The Thicket at State Legislatures

There is a List for That Tweet

by Meagan Dorsch

This month, Twitter unveiled a new feature called Lists. It's a way for you to organize your followers or the people you are following on Twitter. 

The National Conference of State Legislatures tweets daily under NCSLCOMM (this site is operated out of our communications division, hence the COMM) and we have decided to put this new list feature to good use.

On our Twitter page, we have made our "lists" available to our followers. You can now find state legislators, legislative staff, caucuses and NCSL staff on Twitter. We would be remiss if we did not thank NCSL policy staff and the Legislative Information and Communications Staff Section (LINCS) at NCSL for helping us compile these Twitter addresses.

We know that we were not able to capture every state legislator or caucus that is active on Twitter, so this is where your help comes in. Please send us a direct message on Twitter (or reply to this blog) and let us know where to find your lawmaker or staffer.

We hope you enjoy and use our "lists" and we look forward to adding more names in the coming weeks.

Follow NCSL on Twitter and Facebook and Ning!

Would you Let the KKK into your Town Hall Meeting?

by Karl Kurtz

Lee Hamilton has another excellent Commentary on Congress, "Whatever their Tone, We Need Town Hall Meetings."  It begins:

Years ago, when I was still in Congress, I pulled up one day to address a public meeting in a remote and very rural part of Indiana. The sheriff, a friend of mine, met me outside the small volunteer fire house where I was to speak. "The Ku Klux Klan is here in full regalia," he told me. "If you'd like, I'll keep them out of your meeting."

For just a second, I'll confess, I weighed his offer. But I was not in the business of trying to keep constituents out of public gatherings — even if they were in the KKK. No, I told my friend, the Klansmen could come in, as long as they removed their hoods. There's no place for anonymity in a public meeting, I said.

And so about twenty-five of them — hoodless — marched down the aisle made by the rickety folding chairs set up in the tiny firehouse and took their places in the front. Was this or was this not a Christian nation, they demanded. And what did I think about Jewish influence in Hollywood and on the media? I responded calmly, but their persistent overtones of anti-Semitism wore out the audience's patience. Eventually they left, and the meeting continued.

And concludes:

Over my years in Congress, I conducted hundreds, if not thousands, of town-hall meetings. Almost every time I came away with the feeling that this was precisely what I was meant to be doing — engaging with my constituents in a small part of the dialogue of democracy. Just as often, these meetings reinforced my confidence in the fairness, decency and judgment of the American people.

I've been in Algeria for the last week with a team of legislators and staff, leading a couple of workshops for Algerian legislators.  One of our topics was citizen engagement and  constituent communication. We emphasized the importance of town hall meetings and talked about how to set them up.  We have a great team here, consisting of North Dakota Rep. Rae Ann Kelsch, New Jersey Assemblymember Upendra Chivikula, Minnesota Senate legislative counsel Peter Wattson, Florida policy research director Gary Vanlandingham, and NCSL's Christy Delafield.  They did a great job of carrying Lee Hamilton's point, but after reading his commentary, I wished that he had been here with us to tell this story.

See our previous postings in The Thicket about town hall meetings starting with "Town Hall Meetings: Building Trust Online."

Run Government Like a Business: Who has the Time?

by Brian Weberg

We don't seem to hear it as much as we used to, but the claim that government would be better if "run like a business" still lurks in political campaigns and in criticisms of government inefficiencies (we even used it in a Thicket post a few years ago).  Today I was reminded of yet another reason why this prescription so thoroughly misses the mark.  In particular, government leaders--and especially those new to the job--simply do not have the luxury of time or resources available to their private sector counterparts to learn the levers of leadership and to deliver results.

My "ahah" came while listening in on a "teleforum" featuring Patricia Wheeler, an executive coach at The Levin Group.  Wheeler summarized a recent market study conducted by the Institute of Executive Development that examined "the transitions that top executives make into and through organizations, and the road blocks that can occur in the process..."  The results have interesting implications for the challenges that face legislative leaders and for the impending replacement of baby boomer executives at state legislative staff agencies.

