Posts published in “Oregon column”

The 2000 report on hate groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center showed five hate groups active in Oregon. Its 2024 counterpart report just released this month found 24.

The difference is a matter of apples and oranges between these reports, which reflects a changing landscape in the area of extremism and hate groups. The SPLC’s traditional focus on hate groups — it started as an anti-racist tracker and researcher, after all — has been expanded to include groups more devoted to relatively extreme positions on various cultural and political issues.

Inclusion of anti-government groups, as distinct from groups more specifically focused on race, religion or other identifiers, has changed and even muddied the picture. Oregon’s experience — as the new report shows — suggests how.

Hate groups have been a factor in Oregon for a long time. The state’s early founders included many sympathizers with the Confederacy, and a century ago, Oregon was the number two state in the nation for Ku Klux Klan activity. It has been more notable in recent decades for pushback against bigotry, but hatred has not disappeared.

The SPLC long has been a national touchstone for tracking angry extremist groups. It said its current report “documented 1,371 hate and anti-government extremist groups across the United States. These groups use political, communication, violent, and online tactics to build strategies and training infrastructure to divide the country, demoralize people, and dismantle democracy.”

They’re not all exactly “hate groups,” however.

A minority of the groups were labeled as anti-immigrant (Oregonians for Immigration Reform), anti-LGBTQ (Pacific Justice Institute), “general hate” (Proud Boys and Rense Radio Network), Neo-Völkisch (Asatru Folk Assembly), and white nationalist (Active Club, Occidental Observer, Patriot Front). The Asatru Folk Assembly formerly was called the Viking Brotherhood.

But the real growth has been in the anti-government category.

The SPLC categorizes more than half of those listed in Oregon as anti-government (American Patriot Party, ASN Study Guide & University, American State Nationals, Constitution Party, Embassy of Heaven, Moms for Liberty Deschutes and Douglas, Oregon Parents Involved in Education, Oregon Statewide Jural Assembly, Parents Rights in Education Oregon, People’s Rights, State of Jefferson, American State Assembly, Timber Unity).

In 2000, of the five extremist groups listed for Oregon, three were neo-Nazi and two were racist-skinhead. In 2012, the nine groups cited for Oregon included white nationalist, Christian identity, Black separatist, neo-Nazi, racist skinhead and general hate, but none described as principally anti-government. Even as those groups steadily expanded over successive years, to 15 in 2021, no anti-government groups were listed. Since 2021, the number of groups other than “anti-government” has diminished or stabilized.

The makeup of the list changed dramatically in 2022, and has remained so. The previous roster of hate groups remained similar but diminished slightly, while in 2022 a large group of anti-government groups were added. You can find similar trends in other states.

SPLC said of that, “For the last several years, the conspiracy theories and claims made by anti-government groups have penetrated the mainstream, making extremism and fascism central to discourse and politics in the country. In 2021, the conspiratorial and dubious view of government was pervasive, as evidenced by the movement’s popular rhetoric on such issues as COVID-19 regulations, local school curriculum, the ‘Big Lie’ of voter fraud, and border security. These views largely continued in 2024, but with a marked and troubling rise in anti-government activity against inclusive public schools and the continued incorporation of white Christian nationalist ideas. The Jan. 6 insurrection was the most public moment for the movement since the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995.”

Many Oregonians will point out that however extreme some positions taken by some of these groups may be, many are largely political actors, such as Moms for Liberty, Timber Unity and the State of Jefferson. The Constitution Party is a political organization in Oregon and many other states, fields candidates and argues for policies recognizably within our political system.

One of those listed for Oregon in recent years is not an organization but rather a podcast, or bundle of podcasts, based at Ashland, called the Rense Radio Network.

There’s a clear argument for tracking extremist groups, which can in some cases make cause with hate groups. But they still aren’t quite the same thing.

So what should count as a hate group? When does a political stance — albeit a harder-edged and more extreme one — slide over into something that fits more neatly with hatred and bigotry?

And should the two be meshed together with only categorical distinctions?

Maybe the SPLC will come up with some new thoughts by the time its 2025 report comes out.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

 

The switch has flipped on the last stretch of this year’s Oregon legislative session and the central dynamic for the last and busiest phase ahead has been set. So, possibly, has the campaign dynamic for next year’s legislative elections.

Part of it involves a raucous economic debate over the administration of Donald Trump.

