A broken system

Whenever I speak to a community group, I like to get a feel for public opinion.

Lately, it's been hard to find a hand that doesn't go up when I ask who would support a ballot initiative to raise the gaming tax. In fact, the hands fly upward even before I can explain how much the initiative seeks to raise or who is behind the effort.

But just as popular as the gaming tax proposal is the "throw the bums out" that often drives reform attempts such as term limits or campaign finance restrictions.

Twice in as many weeks when I mentioned the state's budget problems and Nevada's out-of-session Legislature, people I've spoken to have complained about the do-nothing lawmakers as much as the distracted and disaffected governor.

So last week over pancakes at an IHOP, I asked the group if anyone knew how much Nevada's legislators made? A retiree from Michigan offered a guess: "Ninety-three thousand?"

Actually it's $7,800, for two years. That's $3,900 annually.

The 30 ladies were incredulous. Surely they get benefits, franking privileges, housing? Something else, they argued. Well, not really. When you add it up, it's not even minimum wage.

That hasn't stopped a rush of candidates from plunking down C-notes at the county registrar's office this month. Some are the perennial candidate types. Some are new blood. Some talk about infrastructure or the budget.

None of them really talks about the salary.

Some run because their party needs them. Some have an issue and think they can make a difference. Others have been groomed for office and figure now is as good a time as any to run.

But Nevada's system of governance won't allow much change.

Look at your household budget. Unless you're retired and living from your investments, or are fabulously wealthy, it's nearly impossible to imagine sacrificing your income for 120 days-plus every other year.

Dr. Garn Mabey, the former Assembly minority leader, gave up trying to juggle his gynecology practice in Las Vegas with the time commitments from Carson City.

He went back to real work.

In past sessions, the two poor doctors in the Assembly, Mabey and Joe Hardy from Boulder City, actually spent plenty of time making medical diagnoses rather than political ones. Some lawmakers -- after examining the cost of paying to keep their health insurance while in Carson City -- have gone without medical insurance in recent sessions. So Mabey and Hardy have dispensed their advice about the common cold as much as they have about medical malpractice and reimbursement rates.

This state needs widespread legislative reform, but it's the type that will never fly here in government-fearing Nevada.

For starters, lawmakers should be paid more, even though that is a non-starter in this political climate.

And maybe if the citizens hadn't imposed a non-workable 120-day cap on each session, lawmakers could actually be discussing options for the state's budget shortfall.

That's not to say, of course, that the Legislature would do anything remarkable about the budget if it were in session.

History shows lawmakers can't even fix things when they're in session. Look at 2003. After 120 days of budget and tax talk, lawmakers needed two special sessions and intervention by both the executive and judicial branches before they could agree to an idiotic "solution."

I still haven't found much support for a special session this summer to deal with the current fiscal crisis. The governor clearly doesn't want lawmakers in the capital.

He doesn't live there, after all.

Lawmakers are too busy worrying about the upcoming elections to offer any bold solutions. Democrats are terrified the governor wants to pull back teacher pay raises.

The uglier downside of the system is that legislators aren't simply donating their time. They still need a source of income.

And that's where the first seeds of corruption are really sown.

Someone looking to buy access can easily put a lawmaker on the payroll. In the state Senate, it's nearly impossible to find someone who is not perceived to be beholden to some business, group or industry.

Some lawmakers even think it's suitable to be a lobbyist in their free time. Perhaps the Nevada Commission on Ethics will get around to figuring that one out after the election.

When people ask why the (fill in your choice of adjectives: health care, education, transportation, social service) system is so broken, they rarely consider another system that's just as broken -- the legislative one.

So as Nevada steams along to another battleground year on the presidential stage, the down-ticket candidates will be out knocking on your door.

Forget about asking what they'd do to fix anything. Try asking them what they do for a living and why $3,900 a year sounds good.

Somewhere in those responses you'll undoubtedly find the candidate for whom you are not going to vote.

Finding one to support might be harder.

Contact Erin Neff at eneff@reviewjournal.com or 702-387-2906.