Remembering Martin Luther King Jr.

While one can never prove things of the spirit, neither can science explain the ability of deeply spiritual people to sense things spiritually, even prophetically. Consider these lines spoken by the Reverend Martin Luther King on the evening of April 3, 1968:

“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land! And so I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!”

He would die the next day at the hands of an assassin. Did he know that for sure? Almost certainly not, but we can feel the visionary power in his words. He sensed that something might, and he was right.

While I know little of Doctor King’s life and ministry, I do know this: he understood the power of moral authority. He understood that enormous power lies in doing what Jesus taught: to turn the other cheek. When faced with violence, he would be non-violent and preach non-violence. When faced with hate, he would respond with love. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness,” he counseled “only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

Our natural instinct as humans is exactly the opposite: it’s ‘eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth.’ You hurt me, then I hurt you. You hate me, then I hate you. Politics is rife with that attitude because, again, it comes naturally. It seems fair. It seems just, and yet it can ‘leave us both blind.’

Grateful to spend a few minutes today remembering a visionary leader who recognized the sublime power that goes along with a conscious decision *not* to mirror hurt or hatred, but to turn the other cheek, and, in so doing, to forever secure the moral high ground. As Dr. King recognized, that moral high ground carried with it a power far greater than the dogs, the clubs, the firehoses, the injunctions, and the paddywagons. “Peace,” he taught, “is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal.”

Did Dr. King’s moral high ground forever banish hatred, racism, or guarantee the promises of the Declaration of Independence? No, but in the end it moved our nation powerfully in that direction. It shaped our history and redefined our national consciousness.

As we remember Dr. King’s life and legacy today, I hope we can each make a conscious decision to “publish peace” as he did. We remain a Nation divided, shot through with a myriad fault lines, but we’re better than that–or at least we can be better than that. To bridge those gaps, we must work together. We can never succeed as a Nation if we retreat to our respective trench lines and lob grenades at each other: us versus them. No, we must break the cycle of anger and hatred by responding with civility, respect, and love. Love when it isn’t warranted. Forgiveness, when it isn’t warranted. Understanding, when it isn’t deserved. That, and only that, will truly honor the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King.

Advice to Graduates of the Davis Applied Technical College

In December of 2018, I had the opportunity to speak to the winter graduates of the Davis Applied Technical College (DATC). So impressed by the graduates, many of whom have risen above challenging circumstances to better themselves and their communities. The experience gave me the chance to reflect on some of the key life lessons that I’ve learned over the years. Thought it was worth reposting those thoughts here … 

Good evening graduates, parents, and families.

I love graduations because they represent moments of great promise–milestones in our lives. The work done, we can savor the results and look forward to new opportunities and new horizons.

When I was asked to speak a few weeks ago, I happened to be walking along the Ogden River, and I picked this up [a smooth, round stone]. Anyone know what it is?

It’s a rock. Just a plain old rock. Given where I found it, it’s probably pretty young by rock standards, maybe 20-30 million years old, and it will last a few thousand years more at least before it crumbles to dust.

I know what you’re thinking, “Did I walk into the wrong room? Is this Geology Class or a graduation speech?” My point is this: when you consider the age of a rock–tens, if not hundreds of millions of years old–a human life is just the blink of an eye. We have just this one, brief moment on earth, and so the question becomes: what do we do with that moment?

It was with that kind of perspective in mind that Henry David Thoreau, at age 27, decided to spend two years living in a cabin he built near the shores of Walden Pond. Thoreau’s goal wasn’t to become a hermit. Rather, he relocated there, within walking distance of family and friends, because he wanted to live his life in a certain way. Here’s how he described his decision:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

In a day long before cell-phones–these wonderful but horrid little attention grabbers–Thoreau realized that life is full of distractions–things that blur our vision and make it hard to see what’s most important, what’s most valuable.

It’s with that perspective in mind that I’d like to share with you the three most important life lessons I’ve learned in nearly 50 years on this planet.

Lesson #1: don’t fall for the fake.

I don’t know what it is about human nature. We all seem to want the same things. We want to be happy. We want to feel loved and valued. We want our lives to have meaning. That’s not strange, but what is strange is this: too often, we fall for the fake, for the counterfeit. For stuff that promise happiness or love or meaning, but delivers none of those things.

What kind of fakes am I talking about? Let’s start with social media. When Facebook first came on the scene I signed up, along with tens and then hundreds of millions of others. Initially, it felt fun. I reconnected with old friends. I made new friends too. That’s great, but there’s an odd thing about social media: the more time we spend on it, the *less* connected we feel. Social media can make us feel insecure–like we don’t measure up. Our home isn’t as nice, our vacations aren’t as exciting, our significant other not as handsome or as beautiful … You get the idea. So, weirdly, even as we spend time and effort to stay “connected” on social media, it can lead to feelings of loneliness, isolation, and insignificance. In short, we’ve fallen for the fake. Instead of real, human interaction and connection, we’ve settled for a cheap counterfeit version of it, and that’s lame.

What’s the solution? Don’t fall for it. I’m not telling you to sell your phone and close all your social media accounts. I am telling you that being connected online is no substitute for investing in and being present in the relationships that matter most. Those relationships will benefit if we make an effort to put down the phone and focus on being mindful and being present: listening, and laughing, and connecting with others.

There are plenty of other fakes we can fall for. For example, we often think that money or fame will bring happiness, when in truth, not only do wealth and fame not guarantee happiness, in many cases they frustrate it. Consider Robin Williams, Kate Spade, Junior Seau, Sylvia Plath, Kurt Cobain, Ernest Hemingway, Marilyn Monroe, and a long list of other notables who, having found fame and fortune, ultimately lost themselves and then took their own lives in a fit of depression. Would we trade our boring lives for theirs? I wouldn’t, and I trust you wouldn’t either. So, don’t fall for the fake.

