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Posts published in “Stapilus”

A nonpartisan vote counter

In purest theory, you could reasonably say that legislative candidate Steve Herndon has a point. One, anyway.

Herndon, the Republican Senate nominee in District 1, and a former legislator whose ideas periodically have been too much for even the Idaho Legislature to stomach, has filed a complaint against the campaign of Phil McGrane, Idaho’s elected secretary of state. It is under review by the attorney general’s office.

The specific complaint is relatively minor and technical, having to do with whether McGrane properly reported in the right time period certain campaign costs related to a mailer intended to benefit various other Republican candidates, one of them being Herndon’s recent primary election opponent. (For what it’s worth, McGrane’s explanation of the situation sounds reasonable, but we’ll see what the AG’s office does.)

A recent Idaho Capital Sun article on this also brought up a larger point worth some more general consideration. Herndon argued that a person in charge of conducting an election (as the secretary of state generally is and as county clerks are) should “be completely impartial on the elections, regardless of the outcome. It clouds his impartiality.”

You can understand the point. Election officials who take sides in a political contest can be seen as having a stake in the outcome. Judges in our judicial system, to take a related example, are supposed to be rigorously neutral to ensure the cases they consider are decided fairly (and, as it happens, are elected on non-partisan ballot lines); or at least that’s the general idea.

This does run up against the reality of the picture, over at least most of the last century, in Idaho election administration.  Under Idaho law, both the office of secretary of state and those of the county clerks are partisan offices; the people elected to them are (with the rarest of exceptions) Republicans (mostly) or Democrats. It’s been that way since statehood.

The Sun quoted McGrane: “I think at times people forget I’m also on the ballot and a participant in the space, right? …I’m a partisan elected official. I’m a proud Republican. … I think the biggest thing that’s most important is we try to be hyper transparent… and that includes the fact that I have opinions. I’m a voter, just like everybody else, that I want people to know where I stand.”

His predecessors have from time to time made similar comments.

But this is where we get past the theory and move into practice.

In actual practice, the partisan election administration system Idaho has (which is similar to those of most other states), works pretty well.

For generations, Idaho has had secretaries of state whose fairness in handling elections hasn’t been seriously questioned, from Pete Cenarrusa (who held the job 35 years), Ben Ysursa, Lawrence Denney and now McGrane. That’s a long time to keep a track record essentially spotless.

The many county clerks Idaho has elected in those years have had similarly solid records in election management. In recent election cycles (including this one) election results and counts have been audited, and the clerks have emerged with close to perfect records.

And many if not most of these officials have been solidly partisan people as political figures. Cenarrusa had been a speaker of the Idaho House, a job that doesn’t usually go to someone who won’t support their party. They show up at party events and call for electing their side and defeating the opposition. That hasn’t however kept them from doing a fair job of election administration.

All of that said, if a ballot initiative were to appear declaring that all election administration offices in the state would henceforth be nonpartisan, I’d likely support it. In principle, I think Herndon has a point here. It’s just that in practice, it hasn’t been a problem.

Two other points should be made as well.

Idaho has done a decent job of filling those election posts with people willing to put their political preferences to the side when time comes to accurately count the votes.

And, Herndon might reflect on how this push for non-partisan fairness lines up with his party’s recent national push for advantage at all costs.

 

A split in the gorge

Visit Hood River, as so many people do, and you’ll see on the front windows of many downtown businesses a sign saying: “We are immigrants,” and sometimes next to them signs saying, “No trespassing — no federal agents — agents lacking judicial warrants will be turned away.”

Many took care to advertise an April 23 community town hall about the “impacts of ICE actions in our communities.”

Politically and socially, Hood River closely resembles pieces of central Portland or Corvallis.

Travel about 20 miles down the highway to the other major Columbia Gorge community, The Dalles, and you’d have to search hard to find any such signs about immigration or other public policy. I couldn’t find one.

These two communities theoretically ought to be twins.  The Dalles has a formal population about twice as large as Hood River, but the cities’ urbanized areas feel comparable in size. Both rely on their Columbia River location for strong tourism sectors, while each still depends considerably on agriculture. Both cities exude some prosperity (a little more obviously, maybe, in the case of Hood River). Even the cities’ road plans, and mix of commercial, industrial and residential areas are laid out similarly.

