By
Christian Schneider
Thursday,
July 20, 2023
Name any
political phenomenon that benefits the Right, and Democrats will denounce it as
“antidemocratic.”
Famously,
liberals have derided new laws tightening voting requirements in the post-Covid
world as a threat to democracy (even though in Georgia, for example, voting surged after the enactment of such
laws). Gerrymandering, a practice older than American democracy itself, is
often flagellated as a “thorn in the side of
democracy.” Some even argued that the Supreme Court case that ended the
judiciary’s nearly half-century-long stranglehold on abortion law and restored
the issue to the democratic process would “degrade
democracy.”
But when
an actual act of erosion of the democratic process occurs and, say, locks in
higher government-spending levels for the next four centuries, Democrats stick
their arms out and feign blindness, as if the prescription for their glasses
has just expired.
To be
specific, while issuing his vetoes of the 2023–25 state budget, Wisconsin’s
Democratic governor, Tony Evers, effectively played a word game and created a
new law that had neither been contemplated nor voted upon by the
Republican-controlled legislature.
A
sentence in the budget bill passed by the legislature meant to temporarily
increase per-pupil aid read, “For the limit for the 2023-24 school year and the
2024-25 school year, add $325.”
But with
the creative use of his editing pen, Evers struck the occasional word, hyphen,
and number to transform the sentence into:
“For the
limit for 2023-2425, add $325 . . .”
And
thus, as if completing a morning Wordle puzzle, Evers locked in an enhanced
level of school spending for the next 400 years. According to the Wisconsin
Institute of Law and Liberty, Evers’s word game will require $57 billion in additional property taxes
over the next two decades to fund the promise he made.
If you
are looking for a Schoolhouse Rock video to explain how a
governor can unilaterally create entirely new laws out of thin air by wordplay,
you will be left wanting. The poor bill sitting on Capitol Hill is left to gaze
longingly at the laws born directly in the executive mansion, which exist
solely because of the happy accident that the numbers “2,” “4,” “2,” and “5”
appeared in order.
“Armed
with the partial veto,” a memo by a state legislative
attorney states, “the governor can alter text and numbers to create laws that
not only may have been unintended by the legislature, but also that the
legislature deliberately rejected.” U.S. Seventh Circuit Court judge Richard
Posner has described this power as “unusual, even quirky.”
Yes,
adorable.
Of
course, governors of both political parties have used this creative “partial
veto” authority to their own ends, and, twice before, voters responded by
voting for a constitutional amendment to rein this power in. Wisconsin
governors used to have what was called the “Vanna White” veto, which allowed
them to take a full passage of text and strike letters from it to form new words.
For
instance, in 1983, Republican governor Tony Earl grabbed 121 words of text and
started axing individual letters until only 22 words remained. The new law
changed how statewide waste disposal was managed.
After
Governor Tommy Thompson continued to use the “Vanna White” veto, voters
responded by passing a constitutional amendment outlawing it. But the partial
veto was nowhere near dead, as the amendment still allowed governors to use
whole words, if not individual letters, as building blocks. Soon, Democratic
governor Jim Doyle used what power remained to stitch together 20 words of a
752-word passage, transferring $427 million out of the state road fund and into
the state general fund, where it was ultimately
transferred into
the state school-funding formula.
Wisconsin
voters once again stepped in and passed a constitutional amendment to ban what
an enterprising young legislative staffer* dubbed the “Frankenstein veto”: the
ability to stitch together words from unrelated sentences to create an entirely
new sentence. But the law still allowed governors to delete individual words
within sentences and remove sentences altogether.
Doyle
was succeeded by Republican Scott Walker, who, buttressed by a like-minded GOP
legislature, didn’t need to drastically reconstruct budget bills to get what he
wanted. (He did use the partial veto on
occasion, such as
when he delayed the implementation of a program from 2018 to 2078.) But Evers
won in 2018 and again in 2022, and rather than seriously consider the merits of
Republican bills, he just decided to rewrite them to say what he wanted.
Of
course, we barely need to imagine what the media reaction would have been if,
say, Virginia governor Glenn Youngkin had taken a 1,000-word passage out of a
budget bill and creatively cropped it to start a new right-wing state
university free from diversity counselors and gender-studies majors. Some poor
MSNBC intern would have to stand behind Nicolle Wallace and supply her with
smelling salts to make sure she didn’t pass out from disbelief.
Nevertheless,
it will be Republicans that are constantly accused of trying to erode democracy
through democratic means. (It would help the GOP’s argument if so many of its
members didn’t continue to stand by a former president that tried to overturn
the results of a national election.)
Take for
example a recent piece in the Atlantic sporting
a title that asks, “Is Tennessee a Democracy?” The evidence the piece uses to
prove that the democratic process in Tennessee is on its last legs is that a
lot of Republicans got elected to a lot of offices and immediately began doing
Republican stuff — some of it is pretty kooky and misguided, but almost all of
it has passed via the traditional democratic process. North Korea it ain’t.
When
America’s founders weighed the merits of the separation of powers, they
couldn’t possibly have envisioned an executive that unilaterally enacts laws by
being particularly skilled at word and number games. And yet this legal hack
allows Wisconsin governors to do just that.
Nevertheless,
the reporters proclaiming the end of democracy will continue to flood Florida
and Tennessee and all the states where they think the legislatures convene in
meth labs. But they will continue to ignore Wisconsin Democrats’ embrace of the
absurd partial veto, a practice that is a bit like cosmetic surgery — you can
take out and put in as much as you want, but the product is probably going to
be even less appealing.
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