An out-of-state government consultant testifying before the Streamlining Government Commission was asked what he thought of Louisiana's new ethics laws being ranked best in the country.
"It said you had the best rules," the consultant deadpanned. "It didn't say you always followed them."
Well put. Beyond bragging rights, it is hard to identify what Gov. Bobby Jindal's signature initiative, the overhaul of state ethics laws, has achieved, other than clearing out Ruth's Chris Steakhouse during legislative sessions by way of the $50 limit on what lobbyists can spend entertaining lawmakers.
In many cases, the difficulty with obeying new ethics rules has been understanding them.
For instance, current ethics cases involving two legislators and one sheriff stand to be decided not on their merits but on whether the Legislature intended for a change in the law to be retroactive or prospective, which could have been but wasn't cleared up with one sentence.
In the interest of fair play, the Legislature shortened the time period from two years to one for the Board of Ethics to bring charges after receiving a complaint.
The near mass resignation of the old board and the appointment of a new one ate up several months before the new members could get around to old cases. They eventually brought the charges within the old two-year window but beyond the new one-year deadline.
The accused officials argue that the new limit applies to them, while the Ethics Board holds that the old rules govern old cases.
Depending on how state courts eventually rule, the first dozen or so cases under the new ethics regime could be thrown out because the Legislature and the governor's lawyers screwed up the drafting of the laws.
The new procedures have other problems, which make justice needlessly elusive.
Ethics charges are no longer decided by the Board of Ethics but by panels of administrative law judges. It's been claimed that because the head of the Division of Administrative Law is appointed by the governor that she can be leaned on to protect Jindal's friends.
That's a twisted stretch.
The director, Ann Wise, first appointed by former Gov. Foster, is as ethical and independent a public servant as this state has. The administrative law judges who work for her are mostly career civil servants who hear thousands of cases each year involving employee-management disputes in state government.
They are as fair and capable as the governor's ethics board appointees in deciding cases. But that doesn't mean they should be doing so.
Legislators came up with using the ALJs in order to get away from having the ethics board act as prosecutor, judge and jury. But they should have thought that through more. Under the new law, the ethics board acts as kind of a grand jury in charging defendants, but once the ALJ renders a decision, the board is required to ratify the ruling, even if members don't agree with it.
Board chairman Frank Simoneaux intends to ask the Legislature to return decision-making to the board, but to have a separate department within the agency investigate and prosecute cases. That would clear up conflicts while restoring the board to its proper adjudicatory role instead of that of a ceremonial bystander.
Also, should the governor and Legislature revisit ethics, they might as well change those three troublesome words, "clear and convincing," that make the new process anything but.
The words were inserted into legislation to set a new standard of proof, meant to fall somewhere between "preponderance of evidence" in civil cases and "beyond reasonable doubt" in criminal cases. Trouble is, no one is quite sure where that somewhere is.
The standard-of-proof wording does not, as some critics claim, make ethics laws unenforceable, but neither does it make them clear. In most cases, the facts are not in dispute so much as is the interpretation of the law. So returning to "preponderance of evidence" would not change outcomes as much as it would re-instill some confidence in the system.
The governor need not worry that clarifying ethics laws would tarnish the gold standard he professes for them. But it sure would help make our best-ranked rules easier to follow.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Panels Brainstorming Smaller Government
One could sense the collective yawn and rolling of the eyes when Gov. Bobby Jindal urged two separate commissions on down-sizing state government and higher education to be bold, to think big and to come up with recommendations that won't just gather dust on a shelf, as has happened in the past.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission.
That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission.
That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Panels Brainstorming Smaller Government
One could sense the collective yawn and rolling of the eyes when Gov. Bobby Jindal urged two separate commissions on down-sizing state government and higher education to be bold, to think big and to come up with recommendations that won't just gather dust on a shelf, as has happened in the past.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission. That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission. That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Both Sides Hit Landrieu on Healthcare
Sen. Mary Landrieu plans to host a town-hall meeting on healthcare reform later this month somewhere in the river parishes. Bring a helmet.