And yet to walk around these two cities is to get an entirely different feel. Hood River is packed solid on weekends — parking is hard to find — its popularity as a tourist destination spot (sporting activities, notably windsurfing, are a major draw). The Dalles draws tourists but seems more reliant on traditional resource businesses and its massive new data centers, a subject of some local controversy.

But the politics of the area is clear and reflects the overall feel of the communities. Hood River city, and the county around it, is strongly Democratic, while The Dalles area leans very slightly Republican and Wasco County around it mostly is strongly so.

The reasons for this, and the impact of recent economic developments, suggest a small but clear current movement toward Democrats, which may have an effect on one of the handful of closely contested Oregon legislative seats.

The Gorge, or at least the Oregon side of it, has been politically fluid over the decades. In the half-century up to 1988, you could argue that Wasco was more Democratic than Hood River; certainly it voted more often for Democrats for president. Since then — around the time Oregon became a consistent Democratic vote on the presidential level — Hood River has become clearly bluer, and Wasco more purplish.

Hood River County overall in 2024 voted 65.8% Democratic for president (well short of Multnomah but close to the margins in Washington and Benton), most strongly in Hood River city (four of those precincts went Democratic by more than 70%), but generally county-wide as well.

Wasco County barely voted Republican for president, 51.1%, and that close split reflected a wide range of views around the county’s 12 precincts. Four precincts in and just to the west of The Dalles voted Democratic, two more nearby were closely split, and the remaining rural precincts, with smaller populations, were strong Donald Trump bases.

The one rural precinct which went for Kamala Harris, Rowena-Mosier, lies on the old Highway 30 directly between The Dalles and Hood River. Many of the residences there are relatively new, suggesting that some of the same population moves and cultures that have influenced Hood River and to a lesser degree The Dalles had an effect in between them as well.

These geographic and voting pattern details matter when it comes to one of the region’s most closely-fought legislative seats.

In the decade before the 2022 election, all of Hood River County (along with mostly Republican slices of Multnomah and Clackamas) was located in the 52nd House District, and all of Wasco County (along with several other north-central Oregon counties, generally strongly Republican) in the 57th District.

The 2021 redistricting nudged the 57th District toward the southeast, expelling the precincts around The Dalles. Those are in the redistricted 52nd District, which was already closely split between the parties and lost some marginally Democratic territory in the Portland metro area.

This put the balance in this swing district in the new territory of The Dalles. In the 2022 election Republican Jeff Helfrich won three of the four counties in the 52nd District but lost Hood River overwhelmingly, for a narrow district-wide win of 52.5%. In 2024, he won again but by even less, 51.8%; the Wasco County precincts edged a little more Democratic that year.

This year, Helfrich is running instead for the Senate in the 26th District, where Republican margins are a little stronger. The two major candidates to replace him in the House are Republican Scott Hege and Democrat Hank Sanders, both winners of contested primaries.

Not much of a demographic change would be needed in this district to create an almost perfectly even playing field. This could turn out to be one of the last legislative seats in Oregon decided after election day in November.

 

The disaster then

Almost anyone who lived in eastern Idaho half a century ago probably could tell you where they were midday on June 5, 1976. It was a local equivalent to 9/11 or November 22, 1963.

It was the day the Teton Dam broke. The day a wall of water smashed through the region, killing 11 people and leaving more than $2 billion - in 1976 dollars - in its wake.

The dam was located along the Teton River, a tributary of the Snake River, northeast of Idaho Falls and a few miles from Newdale, where the country turned mountainous. It was one of the last dams built during the Bureau of Reclamation’s era of ferociously go-go western dam construction. By then a long string of dams already had been built throughout the Snake River system, from American Falls and Palisades to Milner and the Hells Canyon dams. Teton completed the list.

Farmers in the upper Snake River valley, around Rexburg and St. Anthony especially, felt the massive reclamation system developed through the first half of the 20th century missed their area and didn’t give them enough water storage for irrigation. Early federal studies of the idea of damming the Teton date from about a century ago, and the Fremont Madison Irrigation District began lobbying for more water storage - in practical terms, a dam - in 1948. Over the next few years, a complex system of agreements about how to move and use the water, and who would get to do so and when, was worked out. There’s been a good deal of argument in the years since about just how much this water actually was needed; the case against was laid out skillfully by Marc Reisner in his classic book Cadillac Desert about the Bureau of Reclamation projects.

