Suspension (a continuation of last week’s discussion)

Last week’s entry about whether a governor facing a criminal charge and/or impeachment could be suspended with or without pay until his or her criminal situation cleared up brought a response from longtime colleague Bob Watson, who has had his nose deeper in the statute books and the Missouri Constitution than your faithful scribe has had his.

Bob thinks we already have what was discussed in that entry, pointing to Section 106.050 of the statutes, reading, “If any officer shall be impeached, he is hereby suspended from exercising his office, after he shall be notified thereof, until his acquittal.”

Bob also recalls that when the Attorney General tried to oust Secretary of State Judi Moriarty after her impeachment, the Missouri Supreme Court suspended her with pay until her impeachment trial ended. The ruling said the only allowable means of removal of a statewide elected official is through the impeachment process and the legislature could not legally enact laws automatically removing any elected executive official.

And three responses to last week’s entry (posted with the entry) from Bill Thompson offered similar clarifications.  We thank Bob and Bill for their assistance.

Our entry last week spoke to suspension before impeachment, however.  But suspension does involve removal from the office and it seems Bob is correct that a suspension before impeachment wouldn’t work.  It seems, therefore, that our point last week that a governor is, indeed, not like other workers who can be suspended upon filing of criminal charges. In his case, impeachment charges have to be filed, too.  Or at least as we now understand it.

We had overlooked one possibility covered by Article IV, section 11B of the State Constitution, which sets up a Disability Board made up of the lieutenant governor, secretary of state, the auditor, treasurer, attorney general, the president pro tem, the speaker of the house, and the majority floor leaders of the two chambers.  That board has the power to declare a governor unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, upon which finding the gubernatorial succession protocol kicks in.

That only time we know of that such a board met and took action was in the hours immediately after Governor Carnahan’s plane crash, before confirmation of his death.  The board met and cleared the way for Lt. Governor Roger Wilson to become acting governor until there was that confirmation, at which point he was sworn in as the governor.

While some have questioned the governor’s ability to govern under present circumstances, he has been making the point that he can “discharge the powers and duties of his office,” by making appointments and making public appearances and speaking as the elected chief executive of the state.

The discussion highlights the uniqueness in Missouri history of today’s situation, however.  However it turns out will be an important guide should Missourians ever face something like this again.

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In a related note, we see that Rachael Herndon Dunn, the editor of the Missouri Times newspaper (which is different from the Missouri Times quarterly newsletter of the State Historical Society of Missouri and the earlier Missouri Times newspaper of the 1970s) says in the latest edition of the newspaper’s magazine that the three people she would pick, if she could pick three people to join her for dinner, would be Bob Griffin, Bill Webster, and Eric Greitens.

Interesting.  But what could they possibly have in common to discuss?

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.

Succession



What happens when the office of Missouri Governor becomes vacant?   That’s an important question but a more complicated one is what happens when a vacancy in the office of governor leads to the vacancy in another office? We’ve been asked about this in recent days. And, as we emphasized last week, we do not want to anticipate what might happen in this difficult time for so many people, but people have asked. So we will explore that a little bit.

Before we plunge into today’s topic, we want to offer a clarification to our last column about impeachment. The Missouri Supreme Court does indeed handle impeachment trials of state officials EXCEPT in the cases of Supreme Court members and Governors. In those instances, the trial is conducted by “seven eminent jurists” elected by the Missouri Senate. We thank our longtime friend King Marc of Arcania, from whom we have not heard for too long. Arcania is a small kingdom within the Missouri Capitol. Now, on with today’s exploration.

Some recall that we offered some thoughts several years ago in the wake of the death of Governor Carnahan and the ascension of Lieutenant Governor Roger Wilson to the governorship.  That’s provided for in the Missouri Constitution.  After that——

Well, it appears to his non-lawyer that all of the cards are wild.

Blame Bill Phelps.

Back in 1972, State Representative William C. Phelps of Kansas City was elected Lieutenant Governor under the campaign promise that he would make the office a “full-time” job.  Full-Time Phelps, he was called.   Until then, the light governor’s main job was to preside over the Senate—a job the Missouri Supreme Court later limited—and to step in when the governor died or was incapacitated.

Well, Phelps created some new responsibilities for that office and the legislature over time assigned more duties to actually make it a full-time post.  So now we have an office that has obligations.  And if the person in that office has to move up to the big room on the second floor, what happens to those obligations?

