It happens every year: The 140 members of Virginia’s General Assembly gather in Richmond and introduce thousands of bills. Many of these won’t survive their first subcommittee hearing, much less make it to a floor vote, much less pass both chambers, much less earn the governor’s signature.
And yet, like clockwork, there are howls of protest about the most extreme and absurd measures that have approximately zero chance of becoming law, pointing to them as indicative of an entire party’s legislative agenda.
It’s politics. Both sides do it and have for years, regardless of which party holds sway in Richmond. But the willful distortion of how the legislative process works in the state legislature is both unbecoming by those who consistently engage in it, and corrosive to the public’s understanding of what lawmakers are working to accomplish during the session.
Readers of a certain age may remember the children’s program, “Schoolhouse Rock!,” featuring short educational segments, typically set to music, focused on a variety of subjects. Among these was the popular “I’m Just A Bill,” a catchy civics explainer about how legislation moves through Congress to become law.
It narrated the journey — from an idea proposed in legislation, considered by committees, voted on by lawmakers and either accepted or rejected by the president (and subject to a veto override by Congress) — and how long and arduous it can be.
That is by design, of course, and the General Assembly operates in similar fashion. The Virginia Public Access Project (VPAP) reports that an average legislative session sees about 2,000-2,500 bills introduced by lawmakers. Of these, about 800-1,000 measures pass the General Assembly and head to the governor’s desk.
Even then, there’s no guarantee they become law. For example, Gov. Glenn Youngkin vetoed far more bills than any previous governor — 358 in his final two years — which speaks to yet another hurdle legislation must clear before it is enacted.
Other than the day they convene and the day they adjourn, the most consequential milestone on the legislative calendar is what’s known as “crossover.” Bills must win passage in one chamber or the other by that date — which, in this year’s session, is Wednesday — or be abandoned for the year.
That means this week will be among the busiest at the General Assembly as lawmakers rush to advance their priorities. That’s not to say the time until now has been unproductive — anything but, in fact — but Tuesday and Wednesday will go a long way in shaping what this year’s session will achieve.
But lawmakers have already dispatched some of the most extreme measures introduced for their consideration, including many incorrectly trumpeted as reflective of the Democratic majority’s priorities. Potential taxes on dog walkers and a host of other services, for instance, earned Fox News headlines but were rather speedily set aside.
Republicans are hardly alone in these bad-faith arguments. Democrats used to raise plenty of noise about bills introduced by conservative Republican Del. Bob Marshall, including a North Carolina-style “bathroom bill,” even though they often had no chance of passage.
Some will claim that ginning up opposition is what keeps bad bills from becoming law, and that’s certainly true in some cases. If a steady stream of Virginians speak up against a piece of legislation in some early morning subcommittee meeting, or if they flood members’ offices with calls and messages against it, there’s a greater likelihood it won’t survive. It’s a reasonable strategy and one that works.
But it’s also bad faith to hold up a bill introduced by one member, without co-patrons or support of any kind, and claim it’s indicative of every Republican or Democrat in the legislature.
Legislation shouldn’t be approved hastily or without exhaustive consideration. That process serves commonwealth residents by ensuring lawmakers act of reason, not emotion, and examine all potential outcomes before acting.
Crossover marks the point when priorities crystalize, when potential laws come into focus and when the real debate — on the facts — truly begins.
