A tip of the legislative hat

Chris Bouneff

I was sitting with college friends at one of the various identical McMenamins, and we were complaining about the dry corporate hamburgers and paltry serving of lukewarm fries. We're all old enough to remember the earlier days together, when the burgers were decent and the fries greasy and plentiful. Perfect college fare.

And, yes, like most people approaching or in middle age, we had a longing for the good old days. Just as quickly, however, we admitted that over time, things change. In this case, we speculated that corporate growth changed the product we once loved. That's just life, and there's no going back.

That conversation and conclusion struck me again recently as I tried, without total success, to avoid the campaign season that has commenced. This candidate said that. That candidate didn't denounce this. This website is a mouthpiece. That blogger is biased. Really, what passes as media coverage and public discourse is a bunch of baloney. And it's such trite crap that has alienated so many people who otherwise might have interest in the political process.

I reminded myself that's just the way it is. Media saturation, greater opportunity to opine without facts, greater pressure to publish information more rapidly even if it is vacuous or incompletely reported. And that's when I remembered a great silence recently. One that demonstrated that maybe you can't go back, but you can get someplace similar.

There was a wonderful silence in our state that lasted from January through June when the 2011 Legislature was in session. We had a divided Legislature that could have raised hyperbole to new levels. Yet, the session seemed tame. I'd even say that the banal political rhetoric that usually attends a legislative session was actually absent. I don't recall reading or hearing one quote in which some party mouthpiece parroted lines about those "tax-and-spend Democrats" or those "heartless, corporate-shill Republicans." It may have happened, but not frequently enough that I stumbled across an example that stuck with me.

That silence was golden. Rather than canned quotes, what I recall are statements that you want your leaders to make. The work was difficult, being divided didn't make it easier, but they were committed. Their comments weren't very enlightening, but what could they say? I'm sure they had their disagreements, but they weren't aired with the same stereotypical vitriol as in the recent past. It reminded me of when I was a kid growing up in Oregon, when Western politics were more pragmatic and locally flavored, before an influx of new residents and a media explosion nationalized the state's political culture.

I can't write that the session was completely ideal. Deliberations on many issues occurred behind closed doors and in hallways. And as with any legislative session, good luck on influencing a final product if you're a member of the public. Bad policy made it into law in the name of compromise and harmony.

But that's not unlike the older days. And the lack of meaningless chatter demonstrated to me how little public deliberation actually occurs during a session. We spend a lot of time contemplating and filling empty space. If it takes divided government to actually get some work done in a congenial fashion, then so be it. And they did get work done, thanks to leadership from both parties that found a way to cooperate.

Just like with McMenamins, maybe we can't go back to the way it was. But there's always an alternative that meets our needs, and so this liberal raises his glass to the 2011 Legislature and hopes for more of the same in 2012. You can join me as well, if you wish. I'll be at Stanich's.

By Chris Bouneff Oct. 17, 2011