Simply put:  They remain the obligations of an office that has no one to fulfill them.

The gubernatorial succession part of our Missouri Constitution says the President Pro-Tem of the Senate becomes the Governor if the Governor and the Lieutenant Governor die or are incapacitated.  It does NOT say the Pro-Tem moves up to Lieutenant Governor if that office becomes vacant.  Nor does it say the Pro-Tem assumes the responsibilities of that office.  It might be illegal anyway because that would mean that person would have one foot in the Executive Branch and the other foot in the Legislative Branch.  The Pro-Tem could not resign from the Senate and move into the Lieutenant Governor’s office because there is nothing in the Constitution that allows that. Besides, if that person resigned to take the office, he or she couldn’t take the office because their resignation would take them out of the line of succession.

The Missouri Constitution is silent on how the obligations added to the office since the Constitution was written more than sixty years ago are met when the office becomes vacant.

The office did go vacant for a short time in 2000 until Governor Roger Wilson appointed Lieutenant Governor-elect Joe Maxwell after the November election to hold the job until his regular term began in January, 2001.   The question was raised then, however, whether that appointment was legal.  The Missouri Constitution appears not to give the Governor the power to appoint someone who could become his successor should the Governor resign or become incapacitated. Maxwell has always maintained that legal experts consulted at the time felt the appointment was legal.

The legislature tried to solve that problem in 2013 but Governor Nixon vetoed it.

The bill would have left the office vacant until the next election.  It said that a staff member of the departing Lieutenant Governor would be picked to handle the ministerial duties of the office.  The Senate President pro tem would handle the Lieutenant Governor’s duties in briefly presiding over the Senate.  Nixon called that situation “confusing and untenable.”  He did not want the constitutional duties of the office turned over to a “vaguely defined staff member.”  He also noted the bill called for a general election for the office but did not mention a primary election.  That was important, he argued, because it meant the political parties would select the contenders for the office, not the people.

Nixon did not like the bill’s lack of definition of “ministerial duties” nor its failure to formally create a process to appoint the person to do those jobs.  His veto message questioned the propriety of having an unelected staff member replacing a statewide elected official, particularly if that position became vacant because of impeachment or criminal activity involving the office.

Those who follow Missouri politics will recall that the issue arose when Lieutenant Governor Peter Kinder was thinking about trying to replace Congresswoman Jo Ann Emerson, who had resigned to take a lobbyist job.  When Kinder did not win his party’s nomination, the issue faded away. At the time, Nixon—a Democrat—maintained he could appoint a new Lieutenant Governor.  The Republican-led legislature disagreed.

The issue now has arisen three times in less than twenty years.

There have been several times in Missouri’s history when the office stayed vacant until a new Lieutenant Governor could be elected. Eight times in the first seventy years of statehood the office remained vacant. The longest time was about forty-one months. That was the first time. Lieutenant Governor Benjamin Reeves resigned to join the party surveying the still-new Santa Fe Trail. When Governor Frederick Bates died in the summer of 1825, Senate President Pro Tem Abraham Williams, a one-legged shoemaker from Columbia, became the Governor. He was confronted by the question of whether the state could afford an election to pick a new governor or whether he should remain. He chose to have an election in which John Miller was elected to finish the Bates term and then was elected to a full term of his own. He remained the longest-serving Missouri Governor (in terms of consecutive years) until Warren Hearnes became the first governor elected to a second consecutive four-year term in 1969. Williams then returned to his Pro Tem role in the Senate.

There was no Lieutenant Governor after Lilburn Boggs succeeded Daniel Dunklin, who resigned to become United States Surveyor General for Illinois, Missouri, and Arkansas (he was responsible for the Missouri-Arkansas state line). M. M. Marmaduke succeeded Thomas Reynolds, who committed suicide in 1844 and the number two office remained vacant. Lieutenant Governor Wilson Brown died in office in August of 1855 and the office remained vacant until January, 1857. The office was vacant for eight months when Hancock Lee Jackson succeeded Trusten Polk after Polk was elected by the legislature to the U. S. Senate early in 1857. There was no Lieutenant Governor when Willard Hall replaced Hamilton Gamble, who died in office in 1864. The office was vacant for about eight months after Lieutenant Governor Joseph Gravely died in office in April, 1872. When Governor John Marmaduke died in office at the end of 1887, Albert Morehouse moved up to Governor and the office was not filled again until January, 1889.

