This piece originally appeared in the Bangor Daily News.
by Nick Tomboulides
Now that he’s back in the Legislature for a 24th term, Rep. John Martin is looking to settle a score with the term limits that ousted him from power over two decades ago. Martin’s latest effort to repeal Maine’s term limits — which ought to be called the Restoring Career Politicians Act — is gaining traction, and he’s determined not to let a minor nuisance like the people’s will get in its way.
Maine’s eight-year term limits were enacted by the people with a 68 percent vote in 1993. When Martin helped put a measure on the ballot to weaken them in 2007, voters again stood up for term limits by disposing of his scheme in a landslide. It’s remarkable that these experiences didn’t clue Martin in on the fact that Mainers love term limits.
Or perhaps he does know, which is why his current bill doesn’t let the voters decide. If it passed today, Martin’s plan would delete term limits from state law without even consulting the citizens who put them into place. He now has an obligation not just to explain why he’s trampling the voters’ choice, but how it’s ethical for a legislator to loosen limits on his own power.
People’s veto, anyone?
Pundits have suggested that the original term limits initiative was a retort to Martin’s lengthy career — a means of exacting a vendetta against him. That ignores the broader appeal of citizen legislators. Maine voters passed term limits because they were tired of public servants morphing into self-interest seekers and abusing their offices. They wanted leaders who had just enough time to change government before it changed them.
Martin wasn’t the only one who let power get the best of him, but his career did serve as a warning. In 2012, it was revealed that he funneled $8,500 over a decade in Maine “clean elections” dollars to his own convenience store, all at the expense of taxpayers.
While that store was stuck in bankruptcy, in spite of the leg up it got from your tax dollars, Martin was fingered by the Northern Maine Development Commission forfailing to pay back $232,000 in government loans on a bar and restaurant he owned in Eagle Lake.
Special deals like these — the kind that fall into the laps of career politicians while average citizens struggle to get by — are what make term limits so essential. Since they’re human like the rest of us, officials struggle to resist the allure of self-enrichment, which is present at every turn in the capitol. A limit on service is a limit on power, and a limit on power is a check on profiteering.
It’s true that Martin’s knowledge of Maine government is impressive. But citizens are right to question who really benefits from all that knowledge. More experienced legislators are also the ones who best know how to manipulate an office for personal gain.
With term limits, the Legislature is regularly infused with talent and perspectives from the real world. They’re packed with citizen experience, arguably a more valuable skill than awareness of how sausages are made in Augusta. A doctor’s expertise on health care issues will always supersede whatever a lifetime legislator can muster. Ditto for a teacher on education policy.
By electing men and women who’ve experienced these laws outside of a political bubble, Maine’s Legislature learns how its ideas affect working people. It’s an insight many states aren’t lucky enough to have, and one Martin wants to repeal.
Even if Martin is dead set on career advancement and not buying arguments for term limits, he’s still bound by his oath of office to the folks who elected him. The people of Maine have never wavered on term limits. Neither has Martin. It’s time to remind him who’s the boss.
Nick Tomboulides is executive director of U.S. Term Limits.