Let me give you an example from my own life. By my late 20s, I’d become successful by most measures. I’d graduated from college and a prestigious law school, and landed at a top tier law firm in Washington, D.C. where I made a lot of money, ate at fancy restaurants, and worked on Supreme Court cases with some of the smartest people around. Should be happy, right? Well, I wasn’t. I was miserable. It wasn’t the work itself, which was interesting, or the people, who were, by and large, terrific. It was the relentless pressure of it all. 16-18 hour days glued to a computer screen, sometimes 6 or even 7 days a week. I felt like I was suffocating.

So I left it all and went to work for a non-profit here in Utah, making ¼ of what I’d made before. Money became tight. We struggled. We drove old cars, panicked when we had to replace an appliance, struggled to pay medical bills and the monthly mortgage and, guess what? I was far happier than I’d ever been at the big firm. I spent my days doing work that was rich and rewarding and interesting. I was able to go fishing and count it as work. I went on walks with my wife in the middle of the day. I wrote and published articles. I coached my kids’ soccer teams, and went to all their events, and taught a college course on ethics and pursued cooking and gardening and photography and all the things I loved. You get the idea: it was a wonderful, beautiful time of life.

And guess what? None of that should come as a surprise. There’s a raft of social science research to prove it. What makes us happy? It isn’t money. What makes us fulfilled? It isn’t fame. What delivers both is meaningful, human connection–not the number of friends we have on Facebook or the number of likes on Instagram, but the quality of our real, face-to-face relationships. Choosing to spend our time in ways that are outward focused and that bring true and lasting joy. Serving, helping, teaching, laughing, uplifting others. These are the real McCoy, and the keys to a happy and fulfilled life.

Lesson #2. Be “in it to win it.”

When I got to law school I didn’t feel like I belonged. I was a kid from a small town, a product of public schools, attending law school in New York City, and everyone seemed so much cooler and smarter than I. I remember being afraid to make comments in class, because I feared I’d look dumb, and it would confirm what I thought people suspected about me already: “How’d that guy get in here? He’s from Utah.”

During my second year, I signed up for moot court, which involves a group of students making arguments to a panel of smart lawyers and judges who pepper them with tough questions. I thought I’d try it out, but with no real hope of success.

And then something happened. I met a fellow competitor named Maureen Nakley. She was a transfer from a smaller school and she approached moot court with this amazing confidence and energy. I was blown away. She went on to win the whole thing. Took home the prize for best oral argument. Seeing that, I decided that, if I did moot court again, I’d be “in it to win it”–that I’d go about it with confidence and just do my best. And so that’s what I did third year. I busted my butt. I prepared and prepared and prepared some more. And then I just went out and did my level best.

I made it to the finals, where one of the judges was Ruth Bader Ginsburg, a sitting Supreme Court Justice. In the previous round, I’d been so nervous that I’d run out spit and could barely talk. So, when the day of the finals arrived, I was sure I’d be terrified. But I wasn’t. In fact, I felt this amazing feeling of peace and calm that came from knowing that I’d done my best, and, having done that, the results just didn’t seem to matter all that much.

I stood up, made my arguments, didn’t run out of spit, and then I sat down. I told my wife, “I didn’t win. I think so and so won this prize and so and so won that. But it’s okay, because I did my best, and I feel good about it.” You know what? I was wrong. I won the whole dang thing. Took home both the big prizes. But here’s thing: winning the prizes wasn’t what made me happy or at peace. Rather, it was the feeling that I’d given it my all–that I’d done my best to the point that there was nothing left to give and, given that, I was content to let the chips fall where they may.

The current term for this way of thinking is “vulnerability,” by which we mean embracing the possibility of failure—choosing to risk ‘looking dumb’–as an opportunity for growth and personal progress. When viewed through that lens, the “safe” option, by which I mean the risk-free option, becomes a bad idea. In short, we have to embrace the possibility of failure if we want to grow and have a chance to succeed at the kind of things that matter most.

On a related note, let me share with you an insight from a leadership training I went to at the Air Force Academy a few years ago. They’d done this big study to determine what characteristic defined those most likely to succeed at the academy and in the military. Can you guess what it was? It wasn’t smarts. It wasn’t good looks. It wasn’t the number of friends one had on Facebook or the number of likes on Instagram. It was, in a word: grit. Grit! The quality of being able to stick to a task and see it through to the end. To do one’s best, even in the face of difficulty or adversity. In short, to be ‘in it to win it.’

So, don’t worry if you’re not the smartest, or the best looking, or have the most friends. If you have grit–if you can fight through difficulties and do your best–you have in your possession the single biggest key to success.

Lesson #3. Choose to tell a positive story.

I know what you’re thinking, “Is this Mr. Rogers Neighborhood or is this a graduation speech?!” When I was growing up I used to think that success or failure in life largely turned on our choices. Making good decisions brings success, just as making bad ones brings failure. While that’s true on some level, it’s also more complicated than that. I know chumps who are wildly successful, just as I know decent, hardworking men and women who struggle with all kinds of things. Turns out that making good decisions doesn’t guarantee an easy life.

Still, there does seem to be a powerful element of choice when it comes to our happiness, and that choice boils down to this: what story do we choose to tell about our circumstances? More importantly, what story do we choose to tell about ourselves?

I’m amazed that two people can go through the exact same circumstances, and emerge with vastly different perspectives. You know what I’m talking about? One guy loses his leg and “Oh, why did this happen to me?” and “I’ve seen no end of suffering and bad luck” and “Why does God hate me?” and another guy loses his leg, and he’s like, “Well, I’m glad I still have one good leg,” and that guy runs the New York City Marathon, and gives a TED talk, and makes a bunch of money as a motivational speaker and marries a cover model and they live happily ever after … on a yacht … in Fiji. You see: it’s all about perspective!