Most of the rest concerns how little predictability exists for conditions going forward.

The kickoff was a standard trigger of the Oregon legislative schedule, the release of the May Economic and Revenue Forecast from the Office of Economic Analysis. The last such report during this year’s session, it will form the basis for the legislature’s decisions on how much to spend and how much income should be brought in — through existing or new taxes. Normally, it can provide a clear direction for inking in policies and budgeting plans evolving up to this point.

The headline from this new report does say that less money is likely to be wrung out of existing state taxes than had been expected in previous estimates — a decrease not in revenue but in what was previously expected.

But it also emphasized a deep well of unknowns.

The report’s summary said it “comes at a time of exceptionally heightened uncertainty. Not only is it too soon to understand how the economy is responding to actions already taken — but, more broadly, the ultimate scope of critical policy decisions remains unknown. For example, even preliminary economic impacts from tariffs are unlikely to materialize in vital statistics such as employment or consumer prices for another month or two. Further, final details on tax reforms and budget reductions are only vaguely coming into view, and the eventual effective tariff rate will depend on the success of negotiations which have not yet occurred.”

The report did not specifically say a recession is likely — it even included a number of reasons it may not happen — but figured chances of a downturn at 25%, a possibility higher than usual.

The uncertainty is key. One forecaster said, “I can’t remember more tumultuous circumstances just going into producing this particular forecast.”

Government budgeters typically respond to uncertainty by budgeting lower amounts, to protect against revenue shortfalls.

Here is how the Hillsboro School District described the fallout: “What this means is that the Legislature has less discretionary revenue with which to make new investments in the 2025-27 biennium. That, coupled with ongoing uncertainty about federal funding to states for a variety of initiatives and programs, will likely limit additional support being directed to K-12 education.”

Coming weeks will be a budgeting session for gamblers: How confident are you of what conditions will apply at the end of this year and a year from now? Do you cut state spending, or raise taxes, when one or both may not be necessary? Those concerns may come against a background in which the state may be called on to help backfill long-expected federal help which is being withdrawn.

The Republican take on the budget appears to position this year’s budgeting cycle essentially like any other, with problems a function of the majority party’s inability to budget well enough. Senator Bruce Starr, R-Dundee, said for example, “This should be a wake-up call. With a half-billion-dollar shortfall, lawmakers must focus on core services and cut the waste.”

Representative E. Werner Reschke, R-Malin, said in a constituent newsletter, “Democrats need a doom and gloom message so that they can justify their plans for tax increases. If the headlines had been ‘State to receive record revenues for upcoming biennium’ do you think their new taxes message would be accepted by Oregonians? Of course not.”

The problem with those approaches is the unusual level of uncertainty in the latest estimates, something sharply different from past cycles. But they are likely to emerge in next year’s campaigns.

Democrats argued the circumstances are unusual, pointing to the Trump Administration, and especially its tariffs and spending actions, as the prime mover of uncertainty. House Speaker Julie Fahey, for example, said, “today’s revenue forecast confirms what economists have been telling us: the Trump administration’s reckless decisions are damaging our economy. … Oregon is particularly sensitive to the fallout from federal trade policies that have been changing on a whim since Trump’s inauguration.”

Look for the remaining month-plus of the legislative session to turn into a debate over the effect the Trump administration is having on Oregon. The contours of that discussion will likely shape politics in Oregon and beyond all the way to next November.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

(image)

 

No easy or obvious solution will resolve one of the top and less-acknowledged crises in America, the collapse of local and regional news reporting. Whether Oregon Senate Bill 686 passes or fails, it should at least open a discussion about improving the ability of Oregonians to get the information they need to govern themselves.

The problem is obscured a little by the fact that most news outlets in the state haven’t disappeared completely, and a few new ones (the Oregon Capital Chronicle, for one example) have arisen.

Good journalism is still being done in the state, but much less comprehensively than two or three decades ago. But the newsgathering capacity is a sliver of what it was at the century’s turn, the number of journalists in newsrooms way down. Broadcasters have seen serious cutbacks too.

There’s little coverage now of local city councils, county commissions, school boards and more. Local angles on the work of legislators and state and federal officials is nearly gone.

The larger picture is of a balloon, once full, but now with its air mostly having run out.

