A New Game: Mix ‘n’ Match Propositions

In the long afternoons around the Capitol, you can sit in the bars with the political junkies and play a new game. Just take a combination of propositions from the fall ballot, assume they will pass, and then try to predict all the possible repercussions. You might call this the Game of Unintended Consequences, and it produces some remarkable results.

Try this one, for example. First suppose that Prop. 134 (nickel-a-drink) and Prop. 129 (drug war) and Prop. 133 (drug war II) all get passed in a groundswell of support for sin taxes and safe streets. Then assume that Prop. 136 (son of Gann) also gets approved.

Prop. 136, it turns out, contains a poison pill that--in all probability--would invalidate the tax provisions in the first three initiatives. Without the taxes, what would happen to the drug wars and the alcohol rehab programs of nickel-a-drink? Would they dip into the General Fund for their billions in costs, or disappear altogether? No one knows.

The Unintended Consequence.

Here’s another: If both Prop. 131 (term limits) and Prop. 140 (Draconian term limits) wind up as law of the land, then the measure that receives the most votes will prevail. Everyone knows that much, but many voters are not aware that the canceling-out provision applies only to the conflicting sections, i.e. the term limits themselves. All other sections of both propositions would go into effect.

Thus, if 140 gets the most votes, we could see the entire Assembly turning over every six years, the entire state Senate turning over every eight years, and the taxpayers footing the bill for two-thirds of the cost of all those reelections. That’s because 131 calls for public financing of campaigns.

Where will all the money come from to pay for the elections? No one really knows. According to 131, a single candidate for governor could receive up to $5.8 million from the election fund. Yet the election kitty will receive a total of only $5 million from the General Fund for all elections. The rest supposedly will come from a voluntary $5-per-person income tax checkoff.

What if the checkoff fails to generate the money needed for pay for the campaigns? Does the available money get rationed or do the courts decide the state is obligated anyway and must pay? And what would the total bill come to?

Your guess is as good as anybody’s.

Now here’s a favorite. Assume both Prop. 128 (Big Green) and Prop. 130 (environmentalists’ forestry reform) get approved. Both contain bond measures to pay for acquisition of old-growth redwoods. If they both pass, both bond measures would go into effect and Californians would end up paying $1.1 billion for the very best redwoods money can buy.

Let’s add another layer and assume that Prop. 138 (industry version of forestry reform) also passes. If 138 receives more votes than 130, then 130 is struck dead--even though it passed--because 138 contains a poison pill that says 130, all of it, must die. Of course, the compliment would be returned by 130 if it receives the most votes because it has a poison pill for 138.

However, 128 (Big Green) does not have a poison pill for 138. So--stay with me here--if 138 gets more votes than 130 (environmentalists’ forestry reform) but less than 128, that would leave 128 and 138 in effect. Since both contain new forestry regulations, the state could end up with two forestry mandates that don’t conflict technically but send the state off in two management directions at once.

And finally, there is the question of the environmental czar. Both Prop. 128 (Big Green) and Prop. 135 (Big Ag’s answer to Big Green) call for creation of a statewide environmental officer. Big Green’s czar would be elected; 135’s would be appointed by the governor.

So, if both pass, California could be left with two czars, one elected and one appointed. Who would be the real czar? No one knows. Maybe we could give each of them a can of Raid and let them fight it out.

Meanwhile, keep in mind that you don’t have to sit in a bar to play the Game of Unintended Consequences. You can play yourself as you sift through the 222 pages of the state’s official ballot pamphlet explaining the propositions. It’s fun, and who knows what twists of fate you may discover in those dim pages.