During my time as a newspaper editor in the late 1980s and early 1990s, we didn't have the Internet -- much less data-enabled mobile devices -- to provide reams of real-time data at our fingertips. We relied on printed directories for vital information about many of the governmental agencies we covered.
Each year, my newspaper invested in a thick book offered by Clark Publishing called The Kentucky Gold Book. It was an invaluable resource for information on who was who in Kentucky politics. We referred to it often if we needed to call someone in Frankfort for details on a story.
I always perused each new edition of the Gold Book to learn my way around the labyrinth of state government, and one thing that always amazed me was the number of school teachers and principals who served in the General Assembly.
I had questions, such as, "How can these people leave their jobs for 60 days every two years to go serve in Frankfort? Doesn't it do a disservice to the students to have long-term teacher absences? How can these school districts justify paying these employees when they have these scheduled absences?"
Obviously, I knew that everyone who serves in the General Assembly has to leave work during a legislative session. My own representative worked for the railroad. But I figured that educators serving in the legislature was a different scenario, especially since tax dollars were involved. Were the needs of the students being served?
When I left the field of journalism to take a merit system job in state government in 1995, I had to learn an entirely new set of operating rules. One eye-opening thing was the legal prohibition of civil service employees from holding partisan political office. Classified state workers under the merit system have to resign before they can even file to run for a partisan office. The only elective offices state employees can run for or hold are non-partisan positions such as school board, city councils, soil conservation boards, and other such offices.
In fact, state employees chafe under a number of restrictions on political activity that don't apply to other individuals on the public payroll.
Compare what state workers can do while engaging in the political process to the activities in which public school employees can participate. It's a glaring double standard. State workers can't organize fundraisers or bundle campaign contributions. They can't take part in certain campaign events or political organizations. They can't be local party officials. And even within the limits of what is allowed, a double standard exists. My hometown of Beattyville elects its mayor and city council members on a non-partisan ballot, so state workers are allowed to run for municipal office. One county seat west, in Irvine, the mayor and council candidates run under partisan ballots, so state workers can't run for or hold office there. There's no logic in that discrepancy.
Teachers? They can do all those things and more. There are really no restriction on what they can do politically. They can chair political campaigns or local party organizations. They can raise funds and pass out campaign literature. And they can hold partisan political office. After this year's redistricting takes effect for the 2023 General Assembly session, my representative will be someone who's a school principal in Jackson County.
This is hypocrisy codified. Teachers are one of the biggest politically active groups out there. They're loud and they're influential. But are they more important than social workers, corrections officers, state troopers, snowplow drivers, or others who are paid with tax dollars and perform vital public services? Why should they have privileges that other public employees don't?
Not all that long ago, Harry Moberly was one of the most influential members of the House of Representatives. He was the longtime chairman of the Appropriations and Revenue Committee when Democrats controlled state government. He was also a high-ranking administrator at Eastern Kentucky University, meaning he was able to use his legislative position to funnel state funds to EKU. Wasn't this an obvious conflict of interest? If an employee of a state university can serve in the legislature, why can't an engineer with the Transportation Cabinet or a Kentucky State Police detective or an auditor with the Department of Revenue?
There's an obvious fairness solution here. Much of KRS 18A needs to be repealed to give state employees the same political and First Amendment rights as other public employees. There's absolutely no common-sense reason that state merit system workers can't do the same things in the political process as a tenured school teacher.
Failing that, public school employees who serve in the legislature should be prohibited from voting on matters pertaining to education. There are ethics laws and policies that prevent the state from awarding contracts to businesses connected to certain officials. Shouldn't that extend to legislators voting to fund their employers? Should a public school employee be allowed to funnel money to his or her school district via the Department of Education?
Don't look for this statutory hypocrisy to be corrected anytime soon. Teachers wield a lot of political clout in Kentucky, and they don't want their influence to be curtailed, eliminated, or diluted. So expect the state to have to endure this double standard from now on, when certain voices are amplified and others are muted.
