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.

Who is next?

Your fearful observer awoke one morning last week wondering when it will happen in Missouri.

It was the morning after the latest school shooting, this one in Florida, the seventh school shooting incident in the first forty-five days of the year.  As of the morning after the latest shooting, twenty people had been killed and thirty-four others had been wounded in those seven incidents.

Since the pace of school shootings began to pick up nationally in the 1980s there have been more than 350 school shootings in this country.

Three hundred.  And fifty.  Plus.

The escalation of shootings at schools is stunning.  Wikipedia has compiled a list of incidents at schools going back to Greencastle, Pennsylvania’s Enoch Brown School massacre in 1764, although that doesn’t quite fit today’s description of a school shooting because it was part of an Indian uprising against the British.  Only one of the ten people killed was shot.  The others were killed with “melee weapons,” as they are called.

The chart says there were twenty-eight incidents in the nineteenth century. The number jumped to 226 in the Twentieth Century (141 of them in the last three decades including the first mass shooting, 1999’s Littleton Colorado incident that killed fifteen—including the two suicidal shooters—and wounded twenty-one).

In the first seventeen years and two months of the Twenty-First Century there already have been 212 incidents that have made this list.

The Wikipedia list shows nine such shootings in Missouri since 1980. Eleven deaths, including four of the shooters.  Seven injuries.  Not all of the incidents are what we might think of as school shootings, namely students killing students.  The killing of three monks at Conception Abbey is on the list, for example.  Some involved only adults.  Missouri’s most recent incident was three years ago when a man was wounded in a school parking lot shooting, apparently by another adult.  The most recent student incident was in Joplin in 2006 when a student failed to kill a principal when his gun failed.

We hope we never have one of those horrific incidents in Missouri.  But we are sure we are not the only person in Missouri living in dread that it could happen here.

What is there to do about it? Opinions are strong on this issue and we will not wade into it here. Our focus will be on an important factor that can get lost in the discussion of school shootings and what should be done beyond the increasingly stale phrase “thoughts and prayers.”

The Associated Press the morning after the Florida incident described the suspect as, “An orphaned 19-year old with a troubled past and an AR-15 rifle…” and reported, “Students who knew him described him as a volatile teenager whose strange behavior had caused others to end friendships with him.”

Sooner or later someone is going to ask—some probably have by now—“Why didn’t somebody do something to head him off?” And some will wonder why he didn’t get help with mental health issues, sentiments frequently heard after incidents such as these.

Unanswerable questions.  A similar question might be, “How many school shooting incidents did NOT take place because our mental health people turned their clients in a better direction?”

Many years ago, one of my sometime-colleagues who sat next to me while we covered the legislature turned out to have murdered his wife a couple of years earlier. Who among us can honestly say that we can determine that the person next to us is so unstable that he or she is or can become a killer?

Can we, however, reduce the chances that something terrible might happen if we put more resources into a system that works to reduce those chances?

We wrote a column last year about a courageous and striking book we had read called, “No One Cares About Crazy People: The Chaos and Heartbreak of Mental Health in America.” I suggested that anyone in the legislature who deals with health and mental health funding should have this book on their must-read list.  With the General Assembly in session, now—particularly as we ask questions in the wake of the Florida school shooting—it is time to renew that suggestion, not just for those dealing with mental health funding but for all of our lawmakers.

Discussions are underway at the Capitol of further reductions in the state’s ability to finance vital programs and services at a time when the organization, Mental Health America, has published its 2017 report on the state of mental health in this country.  It ranks each state and territory on fifteen categories to arrive at a ranking that “indicates lower prevalence of mental illness and higher access to care.”

Missouri’s overall ranking was 31st.   Seven criteria used to rank services to adults placed Missouri 36th. We were 24th in the “youth” category.

The study found that we are 23rd in the prevalence of mental illness.   But when it comes to access to mental health care, we are only 36th.

If one of these unspeakable tragedies caused by someone of noticeable “strange behavior” happens in our state, as has happened in Florida, how will we think about that 36th place ranking?  And should this situation, this possibility, this circumstance be part of those discussions?

We pray that Missourians never have to confront those questions.  Or the people of any other state.

Let all of us pray.

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?

The roads of the people

This might or might not be any comfort to the special task force that has recommended fuel tax increases to raise money to maintain our roads and bridges, and build new ones where necessary.  But it might add some context to their work.

