A POINT OF PERSONAL PRIVILEGE: Imperfect Options, Imperfect System, with Imperfect Information

HB 4148 — Lodging Taxes and Local Control

How do we balance tourism promotion with the costs tourism imposes on the community.

The problem.

In 2003, Oregon made a deal. If local governments increase their transient lodging taxes (or impose one for the first time), at least 70 percent must go to tourism promotion. No more than 30 percent can go to city or county services.

That compromise stabilized tourism funding. It also locked local governments into a formula designed two decades ago.

Since then: public safety costs up. Infrastructure costs up. Labor costs up. Inflation exists. And visitors still use local roads, police, and fire.

And do you know what else? Oregon is one of seven states with very restrictive rules. Most states allow cities and counties full control over how the tax dollars are spent. They can spend it on roads, law enforcement, healthcare, housing, waste water treatment, advertising, chambers of commerce, and grants for restaurants and hotels to invest in their small mom-and-pop businesses.

In fact, the states that do allow full local control over TLT funds actually lead the country in tourism visitors and spending. Tourism needs promotion, no one is arguing otherwise, but it also needs communities to deliver on a visitor experience that makes people want to come back and to tell their friends and families to visit as well.

The proposed solution.

HB 4148 shifts the required split from 70/30 to 40/60 — meaning at least 40 percent must still go to tourism, but up to 60 percent could support local services.

And here’s the part people keep skipping: 40 percent is a floor, not a ceiling. If a community like Seaside wants to spend 100 percent on tourism promotion, it can. Nothing in the bill caps it at 70.

What the bill does is remove the state-imposed maximum and give cities and counties the flexibility to decide how to meet their own needs.

And if voters think their local officials got it wrong, there’s a remedy for that.

It’s called an election.

So, that’s it. Not abolition. Not confiscation. A rebalance.

You’d think we proposed outlawing sunsets.

Here’s what I’m wrestling with.

Tourism matters. A lot. But so does local self-government.

So, how do we make sure our cities, counties, and small businesses have the resources to create an experience people actually want to come back to? And is 60/40 the right balance, or just the next temporary truce?

And, if this bill passes, we won’t have to speculate. We’ll find out soon enough.

I’m in support.

HB 4125 — Really Saving for a Rainy Day

The kicker is less a tax policy and more a regional personality trait.

When personal income tax collections exceed the official forecast by more than two percent, the surplus is refunded to taxpayers.

Simple in theory. Complicated in practice.

The problem.

Because forecasting is not divine revelation. It is modeling plus judgment. Adjust assumptions about wages, capital gains, or employment growth, and you can move that two-percent line.

Right now, we budget to a single forecast — effectively the upper number. If actual revenues come in modestly higher, but not high enough to trigger the two-percent threshold, we spend it. If they exceed the threshold, the kicker fires.

The proposed solution.

HB 4125 introduces a second, lower forecast and a tiered structure.

If we budget to the lower number and revenues land between the lower and upper forecasts, the state can use that difference for one-time needs, overruns, or savings.

If revenues exceed the upper forecast, the gap between the lower and upper numbers is directed into a One-Time Emergencies and Finance Fund. Only revenue above the upper forecast flows back to taxpayers through the constitutional kicker.

In other words: discipline first, savings second, refund third.

Proponents call it prudence. Critics call it backdoor kicker erosion.

Here’s what I’m wrestling with.

This bill does not repeal or shrink the kicker. It preserves it. But it does require something far harder than statutory language: behavioral change.

If the legislature continues budgeting to the upper forecast out of habit, the lower number becomes symbolic. There will be nothing “extra” to save because it will already be committed in the base budget.

The reform only works if we truly anchor spending to the lower estimate and treat the upper estimate as upside, not entitlement.

That’s the nuance.

The kicker is constitutional. I respect that. Oregonians deserve predictability.

But volatility is real. Revenue swings are real. And long-term obligations do not disappear because refunds are politically popular.

The question isn’t “kicker or no kicker.”

The question is whether we build a structure that forces real prudence before prosperity, and whether we have the discipline to follow it when the numbers look good.

I’m in support.

SJR 203 — Masked Officers and Constitutional Lines

This one is loud. And yes, I’m chief sponsor with Representative Tom Anderson, Senator Manning and Senator Patterson. Both sides of the aisle are dug in. Deep.

The problem.

Some Oregonians believe masked law enforcement erodes public trust and accountability. When officers show up unidentified, confidence suffers.

Others argue anonymity protects officers and their families from harassment, doxxing, and retaliation…especially in an age when a viral video can become a threat.

Both concerns are real. Neither is imaginary.

The proposed solution.

SJR 203 would amend the Oregon Constitution to prohibit masked law enforcement officers while performing official duties, except in undercover operations or SWAT situations.

It doesn’t take the decision away from voters. It sends it to them.

Here’s what I’m wrestling with.

Constitutions are blunt instruments. They are not policy memos. They are structural guardrails. If transparency in law enforcement is a core civil liberty, it belongs in Article I. If it’s operational policy, it belongs in statute.

We brought this forward because we believe visible, accountable policing strengthens legitimacy. And legitimacy is officer safety in the long run. But I don’t dismiss the concerns from law enforcement either. The world has changed. Threats are real.

Transparency matters. Officer safety matters.

The question isn’t whether one side wins. It’s whether we can draw a constitutional line that strengthens public trust without weakening those sworn to protect it.

