Tuesday, July 21, 2020

The Neverending Convention, Part I

I’ve been away from this blog for the last week and a half, doing work associated with the Texas Republican Party state convention. As I did two years ago, I’ve been doing editing work on the platform. At this level, I don’t have input into content, just in how it looks. And even at that, much is beyond my control.

It’s likely to take me a number of blog posts to debrief the whole thing. Today I’ll focus on the overhanging issue: Houston’s Mayor Sylvester Turner invoked the Force Majeur clause of the contract five days before the start of convention—that was Wednesday, July 8th. A week prior to that he had given his “final” word that he would not interfere with the convention because of the pandemic.

There were multiple efforts put into preparing the intended location, the George R. Brown Convention Center (owned by the city, run for the city by an entity called Houston First) to meet any and all guidelines for safe meeting. These included using larger spaces with chairs spread out, larger rooms for caucus meetings and committee meetings, temperature scanners at each entrance. There’s no competition for space right now, and that convention center encompasses 1.8 million square feet indoors, and can accommodate 55,000 people. The typical state GOP convention is around 9,000-10,000 people. It’s typically the largest GOP gathering in the country, even bigger than the national convention. But last time we held the state GOP convention in Houston we shared the space with two or three other conventions.

The convention was originally supposed to take place in May, but it was rescheduled because of the pandemic. City businesses were glad to host, since their usual business clients have been curtailed. The full convention was rescheduled to July 16-18, but committee work actually gets underway on the Monday before.

When Mayor Turner broke the contract just 5 days before committees were to meet, the State Republican Executive Committee (SREC) which is made up of a man and woman from each of the 31 state senatorial districts, met in an online meeting to decide how to proceed. The two options were in person nearby the original plan, or online. A combination is not possible, according to Roberts Rules of Order, because it isn’t possible to know whom to recognize and in what order.

The Marriott Marquis, a large hotel across the street from the convention center, offered to accommodate as needed, so the official meeting would happen on the sidewalk in front of the convention center, as required in the rules, and then temporarily adjourn and reconvene in the hotel. That is the option the SREC chose, in a 40-20 vote. People recognize the value of meeting in person.

Meanwhile, the Republican Party of Texas (RPT) lawsuit against Mayor Turner went forward quickly. On Thursday, a local democratic judge ruled against the RPT, who then appealed directly to the state supreme court for a quick ruling. Those justices met over the weekend and gave their ruling Monday morning.

It was while I was driving downtown Monday morning that I heard on the news that the ruling had gone against the RPT. The committees, already set and able to meet in person, went ahead with the downtown plan, but it meant that on Thursday, once the official convention gaveled in, everything would move to online.

There was one non-negotiable deadline: Monday, July 21st, by the end of the day, the names of those elected as delegates and alternates to the national convention, plus those elected to be electors (the ones who physically vote in the electoral college in December) had to be turned in. If nothing else happened, we could recover, but law required that business to be completed.

There was also a state party chair race, vice chair race, plus election of permanent committee members and State Republican Executive Committee (SREC) races.

It took much of Saturday to accomplish the essentials. Late in the evening permanent committee members got elected. So, we had to be poised and ready all day, but the meetings the committees were to have held did not take place that day.

The Platform Committee Meeting took place Sunday at 9:00 AM, with a tight deadline—originally one hour, but we ended up taking until past noon, with many complaints about not enough testimony time, or time to change anything after the testimony. Maybe I’ll talk more about that another day.

We got through the Legislative Priorities report in a Sunday afternoon general session, but not the Rules or Platform reports. There was an effort to try to reschedule the rest of the business to another time and place. That discussion took up more than an hour that could have been spent accomplishing business. And the proposal included a request to develop a committee from among the body to come up with a plan. Suggestions were open, electronically. They came in and didn’t stop. There were more than 5,000 suggestions the last time I heard it announced. This was a DDOS attack (denial of service). It’s a purposeful disturbance. A hack. And DDOS attacks explain much of the difficulty of Friday through Monday with credentialed delegates being unable to get electronic credentials to join meetings and have voting rights.

People were patient much longer than in an in-person convention, probably because they were in their kitchens and living rooms with creature comforts available—albeit little sleep. But the fact is, Mayor Turner indeed deprived people of rights. My senatorial district didn’t manage to convene for its final caucus until Monday morning—after the state party chair and vice chair races were a done deal.

US District Judge Lynn N. Hughes ruled
July 17, 2020, in Hotze v. Abbott
image from here

While the Texas Supreme Court ruled against the RPT’s lawsuit, there was an additional personal lawsuit filed in federal court from individual delegates who can show harm caused to them. RPT has since joined in that suit. But it went to Federal District Judge Lynn R. Hughes, who ruled against Mayor Turner on Friday, July 17th. The case is Hotze v. Abbott (because it was Governor Abbott’s limited lockdown order GA-29, supplementing GA-28, which led to the Force Majeur). The 7-page ruling is a thing of beauty to read. 

Son Political Sphere tells me it’s more of a great op-ed, but legally it isn’t likely to stand up on appeal. Nevertheless, I want to pull out a couple of points.