That would be the advice of Democratic congressmen around the country who have been booed, heckled, shouted down and threatened while trying to explain and/or defend their positions on health insurance legislation, particularly the 1,017-page bill that will be on the House floor when lawmakers return from August recess.
Republican operatives and conservative talk show hosts have been blamed for or credited with whipping up the masses, but they didn't wholly manufacture the genuine anger, fear and confusion over an omnibus bill that people felt was being jammed down on them.
Even before the facilitators got involved, one of the first such outbursts of public wrath took place in Reserve, La., last month, when a national rural listening tour of federal Cabinet secretaries, particularly Health Secretary Kathleen Sebelius, received a hostile earful from a loud and angry crowd. The prospect of walking into another raucous town-square shout-out doesn't seem to rattle Landrieu, who has been attacked already over national healthcare--not by conservatives but by liberals in her own party.
Last month, advocacy groups MoveOn.org and Change Congress ran radio and TV ads, respectively, that painted Landrieu as a toady for the insurance industry because she opposed a government-run health insurance option. She was urged to get in line with other Democrats supporting the government plan that would compete with private insurance.
One month later, the worm it is a-turning. Even before the town-hall riots of August, the notion of a federally-run insurance program, the centerpiece of the House bill, was starting to founder in the Senate.
There, negotiations over an elusive bipartisan bill have been moving away from the government option toward coverage offered by a network of non-profit member-owned cooperatives, which would be subsidized by the feds but run by the states. Though the bipartisan Senate bill has not taken full shape, it alone among the major bills under consideration would rein in the growth of federal healthcare spending over ten years, according to the Congressional Budget Office.
The notion of more local control diminishes fear of Big Brother with a needle. Yet critics point out that under a subsidized co-op plan, like with a government plan, cheaper rates would lure many businesses who now offer insurance to employees to drop their private plans for the public model. So when the president says that if you like your insurance policy you can keep it, he should add, "unless your boss chooses the government option or co-op for you."
Landrieu has similar reservations about the government and employers determining the coverage for workers. She and 11 colleagues--six Democrats, six Republicans--have co-sponsored the Healthy Americans Act, which would grant individuals, instead of employers, substantial tax deductions to use to purchase insurance in the marketplace.
Everyone would be required to have insurance, but the government would subsidize those with low incomes. Employers would be required to increase wages to replace what they were spending on health insurance. And insurers could not deny coverage based on pre-existing conditions. It sounds too reasonable and straightforward to be taken seriously in Congress, and it hasn't been yet.
A large number of Democrats will not let go of the government option, while many Republicans still oppose required coverage and more government rules. Frustrated Democrats, angered by the mobbish disruptions in the heartland, might urge the president to pass a bill without any GOP votes.
They would do so at their peril, for passing a law is only the first step. Making that much change work, at what cost, and getting the people to like it, will be how healthcare reform is won, or lost. Sen. Landrieu, meanwhile, seems comfortable on the middle ground she has staked out, though she is scorned on the left and distrusted on the right.
Yet the longer she stays there, the closer the debate seems to move toward her. Down home later this month, armed only with her centrist plan, she will stride into the valley of the town-hall meeting, where, who knows, both sides might stop shouting long enough to listen.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Personal Spats Hold Back School Change
By John Maginnis
Whatever success Gov. Bobby Jindal may claim in the recent legislative session does not extend to his K-12 education agenda, which lawmakers trashed. Not only did the administration-backed package of bills to rein in the power of school boards fail to go anywhere, but passage of a controversial career diploma bill, which Pastorek opposed but the governor signed, could mark a big step backwards from the gains made in student accountability over the past decade.
So it's not surprising that the session barely ended before the blame games began—with emphasis on games, as played on schoolyards.
Legislators complained that state school Superintendent Paul Pastorek was abrasive and talked down to them.
Pastorek said the teacher unions and school boards badmouthed him in order to defeat bills that threatened them.
The governor said one of his appointees, Tammie McDaniel, was stirring up trouble on the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education and he asked her to resign.
She said no, because the constitution said she didn't have to.