And that’s not a trivial decision.

I’m in support.

SB 1599 — Putting the Transportation Vote on the May Ballot

This is a big partisan mess. Some Republicans want the vote in November. Some Democrats want the vote in May. It sounds procedural. It isn’t.

The problem.

Elements of the transportation package, namely, a six-cent gas tax increase, DMV fee increases, and the payroll transit tax rising from 0.1 percent to 0.2 percent were referred to voters by a ballot referendum effort orchestrated by Republicans.

Republicans hoped to put it on the November ballot. Why? Because the Governor is up for re-election. Swing seats are in play. Republicans are doing terribly nationally. And, turnout patterns matter.

Let’s not pretend timing is accidental. Both sides understand turnout math. Both sides think they know which electorate benefits them.

That’s politics.

But here’s the more important part: ODOT’s funding problem doesn’t pause while we wait for optimal campaign conditions.

The proposed solution.

SB 1599 moves the vote to the May 2026 primary and establishes procedures for explanatory statements and fiscal estimates.

No tax changes. No policy rewrite. Just timing.

Here’s what I’m wrestling with.

Yes, both parties have political incentives about when this vote happens. That’s reality. But that doesn’t override the policy urgency.

We need clarity.

I suspect voters may reject the tax and fee increases. If that’s going to happen, let’s know sooner rather than later. Let’s not drag uncertainty into November and freeze planning for another six months.

If voters say no, we move to Plan B. And conversations about Plan B are already happening.

Dragging this out for tactical advantage helps campaigns. It doesn’t help roads.

Process always has political implications. But infrastructure funding is not a campaign prop. It’s a governing problem. Let’s get the answer.

Then let’s fix what needs fixing.

But, I’m also fine with the vote happening in November. I stand by vote in support of funding the transportation network. If you live on the coast, then the winter storms in December are a good reminder of why we need our city, county and state road crews keeping our roads open and safe.

I’m in support of moving the vote to May. Let’s get the vote over with and move on.

The Budget Shadow

Just over a week ago, lawmakers waited anxiously for the updated revenue forecast from the state economist. Nerdy, yes. Why?

Because in September 2025, the revenue forecast showed the state was $400 million short of the cash it needed to fund the budget—in other words, paying for things like schools, healthcare, SNAP benefits, public safety, higher education, and other government doo-dads.

And that was a problem. So, the legislature, for the first time in almost 20 years, was going to have to make cuts to programs. And, everybody was going to be affected.

So, the hope was that this revenue update was going to show better than expected numbers.

On paper, the numbers look stable. General Fund resources for 2025–27 are projected at about $37.5 billion, with an ending balance of roughly $198 million.

In other words, $198 million in the bank. Sounds like a lot, but if you have 4 million citizens, that’s enough to cover about $50 in unexpected expenses per person. Not bad, but not great.

And, just in case legislators and bureaucrats were tempted to celebrate, the economists assigned a 62 percent probability to the baseline outlook. Meaning, there’s still meaningful chance things can and will get worse.

If you’re an economist, that feels like a tidy summary. If you’re a single working mom in Tillamook or Astoria, that translates differently.

It means the state isn’t broke. But it isn’t swimming in extra cash either.

It means we can pay the bills. But we don’t get to pretend there’s a hidden pile of money behind the couch cushions.

It means when someone says, “It’s only a small increase,” you should ask, “Small compared to what?”

Here’s the thing about budgets, state or household. Stability is not the same as abundance.

A family can have enough to cover rent, groceries, and daycare, and still feel the squeeze when the car needs brakes. The brakes don’t care that your budget is technically balanced.

That’s where we are.

We are not in crisis. But we are one recession, one wildfire season, one federal funding shift away from a very different conversation.

The forecast even spells it out: a moderate recession scenario still carries weight. A severe one, smaller but not impossible. So when we debate new spending, new mandates, or new constitutional structures, it’s not abstract. It’s cumulative. Every new commitment compounds. Every structural decision locks in expectations that don’t easily unwind.

If you’re living paycheck to paycheck, you don’t commit to a new monthly expense because this month went okay. You ask whether it still works if hours get cut.

That’s the lens.

Governing isn’t about pretending the sky is falling. It’s about resisting the temptation to act like it never might.

And that’s a lot less dramatic than campaign speeches.

But it’s more responsible.

The Part That Matters Most

So, in closing this week’s newsletter, I leave you with this.

Representing a district is not about picking a tribe.

It’s about holding competing ideas in tension.

Tourism and public safety. Refunds and reserves. Land-use and housing. Transparency and safety. Growth and caution.

Some of my constituents want more spending. Some want less. Some want the state out of everything. Some want it in everything.

All of them deserve to be represented.

The easy vote is the one that flatters your base. The harder vote is the one that survives the next economic cycle.

This week, the talking stops. The votes begin.

And the job is to remember that the whole district, not just the loudest corner of it, sent you here.

Politics has a way of rewarding volume over judgment. The loudest voices insist every vote is a referendum on your soul. It isn’t. It’s usually a choice between imperfect options made in an imperfect system with imperfect information. The trick (and it is a trick) is to stay calm when everyone else is shouting, read the numbers when everyone else is reading tweets, and remember that governing isn’t about winning the argument. It’s about keeping the ship upright when the weather turns.

That’s less romantic than revolution. But it’s how you actually serve.