Last week, following a six-hour closed-door meeting of the state Assembly’s most prominent Democrats, Speaker Anthony Rendon and Assembly Member Robert Rivas issued simultaneous press releases.
“I am proud to retain the support of my colleagues to continue as speaker of the California Assembly and leader of our Democratic caucus,” Rendon declared.
“I am honored that my Democratic colleagues have placed their trust in me to lead the Assembly,” said Rivas.
The seemingly contradictory statements reflected a political agreement that had apparently settled a months-long conflict over who would occupy the Assembly’s top post.
Months earlier, Rivas had declared that he had the votes to oust Rendon but the speaker refused to step aside and a power struggle ensued, with each man trying to get as many of his supporters elected as possible.
Eventually, just two days after the election, a deal was struck. Rendon, speaker for the past six years, would remain in the position until June 30, 2023, after which Rivas would assume it.
Rendon will be forced out of the Legislature by term limits in 2024 and so, as a practical matter, he would have had to stop speaking sometime next year anyway. He would now be leaving the office a few months early, but at least he wouldn’t suffer the ignominy of being forced out.
Rivas, on the other hand, will achieve his long-awaited goal of becoming speaker with all that entails in terms of power over the inner workings of the California Assembly and their impact on legislation.
Whether the deal or what it brings makes any real difference to nearly 40 million Californians is problematic. There are few, if any, ideological differences between the two Latino politicians and the most interesting aspect of moving from Rendon to Rivas is that the latter represents a rural district in the Salinas Valley, interrupting the tendency of legislative leaders to hail from cities big
Speaker Rivas would be amazing if only he would do something about the growing tendency of the Legislature to become more secretive in its handling of public business.
Secrecy was the legislative approach for more than a century, but in the 1970s, procedural reform took root. The hitherto opaque process of drafting the state budget was opened up to public and media scrutiny, new laws were passed to shed light on campaign contributions and lobbying activity, and public access was given to the Legislature’s internal spending up to age
The reform era lasted more than three decades, reaching its peak when voters took away legislators’ power to redraw their own districts after each census and gave it to an independent commission.
Over the last decade, as the Democrats secured legislative dominance, they blocked public access and input.
Legislative hearings on bills have been severely curtailed. Pro and con advocates are only given a few minutes to speak and public evidence has been virtually abolished.
Every year, hundreds of bills are locked up in the “appropriation committees” in both houses and their fate is simply announced without any explanation.
After Democrats persuaded voters to eliminate two-thirds votes on budgets, they began loading budget “trailer bills” with countless special interest goodies and major policy changes that avoided even cursory public input.
Trailer budgets and bills are written entirely in secret and the public is only given 72 hours to look at thousands of pages of dense legislative language before they are passed into law—and only then because the 72-hour notice is required hour for the 2016 ballot measure.
If Rivas really wants to make a difference, he would allow some sunshine into the increasingly dark Capitol.
CalMatters is a public interest journalism initiative committed to explaining how the California state Capitol works and why it matters. For more stories from Dan Walters, visit Commentary.