Something interesting happened, however, in 1903 when Lieutenant Governor John Lee quit after admitting he had carried bribe money from the Royal Baking Power Trust to four Senators, buying their votes on a bill establishing the ingredients for baking Powder that shut down Missouri manufacturers and favored the Royal powder. Remember that one of the jobs of the Lieutenant Governor was to serve as President of the Senate. One contemporary newspaper account we have seen notes that Lee’s departure left the Senate without a presiding officer. Senators elected Pro Tem Thomas Rubey as the temporary presiding officer of the senate, i.e., the Senate President. With that designation, says the account, Rubey thus “fell heir” to the Lieutenant Governorship. Rubey is the only Pro Tem listed as a Lieutenant Governor.

The office was vacant for a few days when Frank Gaines died on December 30, 1944, a few days short of completing his third term in the office (which many years later made Peter Kinder the only person in Missouri history to COMPLETE three terms in the office. Walter Davis, who was elected to succeed Gaines, took office on January 8, 1945.

When Edward V. Long resigned to replace Senator Thomas Hennings, who died in the fall of 1960, Governor Blair did not appoint anyone to finish the term. Hillary Bush was elected a few weeks later and was sworn in in 1961.

Thomas Eagleton resigned just before Christmas, 1968 after having been elected to replace the retiring Stuart Symington. Symington resigned his Senate seat early so Eagleton could be sworn in a few days early, giving him some seniority over those who were not sworn in as senators until January. Governor Hearnes appointed William S. Morris to fill the rest of the Eagleton term until Morris could be sworn in for his own term as Lieutenant Governor.  That infuriated Pro Tem Earl Blackwell, a strong opponent of Hearnes (reportedly he was upset that Hearnes supported Morris instead of him in the campaign for the number two job), who threatened to throw Morris out of the chamber if he came in to preside.  Blackwell maintained the appointment was illegal. Morris didn’t darken the Senate’s doors until after he’d been sworn in for the full term.

The role of the Lieutenant Governor as the President of the Senate became so insignificant that in the 1980s, outgoing Pro Tem John Scott and incoming Pro Tem Jim Mathewson ousted the Senate President/Lieutenant Governor from the office created for that person and moved incoming Lieutenant Governor Mel Carnahan into some renovated committee rooms on a lower floor. What would have been Carnahan’s office became the Pro Tem’s office. When Kinder was Lieutenant Governor, he and the head of the Office Administration arranged for the Lieutenant Governor and the State Auditor to switch office rooms. The fulltime Lieutenant Governor’s office staff had expanded enough that it needed the extra space and most of the employees of the auditor by then worked in another state office building.

What’s the solution?  The legislature can try again to write a law.  Or a constitutional amendment that would fill the apparent void in the constitution.

When we wrote about this on the old Missourinet Blog several years ago, we suggested that the new governor appoint someone to serve in the office and carry out the duties of it, someone who would willingly become the target of a test lawsuit that could provide some clarity to what needs to be done to correct the problem—which means the lawyers on both sides would have to carefully word the lawsuit to achieve from the courts the desired result.  We suggested the person for the job be someone with no pretentions about using it for future political gain, perhaps someone with no particular party loyalty so neither party could make claims that the other was trying to take advantage of something.  The person would be content to be a footnote in Missouri history, a sacrificial lamb I think we called it, someone appointed to hold the office and see that its duties were carried out until such time as the courts and subsequent elections eliminated the problem.  A lot of people can gavel the Senate into session each day, call for the chaplain to pray, and run down the order of business before turning the gavel over to a senator to preside—which is what usually happens.

Perhaps the procedure used in the wake of Mel Carnahan’s death and posthumous election could provide a guideline for a clarifying law or amendment—allowing the governor to appoint a Lieutenant Governor to serve until the next general election when someone would be elected to complete the remainder of the term. As you might recall, Jean Carnahan served for two years in her husband’s place but lost a bid to serve he remaining four years.

Whatever. The answer is out there somewhere.

If only Bill Phelps had not decided to make the office a fulltime job…..

 

 

 

Removal

It’s important to not get ahead of ourselves at a difficult time like this.  But some people who know that we dabble in Missouri history have asked if a Missouri governor has ever been impeached and removed from office.