This would be only a business problem except that it means we’re not getting the information about our government, our politics, our society, our problems and our successes as we did not long ago. That gap, and the rise of misinformation to massive levels, has become one of our great national crises.

Enter SB 686, which intends to at least provide some help. It is not a totally new idea, being a variation on similar attempts in other places (California and Canada for two), to direct public assistance toward civic journalism.

The operating idea comes from one of the (many) reasons for journalism’s economic collapse, the use of locally-created news reports with little or no compensation in online media platforms — think here of Google and Facebook, with others as well. The idea is to force those platforms, which have been swimming in profits in recent years, to help pay for production of local news either through fees to the organizations, or by way of arbitration, or a contribution to a new Oregon Civic Information Consortium.

The bill, which at this writing seems to be progressing steadily through the legislature, has understandably drawn lots of testimony. Critics, including the social media platforms, have raised legal questions about it, and the tech giants have suggested that Oregon news reports might be restricted or even banned on places like Facebook or Google. Other questions include how much money might be involved, and exactly how it would be spent. ($122 million has been one estimate noted, but that’s not at all definitive.)

Less discussed: What results Oregon news consumers might see, provided the bill passes and survives legal challenges.

If any of the big platforms — from Facebook to Google — did decide to block Oregon news, that might send most Oregon news readers elsewhere, and maybe back in larger numbers to Oregon news sites. Many of Oregon’s newspapers and broadcasters have highly active websites that could become a boon for those companies with an additional readership push.

A shift away from the mega-platforms also might reshuffle access to news. National news has had aggregate sites like Drudge or Memeorandum for years, and many people have used them. Oregon has some lesser-known aggregators too, such as the right-leaning Oregon Watchdog, and these might become more popular, or a new generation of them might be developed.

Suppose the platforms agreed to pay up? That’s a realistic prospect; California and Canada, after launching legislative efforts that loosely resemble Oregon’s, have extracted money from them for journalism. The platforms are understandably concerned about similar initiatives in 50 states and beyond, but the reality is they can easily afford it.

How much good would it do? In some cases, newsrooms might be beefed up somewhat, and in other places where newsgathering has collapsed, it might be reinvigorated, at least somewhat.

The upside looks good, and the downside risk doesn’t seem large.

Consider a small city in a small county whose newspaper has disappeared or has hardly any remaining presence. If two journalists were hired, with money for training and support, that could make a lot of difference, resulting in significant coverage of the area. The remaining questions would involve how to get people to check it out.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

(image)

The idea of Greater Idaho — splitting off most of eastern Oregon to join with the state of Idaho — isn’t going to fly. It won’t happen.

So here’s another idea:

The Autonomous Area of Eastern Oregon. And Western too, for good measure.

This concept was not invented in the deep recesses of a pundit’s mind. It comes from a recently introduced piece of legislation by a Republican lawmaker in the state of Washington.

Washington has a regional dynamic similar to Oregon. The bulk of its population is west of the Cascades and as a region votes clearly Democratic, while the geographically larger but less populated territory to the east votes Republican — with all the correlating social and economic considerations that implies. Washington’s east side hasn’t organized a highly visible join-Idaho effort the way Oregon’s has, but the proposal has surfaced occasionally.

A related but different idea emerged in this year’s Washington legislative session. Rep. Rob Chase, R-Spokane Valley in House Bill 2085 proposed keeping Washington state intact, and its congressional representation unchanged, but splitting most governing within the state.

The bill described it this way: “The legislature intends to divide the state into two autonomous regions, the Puget Sound region and the Columbia region, by constitutional amendment. Each region would provide regional governors, regional legislators, and regional judges. The state of Washington will remain a single state for purposes of federal election, as proposed in New York Senate Bill 2023-S3093.”

Presumably, that would mean splitting the key regional elections (both autonomous areas would have governors and legislatures, for example) while both vote under a common system for federal offices. Laws and regulations and finances would be affected as well.

Chase said of this, “We would have better representation that takes into account the ideals, principles, priorities, beliefs, and values found in the populace that it serves. Isn’t this what our Founding Fathers envisioned when establishing our Democratic Republic?”

This approach isn’t something familiar to American government: There are no formal “autonomous regions” in the United States. They’re more common in other parts of the globe, however, including the Caucasus, China and even a slice of Finland. Greenland, famously, is an autonomous region: Largely self-governing but under the national umbrella of Denmark.

