legislative session when the Senate was taking a final vote on its rules. In the previous session, in 2012, Cape Girardeau Senator Jason Crowell stopped debate on a bill when he refused to make a closing statement and sat down, thus yielding the floor for other actions but still controlling the bill.  The action left the bill in limbo.

Senate leadership at the start of the 2013 session decided to change a rule to stop such actions.  Pro Tem Tom Dempsey proposed the rule. Senator Schaaf, in challenging it, suggested amending the proposal to christen it the “Crowell rule.”  He then offered a substitute amendment to make the rule known as the “Jason Crowell rule,” a procedural move intended to block any one else from offering an amendment to his original proposal. When he was asked if he wanted to close on his amendment, Schaaf said, “No,” and sat down.

That’s when Senator Kurt Schaefer of Columbia cited another Senate Rule (number 76 for those who like to keep score) that read in part, “In order to maintain the recognition of the chair, the senator must be engaged in debate or in discourse.”  Dempsey ruled that Schaaf’s action constituted a failure to engage in debate or discourse, thus bringing the issue to an immediate vote, the equivalent of a previous question motion that debate or discourse be ended and the issue be decided immediately. Schaaf’s amendments lost. The rule proposed by Dempsey was adopted and the Crowell Strategy became in-valid in the Senate.

Senator Schaaf had, in effect, PQ’d himself.

The incident doesn’t show up on the list the press corps keeps of the times the previous question has been used in the Senate, where it is used less frequently than in the House because Schaaf’s action was an unintentional PQ and based on a ruling by Dempsey using another rule. It is not described in the official journal as a PQ issue. It was, after all, an unofficial PQ, self-inflicted.

But it is worthy of being recorded in legislative history somewhere.  Might as well be here as anywhere.

Keeping their own money

There’s nothing wrong, really, with letting taxpayers keep more of their money.  And there’s something to the idea that letting taxpayers spend more of their own money generates a better economy.

Let’s open a discussion on this topic because, as in much of government, things are seldom as simple as they seem. The question today focuses on WHEN many taxpayers can spend more of their own money to fuel a growing economy and whether some steps seem to run counter to that goal.

There’s an overlooked segment of the economy that seems to this amateur economist  disadvantaged by the way the idea is carried out.  We mention them, not because we particularly disagree that more tax reductions are needed but because some people might become even more disadvantaged when the state lets them keep more of their own money.. We invite your participation in this discussion (there should be a box at the bottom of this entry for your comments).

We’ll be mixing some apples, oranges, pears, and peaches in our comparisons but we’ll excuse ourselves to suggest a point.

Here’s one of many places to start the discussion.

Any discussion of the size of government has to involve what government’s role should be.  Our United States Constitution says it is “to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity,” general wording that leaves plenty of room for definition, discussion, and disagreement—and there HAS been plenty of all of that in the 230 years or so since those words were written.

Let’s narrow our focus to “promote the general welfare.”  Most of us at this meeting probably would agree that one of the major factors in achieving this goal is education.  Thomas Jefferson told Littleton Walter Tazewell in 1805 that “every member of society” should be able “to read, to judge, and to vote understandingly on what is passing.”  From such sentiments by Jefferson and others emerged the concept of an education system open to everybody, financially underwritten by everybody for the common good.

Our Missouri Constitution requires a certain minimum percentage of state tax collections to be set aside for elementary and secondary education.  However, there is no requirement for support of higher education and the state’s commitment to higher-ed has dwindled markedly.

A 2015 report by the State Higher Education Executive Officers Association found that since the 2008 recession, state and local funding per fulltime college student had declined almost 28 percent at a time when enrollment had increased by 20 percent.  Missouri, at that time, was found to be twenty percent below the national average in per-student funding.  State funding for higher education has taken some hits since then as anticipated tax collections have fallen below anticipated levels because of withholdings and vetoes to keep our state budget balanced.

Those actions do not necessarily mean that state government has become anti-higher education. The higher education budget is a huge pot of money and when it is necessary to make significant general funding reductions, those responsible for balancing the budget look at the biggest pots of money to make the biggest impact.  They can’t, for example, cut spending by $200-million by making big cuts in agencies with total budgets of $20-million.

So higher education becomes one of the usual targets.

And that means the institutions have to charge students more for their educations, bringing us to the nub of our observation. The Federal Reserve System says student debt has become the second largest kind of debt in the country.  The Institute for College Access & Success thinks fifty-seven percent of Missouri college graduates in 2016 left school with an average student debt of $27,532.   The same organization said the average debt of new college graduates increased at double the inflation rate between 2004-2014.

We’ve seen figures from the University of Missouri-Columbia saying forty-nine percent of incoming students take out loans averaging $7,059 per student to get through their freshman year.  The figure includes both private and federally-backed loans. And the loan amounts pile up on each other each year until graduation or drop-out.

There are those who wonder if the return on investment makes that student debt worthwhile.  Some of those students just walk away from paying off the debt. Of the 5,465 UMC students who began paying off their college debts after graduating in 2013, 4.2% had defaulted on their loans just three years later.  That’s lower than the national average but not something to be especially proud of.

Since we’re talking about education, we looked at the average salary for Missouri teachers.  Indeed.com put out an updated list on January 3.  The state requires school districts to pay salaries of at least $25,000.  The average elementary teacher salary in this survey was $36,847 which the survey said was twenty percent below the national average.

If the average elementary teacher salary is a little shy of $37,000 (before taxes and retirement withholdings) and the average college student debt is $27,532, it seems pretty clear that the economic impact of these teachers is severely reduced. They cannot fully contribute to the economy because their disposable income is reduced for many years by debt payments.

A Missouri State Teachers Association study for 2015-16 says the state requires districts to pay teachers with a master’s degree and ten years of experience at least $33,0001.  The average maximum salary in this study for a teacher with a master’s plus ten years’ experience was $48, 873.

We think we have the figures straight. Feel free to correct us if we have confused ourselves.  But if we were a teacher with a $27,000 student debt we’d have to seriously consider whether we want to borrow even more money to get an advanced degree that would increase our average salary only $11,000 with ten years experience—-at a time when we also might be starting a family that someday will want to go to college.

Or should we give up on a profession we might love (and you better love, really love, being a teacher to walk into a classroom of twenty children from all economic and social conditions every morning and try to teach them “to read, to judge, and to vote understandingly on what is passing.”) and go sell insurance or real estate or something with much less stress but much better benefits?

We’ve drifted away from our point. But here it is: Teachers—and other college graduates who come into the real world saddled with a lot of college debts—cannot be a significant part of economic growth as long as significant parts of their incomes pay off the debts they incurred because tax reductions have led to less broad public support for “the general welfare” of the state.  “Their own money” cannot be spent in a consumer-driven economy because it is spent to pay for the higher education that is increasingly needed in our changing world but is suffering from declining public financial support caused to a great degree by a desire to let Missourians keep more of their own money.

Irony is an incongruity between what result is expected and what the actual result is. This situation seems to fit that definition.

We’ve seen a news story that some of our lawmakers are studying college affordability.  Their job is not an easy one, especially when it is politically popular to limit resources that might alleviate the problem they want to address.  But it’s good that they are looking into these issues including the degree to which new efforts to let people keep their own money are to a significant degree counterproductive for thousands of others.

We wish them well in their difficult task.