Here are some of the findings:

• 72% of survey respondents reported that internal candidates hired into executive roles need more than three months to get up to speed and at least one-fourth need six months.
• Only 11% reported that orientation programs were effective at helping a new executive to be effective and fewer than one-third said that mentoring was useful. 
• Respondents (68%) identified "lack of interpersonal and leadership skills" as the primary cause for under performance by new executives.

My first reaction was to reflect on the "first 100 days" yardstick we use to measure Presidential effectiveness and the fact that many state legislative sessions are over in 90 days or less.  We expect our new government leaders to produce results starting on their first day on the job.  Three months to get up to speed?  Forget about it.  

Fire Alarms and Police Patrols: Two Approaches to Legislative Oversight

by Karl Kurtz

American legislatures don't devote enough time or attention to legislative oversight. That's a nearly universal complaint about both Congress and state legislatures. Legislative surveillance and control of the executive branch is hard work, not very rewarding and not something that legislators can easily take credit for, say the critics by way of explanation for the neglect of this function.

But that's a one-dimensional view of legislative oversight, according to University of California Berkeley Professor Bruce Cain in testimony before California Assembly and Senate select committees on improving state government last week. Bruce was drawing on a distinction between police patrol oversight and fire alarm oversight, terms coined in the 1980s by political scientists Matthew McCubbins and Thomas Schwartz.

Police patrol oversight, like its namesake, is the routine work of "patrolling" the executive branch looking for problems in program implementation. It is usually centralized in a legislature in an audit or program review committee with a staff agency that evaluates the performance of executive agencies. It relies on formal committee hearings on agency operations and on interim studies and reports on legislative performance. Police patrol oversight is usually initiated by the legislature and tends to be formal and systematic.

Fire alarm oversight of executive programs by legislatures occurs when interest groups complain about how programs are administered, the media expose programmatic waste or abuse, or constituents report problems with government services that reveal flaws in program design or implementation. It is highly decentralized, relies on outside actors to "sound an alarm", and is less than systematic.

"My bills were my babies. I loved them all"

by Karl Kurtz

In the middle of a day-long joint hearing by California's recently appointed Assembly and Senate select committees on improving state government, Bob Naylor, a former Assembly minority (Republican) leader, said, "This is the best prolonged discussion of the legislative process, in which members have stayed attentive, that I have ever seen in California."  Fifteen members were present for most of the day and asked challenging and interesting questions of a dozen or so panelists.

The most colorful, provocative and occasionally outrageous testimony was given by State Treasurer Bill Lockyer, who was formerly attorney general and president pro tem of the Senate.  A few of his best one-liners:

• Referring to the cumbersome system of checks and balances in American democracy, he said, "We're part of a system that was designed not to work."  See Dan Walters in the Sacramento Bee.
• In relation to a proposal to allow committee chairs to decide which bills would be heard (California has a practice of hearing all bills), he said that he wouldn't want a committee chair to determine which of his bills were heard.  "My bills were my babies.  I loved all of them."
• "As someone who has served both in the legislative and executive branches, I can say that legislative oversight is often unfair to the executive."
• "Maybe we should have graduated limits on bill introductions. You know, first-term members could introduce just a few bills, second-term members a few more, and so on..."
• Referring to the inexperience problem in the Assembly created by term limits and evidence that Assembly committees stop far fewer bills than they did before term limits: "Two-thirds of the bills that come out of the Assembly should never see the light of day....  Stop it, stop it, stop it!  Nancy Reagan was right: You should just say no."

Of Rituals, Swords and Cod: More Symbols of Authority

by Kae Warnock

We human beings carry out a significant portion of our lives on the basis of little rituals. Birthdays are celebrated with candles on the cake, toasts are offered at wedding receptions, and commencement ceremonies are held for graduations.  So it should come as no surprise that legislatures also observe rituals and use symbols to mark the beginning and the end of the legislative session.

The mace is probably the most common symbol in the Anglo-parliamentary world, but other legislative chambers have their own unique practices.

