Spin Control: Sending a message isn’t the best use of legislators’ time right now

The main job of the Legislature is to spend money. But because Washington lawmakers have to wait for more than half the session before receiving the information that will tell them how much or little they have to spend, some use part of their time introducing bills that will “send a message.”

The message might be about small things, like naming an official state “something.” This session has seen proposals for an official state cactus (basalt cactus), an official state underwater forest (bull kelp), a state sandstone (Wilkeson) and dueling proposals for an official state clam (razor vs. geoduck).

The first two have thus far cleared the hurdles set up to winnow out the legislative chaff, deadlines known as cutoff days when a failure to advance places a bill in jeopardy. The other three managed only a committee hearing, which served primarily as a vehicle for some lawmakers to make jokes and puns around the subject matter.

The unintended message from that session was that any who are thinking of switching to a career in stand-up should not quit their day jobs.

If they are thinking of sending a message other than being solicitous to an elementary school class that came up with the idea as part of a session on civics – which is how many such proposals start – the rest of the world might wonder what it is.

For the two still moving through the system – the state cactus passed the Senate with only a single “Nay,” and the state underwater forest passed the House unanimously – there might be a message that these not-so-common plants are worth protecting. Or, taken together, that Washington is such a diverse or officious state that it can manage an underwater forest and a cactus.

Or that Washington lawmakers have too much time on their hands.

One might lean toward that interpretation after realizing that, as of Friday, a total of 1,819 bills – 1,034 in the House, 785 in the Senate – have been introduced, which averages out to more than 18 per legislator. Idaho legislators are pikers by comparison, having introduced 387 in the House and 105 in the Senate.

Despite the fact that several deadlines for turning bills into laws have passed, Washington legislators continue to introduce more. Such was the case last week, when 28 Democrats introduced a constitutional amendment to guarantee Washingtonians the right to reproductive freedom and gender-affirming care.

Both are protected by statute, so there’s no imminent danger of anyone being denied either at this point. While it’s true that laws can be changed more easily than the constitution, that usually takes a shift in control of the Legislature and the governor’s office, which isn’t happening before 2029 at the earliest. And then only with some seismic shift in Washington politics.

Proposals to change the state constitution face the same deadlines as ordinary bills. So while this one could get a committee hearing that would allow both sides of the issues a chance to vent, as a constitutional amendment it isn’t going anywhere without some parliamentary maneuvering to pull it from legislative limbo. Getting a constitutional amendment through the Legislature is actually harder than a standard bill, because it requires a two-thirds majority in both chambers just to get a spot on the general election ballot to seek voter approval. Democrats don’t have such a majority, and Republicans are unlikely to help them out.

So this proposed amendment is clearly an attempt to send a message. But if it’s to people worried about the prospect of federal restrictions on abortion or transgender care, the message is, at best, mixed. Something along the lines of “We really, really care about your concerns, but not enough to get our act together in time to give this a chance in hell.”

There is an old saying about sending a message, variously attributed to different Hollywood moguls who were asked if they intended to send a message as well as entertain audiences: “I make movies. If I want to send a message, I’ll use Western Union.”

Granted, that’s a bit dated. There are fewer and fewer people who actually have sent or received a message by Western Union, which got out of the telegram business in 2006.

Even baby boomers are more likely to associate Western Union with a 1967 pop-rock song by the Five Americans with a repetitious chorus variously transcribed as “dit, da-dit, da-dit” or “da, dit-da, dit-da” (which any Boy Scout can tell you is E-N-N or T-A-A, so no real message there).

But legislators might want to take heed to the sentiment, if not the specifics, of the saying, which suggests that people who really want to send a clear message should use a medium designed to do just that. While Western Union may be out of the message business, there are plenty of other media that are better than a bill that’s not going anywhere any time soon.

Maybe a better-understood 21st-century version would be, “Make laws. If you want to send a message, use Tik-Tok.”

Correcting the record

Last week’s column incorrectly had the wrong first name listed for former Secretary of State Sam Reed. This was embarrassing on several levels, including the fact that Reed is a Spokane native I’ve known for decades. So I don’t actually have a good excuse for it.