Congress, with active involvement of Idaho’s congressional delegation, pushed through the construction and budgeting authorization in 1964. Years of both planning and legal challenges, on environmental and other grounds, followed until major construction work started in 1972 and was essentially finished by the end of 1975.

The dam didn’t last long. Starting on June 3, 1976, dam workers, federal and contractors, started noting water spouting out from areas around the dam, and just before noon on June 6 the dam burst open. Eight billion gallons of water shot downstream, along the Teton River, then twisting with the Snake River southwest to the American Falls area. Some cities, like Rexburg and Idaho Falls, saw flooding. Others closer to the dam, such as Sugar City, were all but wiped out.

I was living in Caldwell then, but a year after the flood I traveled to the dam site and the hard hit communities. My strongest impressions were both of how sweeping the flood had been - you could see all soil scraped by the water in some places - but also the speed of reconstruction. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in particular poured enormous resources into helping the area recover, and it worked. Today, little evidence of the flood remains.

For all that success, the wreckage of those days shouldn’t be minimized. In his book, Idaho for the Curious, Cort Conley quoted some doggerel from a man who lived in the area then: “If I sound a little bitter, it’s for certain that I am; Because right now the Upper Valley isn't worth a Teton Dam.”

And why should this echo from 50 years ago be a story to ponder today?

This year, all of Idaho either is in or soon faces severe drought; the national water maps developed for the state look drier overall than I can recall seeing them in decades.

When that hits, people in need of water will go looking for answers. And sometimes the obvious answer isn’t the best one.

There aren’t any very easy answers. History tells us as much.

 

More than a local issue

What Oregon voters are thinking right now can sometimes be derived from the top-level election results.

But those opinions are often subject to misinterpretation, another way of saying: Don’t be too quick to draw conclusions. Results from lower-level sections of the ballotts can be as useful. Dozens of local ballot issues were on the May primary election ballot (the secretary of state’s office has a convenient rundown of them on its website), in which voters got to speak directly on a range of subjects.

As an expression of attitude, the massive statewide turndown of the state transportation funding plan — for example — isn’t all Oregon voters had to say on the subjects of taxes, public services and attitudes toward government.

Consider the high-profile indicator question cutting across a bunch of issues and ideologies: Whether people (or how many of them) in Oregon would like to break off and join more conservative and Republican Idaho instead.

Over the last decade or so, a long string of eastern Oregon counties passed ballot issues in favor of Greater Idaho. These ballot issues tended variously either to discuss the split or actually try to push the local jurisdiction to leave Oregon and join the state of Idaho, which politically was closer to their preferences.

For many reasons, this never has been within the range of the realistic, but it does serve as a measure of dissatisfaction. Douglas and Josephine counties voters, who live a very long distance from Boise, have flatly rejected the idea, but most eastern Oregon counties have approved it.

Wallowa County, which borders Idaho, in 2020 turned thumbs down by a margin of 41 votes, but then in 2023 by seven votes approved it.  This year it was back on the ballot in the form of a measure aimed at eliminating the requirement that county commissioners engage in Greater Idaho discussions. This time the result was not close at all: 60.7% of the voters favored calling off the whole idea.

Is the greater Idaho bubble leaking air? There’s now some concrete reason to think so.

Another recent political trend, in many places nationally at least, has been diminished support for educational and cultural funding, but Portland voters seem to run in the other direction. Multnomah County’s Measure 26-261, which sought to renew a 2021 levy backing the Oregon Historical Society (based in downtown Portland), passed overwhelmingly, with 62.6% of the vote. Eugene voters acted similarly on a library ballot measure.

Okay, that’s Portland and Eugene (and Veneta and Scappoose). But over in Baker County, library district patrons opted with a 70.3% vote, to renew a five-year local option tax to benefit the library.

A bigger deal happened in Grant County, where 58.6% of the voters chose (Measure 12-97) to create a new Grant County library district, along with taxing authority for it. The library had been run out of county government, and county officials had talked about zeroing-out the library budget due to a budget deficit. The Oregon Arts Watch group noted, “With the tax district generating stable, dedicated funding for the library, advocates hope the library will be able to be open more hours and that programs cut in the past will be reinstated, including youth programs, community outreach, and a bookmobile.”

Funding for law enforcement, too, got some help in places where that hasn’t always been a given.