I believe that we have the freedom to choose–not our circumstances necessarily, but the story we choose to tell about those circumstances and how we react to them. That’s where the most powerful and meaningful choice comes in. You, my friend, may choose to see the glass as half empty, but I choose to see it as half full.

And those “glass half full” people seem to live much happier and fulfilled lives than those who choose to tell a more negative story.

So, what if you’re Eeyore or Charlie Brown? What if you have hard time finding silver linings in a world of clouds and shades of gray? My advice to you is to practice. Just like you’d practice the piano, or learning Spanish or anything else that requires consistent and sustained effort. Just try to tell a positive story–to find the silver lining–and here’s the amazing thing: before you know it, you’ll start to become better at it, and the better you become at it, the better you’ll feel about your life, about others, and about your future.

Yes, you’ll fail—we all fail at some things—but the positive story teller will pick herself up. I’m better than this. I will learn from my mistakes. I will move forward and be the kind of person I know I can be.

One last illustration. Nearly 18 years ago my mother died, tragically and unexpectedly. She’d was such an amazing person, and had been such a positive influence on me and many others for many years. A short while later, my wife went into premature labor, and the baby died before it could draw its first breath. I remember sitting in a hospital room and holding this little lifeless baby in my arms as the heat slowly slipped away from its body. I felt alone, and helpless, and sad.

While I’ll never fully understand why those things happened to me and those I cared about, I’ve come to see those experiences as some of the most important, defining experiences of my life. They taught me to take nothing for granted. To love a little deeper, and laugh a little louder, and to savor each precious moment I’m blessed to spend on this earth with those I love. Life is short, but life is sweet, and all the more sweet because it isn’t guaranteed.

You see: that’s not a story that happened to me. Oh, those things did happen, but the story is one I choose to tell about myself. And that choice doesn’t make it a fiction as it’s as real and powerful as anything in this life.

And so, as you leave here tonight, as you graduate and move on to find your own place in the world, I hope you’ll learn to tell a positive story. A good story. An uplifting story. A story where you’re the hero. Because you are a hero, or at least you can be, if you give it your all, and choose to savor life, and try your best to learn all the positive lessons it has to offer.

Let me close with the words of Mark Twain, who wrote the following to a young friend who was soon to be married: “There isn’t time, so brief is life, for bickerings … heartburnings, [or] callings to account. There is only time for loving, and but an instant, so to speak, for that.”

Thank you.

In Flanders Fields

A red poppy came to symbolize the many who died in World War I based on “In Flanders Fields,” the famous poem by Canadian soldier and surgeon John McCrae. At the time McCrae had been working in a field hospital for seventeen days straight, tending the wounded and the dying from the Second Battle of Ypres. The day before, a close friend had been killed by an artillery shell, and McCrae and others had buried him in a simple grave marked by a cross. The next day, weary of all the blood, death, and suffering and grieving for his friend, McCrae looked out across the fields and saw poppies growing between some of the older crosses in the cemetery and bobbing in the wind. In just a few minutes he composed the three stanzas of “In Flanders Fields,” a poem he discarded because he wasn’t happy with it. A fellow officer picked it up and submitted it to several publications in the U.K., including the London-based magazine Punch, which published it in December of 1915. McRae himself would not survive the war. He died of pneumonia in January, 1918, at the age of 46.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

 

100 years later, the poem still reminds us of the costs of freedom and the costs of war. Grateful for all those who’ve served, including my father, Glenn Hawkes, and a great uncle, William Alfred Stokes, who fought for Britain in World War I.

Here’s a haunting version of “In Flanders Fields,” recited by Leonard Cohen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKoJvHcMLfc, worth a watch and a listen.

2018 Ballot Propositions (and other stuff)

Hi Everyone:

Several high profile issues will be on the ballot this November. As a lot of people have asked for my opinion on these issues, I wanted to share some broad perspectives and some resources with you, trusting that you will study the issues thoughtfully and thoroughly and draw your own conclusions.

Here’s what follows:
(1) An overview of the types of voter questions that will appear on the ballot this November with links to the specific questions and resources to help you get informed about them.
(2) Some thoughts about the processes/pitfalls associated with each type.
(3) A brief description and some thoughts about the specific questions on the ballot.

The goal here is to provide you with what I hope is helpful information, presented in a reasonably clear and user-friendly way. If you read through all of that and find you are still confused on some of the initiative questions, no worries—you’re in good company. These represent complex and challenging questions of public policy.

What Types of Questions are on the Ballot?

There are three types: Propositions (3), a non-binding opinion question (1), and proposed Constitutional Amendments (3). I’ll explain each type below.

The best place for general information on these ballot questions can be found here: https://elections.utah.gov/2018-election-information–a site maintained by the Lieutenant Governor’s Office that describes the proposed amendment, proposition, or question, its fiscal implications, and, in most cases arguments pro and con. (Please note that these are written by proponents or opponents–not by the Lieutenant Governor’s Office or other neutral observer. As such, they should be viewed as subjective arguments by persons with a vested interest in the outcome. Still, there’s considerable value in reading both perspectives.)

How Do the Types of Questions Differ?