On an American state level it’s an ambitious idea, but it may be within the purview of the state legislature. It probably would require a state constitutional amendment, but — because states do have some leeway in setting up their own governments — it might not require federal approval. If the legislature and voters approved, it probably (we’d have to see what the courts would say) could happen.

The bill didn’t go anywhere in the Washington legislature this year, nor should we expect any voter action. Chase said he introduced it now mainly to get a head start for a future push.

But the Greater Idaho folks have no doubt heard of it, and the idea of a similar bill introduction in Salem may be floated soon if it hasn’t been already. The process might even be simpler in Oregon: While Washington requires constitutional amendments to come from the legislature, Oregon allows them via citizen initiatives.

So how might this play out in Oregon?

Imagine the Greater Idaho group or some other organization petitioning for a constitutional amendment to be approved, or not, by the voters. This would have a considerable advantage over the kind of long-term and probably hopeless slog to change state boundaries. If structured carefully, the issue might be resolved in a single election through a change in the state constitution. If it passed, it would happen through the approval of the voters, which would give the idea powerful legitimacy statewide.

Getting most Oregonians to vote in favor, of course, would be difficult.

You’ll also notice the reference to “structured carefully.” Plenty of tricky issues would have to be addressed. We might be talking about three governors in Oregon, one for the whole state and one each for the east and the west. How do they relate to each other, and to the federal government, and what relative powers would they have? You could ask similar questions about the Legislature. Would there still be a statewide legislature, and if so, what could it and could it not do?

What might be the differences in tax and spending? What about federal money coming to the state of Oregon: How would it be divided? How would law enforcement and safety agencies coordinate? If criminal and other laws were different (which would seem to be part of the point of having an autonomous region), what about extradition? What would be the authority of whatever remained of a statewide Oregon government, because there would have to be one if only to deal with other states and the feds.

The autonomous idea is more complex than it first sounds. If Greater Idaho is watching the action across the Columbia, they may want to pay attention to how legislator Chase started to field the questions that are sure to multiply.

This column first appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

Possibly no place in Oregon has a more rugged, individualistic, even anti-governmental attitude than Burns, a small city in the middle of the state’s southeast desert country.

This is an area of old-style ranchers and resource industries, or at least has been. It votes as conservative and Republican as it can, and political people who argue for smaller government and less by way of cooperative efforts are those who get the votes. It’s a cowboy ethic kind of place.

The recent big event in Burns might not demolish that world view. But there’s a fair chance it could generate some second thoughts.

An absence of government action, regulation and ownership and of a strong mutual cooperative effort among people locally -— in contrast to what one person called “kind of a group-hug scenario” — is why, in late March and early April, a lot of Burns was overrun by a flood.

Such a disaster might have been notable in other places, but it overwhelmed Burns. According to the American Red Cross, the flooding abated only after several weeks, affected 952 homes (some of those may have been on Burns Paiute Tribe lands), and the flood area ran through most of the downtown area. Burns is home to just 2,736 people as of 2023, and there are just 1,438 total homes.

The city reported “a complete sewer failure” from the Paiute Reservation to the Triangle Park, and other infrastructure was hit too. Evacuation orders affected almost half of the people in town.

This was not damage to only a small part of the community but, directly or indirectly, to all of it. And it happened in a place more than an hour’s drive from any other city as large, and two hours away from any that are larger. Help is not close by.

Beginning the task of making sure this doesn’t happen again starts with understanding why this flood hit so hard.

Its natural causes are clear and not unusual. Although the Burns area is arid, heavy rains occur periodically, and the right timing for snowpack melt in the region can cause the Silvies River, which flows from the mountains to the north, to run high.

The river borders a residential area on the northeast side of town, and high flows there are intended to be contained by an old and informally developed system of levies.

Actually, there is no system in a comprehensive sense. The 2.4 miles of levees — barriers against the water, to keep it channeled — stretching across the north and east side of town apparently were built not by a government or formal organization but by local residents, and the approach was not thoroughly organized. Even the history is foggy: There are no clear records of when the levees were built, or exactly by whom.

A 2019 report submitted to Harney County officials warned that the levees needed upgrading and repair, but that didn’t happen. One reason is that no one specific person or group had the specific obligation to respond: No federal, state or local agency or private entity, and none had the specific authority to enter the private property along the river to make improvements. Everyone could pass it off to someone else.