The South Carolina House sergeant-at-arms, dressed in a black suit and tie and wearing white gloves, removes the golden ceremonial mace from its glass-fronted vault and places it in a special rack on the front of the podium. Across the hall, the Senate sergeant-at-arms, similarly dressed, stands outside the chamber. In his right hand is the sword of state. The reading clerk bangs the gavel three times and announces “Members and guests will please rise as we receive our distinguished President”. The sergeant-at-arms carries the sword and leads the lieutenant governor (who is wearing a purple robe) to the front of the chamber. The sergeant at arms places the sword in its cradle on the Senate rostrum and large lamps light up on both ends of the desk.

The South Carolina sword of state is first mentioned in the 1704 Journal of the Commons House of Assembly of South Carolina when it was purchased for the governor.  The original sword was stolen in 1941 and was never recovered. The current sword was presented to the Senate in 1941 as a personal gift from Lord Halifax, former British ambassador to the United States. To learn more about South Carolina's traditions, see "Seals, Flags, House and Senate Emblems."

The Mace as a Symbol of Authority

by Karl Kurtz

On a visit to Virginia's marvelously historic and beautifully restored state capitol last week, I saw a mace on display in a glass case in the old House chamber.  Sitting next to it was a stack of bookmarks, available for the curious visitor, entitled "The Symbol of Authority."  Here are excerpts from that bookmark, one of a series of clever informational handouts produced by Clerk of the House Bruce Jamerson:

During the Middle Ages, the mace was introduced as a weapon of war.  Medieval bodyguards, known as sergeants-at-arms, carried maces to protect kings and high officials in processions among the people.  Gradually, more useful weapons replaced the mace.  In the fourteenth century, the mace had become an ornament of beauty made of precious metals and decorated with jewels.  Thus, the mace evolved into an object that was symbolic of royal authority and power.  The British House of Commons was the first body to use the mace in this manner.

The current mace of the House of Delegates is a symbolic successor to the silver ceremonial mace that was presented to the Virginia House of Burgesses by the royal governor in 1700.  The silver mace was sold after the Revolution as the legislators felt that it too strongly represented links to the royal past.  The House met without a mace for nearly 180 years.

In 1974, the current mace was purchased in England by the Jamestown Yorktown Foundation and presented to the House of Delegates....

During current legislative sessions, the sergeant-at-arms carries the ten-pound mace into the chamber and places it into a cradle in front of the Speaker’s desk....

I knew that the U. S. House of Representatives displays a mace on a pedestal next to the speaker, but I didn't know about state legislative use of this symbol.  I asked Bruce Jamerson about it and he said that the only other legislature with a mace that he knew about was the South Carolina House of Representatives, which, unlike Virginia, still has its original symbol.  Sure enough, the South Carolina House website says that its mace, purchased in England in 1756 by the "'Commons House of Assembly of the Province of South Carolina' for 90 guineas," is the oldest one in legislative use in the United States.

When I returned to the office I asked the same question that I had put to Bruce and was not surprised to find that my colleague, Kae Warnock, knower of all things state capitol, had the answer. Three other legislative chambers besides the U.S., Virginia and South Carolina houses use the mace as a symbol of authority: the Pennsylvania House and Senate and the Maryland House of Delegates.

Decline in Statehouse Reporting Places Burden on Nonpartisan Staff

by Karl Kurtz

Joe Turner is retiring after 20 years as the statehouse reporter in Olympia for the Tacoma News Tribune.  In "'Joe Turner's Come and Gone,'" (a title deliberately borrowed from an August Wilson play) he writes an engaging and touching farewell to his profession, lamenting, as have so many, the decline of statehouse reporting.   He includes an unusual song of praise for the nonpartisan staff whom he relied upon for many years:

The erosion of the statehouse press corps puts an additional burden on another group of people to keep the public adequately informed. They are the nonpartisan staff on whom I have relied so heavily for the past 20 years.

Most readers know nothing of these people. They are lawyers, mostly. They are smart, all of them. They are the committee staffers, the ones who actually research and write the bills and laws that are sponsored by elected representatives and senators. And because they work for two sets of masters (Democrats and Republicans), they must walk the straight and narrow. I trust them.