Ballot Propositions (also called “initiatives” or “referenda”) represent legislation through direct, rather than representative, democracy. That gives me heartburn, which is why my default position on any ballot proposition is “no.” (Basically, when in doubt, I vote “no.”) Why? Mostly because that is the way California governs, which is nothing short of a disaster. I’m only half kidding there—I love their beaches and their produce, I just hate the way they run the state. 😉 The more serious reasons are these:

• The Framers of the Constitution had a deep mistrust of direct democracy, believing that popular opinion could too easily swayed. That’s why the Constitution contains no provision for ballot propositions or other forms of direct democracy. Many state constitutions, however, were ratified during an era when there was widespread mistrust of state legislatures. Having a citizen initiative option was viewed as providing a safety valve and an insurance against corruption. A noble goal, but …
• Ballot propositions have no checks and balances. Under the Constitution (federal and state) bills undergo a rigorous vetting process. Once a bill is drafted it must be considered by House or Senate Committee, then pass the full House or Senate, then go to the other House for consideration, then go to the Governor for veto or signature.
• Ballot propositions cannot be amended. At any stage in the process outlined above, a bill can be amended, and, if amended, in many case must be reconsidered one or more times. In contrast, ballot propositions cannot be amended. They are drafted by (usually) an interest group or groups and then go direct to the voters to be ratified or rejected. If there’s a problem in the drafting, it’s baked in and cannot be fixed.
• In many instances ballot propositions reflect ideas or proposals that failed to make it through normal legislative processes, as such, they are best viewed as an end-around the normal constitutional process for enacting legislation. This year, all three propositions on the ballot represent ideas that failed, in one way or the other, to get through the normal legislative processes. Why some will claim that’s because the legislature is uninformed or corrupt, the fact is that in each instance those who’ve been elected to represent their constituents and to vet legislation–their job in our constitutional system–rejected these proposals (or similar proposals), often after extensive debate and under significant pressure from special interest groups. Those same interest groups often resort to a ballot propositions when their legislative efforts fail, which is exactly what happened here.
• Lastly, ballot propositions often have significant financial implications that cannot be addressed through ordinary means. Any bill that goes through the legislative process that has a funding component must also be funded by legislature through the appropriations process. As initiatives fall outside of that process, there’s no give and take between the initiative costs and other priorities and no clear way for the legislature to deal with the financial implications (particularly unfunded costs) associated with the initiative.

In contrast to ballot propositions, Constitutional Amendments have in all but the rarest of circumstances already gone through the legislative process: a legislator proposes an amendment, and both houses of the legislature (House and Senate) must support it by 2/3rds vote—a higher standard than the usual majority for legislative passage—before it goes to the voters.

If passed, these amendments actually change the wording or structure of Utah’s Constitution. That’s a big deal and that’s why constitutional amendments have a higher standard and go through both the legislature and a popular vote.

Unlike initiatives and constitutional amendments, Opinion Questions have no legal effect. They simply ask voters to express an opinion on a certain issue. While that opinion may, and almost certainly will, carry weight with the legislature, it doesn’t change the law on its own. A subsequent bill would be required to do that. For that reason, a close call on an opinion question—for example 53% for and 47% against—likely won’t lead to legislation. Why? Because divided public opinion does not suggest a clear policy direction. Given that, most legislators will elect to do nothing rather than risk angering roughly half of the voters.

What Questions are on the Ballot This Year?

Because the ballot propositions involve the more thorny policy questions, I’ll address them first, even though they appear last on the ballot itself.

Proposition #2 – Medical marijuana. Most people in Utah support research into marijuana and its derivatives, particularly cannabidiol (or CBD), to treat pain, seizures, and other medical conditions. In that sense, broad majorities support “medical marijuana,” a position confirmed in numerous public opinion surveys on the subject. Where they differ is on what’s meant by the term ‘medical marijuana’ and, more particularly the timing, scope, and scale of providing access to marijuana, particularly whole plant marijuana: to whom is it provided and for what reasons? For example, I strongly support research into marijuana derivatives like CBD and THC provided they are treated like other medicines—i.e., subject to testing and validation protocols and prescribed in specific doses by a treating physician. I strongly oppose the initiative, however, because I think it creates a whole host of problems and potential for abuse, including promoting widespread recreational use under the guise of “medical” marijuana. That gives me real pause as a policy maker, where I am always concerned about unintended consequences of legislation. Rather than list here detailed arguments for and against the proposition, I recommend you read the general information available on the Lieutenant Governor’s website: https://elections.utah.gov/Media/Default/2018%20Election/Issues%20on%20the%20Ballot/Proposition%202%20-%20Ballot%20Title%20and%20Impartial%20Analysis.pdf, as well as three memoranda. The first is a legal analysis of the proposition prepared by the law firm of Kirton & McConkie at the request of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. You can read it here:https://www.mormonnewsroom.org/multimedia/file/Legal-Analysis-of-Utah-Medical-Marijuana-Initiative.pdf (Note: this is a legal analysis, not a summary of the Church’s position.) Initiative proponents respond here: https://libertasutah.org/personal-freedom/a-rebuttal-of-kirton-mcconkies-analysis-of-the-utah-medical-cannabis-act/. Kirton & McConkie respond to that rebuttal in turn here:https://www.scribd.com/document/388803909/LDS-Church-s-response-to-Libertas-Institute#fullscreen&from_embed  I see value in reading the legal arguments for and against to decide for yourself whether you think this proposition should become the law of the State of Utah. After all, that is how we try to resolve legal and policy debates in the United States generally and in Utah in particular: by hearing both sides of the debate make their best arguments.