A century ago, Governor Elliott Major made his farewell address to the General Assembly.  In his first year in office, 1913, he had issued a proclamation declaring there would be two “Good Roads Days” in Missouri.  By the time he left office, fifteen other states had held annual “Good Roads Days.”  Major thought those special occasions had helped push Missouri to making “more progress in the construction and maintenance of good roads in the last two years than it has in any period of ten years preceding.”

Now, there’s a goal for today’s Missourians!

A century ago, Governor Major thought Missouri’s dirt roads were the most important ones in the system.  Today we might refer to those roads, years from the time when they were dirt, as our farm-to-market roads. But Major’s point about the importance of those roads has a lot of validity today.

In some ways, his message in 1917 is pretty close to the message we could hearing this year—with some modern language.  Here’s what he told the legislature:

The public highways of the country have ever marked by distinct epochs its civilization, and agricultural and commercial progress. It has marked it in the life of Missouri and of the American Republic. Until the highways stand abreast our broadest civilization, we will not be living up to our best privileges and the highest standard we can maintain in our civic and commercial life. We need to continue the construction, improvement and maintenance of our dirt and our hard surface roads. The dirt road, however, is the most important of all the roads. It constitutes ninety per cent of the road mileage of the State, and will continue so to do for many years to come. It is the real road of the people and the great highway of commerce.

We are in favor of the construction and maintenance of macadam, rock, concrete and other high-grade roads because every road that is constructed and passes through a section of country that produces something is an internal improvement of inestimable value. While we favor the construction of these splendid traffic ways, yet these are not the roads which mean most to the whole people. It is the dirt road, representing the first leg of the journey and over which moves the traffic of the State that serves us most; the road which enables the producer to bring more products to the railway stations and to the first markets of the country; the road which enables him to double the size of the haul and make the transit in less time, save wear and tear on harness and wagons and the lives of horses; the road that would bring additional hundreds of  thousands of acres under cultivation; the road that would increase the value per acre of all the lands through which it passes; the road that will save hundreds of thousands of dollars in shrinkage in the delivery of live stock; the road that will increase the attendance in the public schools of the country; the road that will lessen that part of the cost of transportation which begins at the producers’ door; the road every tendency of which is to improve community life and make it better morally, civilly and commercially.

There are bad dirt roads and good dirt roads. Bad dirt roads are a liability, good dirt roads are an asset. Missouri can not afford bad dirt roads, but it can afford good dirt roads. The dirt roads reach out into country life like tentacles and over them are moved the products representing the real commerce of the country, and their improvement will mean more to the State and Nation than any other one internal achievement which can be brought about. We can not make all the roads in Missouri high-class roads, but we can make all the bad dirt roads good dirt roads, and in the meantime construct as many high grade roads as possible. ,

Missouri has 63,370 miles of unimproved dirt roads and 54,264 miles of improved dirt roads. We have 3,420 miles of gravel roads, and 1,417 miles of macadam roads. ‘We have 570 miles of sand clay roads, and 700 miles of roads made from chats. We have about 400 miles of patent surface and other miscellaneous roads, making the grand total in the commonwealth over 124,000 miles. Last year there was placed upon these highways betterments valued at approximately $8,000,000. Under the new inter-county-seat drag law, we have about 10,000 miles of inter-county-seat roads, regularly dragged by the State, and upon which during the biennial period the State will have expended more than $225,000 for this purpose, while the people themselves have placed thereon special betterments in the sum of $1,500,000. ‘

The general state road fund law (Article 5, Chapter 121, R. S. Mo. 1909) should be amended so the moneys going into that fund may be used, if necessary, in securing the moneys the federal government may wish to give, meet expenses of convicts when working on or building public roads, or used to meet other important and necessary contingencies which might arise in road construction. It goes without saying that the federal government will give special aid, but it may require the states or the people to expend dollar for dollar. Should this be true, then with the general state road fund statute amended, Missouri can be the first state to receive the federal moneys. It would be well if the committees on roads and highways would, in a limited way, revise the road laws. The laws upon the subject are too numerous and confusing, and this Legislature can render a good work in revising same.