The answer on impeachment is “no.” The answer to removal is “yes.” Herewith, we tell the tale.

Understand that impeachment is not the same as removal.  Impeachment is the filing of charges against an office holder by the legislature.  The removal trial is conducted by the Missouri Supreme Court.  In the 1930s, under a different State Constitution, the House impeached State Treasurer Larry Brunk.  At that time the trial was handled by the Missouri Senate, of which Brunk was a former member.  Two-thirds of the senators had to vote to remove him.  The Senate failed to get that two-thirds with some people saying it just could not remove a former member from a statewide office.  True or not, Brunk completed his term.

That circumstance led to a change in procedure when a new constitution was adopted in 1945.  It leaves impeachment to the House but the trial will be conducted by the Missouri Supreme Court.  The process has been used only once, in 1994-1995, when Secretary of State Judi Moriarty was removed from office.  The Supreme Court had to have a special witness box built for that occasion because the Supreme Court hears arguments only from attorneys. There was no testimony until this case came along.

The only governor removed from office in Missouri was Claiborne Fox Jackson in 1861. Jackson lied during his campaign by pretending to be against secession when actually he was plotting to take Missouri South. When he was sworn in, he immediately asserted that Missouri’s lot was tied to the fate of the seceding states.  The legislature refused to vote on secession and instead called for a special convention to be convened to determine the proper course of action. About six weeks after Jackson took office, the convention of ninety-nine men met to chart a course for the state. Jackson had been stunned when he saw no avowed secessionists were in that group, which voted strongly to stay in the Union.  He then declared Missouri would be an “armed neutral” if a civil war broke out.

When President Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand troops to defend the Union after the attack on Fort Sumter, Jackson replied, “Your resolution, in my judgment, is illegal, unconstitutional, and revolutionary in its object, inhuman, and diabolical and cannot be complied with. Not one man will the State of Missouri furnish to carry on any unholy crusade.”

By now, Jackson was clandestinely plotting with Jefferson Davis to move Missouri into the Confederacy. His big target was the St. Louis federal arsenal. He went so far as to ask Davis to send some cannons that could be used to seize it and ship its weapons to the Confederacy. But federal troops moved first.

Then-Captain, later General, Nathaniel Lyon, who was in charge of the arsenal, smelled out the deal and rounded up the troops Jackson was planning to use for the attack.  He also rejected Jackson’s efforts to keep federal forces out of Missouri, remarking that he would see every man, woman, and child in the state dead before he would let Jackson and friends cut a deal that would prohibit federal troops from entering the state. Lyon gave Jackson and his military aide, Sterling Price, an hour to get out of town.

In a late-night session at the Capitol, Jackson asked legislators to follow him to Boonville where Missouri volunteers were going to take a stand against the Union Army.   A couple of days later, Lyon and the Union Army took Jefferson City, and stabilized the situation by leaving a small unit of troops in charge of the town while Lyon got back on the boat and led his men to Boonville for Missouri’s first out-and-out-battle of the Civil War.  Jackson and Price were soundly whipped and headed south to the safety of Arkansas and a link-up with Confederate troops there.

A majority of the Convention of ninety-nine did not join Jackson and Price.  Although Jackson would maintain that he was running a government in exile, which soon declared it had seceded, he never had a quorum of the duly-elected legislature.

The Convention, back in Jefferson City, re-assembled in July and declared the office of governor to be vacant.  Former Missouri Supreme Court Judge Hamilton Gamble was installed as the Provisional Governor. Other statewide offices were declared vacant, too, and filled with loyal Unionists among whom was the famous artist George Caleb Bingham, who became Treasurer.

The legality of the convention’s actions is not above question.  But it was protected by a Union occupational force that wasn’t going to tolerate challenges to the convention’s authority.

We do not know specifically what Jackson swore to when he was sworn in as governor.  The 1820 Missouri Constitution, which was still in effect, does not contain any oath language for the governor or for the legislature.  Our present Constitution reiterates language from the 1875 Constitution: “I do solemnly swear, or affirm, that I will support the Constitution of the United States and of the state of Missouri, and faithfully perform the duties of my office, and that I will not knowingly receive, directly or indirectly, any money or other valuable thing for the performance or nonperformance of any act or duty pertaining to my office, other than the compensation allowed by law.”