True, Clackamas County voters decisively (with more than 60% in opposition) rejected Measure 3-633, a proposed five-year local option levy to provide funding for the sheriff’s office. The sheriff’s office released a statement saying, “Without this dedicated funding source, the level of Sheriff’s Office services our community has come to rely on will change significantly. Patrol staffing, jail operations, investigations, and other critical public safety services will all be impacted. And Sutherlin city voters did opt to repeal a public safety fee.

But beyond that, law enforcement did well around the state. North Bend voters by 49 votes favored (in Measure 6-228) a police safety property tax increase. At Port Orford, 58.7% of voters decide to establish a clear five-year property tax levy to replace a more complicated system involving a monthly “public safety fee.” Voters turned down a five-year fire safety levy in Vernonia but passed one in Warrenton (61.0% favorable).

The message is, don’t judge the intent of voters in a whole state by a single vote. There’s actually more sophistication than such an approach would suggest.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

 

Bonding bottleneck

Primary elections in Idaho are not only about political parties. School districts, and the students they serve, typically have a big stake in them too.

And uneasy sit any sweeping predictions about what the voters in those districts will do.

This year, in the tally assembled by the Idaho Ed News, around the state 24 supplemental levies won voter approval, and four failed. Some plant facilities levies failed too.

Two districts, at Kimberly and Rockland, asked voters for bonding authority for building additions and renovation. Neither came close to passing; in Rockland only about a third of voters were in favor while in Kimberly only about 14% voted yes. That's of a piece with recent history; in the last couple of years just one school bond proposal out of 15 has passed, and it succeeded only after its district (Salmon) had tried a dozen in times in a row unsuccessfully to get the money to fix some extremely unsafe and unhealthy conditions at schools there.

These different categories of funding measures - and there are more than that: Idaho’s school funding system can be, from a taxpayer's point of view, a complicated mess - have different kinds of track records when it comes to passage. (Remember that all of them reach the ballot only after locally elected school boards sign off on them.) The money for all comes from property taxes.

These various types of levies have different rules concerning how the money is raised and how it can be used. The greatest needs often fall in the category of major building or renovations, and those improvements can make a big difference in learning and even test scores.

Education Week magazine concluded “facilities improvements such as HVAC system replacements and plumbing and furnace upgrades can lead to statistically significant test score increases equivalent to 10 percent of the gap between high- and low-income districts’ academic outcomes. In other words, the right kind of school facility upgrade can effectively close 10 percent of the academic achievement gap between high- and low-wealth school districts.”

And often to pay for those, you need bonding authority. Supplemental or plant levies often will not do the job.

And here’s the catch: While supplemental levies need for passage only a simple majority (50% of the vote plus one), and plant facilities generally need 55%, bonds need the extremely high approval bar of two-thirds of the vote - 66.7%. That’s really tough, frequently over the years a killer requirement, since each negative vote counts twice as much as every yes vote.

Idaho is a major outlier on this. A 2023 study found that while three states and the District of Columbia require no election for bonds at all, most do and require a simple majority. Those simple-majority states include Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada and Oregon. Of the others, 10 states require affirmative votes of from 55% to 60%; one of those is Washington state, where the 60% requirement has been under attack by activists for years. But only Idaho requires more than that.

Lowering the threshold to 50% or maybe a little more wouldn't, of course, guarantee bond passage. Many of them would fail anyway, as witness this year’s Rockland and Kimberly requests. But bear in mind that many of those supplemental levies, which require only a simple majority, do in fact pass.

But the proposal at least wouldn’t seem so far out of reach for so many. And you wouldn’t think, even in Idaho, that building and maintaining decent schools would be so terribly controversial.

On the other hand, take it to the Idaho Legislature and see what happens.

 

Non-transferable fury

A couple of decades ago, the comedian Chris Rock led a TV series called “Everybody Hates Chris,” its name a spin on “Everybody Loves Raymond”.

Not to pile on too much, but did Oregon just see the “Everybody Hates ODOT” election?

The context is that practically everyone in the state seemed to expect the transportation tax and fee law passed last year by the legislature to be given the boot by the voters; the only question was how strong that vote would be.

It turned out to be overwhelming: as of mid-evening on Tuesday, 83.1% of Oregon voters opted to throw out the taxes and fees (which already were on hold pending the election).

And it was as across-the-board a decision as you could imagine. No county voted for the package, and none even came close. You could note that the three counties with the highest pro-transportation tax votes were all Democratic places: Benton, Hood River and Multnomah. But look at the percentages in favor even there: 29.3%. 28.1%, and 25% respectively.

