“Initiatives.” “Propositions.” “Questions.” “Measures.” “Referenda.” “Ballot Bonanzas.” “Pollingpaloozas.” “Good ol’ Fashion Votin’ Time(!).” The nomenclature and a few of the features vary, but the core concept remains—every so often (though in California very often) the public will bypass the state or local legislatures and offer its collective—and binding—voice on proposed statutory or constitutional amendments. In Switzerland, where the practice is nationalized, they call it “direct democracy.” We might as well call it that here, too. Stateside, there are sometimes technicalities to bookend the people’s firsthand dips into the legislative process. In some states, lawmakers have (or are now trying to erect) all sorts of cumbersome barriers to initiative access. Elsewhere, lawmakers can offer alternatives to run alongside the initiatives that have qualified for the ballot. Washington is one, and further requires that the Legislature’s alternative “deal[] with the same subject” as the original—whatever that means.
Washington’s process is about as purely democratic as it gets. Under the Evergreen’s constitution, an “initiative” permits the electorate to, well, initiate law—bypassing the legislature completely, or taking the more milquetoast option of imploring it to consider the new statute. The “referendum,” on the other finger, enables the public to approve or disapprove of laws already passed or proposed in the preceding session—that is, referring existing legislative questions to the voters. The latter requires the legislature’s say-so to appear on the ballot. The former can proceed without any lawmaker input.
Given the gravity and centrality of the people’s voice in this whole “civilization” enterprise of ours, it is telling that Article II in its first sentence provides that it is they, not lawmakers, who “reserve to themselves the power to propose bills, laws, and to enact or reject the same at the polls independent of the legislature, and also reserve power, at their own option, to approve or reject at the polls any act, item, section, or part of any bill, act, or law passed by the legislature.” From this standpoint it makes much sense for the Constitution to require the legislature prioritize considering ballot initiatives over any other in-session matter, whether their alternate focus is on run-of-the-mill legislation or even proposed constitutional amendments. (The only exception to initiative precedence are appropriations bills—typically not a serious contender for the Legislature’s complete attention.) To wit:
If such petitions are filed not less than ten days before any regular session of the legislature, he shall transmit the same to the legislature as soon as it convenes and organizes. Such initiative measure shall take precedence over all other measures in the legislature except appropriation bills and shall be either enacted or rejected without change or amendment by the legislature before the end of such regular session.
Wash. Const. Art. II, Sec. 1(a).
First, the “precedence rule” is simply good politics. No politician worth their salt would argue that covering their ears and screaming “nah nah nah, I’m not listening!!!!” is a winning electoral strategy, no matter how well it might have worked with your siblings way back when. If anything, foregoing such discourse might make many voters wonder why entrenched interests are so adamantly opposed to the change. Second, it is healthy for the political process overall. Public discussion of ballot measures well ahead of Election Day keeps the voters informed and helps hold officeholders to account. Open testimony lets voters see which lawmakers and lobbyists are for or against each initiative, and this provides a powerful heuristic substitute for wonky legislative deep dives that the average person simply lacks the time (or, frankly, need) to undertake. Hearing that Jealous Oregonians Against Freedom support one initiative, or Doe-Eyed Fawn for Liberty another can tell voters a lot more about a particular measure’s worth (or lack thereof). At least more than would a Talmudic study of the fine print. Finally, Senate and House inquiries afford ballot proposals equal if not greater public attention—good and bad—as marquee legislation tends to generate each year. In all of these respects (and more), the precedence rule in practice keeps the voters’ legislative powers at the same forefront it occupies on paper, in Article II.
Despite the clear language in the constitution which the Citizen Action Defense Fund outlined in a letter to the legislative leadership, our public servants in Olympia have thus far seen fit to ignore this year’s initiatives, in contravention to the aforesaid constitutional precedence requirement. Two are not being heard at all, although they could potentially hold hearings on the other four.
And no, this has not been some bizarro session dominated by appropriations fights. Op-eds aplenty have implored the Legislature for months to take them up, and last week a large crowd gathered at the Capitol steps loudly but peacefully demanding the Legislature simply take a look.
This is not just about open and honest discourse. As mentioned, the Legislature always has the opportunity to offer alternative initiatives—ones that address the same core issues but in a manner more agreeable to the existing legislative majority’s policy positions. Or, in lieu of presenting alternatives, a majority in the Legislature can opt to enact the initiatives itself. In the event that a majority of lawmakers disagrees with the measure(s), it can separately provide a vanguard for dissenting public opinion, letting voters know how their representatives—in all their wisdom—view the initiative in question. (And of course it is nobody’s fault if a legislative majority has become so unpopular that that their rejection of an initiative aggrandizes rather than diminishes voter support for it come November.)
All this said, the least the Legislature can do before this abbreviated session comes to a close next month is to give these initiatives their fair public airing. Olympia has no good reason to treat this holy grail like the poisoned Shirt of Nessus that Socrates donned just before his mythic demise (his execution-by-suicide following a massive Athenian jury’s guilty verdict—a peek into the dark side of direct democracy). Failing to give this year’s six initiatives some precedence—albeit belated and thereby partial—is a dereliction of our legislators’ constitutional duty and an insult to good direct democracy (the sort that lowers taxes, say, instead of condemning philosophers to death). Anything less betrays Washington’s rich initiative history, sidelining the people’s voice in the process.
Alki,
Sam Spiegelman