Proposition #3 – Medicaid expansion. This proposition would raise the state sales tax from 4.70 to 4.85 percent to fund fully expanded Medicaid—basically to provide a government-funded insurance option for everyone below 138% of the federal poverty rate. Overview here: https://elections.utah.gov/Media/Default/2018%20Election/Issues%20on%20the%20Ballot/Proposition%203%20-%20Ballot%20Title%20and%20Impartial%20Analysis.pdf. My concerns with Proposition 3 center around cost, sustainability, and control. While raising the states sales tax should cover Utah’s portion of the expansion for at least a few years, the experience of other states who’ve fully expanded Medicaid suggest that costs will likely outstrip initial projections. If/when that happens, Medicaid, which at nearly half a billion dollars ($483,508,800) in the last fiscal year already represents the single largest expenditure out of the State’s general fund, will compete with other funding priorities like education and transportation for scarce dollars. Moreover, if the federal government unilaterally changes the match for Medicaid dollars from, say, the current 90% federal/10% state match to the more traditional 70% federal/30% state match, the costs to the State of the expansion would triple. That’s why Governor Herbert has called this expansion the “budget buster of all budget busters.” Lastly, there is nothing to suggest that the federal Medicaid program, historically designed to serve uniquely vulnerable populations like the elderly, the mentally ill, or disabled, is anything close to sustainable. To my mind, expanding Medicaid in this way is akin to loading more people onto a sinking ship. This year, the legislature passed—and I supported—a bill to close the coverage gap without significantly increasing the financial risk to the state while simultaneously retaining a much greater degree of state control. That strikes me as a much more cautious and sustainable approach.

Proposition #4 – Changes to the redistricting process. Under existing federal law, boundaries for state and federal legislative districts must equally apportion population based on the most recent federal census. In Utah, that means each house district had roughly 38,000 people and each senate district a little more than 100,000 when those boundaries were drawn based on the 2010 Census. Boundaries cannot be drawn based on racial, religious, or ethnic considerations. Boundaries can, however, reflect party affiliation and voting patterns. So, for example, Utah has in for decades divided up Salt Lake County into several different congressional districts, which has the effect of diluting the influence of Democratic voters. The reverse tends to happen in states with strong Democratic majorities. In contrast, most state legislative seats here in Utah largely track municipal lines, with adjustments as needed to balance the population between districts, which is why our district contains 100% of Centerville and Farmington plus small pieces of West Bountiful and Kaysville, additions needed to get the population of the district to around 38,000.

Better Boundaries, the group pushing this initiative, thinks that the legislature shouldn’t draw district boundaries and that an appointed commission would do a better job. You can read about the proposal here: https://elections.utah.gov/Media/Default/2018%20Election/Issues%20on%20the%20Ballot/Proposition%204%20-%20Ballot%20Title%20and%20Impartial%20Analysis.pdf Personally, I think that you can’t take politics out of the redistricting process, and the net effect of this Proposition is to take power away from Republicans and hand it to Democrats in a heavily Republican state. To see evidence of that, one need look no further than the makeup of the 7-member Commission, which guarantees that, for the foreseeable future, Republicans will control 4 of the 7 appointments and Democrats will control 3 of the 7 appointments regardless of relative party affiliation statewide.So, for example, the most recent voter registration figures for Utah (see here: https://elections.utah.gov/party-and-status) show 748,777 Republican voters and 193,159 Democratic voters. In other words, Republicans outnumber Democrats in the State 4:1—roughly the same percentages we see in the legislature. This Proposition, however, would give Democrats dramatically more say than they would have in the ordinary legislative redistricting process.

Non-Binding Opinion Question #1 – Increasing gas tax for education. The Our Schools Now effort earlier this year proposed to dramatically increase education spending by increasing both property and state sales taxes. Ultimately, proponents hammered out a compromise with the state legislature where the legislature agreed to a couple of measures that would significantly increase education spending as well as submit a non-binding opinion question to voters on raising the state gas tax to increase education spending even more. In exchange, Our Schools Now agreed to abandon their initiative. I supported that compromise. You can read about the opinion question, including arguments pro and con here: https://elections.utah.gov/2018-election-information (scroll down to find it). Personally, I think gas tax is the wrong mechanism for a couple of reasons: first, Utah already has a fairly high gas tax at 29.41 cents/gallon—higher than neighboring states of Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. Second, it represents a declining source of revenue that often falls heaviest on the poorest among us. In other words, as newer cars get more efficient and shift to alternative sources of fuel, revenue declines. Those driving older and generally less efficient cars buy more gas and, in consequence, pay a higher proportion of the taxes. I’ve consistently supported efforts to increase funding for schools—particularly the Weighted Pupil Unit (or “WPU”), a kind of per student block grant that goes to local districts and gives them maximum control over spending. Even so, I think raising the gas tax doesn’t make a lot of sense as a sustainable source of revenue for schools.

Constitutional Amendment A – Calculating out-of-state service for members of the military on active duty to determine whether they qualify for a state property tax exemption. Utah law currently allows a property tax exemption for members of the military on active duty outside the state. This amendment clarifies the way that active duty is calculated for purposes of qualifying for the tax exemption, and basically says that a person qualifies if they spend at least 200 days out of any 365 day period out of state on active duty. I support this amendment, as I believe it clarifies what was already intended.

Constitutional Amendment B – Property tax exemption for property tax leased by a governmental entity. Currently, if a political entity leases property—rather than owns it outright—that entity pays property tax as a portion of their lease payment. Proponents think it’s silly for one governmental entity to pay taxes to another governmental entity or, in some cases, to itself. Opponents think that making that property tax exempt gives entities who lease to the government an unfair advantage, though I think the relevant point is that that “advantage” only occurs if a person is leasing property to a governmental entity. If he/she stops doing so, then the advantage goes away and the lessor pays the same taxes as anyone else. I support this amendment because I agree with the idea that it makes little sense for a taxing entity to pay taxes to itself or to another taxing entity (which simply means that taxpayers pay more for the same governmental service).