And here we are a century later hoping we can have enough transportation funding to match available federal funds.  The total mileage in our transportation system would astonish Major and the legislators of 1917 and thousands of those miles are the former dirt roads that the counties used to drag.  The amount the state spends on the system might be greater than they could comprehend although still not enough.  Convicts no longer provide free labor to build our roads and although we have more than twenty-five thousand convicts, they would not be nearly enough to give us the system we need.

Roads remain today as they were in Major’s time, links “to improve community life and make it better morally, civilly and commercially.” The language might seem a bit expansive in this Twenty-first century, but the point is the same.  A good transportation system is essential for many different purposes.  And the funding to capitalize on that essentiality remains as vital today as it was when dirt roads were the people’s roads.

To paraphrase Governor Elliott Major: “Bad roads are a liability; good roads are an asset. Missouri cannot afford bad roads, but it can afford good roads.”  We’ll be waiting to see the strategy that will convince tight-fisted Missourians they can afford good roads—or alternately, that they can’t afford not to have good roads.

A 95-year old observation whose time might have come

We are four years away from the centennial of Missouri’s centennial.  Missouri’s bicentennial of statehood also will be the centennial of the Missouri Centennial Road Law.   Not everybody thought it was a good idea then. One editor C. G. Sagaser of the  Huntsville Herald might have been something of a seer when he wrote in his June 10, 1921 edition about an upcoming special session of the legislature that would decide how Missouri’s road system would materialize.

Momentum had been building for a decade to develop a system of hard-surface roads.  Voters in 1920 approved a $60 million dollar bond issue to finance those roads.  The legislature and the governor decided to wait until the summer of 1921 to make that decision.

Four days before the session began, Sagaser said, “Something is about to take place in Jefferson City which means more to Missouri than anything which has happened in the past half century…It is up to this special session to say whether this hard surface road building shall be postponed until road material prices have had an opportunity to decline, or whether we shall blindly proceed to hand out this $60,000,000 at once…”

Then there’s another proposition:  Do we want hard surface roads at all?  I certainly have my doubts about their desirability.  If the legislature will postpone any action on the road building program for two years, we shall then have an opportunity to more thoroughly study and acquaint ourselves with the history of hard surface roads in other states, which would assist us in arriving at a conclusion as to what kind of hard surface roads we want, if any at all. (We have added that emphasis for this entry.)

“…The professional politician does not desire a delay in the road building program, because it would give the people too much time to think things over…It has been a long time since Missouri had a state-wide system of hard surface roads, and we have all lived and been a very happy and cheerful race of people, therefore, we should easily be able to live two years longer without even thinking about hard surface roads.

“And when the machine politician talks about ‘hard surface roads,’ he means concrete roads. The hand of the cement trust is plainly visible. I expect the whole thing to terminate in a gigantic steal if it is put through.

“…I say frankly to the people of Missouri that a system of concrete roads will work havoc with us as a state.  In a few years they would become impassable, owing to our financial inability to maintain them.

  There may be states sufficiently wealthy to maintain a general system of concrete roads, but one thing is certain—Missouri is not included among such states.” 

The legislature met for several weeks in the hot and stuffy Capitol before finally compromising on a system of 1,500 miles of roads of a “higher type than claybound gravel” connecting the population centers.  But one-third of the bond money plus $6,000 a mile from the other two-thirds of the bond issue would be used for secondary roads important to farmers.

It was the kind of legislative compromise that used to be possible—an agreement nobody really liked but something that was acceptable.  The Centennial Road Law of 1921 was the beginning of our 32,000 mile state highway system.

But sure enough, as C. G. Sagaser noted ninety-five years ago, the specter of impassibility looms today owing to our financial inability to maintain them.

Our former press corps colleague, David Lieb of the Associated Press, wrote an excellent analysis earlier this week pointing out that our transportation department not only doesn’t have enough money to build roads and bridges, and make comprehensive repairs on our roads and bridges, it’s having to dip into its capital improvements budget to pay off the latest big bond issue approved several years ago to re-surface our deteriorating highways and replace hundreds of dangerous bridges.

A special committee has been looking for solutions in the interim between legislative sessions and a possible fix is expected to be put on the list of bills to consider next year.

The question then will be whether Sagaser is still right with another observation: “There may be states sufficiently wealthy to maintain a general system of concrete roads, but one thing is certain—Missouri is not included among such states.” 

Really?   Still?    Is Sagaser right after all, these ninety-five years later?