My Advice to the New Speaker of the House: Divest the Curse

Will the next Speaker become just another picture on the wall of the House Chamber, forever consigned to the purgatory of watching future generations of politicians repeat the same mistakes?

In my last commentary, I described Freedom Month in the Oklahoma House of Representatives. It's not altogether unlike the falling of the Berlin Wall. A heavy, authoritarian weight has left the building, and it's safe to talk openly now about the many problems of the past eight years without fear of career-ending retaliation from the Imperial Speakership of the now-departed House Speaker.

As a new House Speaker steps up to grab the all-powerful corner office and takes on the mantle of perhaps what is Oklahoma's most powerful elected official, I feel led to provide him with a service that I have, in some manner or form, provided to the last three holders of that office: unsolicited advice that, if followed, would apply the time-proven concepts of truth, openness, and honesty to what is a very dark, opaque, dishonest system of governance. This advice would thus transform the institution that is the House of Representatives of Oklahoma and, ironically enough, perhaps allow the incoming Speaker to be one of the first to leave the Speakership with as much popularity as when he inherits it.

My advice, which has been given in some form or manner to the last three holders of that office—very well received by one, seemingly rejected by another, with extreme prejudice, and, I think, honestly considered before, to his great detriment, being pushed aside by the third—would both transform governance in Oklahoma and, ironically enough, allow the incoming Speaker to leave office with as much collegial support as he has when he inherits it.

That simple, direct advice is as follows: You have absolute power. Get rid of it as quickly as practical; it is a curse.

To the run-of-the-mill House Speaker, this suggestion is insanity. To achieve the power, he's played the backroom political game for years. Because he has played that game, his moral compass has been broken by a maze of situational ethics and behind-the-scenes maneuvering. Barely able to tell up from down or right from wrong, his ethics have atrophied, and his mind is absolutely incapable of grasping the need for a system where none of that is necessary—where policy decisions are made not behind closed doors, based on money and relationships, but in open, transparent deliberation, where a legislator's aye really is aye, and his nay really is nay.

He's played the game, he's earned the ring, and now it's time to use it.

But for what purpose?

Were you or I to take to the streets of any uptown Main Street in Oklahoma and ask the man on the sidewalk to name as many Speakers of the House as he can muster up recall power to name, how many names would he come up with?

How ironic that history does not long remember one of Oklahoma's most powerful politicians, The Speaker. He becomes a simple picture on the wall of the House Chamber, assigned to the purgatory of looking on as generations of future politicians make, and repeat, all of his same mistakes. How very fitting.

That's because, notwithstanding all of that power, arguably, few, if any, House Speakers have gone on to do anything greater in elected public life—not Congress, not statewide office. You’re most likely to find ex-Speakers appointed to a dead-end position chairing a bureaucratic board or perhaps lobbying for a powerful special interest, but nothing greater.

What are the odds that someone who was endowed with all of this power walks into the same dead-end electoral alley each and every time?

What is it about this absolute power that proves such a curse?

Here's my take.

Too many people know how the game is played. Once a person assumes the office, other legislators, ambitious politicians, lobbyists and their employers, and state government bureaucrats know exactly where to go to tap into the power. And they are not going to be happy when the person who holds the power fails to meet their expectations.

It’s very hard to hold up under this pressure. So, to survive, the Speaker must step up his political game, become exceptionally crafty, and find unique and creative, behind-the-scenes ways to pass the buck—like a hot potato—to other persons and institutions.

There are any number of ways for the Speaker to create an illusion by which his desired outcome is really the fault or responsibility of another party. It's a terribly complicated game; but, there are just enough savvy persons who can see through that game, and eventually, the Speaker's popularity decays not unlike a radium half-life. Depending on the Speaker's craftiness, or lack thereof, those half-lives kick in at differing rates. Unwise, imprudent, impulsive, and impetuous Speakers become almost instantly unpopular, although most legislators can't admit that due to the fear of retaliation.

Unconstrained by brave advisors, there’s no restraint on the actions of the Speaker, and thus he becomes mistake-prone. His mistakes, some of them potentially problematic in a legal sense, made while he’s in power, can come back to haunt him and put a lid on his future ambitions once he’s out of power.

All of this, the Speaker's behind-the-scenes machinations to pass the buck, his mistakes and the legislators’ dislike for the Speaker, are closely guarded secrets throughout his time in the corner office. And it's that secrecy that destroys the Speaker. Without transparency, he's the Emperor with No Clothes, thinking he's popular when, in fact, he's greatly despised by many who simply can't admit it publicly.

But let's consider the case of the very hypothetical Speaker who does the opposite and accepts the sage suggestion to give up his power, to trust the members of the legislature with the power, and to take the behind-the-scenes processes of control and make them public.

One can only begin to imagine the many implications this would have for good policy, for taking much of the money and behind-the-scenes influence out of the system, and, ironically, for taking away the means by which the Speaker becomes so very unpopular.

So, my advice to all incoming Speakers is to start the process of divesting the curse. There are currently between 10 to 15 direct, delegated, or special privileges that are provided to the Speaker through the House Rules. The new Speaker should divest several of these major powers and processes of control, shifting them from the corner office to the entire assembly to be adjudicated through a transparent, open process and public vote. And he should set in motion the plan by which future legislatures can continue this devolution of power.

How will the new Speaker define his success?

Should he achieve these reforms, then this should be the very last time where the membership casts their vote for Speaker in a spirit of fear and trepidation. It will be an all-new era when the members need not fear the Speaker. The legislators of the future will be free to speak their minds to the Speaker's successor without fear of retaliation because that person will have little in the way of ability to retaliate.

Thus, having forever removed the cloud of oppression and fear, this would be the greatest possible legacy that a Speaker could have. And there could not be a more perfect time to achieve these goals. Coming after the long eight-year authoritarian reign of the Imperial Speakership of Charles McCall—a reign that grew increasingly authoritarian with the passage of each legislative session—provides the incoming leadership with the perfect contrast opportunity: the chance to contrast light from dark with just a few clear, bold divestitures of power.

Will the new House Speaker take this advice?

We will know soon.

The House will vote to adopt their next set of House Rules early next year. The House always rubber-stamps the rules proposals of leadership because, after all, they are afraid of that leadership. If their rules preserve the status quo sans meaningful reform, then we should rightly expect that the Speaker's curse will stay in place and will forever haunt this, its newest victim.