With the impending session of the Utah Legislature, the news media is awash with stories on lobbyist pressure and gifts. The sight of a state senator at a Utah Jazz game rankles most Utahns as much as calling Hillary the commander in chief. Let me be the contrarian. Lobbyists are not necessarily bad; without them, you might be horrified by what legislators could drum up. In the first place, Utahns only hate lobbyists they disagree with. When the state's most powerful lobbyist, the LDS Church, explained its stand against "alco-pop" beverages last week, I didn't hear weeping and wailing from the masses about powerful influence. The key defense of lobbyists is that we elect a citizen legislature. We elect dairy farmers and housewives and teachers and attorneys and real estate developers. A dairy farmer is not stupid--but his background probably doesn't extend to the intricacies of radioactive waste. A teacher might explain the Renaissance, but needs a primer on the impact of cable television regulation on communities and consumers. Tightening driver laws might sound sensible to the real estate developer--but it would be helpful to hear the effect of such changes from an insurance lobby and an automotive sales representative.

Sure, lobbyists represent special interest groups, but special interests are basically a group of impacted people who have the right and the duty to explain points contained in legislation.

Hey, the "Henry's Law" making it a felony to mistreat animals makes perfect sense when it comes to putting Buffy the dog in an oven. But before passing it, I'd expect a legislator to check with the Utah Farm Bureau (and even that dairy farmer colleague) about the possible impact to farmers and ranchers.

So I don't get too excited about Energy Solutions gaining a legislator's ear by hosting a dinner at Fleming's. I'd be more concerned if he or she voted on an important topic like radioactive waste without knowing a darned thing about it.

Take the "alco-pop" issue again. Before the LDS Church made its pronouncement last week, the legislation removing the drinks from the grocery store could have gone either way. Most legislators had no clue what the beverages were; you wouldn't find a Smirnoff Ice in Rep. Sheryl Allen's refrigerator.

But a convenience store representative --yeah, one of those darned lobbyists -- could testify that 2 percent of store sales came from these drinks; removing them from the shelves could hurt the store profits and, theoretically, force the store to increase gasoline prices by another 2 percent to cover the loss. This would be something for legislators to ponder when considering a product few would recognize.

Undoubtedly, lobbyists have a "dark side", but they fill a necessary role. A citizen legislature needs information before making decisions; without the information, we'd really be in trouble.



The views expressed in this column are the opinion of the writer and not necessarily those of the ownership or management of this newspaper.