McDaniel requested and was granted a meeting with the governor at the Mansion, but when she arrived, she found deputy chief of staff Steve Waguespack sitting in, which made her "uncomfortable." The governor explained that's how things are done in his office. She decided not to stay and drove back to Oak Ridge. The governor's staff leaked word to columnists that she walked out on him and that she was rude. Was not, she said.
Thankfully, the bell rang: recess over.
Now can we have a reasonable conversation about what needs to be changed with schools and school boards and how to get that done? Personalities will always play a role in how public policy is formed, but too often they are the excuses rather than real reasons for failure.
Whether or not Pastorek treated legislators and school board members with the deference they think they deserve obscures the point that he's right: that local school boards should stick to policy and let superintendents and principals run the schools, without the politicians' advice and consent on which school bus drivers must be hired or cafeteria workers promoted.
If micromanagement was the biggest problem that needed correcting, it should have been the main focus, if not the entirety, of the education change agenda. Instead, that issue was sidetracked by debate over term limits and pay limits for school board members, which made it easier for school board and teacher lobbyists to mobilize opposition to the whole package of bills, all of which failed.
Pastorek points out that it took seven years for education advocates to pass a bill against micromanagement in the Texas legislature, and that, despite attempts, a school board term-limits bill never passed there. So why even try a term-limits bill here if the distraction makes it harder to pass a micromanagement bill? Let's hope that lesson has sunk in.
As for the spat between Bobby and Tammie, the governor is now resigned to the fact that he appointed a loose cannon and now can't get rid of her. He has three appointments to BESE and eight members are elected, so her independence poses a challenge for the administration, but hardly an insurmountable one. McDaniel, a former teacher and principal, denies that she is for the status quo and insists that she most often supports Pastorek's policies in principle. She has the chance to prove it, especially now that Jindal has singled her out.
If personal differences can be set aside, BESE has work to do. An immediate challenge is to fashion a curriculum for the new career diploma track that doesn't make hash of the hard-won improvements in student accountability and ending social promotions. While the career track could help in reducing the dropout rate, it will hurt if it also reduces the graduation rate for the academic track. The danger is that many marginal students, who would otherwise tough it out for a real diploma, will choose the path of least resistance, toward a dead end. The Legislature didn't address those details; BESE must.
For their part, the governor and legislative leaders must play a stronger role on future legislation to change how public schools are governed and managed. Otherwise, they will just be spectators when the education community gets into another schoolyard brawl.
Whatever success Gov. Bobby Jindal may claim in the recent legislative session does not extend to his K-12 education agenda, which lawmakers trashed. Not only did the administration-backed package of bills to rein in the power of school boards fail to go anywhere, but passage of a controversial career diploma bill, which Pastorek opposed but the governor signed, could mark a big step backwards from the gains made in student accountability over the past decade.
So it's not surprising that the session barely ended before the blame games began—with emphasis on games, as played on schoolyards.
Legislators complained that state school Superintendent Paul Pastorek was abrasive and talked down to them.
Pastorek said the teacher unions and school boards badmouthed him in order to defeat bills that threatened them.
The governor said one of his appointees, Tammie McDaniel, was stirring up trouble on the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education and he asked her to resign.
She said no, because the constitution said she didn't have to.
McDaniel requested and was granted a meeting with the governor at the Mansion, but when she arrived, she found deputy chief of staff Steve Waguespack sitting in, which made her "uncomfortable." The governor explained that's how things are done in his office. She decided not to stay and drove back to Oak Ridge. The governor's staff leaked word to columnists that she walked out on him and that she was rude. Was not, she said.
Thankfully, the bell rang: recess over.
Now can we have a reasonable conversation about what needs to be changed with schools and school boards and how to get that done? Personalities will always play a role in how public policy is formed, but too often they are the excuses rather than real reasons for failure.
Whether or not Pastorek treated legislators and school board members with the deference they think they deserve obscures the point that he's right: that local school boards should stick to policy and let superintendents and principals run the schools, without the politicians' advice and consent on which school bus drivers must be hired or cafeteria workers promoted.
