Kansas GOP isn’t making the sounds of compromise with Gov. Kelly in special session | Opinion
At last, we’re getting a special session.
As expected — though a touch later than expected — Kansas Gov. Laura Kelly on Wednesday called a special session of the Legislature to take place in June. The hope here is that the Democratic governor and the GOP-controlled legislature can use the overtime period to maybe, hopefully, finally strike an agreement on cutting taxes for Kansans.
“By working together,” the governor said in a press release, “we can swiftly come to a compromise to put more money back into Kansans’ pockets.”
Maybe?
But that might be a tall order: Kelly has already vetoed several tax packages this year. She wants to limit the total cut to $425 million, while Republicans say the state can handle cuts up to a cool half-billion dollars.
The two sides don’t exactly seem terribly thrilled with each other.
“Now she says she’s ready to work with the legislature?” Ottawa GOP state Rep. Rebecca Schmoe scoffed on social media. “We’ve already compromised multiple times and sent her true bipartisan tax plans.”
So yeah. The spirit of compromise doesn’t exactly seem ascendant.
Still, it would be good news for Kansans if the two sides can reach an agreement. The state’s coffers are flush with extra money. Some of that should go back to the people who actually earned it.
Everybody seems to agree on that much, at least.
Just one problem, though, with Kelly’s decision to bring legislators back to Topeka: There’s just so much opportunity for mischief.
Chiefs stadium, blocking trans health care on agenda?
Why? Because once lawmakers get together, even for a special session, there’s nothing that keeps them from passing any law they like.
So maybe we’ll get a big tax cut. Maybe not. We could also get some stuff that’s not on Kelly’s agenda.
Legislators could decide to authorize financing for a new Johnson County stadium for the Kansas City Chiefs, for example. Or we could get yet another attempt by Republicans to ban gender-affirming care for transgender kids in the state.
Efforts on both fronts faltered before the clock ran out on the Legislature’s regular session earlier this spring. That was a good thing, to my mind. Now, though, lawmakers get another bite at the apple.
They might even be eager for the opportunity.
“That’s the risk of a special session,” Senate President Ty Masterson said earlier this month. “As a matter of fact, we would be incentivized if we come back to deal with the (tax) issues. If she vetoes anything that we pass in main session, it just gives us a new opportunity to take another swing at it.”
Perhaps that’s an idle threat. But we can’t say we weren’t warned.
The beauty of the part-time Kansas Legislature is that lawmakers have limited time to do damage — a regular session lasts just 90 calendar days in even-numbered years. You can squeeze only so much flour into that bag.
That forces a certain amount of priority-setting. Yes, legislators have plenty of leeway to play with culture war issues and grandstanding that doesn’t help anybody, but they’ve also got to do the business of the state. Budgets must be passed. Schools must be funded. Roads must be fixed.
In a special session, though, lawmakers are free to really follow their muse.
To be fair, it doesn’t often work that way in practice. The four special sessions between 2013 and 2021 lasted two days or fewer. Legislators don’t necessarily want to spend a lot of extra time at work, particularly during an election year.
These aren’t exactly normal political times, though. Anything can happen.
I’ve already written that Kelly is risking her twin legacies — for fiscal rectitude and middle-of-the-road moderation — by rejecting the Legislature’s tax bills and calling senators and representatives back to the statehouse.
The other risk is that the special session could spiral out of control. Kelly and Republican leaders in the capitol don’t often seem to be on the same page. Why would this be any different?
Joel Mathis is a regular Kansas City Star and Wichita Eagle Opinion correspondent. He lives in Lawrence. Formerly a writer and editor at Kansas newspapers, he served nine years as a syndicated columnist.
This story was originally published May 30, 2024 at 12:50 PM.