I learned their value early on, in 1990 when I began covering transportation issues (a 5-cent gas tax increase) at the state level. The late-Rep. Ruth Fisher of Tacoma was chairwoman of the House Transportation Committee and she instructed her committee staff to give me whatever I needed.

“If he’s going to be writing about transportation, make sure he understands what he’s writing about,” Fisher said, in that gruff, abrupt manner that was her trademark.

It is in the hands of those kinds of people that I leave you. Without the combination of reporters and non-partisan staff, our citizens would be in real trouble. You see, we reporters know so little of what actually is going on in government. It’s true....

A rose from The Thicket to Brad Hendrickson.

I Work for the Government. Yes!

by Brian Weberg

The Associated Press, in a story published September 24, describes the Great Recession's "labor legacy: shorter workweeks, grayer work force and less job security."  The following excerpts from the story stand out to me and raise questions about the future of legislative work and government employment.

...the most enduring change is the permanent loss of millions of jobs across the manufacturing, services and retail sectors.

The national unemployment rate...isn't expected to return to a "normal" level near 5 percent until 2014.

The need to cut costs deeply and quickly...[is] the central responsibility of managers these days.

A record 4.98 million people had been out of work 27 weeks or longer in August...

For those who have a full-time job, flexibility is key.

About 40 percent of workers are now over 55 or older, the highest since...1961.

More workers are delaying retirement for economic and personal reasons, locking up jobs that are sought by younger workers entering the work force.

Among white-collar workers, job security began to disappear in the recession of the early 1990s...it may be gone now.

Over the past year, the unemployment rate jumped 64 percent for managers and professionals like lawyers...

For some younger white-collar workers, job insecurity is so high that just hanging on has replaced asking for a raise or promotion.

How do these trends apply to or affect the more than 27,000 full time staff who work in state legislatures?  Anecdotal and some survey evidence indicates that the legislative workplace is graying as baby boomers hold onto jobs they might have retired from in a better economy.  Many legislatures are cutting costs through furloughs, travel restrictions, unfilled vacancies and other work-related measures.  Layoffs, however, do not appear to be widespread.  Is this third trend in the AP story--less job security--one that has come to state legislatures, or will it soon?  Despite the fact that almost all legislative employees are at-will, these jobs have been remarkably stable and secure for several decades.

Most legislative staff I know agree that state legislatures are great places to work.  In light of the changes happening in employment in America, maybe these legislative jobs are better than ever.  Will the Great Recession change that, or just reinforce it?

Vermont Garden

by Meagan Dorsch

My colleague, Bert Waisanen, an avid home gardener, recently discovered what we believe to be the first, and perhaps only, state capitol food garden in Montpelier, Vermont.

Bert discovered the Vermont State House Food Garden as he waited to testify on state taxes at the capitol. It appears the garden was the project for a local advocacy group, with a goal of making Montpelier a more sustainable place to live. The group also hopes to inspire residents to create their own vegetable gardens. You can read more about the project and how it got off the ground in this blog. While he was on-site, Bert's thumb turned green with envy as workers harvested dozens of pounds of fresh greens and vegetables.  

The Vermont program is volunteer based and about a half dozen workers are dedicated to the harvest. All of the food is immediately given to local food banks. The fourth harvest of the year (which Bert was on-site for) produced over 8 lbs of cabbage, 27 lbs of beets and over 3 lbs of beans. All of the food was given to the Bethany Soup Kitchen. It looks like workers planted more kale, collards, broccoli, lettuce, beets and spinach.

The volunteers told Bert their program is the first state capitol food growing program in the US, which began this year. It appears they are correct. I attempted to Google and find other statehouse gardens, but didn't come up with any. We do know the White House has a community garden and a blog to keep track of each harvest.

Each month, Bert turns our NCSL break room into a mini farmer's market to sell fresh jalapenos, peppers, lettuce and tomatoes (I loved the peppers). Harvest time is right around the corner, so let us know if there is another state capitol that is helping to feed the community, or if you are planting the idea for this spring.