At the Minnesota Legislature, disagreement within a party caucus is often treated as a weakness. Negotiations happen behind closed doors because “caucus unity” is prioritized. But something unusual happened this year. (OK, lots of unusual things happened this year). Specifically, legislative leaders allowed some of their ideological differences to play out in public spaces. And in doing so, they modeled a healthier, more transparent approach to governance.
Take the Senate floor debate over SF2300, an attempt to revise Minnesota’s earned sick and safe time law. Lawmakers openly wrestled with the complexities of balancing worker protections with concerns raised by small business and family farms. Republican members were all in support of the changes, possibly because they’d raised similar concerns when the bill was originally passed last biennium. Some DFLers supported modifications, while others stood firm against them. This wasn’t dysfunction — it was literally representative democracy in action. The strong emotions and strong disagreements on display weren’t new. These debates have been going on for years behind closed doors. But this was the first time, in my recent memory, that kind of bare-knuckles division within one caucus was highlighted on the floor.
In the aftermath, I heard whispers from some Capitol-dwellers that Senate Majority Leader Erin Murphy erred in letting the bill come to the floor. I absolutely disagree. By allowing that public debate, she may have — accidentally or intentionally — thrown the big tent doors wide open. Minnesotans who are ideologically closer to “Seeberger/Putnam/Frentz DFLers” than “McEwen/Maye Quade/Fateh DFLers” got a visual illustration that all of them are represented in the Senate, and all have a place in the party. (Although the veiled threat of primary challenges and the use of the term “shameful” from Sen. Jennifer McEwen shows that she may not personally agree with that position.)
Party unity is so prized that bipartisanship is often discouraged on the same side of the aisle more than by members of the opposite party. Bipartisan collaboration — by design or by desire — was also on display this year in an unusual way.
Consider the bipartisan collaboration that led to SF856 — the Office of Inspector General. In an era where political purity tests often prevent meaningful collaboration, Democratic Sen. Heather Gustafson and Republican Sen. Michael Kruen have been visibly and consistently working together. This kind of linked-arm partnership between members of both parties has been rare in prior years, but it’s exactly what governing should look like. Their bill, like SF2300, didn’t make it through the House before the regular legislative session ended. But both bills will probably continue to be discussed throughout the special session runup, and into next year. (Since all the bills introduced in the first year of a biennium carry over to the second year, neither are truly dead yet.)
Down the hall, the 67-67 tie in the Minnesota House has made bipartisan collaboration a necessity. While not every effort at cooperation has succeeded, those who have embraced the challenge and worked in good faith deserve recognition. Co-chair teams like Rep. Ginny Klevorn (DFL)/Rep. Jim Nash (R) or Rep. Spencer Igo (R)/Rep. Michael Howard (DFL) who successfully negotiated their omnibus bills — despite major ideological differences — are proving that governance isn’t about rigid party loyalty; it’s about finding the 68 votes that are constitutionally required to get any bill passed. And as an accidental byproduct, they’re likely creating public policy that is more stable, more inclusive of voices across the state, and more likely to survive future sessions — no matter which party is in the majority next.
Now Team House and Team Senate are — some in public, some behind the scenes — working out compromises on the rest of the budget bills that will now have to be passed during a special session. The ideological lines in those negotiations always get a little blurry, and more so this year. I’m not sure that the public hearings are actually producing better policy and more collaboration than the behind-the-scenes conversations are, though. They’re definitely producing an audience for speeches and content for social media, which might actually be making the policymaking process worse.
For too long, polarization has dominated our political landscape. The expectation that parties must always move in lockstep has stifled honest debate and forced lawmakers into rigid ideological corners. But governing isn’t about purity — it’s about finding a middle ground that works for the majority of Minnesotans, not the majority of one party. Bills that receive both bipartisan support and bipartisan opposition often reflect the true consensus of citizens. They acknowledge that no single party has all the answers and that real solutions require negotiation, adaptation, and, yes, disagreement.
Minnesota’s legislative leaders are showing courage by allowing these debates to unfold in public view. They are proving that we can agree on some issues and disagree on others without resorting to political warfare. This is what democracy should be — messy, thoughtful and driven by the pursuit of real solutions.
Shannon Watson is the executive director of Majority in the Middle, a St. Paul-based nonprofit.
