As a rule, governors hold their legislative agendas close to the vest, presumably to build interest in their State of the State addresses at the start of each 60-day regular session of the Legislature.
Gov. Patrick Morrisey broke with that tradition, calling news conferences this week to outline parts of his agenda ahead of his Jan. 14 address, the centerpiece of which appears to be another proposed rollback of state income taxes.
Recall that Morrisey had pitched calling a special session on income tax cuts last fall, a plan that he said was sidetracked by the shooting last November of two West Virginia National Guard members while on what amounts to a public relations mission in Washington, D.C.
For Morrisey to propose a tax cut at a time when the state has experienced its first back-to-back years of revenue declines since the Great Depression — and when state programs, infrastructure, and services are already grievously underfunded while Morrisey is calling on state agencies to cut their budgets by another 2% — is as predictable as it is misguided.
It also comes at a time when the financial damage that Donald Trump’s Big Ugly Bill will cause the state is apparently so severe that Morrisey has refused to release a Department of Revenue report assessing the impact.
Indeed, the Morrisey administration denied a Gazette-Mail Freedom of Information Act request for the report, ludicrously claiming it is a privileged internal communication. Government transparency, indeed.
We already know that the legislation will cut Medicaid reimbursements to the state by nearly $1 billion a year. Morrisey said he is hopeful the state can secure four more $199 million federal rural health grants over the next five years, failing to acknowledge that even if successful, that amount is a pittance compared to the billions that will be lost, thanks to Trump and Republicans in Congress.
It’s notable that in touting the tax cut this week, Morrisey took a different tact than then-Gov. Jim Justice used when he pushed for cuts, claiming that lowering income taxes would induce people and businesses to move to the state.
Instead, Morrisey said the tax cut is all about affordability, acknowledging that West Virginians are suffering because of higher prices for consumer goods.
“People know their groceries cost more. Gas has costed more. Utilities have costed more,” Morrisey said, as grammarians winced.
Morrisey said of an additional 5% to 10% income tax cut, “That’s probably the cleanest way to help all individuals in West Virginia afford everyday life.”
That Morrisey would contradict Dear Leader, who has repeatedly said the affordability crisis is a Democratic hoax, is significant in and of itself. However, the reality is the cuts that Morrisey is proposing will do very little to address affordability for most West Virginians.
For filers with a household income of $50,000, a 10% income tax cut would mean savings of about $160 a year, about $3 a week, or about 44 cents a day. Hardly enough to buy much in the way of groceries, fill up the gas tank, or pay ever-soaring utility bills.
A 5% cut is even more trivial, at about $80 a year, $1.50 a week, or 22 cents a day. If you can remember back when you could actually buy things priced at 20 cents, you’re probably older than me.
Clearly, Morrisey is using affordability as a ruse to give more tax breaks to the wealthy and corporate interests.
Never mind that the 2023 legislation to roll back income tax rates has a built-in mechanism to trigger future cuts, based on growth in state revenue. However, since General Revenue collections dropped for a second straight year in fiscal 2024-25, it failed to trigger a cut for 2026.
Since Ohio and Kentucky cut their income taxes, Morrisey contends that West Virginia must ignore a very rational and fiscally sound trigger mechanism and join the race to the bottom, claiming, “The fact is, our neighbors aren’t waiting for our triggers.”
While Morrisey’s proposal appears to be getting some pushback from legislators, it is a reminder that, as always, Republicans don’t have the best interests of working class West Virginians at heart – a lesson that a majority of state voters seem unwilling or unable to learn.
Meanwhile, we have the mystery of the missing Capitol squirrels.
Rumors regarding the sudden disappearance of dozens of squirrels from the Capitol grounds reached new heights on New Year’s Eve, when Morrisey posted on X, or Twitter, or whatever it’s called, the following response to a Mountain State Spotlight Year In Review article:
“I want to see your stories about the ‘squirrel extermination’ program, where you wasted massive taxpayer resources trying to chase false rumors. Mountain State Spotlight, please address.”
This Trumpian screed seemed particularly bizarre given that it was posted at 12:01 a.m. on Dec. 31, and by its claim that the Spotlight inquiry into vanishing squirrels had somehow resulted in a massive expenditure of state funds.
Turns out, a Spotlight reporter filed a FOIA request on the matter, which by law requires a response, given the propensity of the governor’s office to otherwise simply ignore verbal or email inquiries.
How responding to that FOIA could be inordinately expensive defies credulity because, if a squirrel extermination were indeed ordered, there should either be correspondence between the governor’s office and the agency directed to carry out the task, be it General Services or the Division of Natural Resources, or there should be a contract with a private-sector exterminator on file.
Clearly, this is not a request that would require governor’s office staff to cull through hundreds of documents, or require attorneys to devote hours to redacting confidential information contained therein.
As best I can tell, Morrisey’s post was the first time the rumored squirrel extermination was made public, and that the governor felt compelled to make a ridiculous assertion about the outrageous cost of responding to a media inquiry is entirely unwarranted.
My sources tell me that there was, in fact, no mass extermination of squirrels. Indeed, state law makes it a crime — punishable by up to six months in jail — to “kill or molest” any animals, birds or fowl on the Capitol grounds.
The law does give the Secretary of Administration authority to control or exterminate animals on the Capitol grounds that are designated to be pests that pose a danger to public health and safety, although that appears to not be applicable in this case.
I understand that in the past, there were proposals to trap and relocate squirrels, but those never came to fruition, ironically, over concerns of generating negative press.
In the great scheme of things, the sudden decline in the Capitol squirrel population is hardly the most pressing issue facing the state, but it is also not unreasonable for a reporter, hearing the rumors and receiving reader inquiries, to look into the matter.
The Capitol squirrels have a loyal following of statehouse employees and visitors who enjoy feeding the critters.
That Morrisey chose to publicly berate a reporter for simply doing his job is unconscionable. Perhaps Morrisey was trying to emulate Trump, who has a habit of insulting and belittling reporters who dare ask tough or critical questions, calling them “stupid,” “ugly,” “nasty,” “terrible,” among other insults.
Uncovering facts is part of a reporter’s job, even if those facts lead to the conclusion that the original premise was unfounded, and that there is no story to be written.
That’s what good journalism is all about, and it’s the polar opposite of all the rumors, suppositions, innuendo and outright lies that pass for news on social media, which is sorely lacking the rigorous journalistic standards that the reporting and editing process provides.
Good journalism is especially important at a time when the Trump administration is telling us to reject the evidence of our eyes and ears, and accept accounts of events like Jan. 6 and the Minneapolis shooting that are diametrically opposite of reality.
So if there was no extermination, what happened to the squirrels?
What I know about wildlife could fit on the head of a pin, but the Google machine tells me that squirrel overpopulation — which was clearly occurring on the Capitol grounds — can lead to spikes in mortality, particularly through increased road kills in more urban areas.
Finally, congratulations to Sen. Donna Boley, R-Pleasants, on wrapping up a historic 41-year tenure as the longest-serving senator in state history.
She did so with dignity and grace, even when — as the only Republican in the Senate — she was frozen out of budget conference negotiations by her Democratic colleagues in 1991.
During the two years when she was the lone Republican, I always enjoyed kidding her about why — as Senate minority leader —she never called party caucuses.
Boley was the last member of the Legislature whose tenure predated my promotion to statehouse reporter late in 1989.
This will be my 37th regular legislative session, and I take solace in knowing that I’m no longer compelled to put in the long hours required to cover the session gavel to gavel, and knowing that I will be small part of a Capitol press corps that is as competent as any I’ve worked alongside in my nearly four decades covering the Legislature.