There’s no good reason for Richardson to veto the legislation — if the public’s interest is his motive
Gov. Bill Richardson has every reason in the world to sign a bill that would open conference committees and many other legislative meetings to the public, and no reason to veto it — if the public’s interest is his motive.
If he has ulterior motives — such as using a public-policy proposal he has endorsed for years as a bargaining chip with powerful lawmakers who would like to see it die — that’s a different story. The fact that he is backpedaling on his pledge to sign a bill that would open the meetings to the public now that it’s finally made it to his desk suggests that the second, more sinister motive is the one in Richardson’s head and heart.
And that’s a huge disappointment.
The issue is simple: Lawmakers have historically closed the doors and hid from the public when they have to convene conference committees — meetings of a handful of House and Senate members appointed to hash out disputes over differences between versions of bills that have passed both chambers. They have also closed many other meetings, including executive sessions of the budget committees.
Conference committees are quite powerful. Laws can be changed and money can be appropriated, all without the public knowing about it.
House Bill 393, sponsored by Rep. Joseph Cervantes, D-Las Cruces, aims to change that. Under the proposal, which was approved by the Legislature in the session that just ended, those meetings would be open to the public.
The issue is really a no-brainer. There’s no good reason the Legislature should be allowed to conduct the public’s business outside the view of the public.
Richardson knows that, and he has repeatedly endorsed the proposal in the past.
‘Loopholes’ explanation is bogus
So why the backpedaling? The governor’s office says “loopholes” in the bill concern him, but only cites one: The bill changes the law to require open conference committees, but allows the Legislature to override the law and re-close the meetings with a rule change that would require approval of two-thirds of House and Senate members.
To cite that as a fundamental flaw that makes the bill worthy of veto consideration would be laughable, if this weren’t such serious business.
First, it’s unlikely that two-thirds of legislators would vote to close the meetings. It’s likely that, once they’re open, the meetings are open for good. It’s one thing to vote against more transparency, as many have done in the past. It’s another thing entirely to vote for less transparency, which is what they would be doing by voting to re-close the meetings. Such a vote would be ammunition in future elections.
Second, the rule-change provision was necessary to gain enough support for the proposal to pass. This has been a perennially controversial issue, one that has always been voted down. This bill is infinitely better than no bill at all.
Given all that, I find it difficult to believe that Richardson’s public explanation for backpedaling on the bill is the true reason.
The sad reality
The reality, I suspect, is this: The Senate president pro tem, majority leader and minority leader were in the minority in voting against HB 393. And the speaker of the House, Richardson’s closest ally in Santa Fe, was hugely embarrassed as a result of the first open conference committee in the state’s history on the last morning of the session.
The likely explanation for Richardson’s backpedaling is that he’s being pushed by opponents of open conference committees. And Richardson, a dealmaker who usually thinks about how he can benefit before he thinks about the public’s interest, is entertaining the idea of vetoing the bill.
This is New Mexico politics at its most slimy, folks. The Legislature has spoken clearly with a unanimous vote in the House and a 33-8 vote in the Senate in favor of opening the meetings to the public. But some influential lawmakers and an often self-serving governor have the power to derail what’s in the best interest of the public.
Sad. Here’s to hoping a moment of conscience — or, absent that, a great deal of public pressure — leads the governor to sign the bill.