If micromanagement was the biggest problem that needed correcting, it should have been the main focus, if not the entirety, of the education change agenda. Instead, that issue was sidetracked by debate over term limits and pay limits for school board members, which made it easier for school board and teacher lobbyists to mobilize opposition to the whole package of bills, all of which failed.
Pastorek points out that it took seven years for education advocates to pass a bill against micromanagement in the Texas legislature, and that, despite attempts, a school board term-limits bill never passed there. So why even try a term-limits bill here if the distraction makes it harder to pass a micromanagement bill? Let's hope that lesson has sunk in.
As for the spat between Bobby and Tammie, the governor is now resigned to the fact that he appointed a loose cannon and now can't get rid of her. He has three appointments to BESE and eight members are elected, so her independence poses a challenge for the administration, but hardly an insurmountable one. McDaniel, a former teacher and principal, denies that she is for the status quo and insists that she most often supports Pastorek's policies in principle. She has the chance to prove it, especially now that Jindal has singled her out.
If personal differences can be set aside, BESE has work to do. An immediate challenge is to fashion a curriculum for the new career diploma track that doesn't make hash of the hard-won improvements in student accountability and ending social promotions. While the career track could help in reducing the dropout rate, it will hurt if it also reduces the graduation rate for the academic track. The danger is that many marginal students, who would otherwise tough it out for a real diploma, will choose the path of least resistance, toward a dead end. The Legislature didn't address those details; BESE must.
For their part, the governor and legislative leaders must play a stronger role on future legislation to change how public schools are governed and managed. Otherwise, they will just be spectators when the education community gets into another schoolyard brawl.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Moving Up by Staying Put
By John Maginnis
Simply by staying still, the political stars of the state's top two elected leaders are on the rise.
Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu announced last week he would not run for mayor of New Orleans next year, opting to stay in Baton Rouge, closer to his ultimate goal. Good choice. Even if he were to be elected mayor, hardly assured, the office historically is a dead end for political careers, even if he were to succeed in bringing the city together, also hardly assured. For his future, the best job is the one he has.
The same can be said for Gov. Bobby Jindal, for now anyway. His national star dimmed somewhat this year, but at least it didn't flame out, like those of now-former Republican presidential aspirants Sen. John Ensign of Nevada and Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, both politically destroyed by their recently exposed extra-marital affairs. Their falls are significant because both had recently eclipsed Jindal, following his dreadful nationally televised speech in February, especially dynamic fellow Southerner Sanford.
On another front, Jindal, doing nothing again, also looked good compared to Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who stunned Republicans and disturbed some too by announcing her resignation mid-term. She will make a fortune on the speaking circuit and can focus freely on a potential presidential bid, but some Republicans see her move as erratic and opportunistic.
It might seem like a low bar, but just by honoring his marriage and keeping his job, Bobby Jindal is looking better and better as a leader in the Republican Party.
Yet, unless things change drastically, he most likely is no rival to Palin for the presidential nomination in 2012, nor is he to others mentioned as top early contenders: Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee, Newt Gingrich, even Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.
The Louisiana governor, however, holds an important distinction compared to them all. Given Pawlenty's decision not to seek a third term in 2010, by then Jindal will be the only one of the above serving in public office. So much for the rap on him that he doesn't stay in any job for long. By 2012, seasoned by re-election, Jindal would make an attractive vice presidential candidate for any one of them.
Although he passed on being considered for the second spot on John McCain's ticket last year, next time will be different. If tapped, win or lose, he would be the party's likely frontrunner for 2016 or 2020, when he's 45 or 49.
Over the next three years, Jindal's star need not rise so much as just hold steady, while he stays prepared. Meanwhile, nobody's star is hitched so closely to his as is Landrieu's.
Before his announcement, the lieutenant governor said his decision would be based on where he could do the most good, in City Hall or the State Capitol. So we have his answer. Many hope that means he will challenge Jindal's re-election in 2011. Already he has assumed leadership of the Democratic opposition, criticizing the governor's funding cuts to education and healthcare and his refusal to consider tax increases.
