The Senate Isn’t Going to Give Up the Filibuster
Frustrated by the refusal of Senate Democrats to support a Continuing Resolution they had no role in drafting, President Trump recently waded into the convoluted realm of Senate rules to demand an end to the filibuster. A spokesperson for Sen John Thune (R-SD) quickly poured cold water on the idea, declaring that the majority leader’s position “on the importance of the legislative filibuster is unchanged.” No surprise there!
True, in 2013 and 2017, the filibuster for executive and judicial appointments was radically altered, once by Democrats and later by Republicans. And certain legislative items are exempted from the filibuster, most consequentially Reconciliation bills that, in the absence of regular authorization bills, often have been employed to make significant policy changes. But changing or eliminating the filibuster on legislative matters, as generations of reformers have advocated, well, that’s another matter. Don’t expect to see the proposal surface anytime soon on the Senate’s agenda.
It is widely believed that the Senate filibuster process is enshrined in the Constitution to protect the rights of the minority so easily bulldozed in the majoritarian-run House, to protect the smaller states and to guarantee free and full debate. Even senators can display ignorance of the origins of the parliamentary cudgel. “I’m not going to support a change,” Louisiana’s Sen. John Kennedy recent declared. “The Founding Fathers set it up this way.” In fact, it exists merely as a legacy of Senate precedent dating back to 1805, when Vice President Aaron Burr shrugged off the debate-ending “previous question” procedure used in the House.
In fact, the Founding Fathers specifically rejected requiring supermajorities to pass legislation which, Alexander Hamilton (whom Burr had murdered the previous year) wrote, would “destroy the energy of the government” by keeping it in “a state of inaction.” Indeed, the persistence of the filibuster is one reason for the Senate’s role as “a legislative graveyard,” in the immortal words of Sen. Mitch McConnell (R-KY), bottling up dozens of bills each Congress that have been approved by the House.
Maintenance of the legislative filibuster has long been defended (by senators, of course) as essential to the nature of the Senate itself. “Filibusters are a necessary evil,” insisted former majority leader Robert C. Byrd (D-WV). “The good outweighs the bad … which must be tolerated lest the Senate lose its special strength and become a mere appendage of the House of Representatives.” (Byrd didn’t address whether he believed, due to the lack of a filibuster, he viewed the House as “a mere appendage to the Senate.”) Eliminating the tradition of unlimited debate would mean “there would also be no Senate as we know it.” In other words, a majority of senators would be needed to pass legislation, which is the standard not only on the South side of the U.S. Capitol but in parliamentary bodies around the world.
In its modern iteration, the idea that the filibuster ensures that all viewpoints will be considered is nonsense, according to scholars who have studied the maneuver. If, as filibuster proponents argue, “the purpose of the filibuster is to promote debate,” writes Sarah Binder of American University, “then use it actually to debate.” Instead, from the southern Democrats of the post-war era to block civil rights laws to the more modern Republican efforts to obstruct voting rights reforms, filibusters preclude consideration of often popular, bipartisan and long-overdue legislation.
Why then do senators whose proposals are blocked from debate nevertheless refuse to eliminate the filibuster? The explanation is not partisan or ideological: it is institutional and strategic, and it has nothing to do with respecting the rights of the minority party to influence the debate.
A chronic feature of the legislative jostling between the two houses of Congress is the Senate’s tactic of rejecting House-passed legislation, advising that it cannot secure the supermajority required to avoid a filibuster. Similarly, in negotiations with the White House, senators cite the filibuster threshold as leverage to bend the will of the president. Even within the Senate itself, each senator is empowered, knowing that so long as there is no easy route to 60 votes to invoke cloture, he or she has a unique arrow in the quiver to force concessions. House members and presidents are often informed, by suitably apologetic senators, that there is but one way to pass a bill.
Former House majority leader Steny Hoyer (D-MD) refers to this Senate strategy, which serves all senators and majority and minority alike, as the “my way or the highway” approach. The late Harry Reid (D-NV), when he served as majority leader, used to lament that he wished he could return to the House where a simple majority could assure the consideration of legislation. No, he didn’t! Reid was a master of employing Senate obstructionist opportunities to kill the Yucca Mountain nuclear waste facility in Nevada.
The Senate abandoned the filibuster for executive appointments and judges in 2013 and 2017, but there is a huge difference from its use in considering legislation. Only the Senate confirms these positions, so no leverage is lost with the House by dispensing with unlimited debate. Particularly when the Senate and president are of the same party, the absence of a cloture requirements serves to facilitate the appointment of like-minded judges, which is one reason ideological hard-liners have flooded the courts in recent years.
Trump understandably wishes the Senate Republican majority would abandon the filibuster that prevents him from getting his way, but that presidential frustration is not unique to the current occupant of the White House. And that is among the reasons that however much senators complain and promise to end the filibuster, the frustrating tradition is not likely going anywhere anytime soon.