In Harney, Lake, Morrow and Sherman counties, the tax plan couldn’t even crack 4% favorable, and most of eastern Oregon, and many other counties, didn’t generate a lot more support.

The package was passed originally as a cobbled-together effort to save basic services provided by the Oregon Department of Transportation. You have to imagine this kind of a mass repudiation making a big impact around its state offices in the weeks to come. Or at least it should.

There’s another side effect almost as worthy of note, though: The part of this political equation that didn’t translate into everybody loving someone else, at least not as much as some people might have thought.

The candidate in question is Ed Diehl, a state legislator from Stayton running for the Republican nomination for governor. Last fall, before he got into the gubernatorial race, he led an effort to put a referendum about the newly-passed transportation revenue plan on the statewide ballot. That effort not only worked but succeeded spectacularly: Within just a few weeks a quarter-million petition signatures were delivered, and the momentum to kill the transportation plan was massive and building.

That kind of success apparently got Diehl looking toward statewide horizons, and he filed for governor. His connection to the referendum was front and center, and his signs made sure to identify him as Ed “No Tax” Diehl. That labeling may have given him a slightly more focused identity than any of the other Republican candidates had, though most if not all of them were on his side in the issue.

To be fair, Diehl did a fair job campaigning and spoke with some depth about other subjects as well. But his identification with the referendum was so strong that it’s hard to imagine he would have been running were it not on the ballot.

So the question was, could it be enough to lift him to the Republican nomination?

You probably can’t say it didn’t help.

As of mid-Tuesday evening, Diehl was at 32.2% of the vote in a 14-candidate field, well behind expected front-runner Christine Drazan (the party’s 2022 nominee for the job) with 42.8% and well ahead of Chris Dudley, who had 15.6% (he was the nominee in 2010). No one else cracked  5%.

Drazan’s win was widespread, taking all but the seven counties Diehl won (Polk, Marion, Linn, Crook, Grant, Harney and Wallowa). Marion and Linn were home turf for Diehl, and the referendum had especially lopsided results in the others.

Put another way, Diehl likely did benefit a little from the association with the referendum, but probably not all that much.

Let’s shift the focus a little now toward November. The big transportation plan pushed by Democratic Governor Tina Kotek now has been dramatically rejected; apparently in anticipation of that, she already has started a process toward planning what to do next.

Will the rejected transportation plan be front and center in the Kotek-Drazan rematch?

Likely, it will be a factor, but its ability to carry its impact into other races may be limited. The governor’s race no doubt will feature talk about transportation funding, and Drazan will quite reasonably talk about the politics and policy of Measure 120. But Kotek likely will come back with other options, and by November the issue may be reframed.

Fury doesn’t seem to be all that transferable. Especially once it’s been given expression and, possibly, has blown itself out.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

 

Rightward move halts, barely

Of all the primary election results in Idaho this week, the one that jumped out at me was not in a contest for senator or governor or any federal, state or local government office at all.

It was for a humble county-level party precinct committee election, the lowest-level and usually least-noticed contests on the ballot, in just one of many hundreds of voting precincts in the state. Unless you’re really active somehow in politics, you probably don’t know the names of your precinct committee representatives (assuming those spots even are filled where you are). Most people don’t.

But they can be important, and the incumbent on the ballot in this case, named Brent Regan, is the best such example in the state. He has been an elected member of the county central committee since 2014, and much of that time as chair. Under his leadership the central committee has become so powerful in Kootenai County across a wide range of political and social areas as to become a dominating force. Regan for years has been one of the leading figures in Idaho Republican politics, closely aligned with the state party leadership, the Idaho Freedom Foundation and the more hardline conservative legislators and other public officials.

So here’s the shocker: On Tuesday, Regan lost that precinct office to a dental anesthesiologist named Rick Montandon, and possibly (not certainly) with it his chairmanship, by 14 votes.

That was not the only change on the central committee, though a few weeks probably will be needed to settle what direction it will take next, and who will lead it. The committee is scheduled for a full meeting on May 28.

In Kootenai County, many people are likely to see this as the end of a political era. They could be right. But in context it looks more like a break in what has been a steady rightward ideological shift, in that county and in the state. The Idaho primary election as a whole seemed to say much the same.