Yet it's a stretch to see Landrieu taking his fight to Jindal on the ballot. Unless the governor is much less popular in two years than he is now, Landrieu's long-term, even short-term prospects lie with the unique office he holds.
In 2010, if Jindal (though he says he won't) challenges and defeats U.S. Sen. David Vitter, and then wins the general election, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2012 (assuming they are both re-elected), if Jindal is tapped to run for vice president, and the Republicans win, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2014, if Jindal, late in his second term, challenges U.S. Sen. Mary Landrieu—or she doesn't seek a fourth term—and he wins, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
If none of the above happens, in 2015, with Jindal leaving office, the political pendulum could well swing back to the Democrats. In which case, barring some upstart, at age 55, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
So, until then, why go anywhere? Patience and perseverance are not qualities ascribed to either man, but practicing such could get them both where they want to go.
Simply by staying still, the political stars of the state's top two elected leaders are on the rise.
Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu announced last week he would not run for mayor of New Orleans next year, opting to stay in Baton Rouge, closer to his ultimate goal. Good choice. Even if he were to be elected mayor, hardly assured, the office historically is a dead end for political careers, even if he were to succeed in bringing the city together, also hardly assured. For his future, the best job is the one he has.
The same can be said for Gov. Bobby Jindal, for now anyway. His national star dimmed somewhat this year, but at least it didn't flame out, like those of now-former Republican presidential aspirants Sen. John Ensign of Nevada and Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, both politically destroyed by their recently exposed extra-marital affairs. Their falls are significant because both had recently eclipsed Jindal, following his dreadful nationally televised speech in February, especially dynamic fellow Southerner Sanford.
On another front, Jindal, doing nothing again, also looked good compared to Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who stunned Republicans and disturbed some too by announcing her resignation mid-term. She will make a fortune on the speaking circuit and can focus freely on a potential presidential bid, but some Republicans see her move as erratic and opportunistic.
It might seem like a low bar, but just by honoring his marriage and keeping his job, Bobby Jindal is looking better and better as a leader in the Republican Party.
Yet, unless things change drastically, he most likely is no rival to Palin for the presidential nomination in 2012, nor is he to others mentioned as top early contenders: Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee, Newt Gingrich, even Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.
The Louisiana governor, however, holds an important distinction compared to them all. Given Pawlenty's decision not to seek a third term in 2010, by then Jindal will be the only one of the above serving in public office. So much for the rap on him that he doesn't stay in any job for long. By 2012, seasoned by re-election, Jindal would make an attractive vice presidential candidate for any one of them.
Although he passed on being considered for the second spot on John McCain's ticket last year, next time will be different. If tapped, win or lose, he would be the party's likely frontrunner for 2016 or 2020, when he's 45 or 49.
Over the next three years, Jindal's star need not rise so much as just hold steady, while he stays prepared. Meanwhile, nobody's star is hitched so closely to his as is Landrieu's.
Before his announcement, the lieutenant governor said his decision would be based on where he could do the most good, in City Hall or the State Capitol. So we have his answer. Many hope that means he will challenge Jindal's re-election in 2011. Already he has assumed leadership of the Democratic opposition, criticizing the governor's funding cuts to education and healthcare and his refusal to consider tax increases.
Yet it's a stretch to see Landrieu taking his fight to Jindal on the ballot. Unless the governor is much less popular in two years than he is now, Landrieu's long-term, even short-term prospects lie with the unique office he holds.
In 2010, if Jindal (though he says he won't) challenges and defeats U.S. Sen. David Vitter, and then wins the general election, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2012 (assuming they are both re-elected), if Jindal is tapped to run for vice president, and the Republicans win, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2014, if Jindal, late in his second term, challenges U.S. Sen. Mary Landrieu—or she doesn't seek a fourth term—and he wins, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
If none of the above happens, in 2015, with Jindal leaving office, the political pendulum could well swing back to the Democrats. In which case, barring some upstart, at age 55, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
So, until then, why go anywhere? Patience and perseverance are not qualities ascribed to either man, but practicing such could get them both where they want to go.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wit and Wisdom of the Louisiana Legislature
by John Maginnis
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
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