There’s something really interesting happening in Texas state politics right now. An innovative state bill, HB2127, dubbed the Death Star Bill, is about to become law. By creating a cause of action for people and companies to sue local jurisdictions that pass regulations that are more onerous than those at the state level, this law gives the state the ultimate weapon in the battle over state-level policy control. While not the first shot in this long war, it’s certainly the most significant and one likely to be copied in other Red States as they attempt to reign in population-rich, blue enclaves amidst their seas of red.

What’s so interesting about this story is that it highlights an important but not well-understood national political phenomenon where the “will of the people” is not only becoming increasingly difficult to identify but also, because of our Federalist structure, isn’t always finding its way into positions of power.

The abortion story is perfect example of this, where an overwhelming majority (something like 65%) supports the woman’s right to choose under the old Roe framework, but because of the Supreme Court ruling and the Federalist structure of our system, Red States have been able to pass laws that are clearly in conflict with that majority position.

What’s going-on here?

In some sense, this is actually how our system was designed to work and there’s a genius to it. Historically speaking, to have competing centers for political power is simply a better operating system for democracy than anything else that’s been tried. By introducing diversity and competition in to the political power equation, it gives citizens the opportunity to vote not just at the ballot box but also with their feet—as we’ve seen recently with the exodus from increasingly anti-business jurisdictions like California and New York.

Now, I’m not one of those people who hero worships our Founders. It’s too hard to ignore the rather compromised moral position of so many of them. That being said, I absolutely think they deserve our praise for the work they did establishing our Republic. Our Constitution is a document of supreme world historical significance, one of the greatest collective creations of humankind.

The Founders, great students of the Ancient World, understood that the true existential threat to democracy is, paradoxically, “the will of the people” itself. It’s the tyranny of the majority that destroys democracy and, if left unchecked, will produce either anarchy (as in Athens) or dictatorship (as in Rome). In Madison’s Notes on the Constitutional Convention—required reading for all Americans in my opinion—the Founders spent an enormous amount of time discussing how to protect against this threat. The goal was to structure a democratic system that allowed for the manifestation of the will of the people while at the same time protecting the interests of the minority position. What they came up with was our Federal system where competing interests for political power are not just manifested by simple, direct democratic voting but rather where votes are channeled into separate political offices and entities with competing, overlapping spheres of influence.

Our structure, while not perfect, does seem to be an operating system for a more sustainable democracy. In recent times, there’s been a lot of talk about abandoning parts of this federalist structure—e.g. the clamor to get rid of the electoral college system. I’m not sure this is a great idea but that’s a subject for another day.

Back to the Death Star bill. The issue in the Red States is that their big cities and most of their university towns look and feel almost exactly like those in Blue States, where local elections are completely dominated by the left. These cities have been busy passing laws and regulations that are at odds with a broader state-wide majority position. The Death Star bill is an understandable attempt to use State power to squash these minority positions. But is this fair, for example, to the people of Austin who clearly have different priorities and values? I’m not so sure.

Interestingly, the same exact thing is happening in the Blue States. State legislators are increasingly at odds with the cities and counties and have been busy attempting to usurp power over local control. For example, here in California we have seen this phenomenon where local city councils vote decidedly against anything pro-development, while state assembly members and senators have been busy passing one pro-development law after the next. What gives? Why are state level politicians feeling the pressure to respond to their constituents with a different set of policy priorities—more practical, pro-business, pro-development—than at the local level? It almost doesn’t make any sense, especially so because these elected officials, who are voting so differently, represent approximately the same constituents. How can the will of the people mean one thing in the city and another in the state?

I think what’s going-on here is a manifestation of two things: 1. Economic segregation and 2. Profound political apathy.

The reason that politics in cities and towns looks and feels so different is because in smaller, economically segregated districts, a different will of the people tends to manifest. Most of the time, local district election lines don’t line up the same as those in county- or state-wide elections, and you see a political consensus emerge that is based primarily on the perceived economic interests of the neighborhoods involved. Of course, this isn’t always true but it is largely so.

At the same time, civic engagement is so low in state-level politics that the state legislatures are completely captured by the loudest, most well-organized voices in the room. This tends to be powerful labor and business interests, which are naturally focused on different things than the small numbers of economically segregated concerned citizens voting in local elections. When you put these two dynamics together you get not only the potential for conflict but also a situation where the will of the people is neither understood nor recognized. As we’ve discussed before, this is why I’m so convinced there’s this Silent Majority out there.

Manhood Revisited

Interestingly, I got a ton of feedback in response to my piece about Senator Hawley’s new book. Thank you all for your responses!

Now, I’m not exactly sure how the Profit+ community skews when it comes to politics but I’m almost certain there aren’t a ton of Hawley fans among us. Despite this though, the feedback was overwhelmingly constructive and 100% civil. This is super encouraging data and confirms my Silent Majority hypothesis.

One of your fellow readers, a friend of mine and colleague on the Angeleno Project, clued me in to another fascinating book on the subject of masculinity—“For the Love of Men” by Liz Plank. The author is a self-described “feminist who loves men” and her book is an attempt to answer the questions of masculinity from the female perspective.

I did a little research on Plank and the book and am so intrigued that I decided I’m going to read this one too. For those following along, I’m sorry I just doubled the reading load, but I just couldn’t pass up this opportunity to consider the question of masculinity from two so diverse vantage points. I’m looking forward to reporting back on all this!

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