Lawmakers, state and federal, sometimes find themselves in the position of voting for something they don’t like to get something they want. The reverse also is true—they vote against something they like to keep something they dislike from becoming law.

At campaign time, opponents usually don’t discuss these subtleties in our political system when they criticize the incumbent for voting against an issue popular or unpopular with the public.

These dual-personality bills sometimes are passed anyway.  Then it becomes a problem for governors and for presidents.

The problem could be avoided if the legislative body did not try to combine two or more (somewhat) disparate issues into one bill.

Governor Parson had one of those bills that he vetoed in the last flurry of bill signings from the 2023 session. In this case, however, he disagreed with both sections of the bill. For whatever good it does, we—as appeals court judges sometimes write—“agree in part and disagree in part.”

Had we been present in the discussion (and it is easy to be a second-guesser from our lofty perch), we would have wondered if at least some of his reasons for the veto would be different if he were still the Polk County Sheriff.

One of the sections in the bill to which Governor Parson objected expanded the number of people eligible for state restitution if their convictions of crimes were overturned by a court proceeding and the prosecutor decided not to refile the charge.

Present law allows the state to pay someone $36,500 for each year that person was wrongly imprisoned if DNA evidence proves they are innocent.  The bill that the governor vetoed upped that figure to $65,000 and includes people set free by a “conviction review process” that was established by law two years ago.

It is the new, second, category of prisoner releases that troubles Governor Parson—and the 75% increase in restitution. The original figure, an amount based on $100 a day for each day of wrongful confinement, was enacted in 2006.  The new amount would be about $178 a day.

But here’s the meat of his objection, from his veto message to the legislature:

“With very few exceptions, criminal cases are tried by local governments (counties or municipalities).  The underlying offense, elected prosecutor, elected or retained judge, and community-drawn jury all come from the local jurisdiction and not the state as a whole. However, the burden of paying restitution under these provisions falls on all Missouri taxpayers…Missourians from every part of the state should not have to foot the bill for a local decision. Local governments should bear the financial cost of their own actions.”

Had I been in the discussion, I might have piped up with something such as:

“I agree that our justice system is administered by local people in local courtrooms.  But the offender was charged with violating a STATE law.  As I recall from years of reading court records at the local courthouse, the charges often—always?—end by saying the offense occurred “against the peace and dignity of the STATE.”

“The trial was held in a circuit court, which is a division of the STATE court system. The prosecutor, although locally-elected, is prosecuting the STATE law.  The jury, although made up of local citizens, is part of the STATE judicial process that determines guilty or not-guilty verdicts.

“The accused probably was held in a local jail but the STATE compensates the local jurisdiction for the costs of incarceration—-although local officials have complained the compensation isn’t close to adequate.”

“Clearly this is a state issue because everybody but the accused is acting on behalf of the STATE.”

“If the compensation, as you argue, should be made at the local level, who should be sued to gain restitution?  If such a reversal had happened when you were Polk County Sheriff, should YOU pay it—especially if you made the original arrest? Should the twelve members of the jury be held responsible for one-twelfth of the annual amount because they acted responsibly although incorrectly?   How much responsibility should fall on the shoulders of the judge who sent this ultimately-innocent person to jail for so many years?  Should Polk County have had some liability because its county prosecutor and its county sheriff were key figures in this process?

“And suppose this trial had been moved to another county on a change of venue. How much does that county have to pitch in?

“Polk County has about 33,000 residents.  Could a court order each resident to contribute two dollars per capita times the number of years this person was improperly imprisoned? Would that be a problem in a county with a per capita income of less than $25,000 a year?”

“Do you think you would get elected to another term as sheriff if you were the one who arrested this person to begin with?”

Well—I wasn’t part of the discussion and as I said, it’s easy to second-guess a decision such as this from a distance and without hearing the other voices. And it’s always a shame when so many good things combined into a bill are knocked down because the bill contains one problematic section that a governor thinks is poorly-written.

The legislature will have a chance to override the veto when it meets in about 50 days or so.  Or it can come back about six months from now and try again, fine-tuning the language and making a better argument for financial justice for someone from whom the STATE took away the most precious gift all of us are given—time.