When I served on the Fircrest City Council in Pierce County, we passed laws, adopted budgets and debated policy, all under the full glare of Washington’s Public Records Act. We weren’t special. We were accountable.
Across Washington, more than 1,800 local legislative bodies, from school boards to city councils, govern under the same sunshine law. They do their work in public, release their records when asked and somehow democracy doesn’t collapse. In fact, it thrives.
So why does the Washington Legislature insist it needs a special constitutional right to secrecy?
That’s the question at the center of my lawsuit, Nixon v. State of Washington, now before the Court of Appeals. As lead plaintiff, I’m challenging the Legislature’s sweeping claim that “legislative privilege” allows lawmakers to withhold internal communications (text messages, bill strategy memos, staff talking points, etc.) from public records requests.
If upheld, this privilege would create a class of public officials who are immune from the same transparency obligations every other legislative body in Washington has been subject to until now. It would shield backroom discussions about legislation, including decisions that directly affect our rights, taxes and services. It would render parts of the Public Records Act meaningless.
I’ve also worked inside the Capitol. For five years, I was a staffer in the Legislature. I understand the pressures, the complexities and the need for candid dialogue. I also know this: The Legislature can govern effectively without secrecy.
This month, a taxpayer-funded organization that claims to serve all legislatures in a nonpartisan fashion, The National Conference of State Legislatures, filed a brief in court backing the Washington Legislature’s secrecy claim. The conference’s argument mirrors the one already made by legislative leadership: that internal deliberations are too sensitive to share with the public. That transparency would somehow damage the lawmaking process.
If other legislative bodies can get the job done under such scrutiny, what makes the state Legislature so uniquely fragile? Neither legislative leaders nor NCSL has put forth a justifiable reason for this.
I’ve been in the room where policy is made. I’ve negotiated controversial issues. I’ve answered to constituents. I did it all without hiding behind privilege. School boards, port commissions and county councils across this state do the same daily. If they can govern under the Public Records Act, so can the Legislature.
The idea that lawmakers must be shielded from disclosure to do their jobs is an insult to public servants and to the public. It implies that candor only flourishes in darkness, and that our elected officials are too fragile to deliberate if someone might read their messages later. It’s a convenient argument for anyone who doesn’t want their process questioned, but it doesn’t hold water in a democracy.
And here’s what’s most dangerous: If this privilege is upheld for the state Legislature, nothing would stop a local government from claiming the same exemption. A city council facing public pressure over housing policy could start redacting emails. A school board in conflict over curriculum could shield text chains. Bit by bit, the public’s right to know would erode.
This isn’t just about one case. It’s about whether the public has a right to see how policy gets made, or whether elected officials get to decide what’s “too sensitive” for the people to handle.
Washington’s Constitution opens with a powerful truth: “All political power is inherent in the people.” Legislative privilege turns that principle on its head.
There’s no question that internal deliberations can be messy. Ideas are floated and dropped. Strategies shift, politics get involved, but that’s precisely why we need transparency. It’s how we hold power accountable, not just for what laws get passed, but how and why they take shape.
If lawmakers truly believe in the strength and integrity of their process, they should be proud to let the public see it. Because if they can’t do the people’s work without hiding it … maybe they shouldn’t be doing it at all.
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