Camden: Time for election challenges

This bit of populist doctrine actually falls apart when one realizes that the percentage of voters who read the entire text of an initiative — I-976 was 18 pages of fairly dense matter with tax rates and vehicle weight charts — is almost certainly no greater than the percentage of legislators who read a bill before they pass it.

Most voters read the bill title and maybe the brief description, and mark their ballot with that information colored by whatever commercials or mailers they’ve digested.

The Legislature employs people with the special skills of writing laws so they know things like where a sentence needs a semicolon and not a comma or where it’s important to put “shall” instead of “may.” People who write initiatives sometimes have those skills, but there’s nothing that says they must.

It’s also worth noting that if the first draft of a bill has a mistake, the Legislature can fix that in committee or before it comes up for a vote on the floor or in committee in the other chamber, or before it comes up for a vote in that second chamber. Or the governor could veto a particularly problematic section while keeping the rest of the legislation.

Once an initiative is filed and signature-gathering starts, any mistake is baked in and can’t be fixed without starting all over. You don’t get the time back and the signatures are thrown out.

Because this is politics, what some see as a huge mistake in a new law that should result in the whole thing being thrown out, others see as a minor issue that can easily be worked around. Deciding who’s right — or in some cases, who’s more right — is the job of the courts.

People who support an initiative that’s being challenged sometimes get a bit snippy and accuse opponents of “suing the voters” or “ignoring the will of the people.” Those are catchy phrases, but they’re horse pucky.

Opponents are suing the state, which has voters who supported the initiative and voters who opposed it because nothing passes by 100 percent. They’re challenging specific aspects of the initiative, and they’ll have to make their case when up against people who are experts at defending a law that is presumed to be legal unless proven otherwise.

Close, but no cigar

When Referendum 88 see-sawed between slightly up or down last week, some people wondered if we were going to see the closest ballot measure results in state history. It wasn’t to be.

At last count, the affirmative action law was being rejected 49.45 percent to 50.55 percent, by a margin of about 21,000 votes. Several statewide ballot measures have been much closer, by percentages and vote margins.

In 1991, a measure expanding the abortion law passed 50.14 percent to 49.86 percent, with a 4,299-vote margin.

In 1990, SJR 8212, on low-income tax values, failed 49.94 percent to 50.06 percent, or by 1,540 votes.

In 1977, I-348, involving variable gasoline taxes, failed 49.95 percent to 50.05 percent, or by 884 votes.

In 1930, I-57, the legislative redistricting law, passed 50.17 percent to 49.83 percent, or by 795 votes.