Here we go again: Colorado’s Capitol class has found another way to walk up to TABOR, squint at the voter-approved lock on the cookie jar, and ask, “But what if we chewed through it with lawyers?”
The source article says the Senate moved a TABOR-related bill forward, and Advance Colorado is already preparing for legal action. That is not a boring procedural update. That is the smoke alarm going off in the taxpayer kitchen.
TABOR exists because Colorado voters told politicians something very simple: before you dig deeper into our pockets, ask permission. Not “consult a stakeholder group.” Not “rename the tax.” Not “create an enterprise.” Not “call it a fee and hope nobody with a day job notices.” Ask.
That was the deal. Voter consent before government helps itself.
But the ruling class has spent decades treating TABOR like a legal obstacle course instead of a constitutional command. Taxes become fees. Fees become enterprises. Spending becomes “investment.” Refunds become “lost revenue.” And every time taxpayers say, “Hey, didn’t we already vote on this?” some Capitol wizard in a blazer appears from behind a committee hearing curtain holding a spreadsheet and a lie detector that only works on citizens.
Now Senate Democrats are moving a bill forward, and Advance Colorado is signaling it may drag the fight into court. Fine. That is what happens when politicians keep trying to see how much voter-consent protection they can gnaw off before a judge smacks the newspaper out of their mouth.
To be clear: the bill number, sponsors, vote count, and exact legal theory matter. If this fight is over taxes, fees, refunds, ballot language, enterprises, or some other government-power maneuver, those details decide the court case. ColoradNO does not invent facts just because the Capitol’s behavior is predictable enough to write in crayon.
But the pattern is not mysterious. Colorado government loves democracy right up until taxpayers use it to put a leash on spending. Then suddenly the language gets slippery, the legal memos start breeding, and “public investment” becomes Capitol-speak for “shut up and let us spend it.”
If your policy is so damn popular, put it on the ballot and win like adults.
That is the part these people hate. TABOR does not ban government from asking for money. It forces government to make the case to the people paying the bill. Apparently, that is now considered a humanitarian crisis inside the marble terrarium, because nothing terrifies the professional governing class like a citizen with a ballot and a memory.
And no, this is not an Advance Colorado Valentine. Lawsuits are tools, not saints. But when the state’s tax-and-fee machine keeps finding new trapdoors around voter consent, somebody is going to sue. That is not extremism. That is what happens when politicians treat the constitution like a suggestion box they already emptied into the trash.
Normal Coloradans are already getting hammered by housing costs, utility bills, insurance, gas, groceries, property taxes, and the endless little government charges that show up like mosquitoes at a July barbecue. Then the same people responsible for making life more expensive stroll in and explain that the real problem is TABOR, not their addiction to spending money they have not honestly asked for.
That is the gut-check. Do voters still own the lock, or does the Capitol class get to pick it whenever the budget gets itchy?
TABOR is not the problem. The problem is a political machine that keeps trying to raid the cookie jar, rename the cookies, bill you for the jar, and then act offended when taxpayers say, “Get your damn hands out.”
Source: the source article
Just Stop It