Constitutional Amendment C – Special sessions of the state legislature. Currently under the State Constitution, only the Governor can call the legislature into what’s called a special session—basically a special convening of the legislature that allows us to consider and enact laws outside of the regular legislative session. When Congressman Jason Chaffetz vacated his seat earlier this year, state law was unclear about what rules would govern the selection of his replacement. Given that lack of clarity, the Governor claimed that the Lieutenant Governor had the authority, delegated to him by the State legislature, to determine the rules. The legislature contended that the Utah Constitution clearly gives authority over elections to the legislature and that, in consequence, if the rules aren’t clear, the legislature should be the constitutional actor that clarifies the rules. The legislature asked the Governor to call a special session so that it could clarify the rules, but the Governor refused, guaranteeing that the executive branch, rather than the legislative branch, would get to determine the rules for the election. In response, the legislature proposed this Constitutional Amendment, which allows the President of the State Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives to call a special session, under certain conditions, with a vote of 2/3 of the membership of each house. Thirty-five of the fifty U.S. States allow the legislature, in one form or another, to call a special session. If this passes, Utah would become the 36^th.

In addition, the proposed Amendment requires the Governor to do one of two things if, in a given fiscal year, state expenses exceed state revenues (i.e., if the state goes into deficit spending during the course of the fiscal year and before the next legislative session convenes). In that instance, the Governor must either reduce proportionately the amount of money spent to the point that revenues equal expenses OR call the legislature into special session to address the shortfall.

I support this amendment because I think it strengthens constitutional checks and balances for either the Governor or the legislature to be able to call a special session. I also think it promotes fiscal responsibility to make the changes necessary to address the situation in which the state starts to run a budget deficit before the legislature can convene to fix it.

Whew! That’s a lot! If that makes your heard hurt, remember that the legislature considers over 800 bills each session over a seven week period(!), with many of those policy questions every bit as complex (if not more so) than the ones on the ballot this Fall. (Yes, that’s a shameless plea for sympathy.)

If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve found this information helpful.

If you have questions about any of this or if there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. I am up for re-election this fall (my name will be on the ballot along with all of this), and hope I’ve earned your trust to serve for another two years. Thank you for your engagement in this process and for your support over the years.

All the best,

Rep. Tim Hawkes

The Difference Makers

For people like me who want to “make a difference,” the allure of public service is clear: by exercising political power, we have the ability to change the world in positive ways. Lately, however, I’ve been struck by how limiting that view can be. We tend to not only overstate our ability to effect change but the value of that change. Perhaps more importantly, we can overlook the valuable contributions of others.

Who, then, are the real difference makers? As I think back over my life, the difference makers are in many instances teachers, like Mr. Lyde, who taught me to love U.S. history, Jody Heaps, who inspired me to practice public speaking, and Bruce Porter, who challenged the way I thought about government and political power. The difference makers are religious leaders who encouraged and inspired me. The most profound ‘difference maker’ of all? My mother, who taught me to look for the good in others and in the world, to aim high, and to live deliberately. It would be one thing if she had that influence only on her own children, but she had that effect on many as a confidant and friend.

This past Friday, we welcomed another difference maker to the floor of the Utah House of Representatives. Donato “Dominic” Raimondo, one of the so-called “lost boys of South Sudan.” Orphaned by war as a boy, he walked hundreds of miles to a refugee camp in Kenya. He languished there for many years before eventually punching a lucky ticket out of there to Utah, where he began to build a life here. In 2016, he became a U.S. Citizen–a moment of such significance to him that he took on a new name: Donato. Today, he’s working hard and going to college, and he recently became the proud father to a beautiful baby girl. Almost as soon as he arrived in the United States, he began making and selling traditional crafts at art fairs. Why? Because he wanted to raise money to build a school in his home town of Loudo.

He told me that it was one of the great honors of his life to lead the Pledge of Allegiance on the House floor, but in truth we were honored by his presence, because he’s a difference maker–a doer, a giver–his contributions no less valuable because they are made quietly and out of the spotlight.

In short, each of us can be a difference maker by simply acting within our sphere of influence–no matter how small or large–to make the world better for our time in it. When we offer a helping hand, give a friend a shoulder to cry on, mentor a young person, volunteer to serve in our community, choose to meet hostility with kindness, and in a myriad other ways help and encourage others, we make the kind of difference that matters most.

Understanding Bears Ears and the Antiquities Act

Political debates often coalesce around competing narratives that, too often, wind up far removed from the facts. Debates surrounding the Bears Ears National Monument exemplify this tendency. What I try to do below through a series of questions is to unpick some of those narratives and to clarify some of the facts–facts that point up the complexity of the issue and that undermine the over-simplified narratives that, sadly, often get amplified by the media. I do so with a particular goal in mind, namely this: to the extent we get wrapped up in debating false or exaggerated narratives, more fundamental goals like protecting natural resources and/or strengthening rural economies tend to fall by the wayside. In fact, we may even end up harming those goals because, in a very real sense, we start debating the wrong issues.

Are these landscapes worth protecting? Absolutely. Over the years, I’ve grown to love this landscape–not for its dramatic vistas (though it offers some of those) but rather for its “living museum” quality and the way it slowly yields its secrets to the patient and the persistent. The region lacks the dramatic, grand scale cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde, some 30 miles to the East, but offers treasures of a less ostentatious sort: quiet canyons, soaring ravens, lonely mesas, crumbling, smaller-scale ruins perched on a cliff edge or tucked into a sandstone alcove, 700 year old fingerprints pressed into a piece of clay, brightly colored potsherds weathering away in the desert sun. This isn’t Zions, with its soaring canyon walls, Bryce with its ramparts of pastel towers, or Canyonlands with its infinite horizons and myriad overlooks. Points of interest here tend to be spread out, smaller, little known, and the coolest stuff may not be the most obvious: a random and ordinary-looking hill in this part of the world may be the remains of an ancient city. This path, a road built by an ancient people. This corn cob, the remains of an ancient meal. Fortunately, the distance of this area from population centers coupled with a lack of big, headliner attractions means a (relative) lack of people. That’s changing–a process that debates over the monument has only accelerated–and, sadly, all that increased interest and traffic threatens some of the very values that make this place special in the first place.

