The Rise and Fall of the Youngest House Speaker: Will History Repeat Itself?

For longtime observers, it feels like Groundhog Day in the Oklahoma House of Representatives.

It’s been a long time since the Oklahoma House of Representatives experienced "freedom month." In fact, the vast majority of its members, due to the unprecedented length of the Imperial Speakership of Charles McCall, have never experienced a freedom month before. Understandably, this makes for an exciting but alien experience for most.

Freedom month in the House, loosely defined, is the precious yet fleeting period when the powerless serfs—the average members of the House, who hold little actual power—can let down their guard and celebrate. For the first time in months—if not years—they are finally able to talk openly and honestly about the many shortcomings and toxic policies of the most recent authoritarian leaders who have just left the building for the last time. At the same time, they optimistically delude themselves into believing that things will improve under the new, incoming, all-powerful, soon-to-be authoritarian leaders.

These hopes are delusions because, as we all know, absolute power corrupts absolutely. And until the power of the Speaker is dissolved to the members of the House, if history is an accurate predictor—which it almost always is—those now acquiring this absolute power will soon become arrogant, or even more arrogant, as the case may be, and are likely to wield it unwisely. The delusions of the serfs will quickly fade away, though they will never admit it in a public setting for fear of the retribution that will follow—at least, not until the next freedom month.

Over the next few weeks, the media and ambitious members of the legislature will coronate a new role model: the youngest Speaker in the history of the House. It’s a moniker already eagerly embraced by the self-serving, over-the-top introductory press release distributed by this person, the one poised to become what many believe to be Oklahoma’s most powerful politician.

The next few weeks of almost exclusive praise will be a heady experience—a thoroughly ego-inflating affair—as the leaders of business, industry, government, and politics do their part to cater to this all-powerful person and curry favor.

Reading this praise is a real Groundhog Day experience for me. The youngest House Speaker in the nation, taking the reins of absolute power, with profuse praise from the powers that be—it’s all so familiar.

Eighteen years ago, as a freshman representative, I saw almost identical coverage given to another incoming Speaker: the youngest in the nation. That type of attention, not to mention the endowment of absolute power, isn’t something your average politician is equipped to handle. It’s especially challenging for those who are young and have yet to acquire the requisite gravitas or enough years of experience to thoughtfully observe the human condition, govern wisely, understand the fleeting nature of human praise, and use power justly.

I still vividly remember that cold late night and early morning of January 20, 2008. At the request of the county sheriff, I was on a ride-along with one of his deputies, taking care of it before our second session was set to kick off just a few days later.

At the time, our House was under the leadership of our innovative, policy-smart, energetic, and highly lauded youngest Speaker in the nation. During the just-concluding legislative interim, he had been conducting an innovative concept: a statewide tour to gather ideas from the people for the next massive wave of reforms that the new generation of Republican leaders would use to forever transform state government for the better.

It was the kind of innovative, populist, grassroots initiative that is far beyond the comprehension of this lazy second generation of Republican leadership—most of whom likely fear the populist grassroots wave that is now once again rapidly growing and reasserting itself in the legislature. Indeed, you’re more likely to find the leaders of this generation sequestered with lobbyists and special interests at elaborate tourist getaways or exclusive caucus events of unprecedented length than in community halls, city buildings, or small rural churches listening to the people, who are so desperate for relief from government overreach—like the ongoing, government-funded green energy assault on property owners.

But back to 2008: For all that innovation and sweat equity, it would all start to unravel on that cold January morning. As the deputy and I stopped at Guthrie’s Division Street Love’s station, I noticed that the Sunday Oklahoman had arrived—a big deal in those days. The newspaper immediately caught my attention. Featuring a Nolan Clay and Randy Ellis special, the front page announced to the world that our youngest Speaker in the nation had tax problems. This was the first revelation in what would become known as "Taxgate." Within just ten days, and under a mounting avalanche of foolish, easily avoidable personal judgment errors, our youngest Speaker in the nation’s speakership came to an ignominious end.

Just months earlier, he had been so popular, so politically powerful—and now, that was all gone.

In retrospect, I can’t help but feel that with his resignation, much of the innovation died as well. Some of the members carried on the innovation and did their best to preserve his reform ideas. We were able to weave them into our caucus’ culture for several years, and there were certainly great successes. But by 2014, the innovation was slowly being crushed out of the caucus culture.

Now, seeing all the same stories about the new youngest Speaker in the nation, I can’t help but flash back to that time. I also couldn’t help but notice that the new youngest Speaker’s initially self-aggrandizing press release—introducing himself to the state in the most pompous of terms—was written by a new advisor who, coincidentally, all those years ago, was one of the very same Oklahoman reporters who covered the rapid downfall of our last youngest Speaker in the nation. I imagine that as she typed out that unwise release, she might have sensed the same Groundhog Day vibes that I also picked up on.

Here’s hoping the new Speaker will allow those in his orbit—like his new advisor—who should have the experience and an understanding of the mistakes of the past to courageously inform the Emperor when he has no clothes.

Unfortunately, there are few with the requisite courage for this task—an essential role in saving an authoritarian from himself.

That role, though, is one I have had the opportunity to play for several House Speakers. I’ve given them advice that I believe, had it been followed, would have allowed them to set a historic precedent: exiting the Speakership with the same level of personal reputation as when they entered it.

I’ve only encountered one House Speaker who ever seemed to possess even the remotest interest in this advice. But for the curious, in The Capital’s next Substack, I’ll share the most important part of how I would advise a House Speaker to accomplish this historic first.

For now, I would simply suggest to the new Speaker to thoughtfully learn from the example of his predecessors, including the one who just exited the building, and to know that no amount of self-promotion will offset the fate that accompanies just about every former Speaker of the House: a post-Speakership purgatory that mostly remembers the past Speaker as just another node in a long line of once-all-powerful, people-manipulating, unjust authoritarians whose reputation left the building at a substantially lower level than it entered.