FIVE POINTS: Frosted Flakes of Scorn
1. The passage of a congressional budget resolution is less important than you think. After the passage of the FY2018 congressoinal budget resolution in the House this week, there was some hyperbolic writing in the past few days about what passing a congressional budget resolution does. It doesn't ensure GOP majoritarian tax reform will happen. It doesn't cut trillions of dollars of federal spending. And it certainly doesn't require anyone to balance the budget. And this year it won't even cap discretionary spending in FY2018. Here's what a congressional budget resolution does do:
It sets spending limits for the appropriations committee for the current fiscal year. Since the budget resolution isn't a law, it can't actually increase or decrease spending. All it can do is create rules for Congress that individual members can then enforce through points of order. Arguably the most important rule is section 302(a) of the Budget Act, which ultimately caps the total amount of funding Congress can appropriate for discretionary spending in the current fiscal year. But this doesn't even matter this year, because the Budget Control Act---an actual law passed by Congress---already statutorily caps that spending at specific levels, and enforces its caps through sequestration of funds if the caps are broken. So the budget resolution's caps are largely irrelevant.
It sets unenforceable goals for direct spending and out-year spending. The budget resolution also sets targets for direct spending (spending mandated by formula under law, like entitlement programs) for the current fiscal year, as well as targets for discretionary and mandatory spending in out-years. Most of these caps are enforceable, because mandatory spending continues absent congressional action, and the out-year goals won't even matter until the next budget resolution next year. Now, the caps can constrain new mandatory spending (and there are other mechanisms to do this as well), but in terms of cutting existing mandatory spending, the budget resolution is basically toothless. That's why the rosy projections of balanced budgets achieved on trillions of dollars of cuts over 10 years are so silly. They rely, in part, on authorizing committees reporting out legislation that drastically cuts mandatory programs, year after year. It doesn't happen and it won't happen.
It does allow one mechanism for forcing changes in mandatory spending. A budget resolution may provide reconciliation instructions to committees seeking to adjust mandatory spending or revenue. These provisions are enforceable, as the budget committee has, in theory, tools to extract such legislation from committees that don't cooperate. In addition, the reconciliation process provides for majoritarian consideration in the Senate (so long as certain substantive and procedural boundaries are observed), which is why it is being used in recent times to try to pass high profile partisan legislation like ACA repeal or tax reform. The budget resolution that just passed does provide such reconciliation instructions, asking the tax committees to write legislation that reduces revenue by no more than $1.5 trillion over 10 years.
It doesn't guarantee the passage of any specific actual legislation. The budget resolution is the starting point for both the discretionary appropriations process and the reconciliation process. It is true that the Republicans are closer to achieving partisan tax reform than they were two days ago, but it is far, far from a done deal. The age of partisanship has lulled many people into the incorrect assumption that any bill privileged with majoritarian consideration in the Senate will naturally pass. It will not. ACA repeal failed, nominations have been withdrawn, and lots of legislation is sitting on the sidelines for lack of 50 votes in the Senate, nevermind 60. Tax reform may pass on a party line vote, but the budget resolution is more like the first step than the penultimate one.
The bottom line is that not passing a congressional budget resolution would have been something of a big deal. And that's really the only reason passing one is important at all this year.
2. Read this tweetstorm on the office dynamics of the Hill regarding sexual harassment. One thing that has been left out of this debate, by and large, is the unique culture of the Hill. These tweets efficiently put into perspective just how tricky the professional environment can be for young women.
3. Senator Flake is one of the nicest people in Congress. Jeff Flake, junior Senator from Arizona and longstanding GOP critic of the president, announced he will not run for reelection in 2018. His criticisms of the president and his somewhat unorthodox-for-conservative-Arizona positions on immigration and trade had him trailing his presumed primary challenger badly in most state polls. It appears likely that Senator Flake is about to assume the mantle of Senator Corker and become a strong critic of the Trump administration. A number of writers late this week criticized Flake and Corker as being cowards for retiring and then going on the attack against Trump, rather than staying and fighting, but as with Jonathan Bernstein, I strongly disagree with that take. Losing a reelection in 2018 to a Trump candidate can't possibly be a better play than letting the GOP business conservatives endorse an non-Trump candidate with more mainstream Arizona GOP positions. And that's likely to happen if Rep. McSally gets into the race.
Senator Flake will be missed. People on the Hill always talk about "disagreeing without being disagreeable," but Flake embodied that. Everyone liked him. If you let the Democrats pick the conservative Senators, I have no doubt they put Flake at the top of the list. On a more personal level, I've always thought Jeff Flake was one of the nicest members. I didn't work with his Senate office much, but I was in his House office a fair amount over the course of six months about a decade ago. Representatives are super busy people, but the first time I met with him, he spent almost five minutes asking me about my family and my background before any work commenced. And then the next time we met, a few weeks later, he half-remembered, and was basically embarrassed he didn't fully remember. And after that, he never forgot. Unusual, to say the least. He was unfailingly polite in meetings, generally thoughtful about his policy choices, and always asked great questions. But most importantly, he was extremely kind to his staff. That's my single-variable proxy for judging a member. And Flake was obviously a wonderful boss.
4. If you want a serious, thought-provoking deep dive on political theory, read this. Will Wilkinson, of the libertarian Niskanen Center, wrote a masterful critique of "ideal theory." This sort of stuff is not everyone's cup of tea, but if it is, this is a must read.
5. You should listen to The Figgs. Whenever people query my favorite band, I hem and haw, but I ultimately say it's The Figgs. Somewhere caught between punk and power-pop, they've spent three decades as one of the critics' "best bands you've never heard of." I have a soft spot of nostalgia for them because they are from Saratoga, NY and my wife and I used to sneak into bars as teenagers to see their raucous live shows. But their two major label releases, 1994's Lo-Fi at Society High and 1996's Banda Macho are both excellent, and their whole catalog is impressive. If you are interested, start with Favorite Shirt or Shut, or FTMU.
See you next time (probably end of next week). Thanks for reading!