Form follows function for Kansas Legislature

We can't call it dysfunction when it works exactly as designed

In the worlds of architecture and design, there’s an understanding of the direct relationship between the way a thing is designed and the way it works.

For example, the form of a minivan follows its function to provide seating for a bunch of children. The form of a pick-up truck likewise follows its function - which is less about hauling children to soccer practice and more about hauling and towing stuff.

It seems to reason that this idea would apply equally to institutions like the Kansas Legislature.

At a legislative forum a few weeks ago, I said that the legislature was comprised largely of men, who are retired, wealthy, or otherwise positioned to have enough money and time to allow them to serve. Relatively speaking, there are few women, few parents of young children, few young-ish people, few people of color, and I suspect almost no one who lives near or below the poverty line.

That is the form of the Kansas legislature - in 2020 it was 72 percent male, 92 percent white, 36 percent Baby Boomer (though there’s some missing data in the 2020 survey. In 2015 it was 66 percent Baby Boomer, and I don’t see evidence that’s changed substantially toward a younger make up. Only 9 percent is listed as GenX, 2 percent as Millennial, and no Gen Z members. Recent reporting puts the median age of the House at 61).

So then, if this is its form, what does that say about the Kansas Legislature’s function? I’ll let you answer that for yourself, but we can draw conclusions not just from its form, but from the way it functions.

While Kansans voted overwhelmingly last year to keep the Kansas Legislature out of woman’s medical decisions, the legislature is promoting a number of bills designed to insert itself into the matter, regardless of what voters said.

Likewise on the public vote on regulations - Kansans rejected the measure at the ballot box, but the state’s biggest businesses are here once again trying to find a work around.

And I can’t even begin to list the weirdness that happens in the budgeting process, where lobbyists work to craft little pots of taxpayer money to funnel to their for-profit clients’ companies.

We know that most Kansans want Medicaid Expansion - and some communities are all but begging for it. But the legislature hasn’t had a serious conversation about it for years - despite repeated efforts to address every concern the Republican Supermajority has ever raised.

Same with medical marijuana. It’s overwhelmingly popular among voters in Kansas - and people have generally been asking for this common-sense policy for years. But a handful of people in the legislature have decided they know better what we can handle and have stood in the way for a long time.

While most Kansans I’ve met are by default charitable people who live their Christian duty to help the poor and serve humanity, we have an entire committee dedicated to stripping vulnerable Kansans of assistance - a committee in which most of the ideas and testimony come from people who want to import demonstrably bad policy from Florida and Maine.

And then there’s that much ballyhooed flat tax that’s supposed to save everyone money. Even a cursory examination reveals it doesn’t save most Kansans any real money. For those earing between $40,000 and $80,000 the savings aren’t worth counting. But the big dollar earners save handsomely - and as such, there’s a huge push to make the flat tax a reality in Kansas.

All the while, we’ve heard a bill that would create a forever sales tax exemption for some of the world’s richest companies (think Facebook, Google, Amazon) and just recently we heard a bill that was trying to route $10 million into the hands of a for-profit company under the guise of expanding child care capacity in the state.

Sure, they’re both tools. But try turning a screw with a hammer.

I sometimes make the joke that if someone was bleeding to death in the capitol, everyone in the building would look around to see if there was a way to make money before deciding to offer aid.

But it’s less of a joke than an observation. In my view, it’s clear that the legislature’s function is largely about making money. Alarmingly too few conversations here start with people at the core. More often than not conversations begin, and end, with money - who makes it, who takes it, and who gets more of it.

Money, in and of itself, isn’t bad. Neither is wanting to make some of it. And in many instances creating opportunities to make money is good for most people.

But when an institution looks singularly through the lens of profit, and prioritizes it as our highest shared value, I fear we’re unable to see our true purpose - serving the people of Kansas.