The do-it-yourself approach remains in place today. During the flooding, a public notice from the city asked residents to stop diverting water onto other properties.

“Do not erect barriers in the streets to divert the water,” the city’s notice said. “This can be a hazard as these are evacuation routes and you could be charged with disorderly conduct in the 2nd degree in addition to being liable for any damages to the neighboring property or properties by that diversion. We understand that these are very scary and unsure times and people are wanting to save their homes and property, but please do not put yourself or other people in danger or damage someone else’s property by trying to do so.”

This isn’t unique to Burns.

Colin Rowan, planning director for the Urban Flood Safety and Water Quality District in Portland, told Oregon Public Broadcasting that the kind of levee system Burns has had can be found in many places all across Oregon including the Willamette Valley, many built a century or more ago.

“There’s not clear responsibility,” Rowan told OPB. “There’s also sometimes unclear funding. How would you actually pay for it? Even if it was privately-owned land or publicly-owned land, they might not even know that repairs are needed.”

Sometimes organized and expert help is what’s needed. Even in communities like Harney County.

This column originally appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

(image)

 

What do you do with legislation that cuts into the middle of how Oregonians live their lives, when most people want it but many are sharply opposed?

The short answer: Test it, when that’s possible. Launch a suggested solution, but keep specifics general enough that details emerge through trial and error. That can mean requiring local governments to act but encouraging them to become the laboratories where we learn what works well or not.

Today’s subject is cell phone use in schools, during school hours, for which Oregon House Bill 2251 passed the House on a mostly party-line 36-21 vote this week. It is aimed at banning cell phone use throughout the school day, and for the moment, it seems well positioned to become law.

A House committee already considered more than a half-dozen amendments and more are expected in the Senate, but the suggestion here is to simplify.

This is one of the hottest subjects this year in the Oregon legislature. It goes right to the heart of how Oregon’s school children and their parents have been accustomed to organizing their days.

At the same time, many parents and children are accustomed to being able to communicate instantly, and many students would not like the idea of giving up their phones for so many of their waking hours. The first submitted testimony on the new Oregon bill, in opposition to it, declared it “a solution in search of a problem. Let the school districts govern themselves.”

But the large number of people saying the problem is real, and the limited action on it by local districts, suggest that isn’t enough. Gov. Tina Kotek and the state Department of Education have registered support for restrictions; the department last year issued proposed model policies, without specifically imposing any.

Pressure is strong for kicking the phones at least partly out of the classroom. A Pew Research Center survey from last October found that more than two-thirds of American adults favor banning the phones during class. Just over a third support the prohibition for the whole school day. That’s a tell: Most Americans favor some restrictions, but with nuance. School employees are more lopsided; almost two-thirds of American high school teachers said cell phones have become a major distraction and impediment to learning.

Oregon’s Legislature is hardly alone considering bans. As of the end of last year, 11 states regulated (not necessarily banned outright) cell phone use during school hours, and at least 27 other states had introduced legislation on the subject. Since then, Idaho has added to the numbers, in the last few weeks enacting a cell phone limitation bill. In still other states, governors or agencies have imposed orders on the subject. School cell restrictions are becoming standard around the country.

The districts around the state are a policy jumble. Some have prohibition policies of various kinds in place; others do not. Portland Public Schools on Jan. 7 approved a rule similar to the current bill. Some are studying options. The Reynolds School District put together a work group which concluded, “We recommend an all-day ban on personal device use for grades K-12.” The state does not track comprehensively what the local districts do about this.

HB 2251, which is intended to require districts to ban use of “personal electronic devices”  would be more specific. It requires school districts to adopt a cell phone policy, and sets requirements for elements that must be included, and a lengthy list of exemptions (mainly medical, emergency and educational) to phone bans.

How all those specifics will play out is unclear. What the Oregon legislature could do, possibly ratcheting down the heat, is something like what the Idaho Legislature just did.

The Idaho measure, Senate Bill 1032, was simply a broad mandate to create local rules on the use of cell phones. Its key section said, “The provisions of this section shall not be construed to require a local school board or public charter school to adopt a policy that prohibits all use of electronic communications devices by students. However, local school boards and public charter schools may adopt a policy prohibiting students from carrying electronic communications devices in school buildings and on school grounds or premises during school hours. A local school board or public charter school that adopts such policy shall be considered to have met the requirement to adopt a policy under this section.”