Are these landscapes–or at least a portion of them–worth protecting under the Antiquities Act? Yes! If the primary purpose of the Act is to protect antiquities generally (and its original impetus to protect Native American ruins and artifacts in particular), then creating a monument to protect the many archaeological resources in this area makes sense–far more sense, frankly, than many other monuments created in recent years to protect landscapes with nary an antiquity in sight. Of course, the analysis can’t end there, however. Legitimate questions remains as to the proper size and boundaries of such a monument, which brings us to the next set of questions …

Did President Trump act lawfully in cutting the size of the monument? How about President Obama in declaring such a large monument in the first place? Few people realize that the Antiquities Act itself is fairly simple and straightforward. It runs all of four paragraphs. You can read the entirety of it here in just a few minutes: https://www.nps.gov/history/local-law/anti1906.htm. Enacted in 1906 in an effort to protect archaeological resources in the southwestern United States from widespread looting by pothunters and treasure seekers, Section 1 of the Act imposes modest penalties–fines of “not more than five hundred dollars” and imprisonment of “not more than ninety days”–in an effort to protect such resources and other antiquities (like dinosaur bones) located on federal lands.

Those provisions are rarely invoked because other federal laws provide more robust protections for Indian ruins and dinosaur bones. The hotly disputed portion of the Antiquities Act comes in Section 2, which grants the President of the United States:  

The authority, in his discretion, to declare by public proclamation historic landmarks, historic and prehistoric structures, and other objects of historic or scientific interest that are situated upon the lands owned or controlled by the Government of the United States to be national monuments, and may reserve as a part thereof parcels of land, the limits of which in all cases shall be confined to the smallest area compatible with proper care and management of the objects to be protected … .

That single sentence largely defines the terms of the legal debate over the actions of Presidents Obama and Trump as they relate to Bears Ears. Under a plain reading of the text, the act of “declaring a … national monument” falls within broad (but not unfettered) discretion given by Congress to the President. But does the word “declare” include the power to revise the boundaries of a monument designated by a prior President? If a President “declares” new boundaries–as several presidents before Trump have done–does that fall within the scope of his authority to “declare” a monument? How about to rescind a prior declaration? Finally, were the original boundaries as declared by President Obama “confined to the smallest area compatible with proper care and management of the objects to be protected”? That’s an important limitation on the President’s power. Was it honored with the original Obama declaration, the Trump revision, both, or neither? You decide. (By way of reference, you can read the Obama Declaration here: https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2016/12/28/proclamation-establishment-bears-ears-national-monument and the Trump Declaration here: https://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2017/12/04/presidential-proclamation-modifying-bears-ears-national-monument.)

A few additional questions to consider:

Is this all about energy? If you buy into the hype, this debate is about either a “big oil conspiracy to rape and pillage a sacred landscape” (at one extreme) or “securing the economic future for rural Utah” (at the other). In truth, it’s neither. Why? For starters, the energy development potential of lands that fell within the original Obama Declaration and that now fall outside the Monument boundaries is low (see here for a reasonably objective point of reference: https://naturalresources.utah.gov/dnr-newsfeed/very-little-energy-potential-within-bears-ears-national-monument), meaning two things: first, it can’t be a ‘big oil conspiracy’ because big oil is, quite simply, not all that interested (either in destroying artifacts generally or developing this area in particular); second, reducing the size of the monument boundaries can’t be the salvation of rural Utah because–again–the high paying energy jobs that might be expected if this landscape were rich in energy potential won’t materialize because that potential simply isn’t there.

If the energy issue is over-hyped than what is this really about? Having spent a lot of time involved in this issue in one way or the other over the years, my sense is that Bears Ears represents something of a proxy war over a range of issues: federal overreach, county roads (RS-2477) and OHV use, climate change, and rural economic development–at least those and maybe more. The point is this: it’s complicated, and a lot of different agendas push and pull the debate away from a productive discussion about how to best protect the resources in question and the quality of life of the people who live there.  

Did either President Obama’s declaration or President Trump’s declaration shift control of these lands from the federal control to state control? No. That’s an uninformed myth at best, a calculated distortion at worst. Neither declaration transferred so much as an inch of ground into or out of federal control. The sole debate involves the type of federal control and management, rather than federal v state or public v private control. Chances are that if someone makes such arguments about Bears Ears they are either (a) woefully misinformed, or (b) demagoguing the issue in an effort to manipulate your opinion. (That NEVER happens in public policy debates, right?!)

Are the lands that now fall outside the monument boundaries unprotected now that the boundaries have changed? No. All of the other federal laws and regulatory restrictions–NEPA, Wilderness Act, Endangered Species Act, Paleontological Resources Preservation Act, Archaeological Resources Protection Act, etc.–still apply. It simply means that protections associated with the Antiquities Act no longer apply. What does that mean in practice? It means that some of these lands are again open to applications to drill for oil or mine for minerals, subject to all other federal rules and regulations. Moreover, as we’ve already established, there really isn’t a lot potential for that on these lands, suggesting again that debates about energy are largely a sideshow.   

How were Native American perspectives considered in the process? Which Native American Voices? How should they be? This may be one of the most interesting aspects of the debate. Why? Because Native American voices are not uniform on the issue, nor do they have an equal claim to the federal (non-reservation) lands in question. The Native American group most directly affected by the monument designation–Navajos living in Utah–tend to oppose the original designation and to support the move to reduce the Monument’s size or eliminate it altogether. On the other hand, a fairly broad coalition of Native American tribes called the Bears Ears Inter-Tribal Coalition, made up of the Hopi, Navajo Nation, Ute Mountain, Zuni, and Ute Indian tribes, supported the original Obama designation and opposed the Trump designation that reduced the Monument’s size.

