Pretext as Policymaking

In California politics, solving real problems often takes a backseat to appearances. Lawmakers declare a crisis on things like housing, climate, public safety, then rush to “do something,” regardless of whether their action actually helps. What they offer isn’t leadership; it’s pretext, or a false justification for expanding bureaucracy, rewarding political allies, and virtue-signaling, all under the guise of public service.

In reality, it’s all political theater — and it continues a dangerous precedent.

The problem isn’t that California needs more laws. It’s that many people don’t follow or enforce the thousands we already have. 

Having worked in the State Capitol for 17 years, I’ve seen pretext play out time and again. A “crisis” is identified, a narrative is crafted, and the usual cast of special interests is assembled to support a bill they wrote — despite the fact that it carries a legislator’s name.

These bills are then rushed through hearings—propped up with talking points about justice, equity, or “saving the planet”—while downplaying the real-life trade-offs they impose. Too often, the narrative doesn’t match the bill’s actual contents or commands.

Take Assembly Bill 84 by Assemblyman Al Muratsuchi of Los Angeles, chair of the education committee. Years ago, a charter school falsified attendance records and accepted state funds for ghost students. That was fraud and existing law handled the situation. Yet, AB 84 pushes a wave of new restrictions on charter schools—most of which are not unionized and represent competition to the traditional public schools’ regime—under the pretext of fixing a problem the law capably addressed years ago. This bill isn’t about protecting kids; it’s about protecting a political monopoly.

When legislation like this becomes law, the dense and bureaucratic language makes it nearly impossible for the average Californian to understand, let alone comply with. The real-world results rarely match the promises.

This isn’t just bad governance; it’s a bait-and-switch.

AB 84 is just one example of many bills that increase taxes, restrict commerce and mandate expensive rules. Meanwhile, elected officials blame everyone else but themselves for the rising cost of living and the growing exodus of families and businesses from California. Voters are left wondering how we got here while lawmakers give self-congratulatory interviews from one of their many taxpayer-funded offices.

This isn’t how a republic is supposed to work.

Our Constitution was built on the idea of federalism, a system that puts local communities in charge of local decisions. The closer government is to the people, the more accountable and effective it tends to be. But when Sacramento inserts itself into every aspect of our lives, we lose not just freedom, but faith in the system.

Pretext flips policymaking on its head. Instead of identifying real problems and crafting thoughtful solutions, lawmakers start with a political agenda and then go hunting for justification while creating other difficult problems. It’s the governing equivalent of the Soviet legal motto: “Show me the man, and I’ll show you the crime.”

What we’re missing under the Capitol dome is leadership rooted in constitutional principles, people who understand the lives of everyday Californians and respect the limits of government. Californians deserve lawmakers who know what it’s like to run a business, raise a family, or fill up a gas tank without needing a spreadsheet to budget for groceries. We need leaders who will say “no” to bad laws and “yes” to local alternatives — leaders who resist legislating for headlines and focus instead on simplifying the existing challenges of life.

If we want a government that works for working people, every adult in the state must demand clarity, simplicity and accountability. That starts with rejecting pretext as policy and returning to a system where the law serves the people, not the other way around. Otherwise, we’re a banana republic run into the ground by children masquerading as authority figures.