That language only applies—in the Constitution—to members of the General Assembly. It is, however, the same language we have heard on a dozen occasions when governors have been inaugurated.  Pretty clearly, Jackson had violated his oath of office to “support the Constitution of the United States and the State of Missouri,” and thus was subject to actions removing him from office.  The legal standing of the Convention of 99 to do so has been argued, but wartime expedience prevailed.

Jackson died in 1862 and his elected Lieutenant Governor, Thomas C. Reynolds, became the leader of the self-proclaimed government in exile—which wound up headquartered in Marshall, Texas.  He was with Price on the 1864 last-gasp attempt to regain Missouri for the South, hoping that Price’s army could seize Jefferson City and he could be sworn in as the legitimate governor, probably swearing to support the Confederate Constitution. But Price decided not to attack the capital city after surrounding it—he’d already had one catastrophic fight at Pilot Knob—and he moved on.  Reynolds was irate but no amount of screaming and cursing could change the course of Price and his increasingly bedraggled troops who went on to a three-day fight at Westport before scrambling back to Arkansas, badly mauled by the Union Army.

And that’s the story of the only time a Missouri Governor was ever removed from office.

The office of Governor of Missouri has not become officially vacant since Mel Carnahan’s plane crash in 2000.  What happened then raised some questions about gubernatorial succession that remain unanswered.  We’ll have another history lesson next week.

Maybe a little bigger government makes sense

But there are those who will say bigger government NEVER makes sense.  Don’t go off in a huff, though, if you’re one of them. Take a deep breath, let the blood pressure drop a notch or two, and consider the words of Governor Guy B. Park who told the legislature in his second (and last) biennial message on January 6, 1937:

When the boundaries of our counties were fixed by the Constitution of 1875 (editor’s note—that was the Constitution in effect in 1937), time and distance were the principal consideration. The boundaries were probably determined on the basis of how long it would take a resident to ride his horse from his home to the county seat, transact his business and get back in time to milk the cows.  As a matter of practical economy and common sense, it would be the better part of wisdom to materially increase the size, thereby reducing the number of counties. Should that be done, the local county government would be as close to the people in point of time as they were in 1875.  In order to accomplish this, an amendment to the Constitution would be necessary, and I recommend that you adopt a resolution submitting such an amendment to the people of the state.

Governors could make such suggestions in the days when the Constitution forbade them from seeking re-election.  And members of the legislature then, as now—particularly those from some of the counties likely to be affected—knew they would be greeted by pitchfork-carrying constituents if they went home after voting for such an idea.

Here we are, eighty-one years after Park’s speech and 157 years after Worth County became the last county created in our state, and we have twenty-five counties populated by fewer than ten-thousand people and six more who are just barely at ten-thousand.  That’s more than one-fourth of our counties, a lot of them in the sparsely-populated northern counties.  Seven counties have fewer than FIVE thousand residents. Worth County struggles to stay above two-thousand.

It’s been almost sixteen decades since Missouri honored some kind of hero or notable citizen or family member of an early settler by naming a county for them.   But we’ve had plenty of heroes since then, plenty of famous people who are better known than the people whose names adorn many of our counties.  Who was Dade after all?  Or Holt or Knox or Sullivan or Schuyler or, well, Worth?

Naturally, combining small counties or changing their names will generate a lot of hostility.  We’re a pretty territorial species.

But that doesn’t mean that Guy B. Park didn’t have a good point that has only gotten better.

(We wrote at some length about this more than two years ago when a longtime friend passed along a propose map of new counties.  If  you go back to Dec. 19, 2015, you’ll find that proposal along with some of the same musings in this column.  But maybe it is an idea worth bringing up more frequently than once every eighty-one years.)

Capitol credit

State Senate leader Ron Richard has had a goal for the State Capitol for a long time and he’s hoping his last year in the legislature is the year that goal is reached.  And it should be.

Richard loves the Capitol as the symbol of a state’s greatness and power, of its stability and beauty.  But he has watched as the Capitol has deteriorated during his almost sixteen-year career and how appropriations that have finally started providing some rehabilitation of the now century-old building are not nearly enough to get the job done.

He has seen the state struggle with meeting its budgetary responsibilities for education, health and mental health, social services—you name it.  And as the state has struggled to meet those responsibilities, the state’s greatest symbol has deteriorated.

Millions are being spent as a continuation of exterior restoration that has been underway for about three years.  Some critical problems in the basement have been attacked. But millions of dollars more are needed to do what needs to be done now and to meet the costs of ongoing expenses later.