Presumably, that will generate a good deal of action and discussion in school districts statewide, and by the time of next year’s legislative session, educators and legislators will have a clearer sense of what’s working and where the glitches are.

Oregon may also find that simpler, for now, is better. A legislature that requires local districts to set up rules will get a much clearer answer by next year than they could get from evaluating reactions to a one-size-fits-all bill.

This column originally appeared on the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

(image)

One of the first Oregon impacts of this year’s international trade wars came to our house in a pleasing way: in the form of a few bottles of good wine, gifts from friends who work in that industry. We live in the north Willamette wine country, where personal connections to the wine industry are not hard to find.

Those bottles were emblematic, though, of a bigger situation not nearly so benign.

Some weeks ago, as wineries in our region packed and sent crates of wine north to Canada as they long have done, they encountered a surprise. The border was as far as many of them got, and their wine had to be trucked back, unsold, to Oregon.

Canada had essentially stopped accepting alcohol from the U.S., including Oregon alcohol. The response and rules at the border have shifted, but sales are being heavily impacted by President Donald Trump’s recent tariff announcements.

Many Oregon winemakers are accumulating a wine surplus. Some, probably small but unknown numbers of cases, may be turning into giveaways, pleasant for the recipients but lousy for a wine producer’s bottom line.

The massive worldwide tariffs Trump promised — and then announced he would pause for 90 days — can be expected to further dampen the state’s wine trade. Wine is a smaller part of Oregon’s trade picture than some other commodities, but it offers a useful insight into how the tariffs are affecting the state. And it is a major industry in Oregon, with about 1,100 wineries statewide.

Last week, a friend who had worked in wine import and export described for me how the system worked.

When shipped internationally, the product changed ownership — from the producer or wholesaler to my friend’s own company — before it crossed the border, so that when the shipment cleared customs, his company paid the tariff or fees (where they existed).

That was the first impact of a tariff. Companies ordinarily factor tariffs into the retail price, and individual wine buyers ultimately pay most or all of that cost. That boosted purchase price is how most people experience tariffs.

The existence of a tariff doesn’t keep something from crossing national lines, and a small tariff may not matter much, but large ones can change the business incentives for all parties.

Oregon wine makers might in one way, at first, benefit from higher tariffs on the countries (such as Italy, Chile, Australia, Argentina and many more) that import wine into the U.S where they are imposed.

That might drive some domestic wine drinkers toward more American producers, which could help Oregon wine producers, though it usually has the effect of raising domestic prices as well.

Other aspects of higher border-crossing prices are likely to cut against the industry.

Some of those are smaller and might not be especially visible outside the industry, such as higher prices paid by the Oregon industry for imported barrels, steel for supplies and equipment, production equipment and more.

Oregon’s leading export targets overall are (in order) Mexico, China and Canada, and about 81,000 jobs are reliant on that export trade. The impact on trade may be easier to observe in the wine industry, because close to half of all Oregon wine exports go (or in recent years have gone) to Canada: In 2022, that was 73,323 cases of a total export of 162,939.

“We’re just watching it play out in real time, and it’s not pretty,” Alex Sokol Blosser, president of Sokol Blosser Winery in Dayton, Oregon, said in a recent KGW interview. “All that business we worked for, and the president lit a match to it.”

Anne Amie vineyards, near Carlton, has been moving from local tasting room sales toward an all-wholesale model, and one significant element of that has been a large prospective sale — thousands of cases — to a buyer in Quebec.

Negotiations had been active for months, but after recent Trump trade announcements, Canadians ended them. Other wineries have had comparable experiences.

There are ripple effects through many other industries as well.

The US Wine Trade Alliance argued on April 2 that “restaurants will suffer, domestic producers will face new obstacles in bringing their wines to market, and retailers, importers, and distributors across the country will be placed at serious risk. With their biggest profit center decimated, many restaurant investors will decide to take their money elsewhere.”

Last week, thousands of Oregonians showed at up the Hands Off anti-Trump rallies around the state, and plenty of signs criticized the new tariffs. I didn’t see any that complained specifically about administration impacts on the wine industry. But it wouldn’t be surprising if, in coming weeks, they start to appear.

This column first appeared in the Oregon Capital Chronicle.

(image/Oregon Department of Agriculture)