Editor’s note: This commentary is by Dave Matthews, who lives in Stowe and writes a monthly column for the Stowe Reporter.
[T]his opener should end the column, but since it’s a New Year’s resolution, evolved from closely reading statewide commentary of the past six weeks, its support seems to be 10 times more universal than any universal health care.
This one involves governmental secrecy in 21st century America, so let’s cut to the chase.
I (we?) resolve to lower the bar to its lowest point for measuring the eventual performance of the 2015 Vermont Legislature simply to one action. On Jan. 8, in front of live television cameras, each state representative and senator will individually stand on a roll call vote, place a ballot for governor in the ceremonial box and, in no more than 10 seconds, will state 1, “I vote for Mr. Milne,” or 2, “I vote for Mr. Shumlin,” or 3, “I choose not to disclose my ballot.”
That’s it. The Legislature completes its constitutional duty and elects Vermont’s governor for 2015-16. Of utmost importance, it’s done publicly and every state citizen rightfully knows the position taken by his or her elected representative and senator in that body.
These elected politicians can then choose, if asked, to explain the reasons for their vote and their constituents will judge accordingly, as in the case of every other public vote in any legislative session.
I (We?) don’t want to hear any crock of (bleep: insert your own metaphor) from anyone in Montpelier explaining why this can’t be done this week. Just do it, and then formalize the action to permanent status for the future.
One brief citizen comment in a state media outlet said what 99 percent of us already know in our hearts: “For me, a legislator unwilling to vote in the sunlight and let his/her vote be known is unfit for office.”
The Legislature is not the College of Cardinals and it is not electing a pope.
Amen.
Tradition? Ha!
While the issue of how to technically elect a governor in these situations must be black and white, debating on a name to support is chaos. Opinions explode in every direction.
These are mine.
This was the Kentucky Derby. Milne stumbled out of the starting gate, picked himself up late in the backstretch, gained credibility and confidence in the homestretch, but lost the one-and-a-quarter-mile race in a photo finish.
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First of all, forget “tradition.” If “tradition” were the issue here, maybe we return to the “tradition” of 108 years of electing a Republican for no more than four years, making sure to alternate from one governor from the west side of the Green Mountains and the next from the east side.
Democrat Phil Hoff broke that “tradition” in 1963, then had the nerve to break another by serving six years, and then watched Dick Snelling up that to eight and Howard Dean to 11. Perish the thought someone breaks that “tradition.”
The old “tradition” issue currently at hand is that the candidate who receives the most votes will be elected by the Legislature if no one received 50 percent of the vote in the general election.
Old? Forget the history books; this really started in earnest at the advent of the Jim Douglas era (way back in in 2002) when Doug Racine, the Democratic nominee, graciously did not challenge a razor-thin 2.5 percent margin, which was reciprocated by Brian Dubie, the Republican nominee who lost by 1.8 percent to Shumlin in 2010.
On that bipartisan precedent alone, the Legislature had four years’ justification to make the simplest of all solutions; amend the Constitution to elect a governor by plurality vote and move on to other things.
But 2014 was different, and now the debate is more complex. This off-year election featured a campaign-savvy and seasoned sitting governor loaded with money, up against a totally inexperienced political neophyte, who appeared to the public as stepping up to take one for the GOP team and who was far from confident of any victory.
However, the November voters and political rookie Scott Milne together handed Shumlin the most surprising, humbling, severe kick in the (bleep: insert your own body part) ever handed a sitting governor in Vermont history. If this were any closer in election similarity to the voter revolt earlier this year against ex-House Majority Leader Eric Kantor, R-Va., Shumlin also would be history.
I love sports analogies. This was the Kentucky Derby. Milne stumbled out of the starting gate, picked himself up late in the backstretch, gained credibility and confidence in the homestretch, but lost the one-and-a-quarter-mile race in a photo finish. Had this been the longer Belmont Stakes at one and a half miles, Milne would now be governor and the long-shot bettors would be cashing in at the window.
So Milne challenged the 12-year-old “tradition” that the most votes win and he had every right to do so. And he has prompted much-needed discourse on the topic.
Truly, there are logical observations by reasonable people on both sides of the issue. This should be a topic for the Vermont high school debate team competitions.
As much as anyone with journalism genes would love to see political institutions dealing with a “Dewey Beats Truman” headline, Scott Milne is not going to win a legislative vote on Jan. 8. However, he will hold an indelible legacy in Vermont history if the political powers are forced by the people to have Milne and others in the future win or lose the election in public.