Richard has been hoping to get a bill passed setting up a tax credit program that would encourage people and organizations to donate money to fix our Capitol.   He is the sponsor of one of two bills in the Missouri Senate addressing the problem.  While he could be putting the muscle of his position behind his own legislation he has decided to let Senator Dan Hegeman from the northwest Missouri community of Cosby carry the issue.  The bill already is out of committee and is ready for Senate debate. It started the week twenty-seventh on the debate list, a good position for early approval.

It’s Senate Bill 590 for those of you who keep score. It does two things.  It creates tax credits for people who donate to restoration and repair work at the Capitol complex, and it creates tax credits for those who want to contribute to restoration and repair work on other public buildings.

A lot of deep-pocket people and companies have representatives in the capitol hallways every day that Richard, Hegeman, and their colleagues on both side of the rotunda are meeting.  It would not be surprising if those hallway denizens carried word back to their employers that their workplace needs some help.  Some of the money raised can be used to increase general public awareness of the need for donations for which private citizen-donors would get credit on their state taxes.

Richard has several times shared this dream with your correspondent and it’s time the dream comes true.   Richard already has created a legacy as the only person in the almost-two century history of the state to serve as the leader of the House and the leader of the Senate.  But that accomplishment is more a legislative distinction.  Leaving behind a program that can raise money for the capitol’s upkeep is the more important thing.  It could be a legacy.

But times have changed a little since Ron Richard first established this goal.  Historic Tax Credits are not as popular as they once were.   The legislature established caps on those tax credits a few years ago—no more than an aggregate total of $140 million.  That cap drops to seventy-million dollars on July 1.  Local historic preservation organizations can point to buildings and districts in their communities that have benefitted from those tax credits.  Now, as the cap is cut in half, there could be two new causes trying to attract tax credit seekers.

Historic preservation tax credits aren’t very sexy.  Some lawmakers question whether they create enough new jobs to justify the reduction in state revenue that they produce.  Others with little interest in history might see little value in them to begin with.

But they ARE important.  They’re important for the towns where we live because they encourage us to think of how far we have come while making sites usable, even inhabitable.  They’re important for our capitol, a place intended to inspire those who visit and who serve there.  The fact that some who visit and who serve do not find the intended inspiration cannot be an excuse to let our capitol decline into a symbol of decisions not made, responsibilities not met, and needs not acknowledged.

Our capitol is better than that.  And the Richards dream and the Hegeman legislation is the best chance for our lawmakers to prove it so.   We hope they don’t miss the chance this year.

Are you smarter than a third grader?

We wrote this a year ago and put it in storage until we needed it.  We noted the other day that Representative Dean Dohrman has introduced a bill requiring people wanting to graduate from college to score at least seventy percent on a civics test before they can get their diplomas. He says he hopes the bill spurs greater civic education in our colleges.

That has led us to dig out this piece:

Suppose you had to take a test to be a Missouri voter.  More important, suppose those wanting to hold public office, particularly the six statewide offices and legislative positions, had to pass this test. Be honest, now, those of you who have taken oaths of public office—How many of you would be where you are now if you had to match this third-grade requirement (We, personally, would be a little nervous if we had to do this)?

And for those who voted to elect these folks, could you have voted if you had to prove competence to deal with these issues?  It’s kind of a lengthy examination.  Extra paper will be allowed.

Explain the major purposes of the Missouri Constitution. Explain and give examples of how laws are made and changed within the state.

Examine how individual rights are protected within our state. Explain how governments balance individual rights with common good to solve local community or state issues.

Explain how the State of Missouri relies on responsible citizen participation and draw implications for how people should participate.

Describe the character traits and civic attitudes of influential Missourians. Identify and describe the historical significance of the individuals from Missouri who have made contributions to our state and nation.

Explain how the National Anthem symbolizes our nation. Recognize and explain the significance of the Gateway Arch and the Great Seal of Missouri and other symbols of our state.

Analyze peaceful resolution of disputes by the courts, or other legitimate authorities in Missouri. Take part in a constructive process or method for resolving conflicts.

Describe how authoritative decisions are made, enforced and interpreted by the state government across historical time periods and/or in current events.

Identify and explain the functions of the three branches of government in Missouri.