While perspectives on the Monument vary, so do cultural and historic ties to the Ancestral Puebloan ruins and artifacts that dot this landscape. The word “Anasazi” has fallen out of favor in recent years and with good reason, as it’s a Navajo word that means “ancient enemy.” The Navajo settled this region after the civilization that built the ruins vanished, and the Navajo must have, at some point in their history, had conflict with that civilization. Likely, the most direct descendants of those people are the present day Puebloan tribes, including two members of the Inter-Tribal Coalition, the Hopis and the Zunis. Given that, how much weight should their opinions carry? Should it trump the views of Navajos who live in closest proximity and who have at least a few hundred years worth of history of their own tied to this place? Those aren’t easy questions to answer.

Nor is it clear how Monument designation either helps or hinders Native American interests. This is one of the poorest regions in the continental United States. Large swaths of the Navajo Nation still lack access to basic necessities like running water. Given that, what benefits local Native Americans more: natural resource development, tourism, or resource protection? Which of those goals are favored (or disfavored) by a designation? Should any one of these goals be elevated at the expense of the the others?

Lastly, even if the goal is preservation of cultural history (antiquities), which level of designation best promotes that goal? While Monument status may preclude some types of development, it also encourages tourism and outdoor recreation, both of which can do plenty of damage to sensitive cultural resources over the long term, particularly as increasing numbers of ignorant (if well-meaning) tourists flood into this remote landscape with very few resources available to manage all of that new use. Many of the most popular ruins in this area are already all-but devoid of artifacts. (The better known, the more they tend to be “swept clean.”) Pristine petroglyph panels have become marred by graffiti. Foot traffic and “look, I’m in a ruin!” selfies threaten thousand year old adobe walls.   

That perspective is well-represented in this thoughtful op-ed published by Jim Stiles in the Denver Post last April: https://www.denverpost.com/2017/04/08/national-monument-status-is-not-enough-to-protect-bears-ears/

My point in all of this–again–is to point up some of the complexities associated with this debate and to undermine over-simplified narratives that tend to distort the real issues: how to we promote real and sustainable economic development, responsible energy development and tourism, and the preservation of priceless national and cultural treasures? Those goals are not mutually exclusive, though I fear superficial debates that either glorify or vilify monument status may jeopardize all of them. We can do better.  

Bears Ears and the Outdoor Retailers

Ancestral Puebloan ruin within the boundaries of the Bears Ears National Monument

After threats and rumblings about Utah’s public lands policies for years, a vanguard of outdoor retailers issued a Valentine’s Day ultimatum: “Agree with us or else.” Just two days later, the Outdoor Retailers (OR) announced that they would not return to Utah after the show’s contract expires in 2018 — a hair-trigger response that seems to confirm they never intended to engage in serious dialog in the first place.

In doing so, they removed themselves entirely from the debate over public lands in Utah. Perhaps that’s for the best if their approach to dialog means embracing over-simplified narratives and a perverse kind of public policy hostage taking: “Do what we want, or we’ll kill the hostage,” which in this instance is the many small businesses that depend on the biannual show.

Why such a drastic step? In the name of protecting public lands, says OR, and the public’s access to those lands. Ironically, however, few Utahns — from the governor on down — would argue with either goal. To cries of, “Keep public lands in public hands,” the vast majority of Utahns would answer, “Amen!”

Like so many who live here, I love our public lands. I’ve slithered through slot canyons, thrilled at the cry of the canyon wren and seen up close thousand-year-old fingerprints pressed into adobe walls — experiences no museum can replicate. My family and I have crisscrossed the state, including many of the spectacular natural areas that fall within the Bears Ears National Monument. We treasure those places and spaces, the kind that draw tourists from all over the world who seek the singular outdoor experiences to be found here — experiences that fuel the OR industry so determined to leave.

The trouble is that OR conflates support for public lands with support for top-down, coercive policies that often disregard meaningful local involvement or the need to balance environmental stewardship with legitimate needs for energy and rural economic development.

Energy jobs in Utah pay nearly double the average wage and, in rural areas like San Juan County, provide desperately needed income, tax revenue and social stability. Little wonder that many in those areas greet federal actions that limit or restrict those opportunities with resentment and outright hostility. Tourism and recreation create jobs, too, but often minimum-wage and seasonal ones. In reality, we need both, but that bespeaks a balance lost in OR’s strident condemnation of anything short of unequivocal support for a range of coercive and unilateral federal actions.

Can’t one believe in protecting Bears Ears but think that protection is best accomplished in ways that don’t involve expansive use of the Antiquities Act? That some of these places may need less publicity rather than more? That a push for some state control — or at least more effective state involvement — does not mean selling off our collective birthright to the highest bidder?

Apparently not, to OR’s way of thinking, which is why their voice won’t be missed. Shrilly condemning others or attempting to punish them without first trying to understand their perspective represents politics at its ugliest and worst.

Finally, the concept of “multiple use” isn’t just a slogan or a smoke-screen for efforts to degrade the environment. It’s an ethic woven into this landscape for millennia, an ethic we all participate in whether we want to or not. After all, the climbers, hikers and bikers in Utah who sport OR apparel and use OR gear will almost certainly traverse roads blazed by miners and loggers, driving cars run on oil drilled from deep beneath the red rock and, at the end of a long day, dine on beef reared on public lands.

The stark choice between protecting public lands and supporting policies that would destroy everything we hold dear is a false one. The question isn’t whether we protect these lands, but rather how we do so, and an honest dialogue on that score remains key to our future.

The OR show may leave the state, but its customers won’t. They’ll be drawn back again and again to these landscapes that beckon them, raw and wild, and to a state that remains heavily invested in protecting and promoting access to public lands.

Note: This originally appeared as an op-ed in the Salt Lake Tribune on Feb 21, 2017