The night before this newspaper’s editorial board’s weekly meeting last Wednesday, Gov. Janet Mills delivered prepared remarks about Maine of north of an hour, the eighth and final such speech of her tenure as governor.
That evening, an instant message pinged into a shared work channel. “I’m not sure where to post this, but I’ll place it here,” wrote one of our colleagues. “This came to my mind while reading about Gov. Mills’ State of the State speech and the fallout. Is there a place for decorum and manners in Maine politics anymore?” the colleague asked.
It was as if he had listened in on our meeting.
“Everything in Augusta these days is right out of WWE: promos, gimmicks (signs, etc.), threats, dramatic entrances down the aisle, cheers, boos, etc.,” the colleague continued.
“I’m sure there have been other times when manners have been tossed aside (I seem to recall some testiness when McKernan was governor in the early ’90s), but nothing like we’ve had the last few years — or maybe earlier; I wasn’t living in Maine when LePage was in office. Can the situation be fixed, or should everything be decided from now on in a Hell in a Cell match?”
This editorial isn’t going to be devoted to what might be immediately understood to be the night’s “fallout,” to the Republican lawmakers who, while Gov. Mills was still speaking, saw fit to stand up and walk out of the House chamber last Tuesday. Nor to the preposterous hyperbole that followed (“Evil is at work here at the State House,” Senate Minority Leader Trey Stewart told reporters, revealing a narrow understanding of the concept.)
Rather, it’s going to set a challenge for all who take the time to read it.
After invoking granite, boulders and eskers in her opening words, the governor conducted her swan-song State of the State like a victory lap.
“You’re welcome,” Mills said with a provocative laugh, concluding a portion of the speech about job creation and economic conditions under her governance. The economy! A rare, rare heading under which there might be said to be consensus — there’s a prevailing sense that things aren’t all that great.
Audibly delighting some in the gallery, she said it again, about internet access: “You’re welcome.” Mills said it after announcing the $300 relief checks (it is not, in fact, all that great out there). “You’re welcome.” It was peppered throughout the speech.
Our colleague reached for professional wrestling to assist him in his characterization of a political reality that hinges on two battling teams, complete with spectacle, team colors — on bright display in Augusta last week — and rigid conditions for membership.
We on the editorial board found ourselves thinking ahead to next week’s Super Bowl. You can love your team to death, you can want it to emerge victorious with all your might, we noted, and that doesn’t interfere with your ability to see that team clearly — in fact, it can sharpen those assessments and generally it does just that.
We didn’t stop at football. You can be devoted to the Red Sox, a disgruntled colleague chimed in, and be completely appalled by their losing Alex Bregman and Rafael Devers in the space of 12 months.
When it comes to today’s politics, why is it that we check this instinct at the door? It would serve us all to stop and look closely at what our own “teams” are or could be doing differently, doing better.
Thirty-five minutes into Mills’ speech, the CBS 13 News feed began showing Republican legislators glancing sideways at one another. The tipping point seemed to be reached not long after that, at the mention of “over-reliance on fossil fuels.” And so the floodgates opened.
When the governor came to health care, we watched one side uniformly on their feet, in rapturous applause, while the other side, with the same eerie coordination, did not budge. Comments about family planning appeared to drive the first departures from the chamber. As if staying and listening was not the superior course. As if opting out was helpful in any way.
The binary of all in and all out will keep us from moving forward. Time and again, we see the terrible consequences of taking sides at any cost. Among the earliest casualties is constructive dialogue. Unfortunately for us, that’s also a basic requirement for progress.