Describe the importance of the Louisiana Purchase and the expedition of Lewis and Clark. Evaluate the impact of westward expansion on the Native Americans in Missouri. Discuss issues of Missouri statehood.

Describe the migration of Native Americans to Missouri prior to European settlement in the state. Describe the discovery, exploration and early settlement of Missouri by European immigrants. Describe the reasons African peoples were enslaved and brought to Missouri.

Examine cultural interactions and conflicts among Native Americans, European immigrants and enslaved and free African-Americans in Missouri. Examine the changing roles of Native Americans, Immigrants, African Americans, women and others in Missouri history.

Examine changing cultural interactions and conflicts among Missourians after the Civil War.

Discuss the causes and consequences of the Dred Scott decision on Missouri and the nation.

Explain Missouri’s role in the Civil War, including the concept of a border state. Describe the consequences of the Civil War in Missouri including on education, transportation, and communication.

Compare and contrast private and public goods and services. Define natural, capital and human resources. Define economy. Explain supply and demand.

Conduct a personal cost-benefit analysis.

Define taxes and explain how taxes are generated and used.

Explain factors, past and present, that influence changes in our state’s economy.

Read and construct historical and current maps.

Name and locate major cities, rivers, regions, and states which border Missouri. Describe and use absolute location using a grid system.

Identify and compare physical geographic characteristics of Missouri. Describe human geographic characteristics of Missouri.

Describe how people of Missouri are affected by, depend on, adapt to and change their physical environments in the past and in the present.

Describe how changes in communication and transportation technologies affect people’s lives.

Identify regions in Missouri. Compare regions in Missouri. Compare the cultural characteristics of regions in Missouri. Explain how geography affected important events in Missouri history.

Research stories and songs that reflect the cultural history of Missouri.Describe how people in Missouri preserve their cultural heritage.

Identify facts and opinions in social studies’ topics. Identify point of view in social studies’ topics.

Present social studies’ research to an audience using appropriate sources.

Whew!!

How can anybody be expected to know all this stuff?  Aren’t you glad you’re not an immigrant seeking American citizenship? Actually, immigrants don’t have to go through all of this stuff.

But Missouri third-graders do.

What you’ve just read are most of the Missouri Department of Education’s grade level expectations for third grade social studies students and their teachers.  How well students perform under these guidelines determines how competent they are considered to be and, by reflection, how competent their teachers are.

The impetus for this goes back more than two decades, to 1996, when the Show-Me Standards were developed to gauge student performance.  The Show-Me Standards were replaced by the Missouri Learning Standards that were required by the legislature to be written because the legislature didn’t like the Obama Administration’s Common Core approach.  The MLS are pretty close to Common Core, though. The state education department says the standards “are relevant to the real world and reflect the knowledge and skills students need to achieve their goals.”  The department also says they work best when administrators, teachers, students and parents share the goals.

This state is big on “local control,” so the standards do not require local districts to closely adhere to them. Districts can still make their own decisions about textbooks and teaching strategies and curriculum. But they’re measured on a standard gauge.

Your observer/historian was chatting with another observer/historian in a local coffee shop a few days ago about these standards and we agreed on a regrettable fact about them.

These are standards for third graders.  The teaching of Missouri history used to be done in the fourth grade but the department has moved that teaching back to grade three now.

Consider this, then (we admitted it kind of scares us): Missourians went to the polls in November, 2016 and elected people who are in office today who have had little education in Missouri history since third or fourth grade and whose teaching in Missouri government was limited to elementary school or maybe a poli sci class in college.  State law requires American history and United States government courses in high school (but no world history or government studies is required in this undeniable era of globalization).

But there is also this:  Both of us believe it takes extraordinary people to turn written goals into personal learning for fifteen to thirty children of incredibly diverse personal and cultural backgrounds every day in our classrooms.  Our lamenting the fact that a lot can happen in the decade from the time one is an eight-year old third grader and when one is an eighteen-year old first-time voter is in no way intended as a swipe at the public education system.  Neither of us could confidently assume that today’s decisions and situations would be better if the study of yesterday’s decisions and situations were fresher in the minds of those who voted and those who were elected. But it would help, we thought, if learning and voting were closer together.

How would we cure that problem?  When we considered all the things our school systems have to do and all of the problems students bring to school with them, we have to confess neither of us is close to an intelligent solution.

But wouldn’t it be nice if all of us, voters, candidates, office-holders alike, had to be as smart as third graders?