Some early reaction to the results included pronouncements that state politics - meaning for this purpose the Republican Party - had shifted to the point of going into reverse, heading back toward the center and empowering mainstream candidates and officials. (I’ll use here the “mainstream” and “hardline” descriptions that  seem to have caught on of late; substitute your own if you prefer.) You can find evidence for that.

Don’t bother looking for significant evidence in any of the top-of-ballot races, such as they were; the incumbents in the top offices all drew opposition, but none of it was strong enough to come remotely close to seriously threatening any of the incumbents.  Look rather to legislative races, and below.

Maybe the strongest such result was the renomination of Senator Jim Guthrie of McCammon, who was challenged from the hardline side (his race reverberated statewide) after he stood up to that faction on the Senate floor.

But there is much more. The hardcore Gang of Eight is down to a Gang of Three after the primary. Around southern Idaho quite a few from that side either lost their seats, or lost bids to defeat mainstreamers.

The story does not end there, however. You may notice that all these races were in southern Idaho. Up north, several premiere Republican contests went the hardliners’ way. Look for example at Senate District 1 (where Scott Herndon beat Jim Woodward, a reversal of their match in 2024, which reversed their match in 2022 …) and Senate District 6, where very hardline Dan Foreman turned back a strong challenge from Representative Lori McCann. The string of hardline wins in the north goes on from there, the Regan precinct loss notwithstanding.

For those Republican mainstreamers wondering whether the hardcore right tide could ever be pushed back, this election doesn’t constitute a loud shout. But it does equate to a measured: Not easily but yes, it can.

 

Already fixed

If Idahoans want to look at an important part of today’s top political headlines and evaluate how their state stacks up on that front, they can justifiably say at least in one area: We’re among the best.

At least have been. Maybe will continue to be.

The subject is redistricting, which used to be a hot topic (among political junkies if not most people) just once for a brief time every ten years, and only then. Now reapportionment has become a never-ending battle that makes our already junky standards for politics even worse.

The drawing of lines between political districts for purposes of electoral advantage is almost as old as voting. The word gerrymander, either as a noun or verb, referring to corrupt mapping of districts for political gain, goes back to this nation’s founding and a genuinely illustrious founder: Elbridge Gerry, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and the fifth vice president of the nation. He was also governor of Massachusetts and as such signed a state redistricting law including a legislative district so twisty its critics compared it to a salamander, rather, a gerrymander.

As then in Massachusetts, legislatures over the years have done much of the work of remapping districts, which has to be done to keep up with changes in population. (Point of interest: Look up the state legislative district map for the 1970s and compare it to today, and see the fast-declining number of rural districts compared to urban.)

Legislators, having personal interests in these maps - what politician wouldn’t want to choose his own voters? - have in many places often succumbed to the temptation in redrawing districts to benefit themselves or their parties. Sometimes the maps are so bad they’re thrown out by courts.

After the 1980 census the Idaho legislative redistricting process was unusually bitter, and after the 1982 election the Idaho Supreme Court 86’d it and imposed its own, an odd (some thought bizarre) plan that imposed two layers of legislators, one regional and one more local, increasing the number of legislators overall to 126 compared to the 105 the state otherwise has had since the mid-1960s.

Following that fiasco, support grew for turning redistricting over to an independent, bipartisan commission. In 1994 voters approved that idea in a change to the constitution. While some legislators from time to time have explored the idea of retaking control of the process, the commission seems to have general support.  Idaho today is one of the 21 states with some kind of redistricting commission, along with such nearby states as Washington, Montana and California.

The commission system does work well. In Idaho, the maps from these commissions usually generate disagreements from someone, but that’s probably inevitable: The shape of the state and the contours of its population mean that at least a few counter-intuitive districts probably are inevitable. Overall, the maps have been reasonable.

They’ve been fair too on a partisan level: Idaho’s overwhelmingly Republican legislature isn’t that way because of how the districts are drawn, but rather because Idaho just has a lot of Republican-leaning voters. If anything, it would be more possible to draw maps that wipe out most of the few small scraps of territory (Boise and some smaller-population areas) where legislative Democrats do have an advantage. (Idaho’s two congressional districts both already are so Republican there’s almost no way to draw a map to make either of them much less so.)

Therein, in today’s environment, runs the risk: There’s now a growing movement among high partisans (mostly but not exclusively Republican) to wipe out every trace of the opposition, wherever possible. Watch the headlines and you’ll see it in places like South Carolina, Tennessee and Louisiana. In Washington state, where Democrats already hold eight of the 10 congressional seats, there’s some talk about trying to add a ninth, by splitting the super-Democratic Seattle area between a half-dozen or more districts. (No, it’s not likely to actually happen.)