One is about standards. This relates to letters from Dr. David Persse, director of Houston’s Emergency Medical Service, who served as the Mayor’s chosen medical “expert.” Judge Hughes writes:

In court, high standards restrict technical data offered in evidence. That kind of opinion testimony must have rigorous science applied to precise data in a recognized method. Persse’s letter abounds with emotion and assumptions. His letter uses the phrase “clear and present danger.”
…He presented no dispassionate analysis; he only recast odd pieces of what is in the papers.
I’ve been looking at numbers. The horrendous spike in cases, the way the press talks about it, you’d think bodies were lined up in the street. In reality, the 7-day rolling average for Harris County, where Houston is located, a population of over 4 million, reached 12 and hovered there for about a week, but was lower than that by a couple of deaths per day when Mayor Turner broke the contract. That is a total of 12 per day. The total for the county to date (as of today) is 560. That’s a lot of people. But New York city has had 18,800, with an additional 4,624 probable COVID-19 deaths that weren’t verified by testing. Their population is 8.3 million, roughly double Harris County. Their number of deaths is 34-42 times the number of deaths in Harris County.

Let me say that another way, for each death to date in Harris County over the entire time since the disease caused its first death in Texas, 34-42 people died in New York City. From first death to today (so, not counting the many zero death days prior to that first Texas death on May 18th, that’s 128 days, an average of 4 per day in Harris County. Regrettable, painful to those experiencing the loss, but not an all-out emergency.

Getting data is still a challenge. The Houston Chronicle had been providing daily deaths in Texas, so I could continue to chart that. The paper used to show deaths in the Houston region, including surrounding counties. They stopped doing that on June 23rd and started emphasizing new cases by county, not 8 counties together, plus positive test rate and hospitalizations. But no county death info. So I started going daily to the county public health site. I don’t know how to get anything there but the current day’s data, so I have taken a snapshot every day to build up some data to draw a picture from.

Daily deaths in Texas, over the entire length of the pandemic, shows there has indeed been a recent rise (7-day rolling average):

Deaths in Texas, rolling average, as of July 21, 2020


Starting when I began charting the data, daily deaths in Harris County, starting June 24th, look like this:

Deaths in Harris County, rolling average, as of July 21, 2020


It's not an exponential curve. It's not a reason for panic. Or for cancelling contracts.

Out of curiosity, I look at data for my zip code. We have a population of a little over 37,000. So far we have had 3 deaths. I couldn’t pinpoint on which days each of those were reported, but I do know we had had 2 by June 10th, and we had had 3 by June 25th, when I started looking daily. So we have gone essentially a month or more since the last COVID death in my zip code. The 7-day rolling average is a flat line.

I’m here, alive, to let you know that those several hundred of us who met for committee meetings downtown: it has been a week, and so far we have a spike of—wait for it—zero. Zero cases. So zero deaths.

The next point in the lawsuit is about what qualifies as essential. The ruling says,

The meeting is not a classic-car show nor a quilting exhibition. The Texas Election Code requires it—and requires it now. This convention is the source of a party’s officers for the next two years and delegates to this year’s presidential convention among other administration.
The governor’s orders frequently use the word essential to specify exclusions from the full impact of the limits. In GA-29 [Governor Abbott’s order], for example, the rules do not apply to election-related gatherings nor the mask rule to someone giving a speech. Department and grocery stores are open and excluded as essential. The individual stores in some cases will exceed the few thousand delegates expected at the convention. It exceeds their essentialness, because critically it is a single event—not repeated every day.
And he adds that our founders did what they did because of arbitrary government. Further down he notes that the Texas Attorney General wrote a letter May 29, 2020, instructing “the secretary of state that political conventions are excluded from the strictures of the executive orders.” That seems pretty clear.

Then the judge describes the mayor’s actions the way a prosecutor might. After the Republican Party of Texas had already agreed to all the precautions, the mayor piled on:

The contractor was told [by the mayor] to require a cluster of additional precautions. The Party agreed. Frustrated, four hours after he imposed conditions that he thought would cause the Party to abandon its plans, Turner told the contractor to cancel the event. The city doctor furnished defective smoke-screen letters.
The contractual clause allowing First to cancel the use of the building says exactly what First and the mayor say it does. What it does not mean is that the cancellation may be based on reasons extrinsic to the virus rules and, instead, be based on raw political sabotage.
As for fear of risk to the city, he says,

Allowing the Republican Party to meet its responsibilities does not cost the city. All it has to do is stop interfering. Comparable numbers of people will patronize many places as the Party meets. Its contribution to viral risk is no more than another large grocery store.
In case anyone missed the mayor’s intent, the judge says,

Sylvester Turner worked to get First to cancel the license to the Republican Party after 18-odd months of preparation and cooperation under the guise of public safety based off twisted readings of the governor’s orders.
I don’t know how this will all play out. But one thing is very clear: Democrats are underhanded and untrustworthy, and they’ll go to great ends to thwart the will of good, America-loving citizens.

We cannot let such people win their war in what they see as a right to rule over us.

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