FLEXIBLE SESSIONS Looking back . . . 'Flexible sessions' called most radical change in history of Minnesota politics Nearly 20 years ago, Minnesota voters approved a constitutional amendment that has been described as "the most radical change in the history of Minnesota politics." Tired of meeting every other year and rushing through the state's business, the Minnesota Legislature placed a question on the 1972 ballot that asked voters whether the Legislature should be allowed to meet every year. The voters approved the amendment by a 61.6 percent-to-38.4 percent margin, and 1972 has been characterized as a pivotal year in Minnesota state politics ever since. But whether the change is good or bad is still subject to debate -- just as it was nearly 20 years ago. In 1972 most Minnesotans believed, as did people across the country, that the change was long overdue. Nationally, 21 states changed to an annual system between 1962 and 1972. "The day is gone when you could go down to St. Paul and put 60 days in your back pocket every other year and kind of watchdog things and enjoy the process," said former Sen. Keith Hughes of St. Cloud, co-author of the flexible session bill. Following the longest special session in history in 1971, legislators retired in droves from both the House and Senate. That was the year the Legislature met in special session for 159 days to pass what later became known as the "Minnesota Miracle." But the long hours, frenetic pace, and low pay ($4,800) led many lawmakers to call it quits. "I call 40 hours a week full-time, and I put that in by Wednesday noon in an average session," then --Sen.William Dosland of Moorhead said at the time. A joint legislative committee appointed to study the issue of "flexible sessions" found that for more than 20 years the orderly completion of business "has been the single greatest problem of the Minnesota Legislature." "The workload measured in the number of bills or complexity of problems has rapidly increased each session," concluded the study. "The constitutional time frame fails to keep pace." The study also found that 1953 was the only year in the state's history that lawmakers adjourned on time. Increasingly, state legislatures across the country were being characterized as 19th century relics that were incapable of dealing with the 20th century tasks before them. Proponents of the amendment said annual sessions would allow for a more in-depth study of issues, and greatly curtail the reliance on lobbyists for information -- data that could then be compiled more objectively by lawmakers and their support staff. away with citizen legislators which the biannual process nurtured. Opponents argued the annual meetings would create an expensive body of "professional legislators," and do And while it seems clear that the full-time legislator prophecy has some merit, some view the evolution as good. "I always thought the opposite of professional was amateur, and I don't think anybody wants a group of amateurs making decisions for the state," said U.S. Rep. Martin Sabo (D-Minn), the state House minority leader in 1972 and later speaker of the House. He says nothing but good has come from the shift to annual sessions. So, too, does Rep. Willard Munger (DFL-Duluth), now serving his 35th year in the House. "If you want to take care of the people back home, and take care of the state's business the way it should be taken care of, it's a full-time job," said Munger. "When you tried to cram everything into 90 days, the way it was when I first came here . . . it was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't do it. . . I think it's [annual sessions] the best thing that ever happened." And although former state Sen. Jack Davies, now a Minnesota Court of Appeals judge, said the move to annual sessions was a good one, there were some drawbacks. "It did become nearly impossible for us to maintain outside careers," said Davies, suggesting that it actually hurt the Legislature because it discouraged talented but busy people from running for office. He called the shift to annual sessions "the most radical change in the history of Minnesota politics . . . . "Returning the next January was wonderful for the exchange of new ideas, and for a thorough examination of those ideas." Although the legislative pace was perceived as hectic back in the early 1970s, it has become much more so lately. The 1989-90 Session produced a record 15,156 pages in the Journal of the House -- more than double the 7,199 pages in the 1973-74 Journal. But those who abhor the "full-time legislator" label can point to the dramatic increase since 1972 in the numbers of lawmakers who call themselves full-time. According to Royce Hanson's Tribune of the People, only one House member listed "legislator" as an occupation up until 1975, when four did. That number has grown steadily over the past 15 years. In 1991, 19 House members listed legislator as their sole occupation, eight listed it as their primary occupation while also citing a secondary job, and seven more listed it as a secondary occupation. Combined, these figures account for just over 25 percent of House membership. Former U.S. and state representative Arlan Stangeland was one of only 11 dissenting votes on the flexible session bill when it was presented for final passage in the House. "I didn't believe the change was necessary then, and I still don't," he said. "As long as we're allowed to be there, [in session], we'll find a reason to stay. It [the flexible session] has caused a move away from a citizen legislature, and toward a body of full-time, professional lawmakers." The shift has caused some other changes that some may perceive as undesirable. Legislators' salaries have increased steadily, from about $4,800 in 1972 to the current figure of $27,979. Likewise, the staff at the Legislature has increased. In 1972, there were only about 60 full-time House employees. Today, there are about 260. But even Stangeland doesn't criticize the large staff increase. "Given the exponential increase of information, and the nature of today's complex issues, every one of those staff members is needed," he said. While some look back to the biannual sessions with fondness, remembering the era as a more simple time, it could be argued that nothing has changed at all between then and now. Indeed, an 1876 editorial in the Chatfield Democrat made the Legislature sound just as busy then as it is today. "Important bills appear thick and fast, but of course needing such scrutiny as cannot be given. A member of standing is called upon every ten minutes . . . letters pouring in, even telegrams . . . all to be answered in a minute or two. Bills are being read, rolls called, members talking, and all working an average of eighteen hours a day. There is no wonder that strange laws are made." -- John T. Tschida Time and Legislature at odds The concept of time and the Minnesota Legislature have always been at odds. To gain the upper hand, lawmakers have historically tinkered with the state Constitution to allow more time to complete their business, even going so far as to redefine a "legislative day." When the state Constitution was adopted in 1857, no limit was placed on the number of days the Legislature could meet. Three years later, sessions were limited to 60 days. In 1877, lawmakers decided to meet every other year for 60 days. In 1888, the number of days was allowed to reach 90. The length of sessions remained at a maximum of 90 days until 1962, when legislators placed the ceiling at 120 days. But 120 days then meant something completely different than 120 days today. A day then was measured consecutively, meaning that the clock began ticking the moment the Legislature convened, excluding Sundays. The adoption of the flexible session amendment in 1972 kept the 120-day limit and allowed that time to be spread over two years. But HF1 in 1973 redefined a legislative day. It defined legislative day as just those days when either body meets in floor Session, and didn't include the days when only committees met. So the clock now ticks only during floor sessions, giving the Legislature much more time to complete its business. Typically, early in a session, the House is called to order only twice a week. It's also important to remember that the new 'flexible session' amendment didn't require that annual sessions be held; it simply allowed for their existence. But there are some constraints on use of the 120 days. The Constitution also requires that the Legislature meet no later than the first Monday following the third Saturday in May. That's the time the Legislature typically adjourns in the first year of the biennium; the time frame of the second year is constrained by the number of available "legislative days" left over from the first year and by the first-Monday-following-the-third-Saturday limit. This "flexible" system is the only one like it in the country. Originally printed in 1991 in Session Weekly, a weekly newsmagazine published by the Minnesota House Public Information Office. ***Last Update 8/5/94 (jtt) Last Review 8/5/94 (jtt) ***