Start down that road and madness ensues, and a whole lot of people who feel unrepresented start to sue, and worse.

Idaho can avoid all that simply by keeping in place the smarter approach it already has.

 

Starting with the problem

Does anyone in Oregon think Measure 120, sustaining last year’s legislation on transportation taxes and fees, will pass? Anyone?

Anyone who does seems to be well hidden, just like any supporters of the measure, the substance of which passed just last year with majority support in the legislature and signature by the governor.

The state’s Democratic political leadership appears to have abandoned it completely. And the Oregon Department of Transportation, where most of the money raised is intended to go, likely isn’t one of the most popular in state government.

The only electoral curiosity left seems to be how few voters will opt to uphold the transportation funding package.

This month’s election will not end the story, of course. It already is beginning anew.

The real question now is whether Oregon leaders will try their same policy development process yet again, or approach transportation funding in a different way that might generate more public support.

Actually, passage of Measure 120 wouldn’t end the story either. During the 2025 session, this complicated round of transportation funding started with this base point (from Democrats at least): $14.6 billion over 10 years is what was needed to meet the state’s transportation needs. The eventual passed legislation (now in the form of Measure 120), provided less than a third of that, $4.3 billion over 10 years. That scale down doesn’t seem to be a result of revised estimates of need, but only of what number could clear the legislature (as that one did only barely). So Measure 120, even if passed, would be far from a panacea.

The question remains what should be done now, without even the recent funding bandaid in place.

The essential problem underlying all this is not hard to understand. Inflation has hit road construction, maintenance and repair hard, and that has combined with a squeeze on the top source of revenue for the work: gas taxes, which are under downward pressure from higher-mileage  and new electric vehicles and (especially recently) overall higher gas prices.

On April 30, a group called by Gov. Tina Kotek met to start considering what to do next. The committee is expected to meet monthly until around the end of the year.

At its first session, it heard reports from a variety of transportation professionals. An ODOT speaker warned that soon, without more funding, the agency may be reduced to paving interstate routes and not much else. An Association of Oregon Counties speaker said that, “Without new revenue over about the next five years, more than 4,500 miles of county roads will go without critical maintenance work and then will quickly deteriorate beyond repair.”

Presumably, the group will come up with a new set of numbers — some new collection of taxes and fees — for delivery to the 2027 legislative session. Its mission appears to include finding a new funding model for Oregon transportation, which means shifting but also increasing the state’s taxes, fees or other money sources.

At that point, once such a recommendation surfaces, the legislature presumably will try to do what it did in the last (special) session. After that, some groups of people in Oregon — especially those who might wind up paying more, as someone would have to — will mobilize against it.

That easily could result in another referendum in two years leading to another dead transportation package. And Oregon’s transportation system will continue to deteriorate.

The best route to an answer – and the working group could help lead this – could be to first clearly and specifically, in detail, describe the problem and what will happen without more funding, and initially holding off on the solution.

It’s counterintuitive: The usual and often the best approach for governments — and for columnists too, for that matter — is to link the problem and the solution, lest the problem seem unsolvable.

The deterioration of Oregon’s roads may be an exception, because all of the funding solutions in view seem vulnerable to the same criticisms likely to doom Measure 120.

What if the transportation group were to focus exclusively, at the beginning, on defining the nature of the problem, and at first putting stabs at a solution on a back burner?

And then suppose they took that discussion around the state, from region to region, bringing the receipts: Here is what is likely to happen locally, over the next five or ten years, to roadways in this area if funding isn’t somehow increased significantly. Central to making this work would be conducting these efforts as high-profile and broadly inclusive, as possible, with local voices heard at length. The quarter-million petition signers who put Measure 120 on the ballot should be specifically invited.

Then — and only then — the group should pose the question: Given this situation, what do you want to do? Is it your choice to drive on deteriorating roads? If not, then how do you propose to fix them? Where should the money come from?

If the public (and Republicans) were more broadly and openly brought into this process, legislative candidates – during the upcoming campaign season – might be pressured to weigh in with answers as well. Out of all this, something approaching a solution with public buy-in just might emerge.

It’s worth a try. For now, well-meaning efforts developed from the top down and through committees all seem doomed to failure. Leadership of a different sort seems to be called for here.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.