In October 2017, the City of Austin, Texas agreed to a new collective bargaining agreement with the local firefighters’ union. One controversial part of that agreement established what is known as Association Business Leave (ABL), a form of paid time off given to members of the firefighters’ union for the sole purpose of conducting union business. ABL lets union members receive a salary from Austin taxpayers for time spent on union business, including collective bargaining negotiations. In total, ABL can pay for up to 5,600 hours per year of union activity.

Several Austin taxpayers, represented by the Goldwater Institute, brought a lawsuit challenging ABL under multiple provisions in the Texas Constitution collectively known as the “Gift Clauses.” These provisions of the Texas Constitution forbid the government from using taxpayer money to grant gratuitous gifts to private entities. The taxpayers argued that ABL is an unlawful grant of public money to a private entity (the union) for non‐​public purposes in violation of the Gift Clauses.

In response, the union moved to dismiss the taxpayers’ complaint under the Texas Citizens Participation Act (TCPA), a statute designed to identify and dismiss frivolous, non‐​meritorious lawsuits brought with the intention to chill First Amendment rights. The trial court held that ABL did not violate the Gift Clauses, and the court also granted the union’s TCPA motion. The court not only awarded statutorily mandated attorneys’ fees of $115,250, it also imposed punitive sanctions on the taxpayer‐​plaintiffs of $75,000.

The taxpayers appealed to a Texas appeals court, which affirmed the trial court. The appeals court held that ABL is just one part of the bargained‐​for compensation provided in the collective bargaining agreement, and thus not a gratuitous grant of public funds. The appeals court also affirmed the award of attorneys’ fees and sanctions. The taxpayers have now petitioned the Supreme Court of Texas for review, and Cato has filed an amicus brief supporting that petition.

In the brief, we emphasize that this case presents several important issues arising under not only the Gift Clauses of the Texas Constitution but also the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. First, the appeals court’s conclusion that ABL is one part of the compensation for all firefighters (including non‐​union firefighters) would mean that ABL conflicts with the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Janus v. AFSCME (2018). If ABL came at the expense of other benefits that all Austin firefighters would have received in the CBA, then ABL effectively takes a portion of non‐​consenting firefighters’ compensation to support the Union’s private speech. Further ABL also takes taxpayer money to support union speech, another First Amendment violation.

Second, the award of attorneys’ fees and sanctions violates the First Amendment right of the taxpayer‐​plaintiffs’ to participate in public‐​interest litigation. The appeals court justified this exorbitant award, in large part, by referencing the taxpayer‐​plaintiffs’ desire to advance a particular anti‐​collective bargaining cause in this litigation. But the U.S. Supreme Court explicitly held in NAACP v. Button (1963) and In re Primus (1978) that advancing a cause through good‐​faith public‐​interest litigation is an important First Amendment right. The appeals court thus essentially punished the taxpayer‐​plaintiffs for exercising their First Amendment freedoms, potentially chilling future litigation.

Finally, this case presents the opportunity to clarify the definition of a “public benefit” under the Supreme Court of Texas’s Gift Clauses precedents. Here, the union is a private entity whose main objective is to increase its members’ salary and thus increase the cost of local government at the taxpayers’ expense. Our brief urges that the costs of public‐​sector unions should be seriously considered in determining whether it is in the “public interest” for Austin to pay people to pursue objectives averse to the taxpayers’ interests.

If allowed to stand, the appeals court’s opinion would invite public sector unions to undermine key First Amendment precedents, chill legitimate public‐​interest litigation, and diminish the Texas Constitution’s guarantees of limited government. The Supreme Court of Texas should take the case, correct these errors, and end this taxpayer abuse.

The multiple ongoing criminal investigations of Donald Trump present prosecutors with something they rarely encounter: A genuinely bad actor who almost certainly cannot be induced to plead guilty and will therefore have to be tried and convicted in open court. But that’s increasingly unfamiliar territory in a system where more than 95 percent of criminal convictions come from guilty pleas instead of jury trials, and prosecutors seeking to convict a former president on less-than-ironclad charges may find they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. Accordingly, there are three Ps to consider in deciding how best to proceed: Prudence, politics, and plea bargaining.

Prudence

No current or former president of the United States has ever been charged with a crime, let alone actually prosecuted. That’s no small thing, and those who are clamoring for prosecutors to bring various state and federal charges against Donald Trump would do well to reflect on it more than it appears some of them have.

Two things are both true and in tension here: First, no one is above the law, and we pride ourselves (though perhaps unduly) as a nation where the powerful and the powerless are equally subject to the same set of laws. But second, there are strong prudential reasons for proceeding with caution when considering whether to prosecute former heads of state—particularly in markedly overcriminalized and increasingly polarized democracies like ours.

Has Donald Trump committed felonies? Probably. But you know what? You probably have too. Indeed, there’s an entire legal literature devoted to the proposition that most Americans have committed serious crimes for which they could in principle be prosecuted. And that’s even more true of people who’ve run for office, thereby exposing themselves to the intricate web of state and local election laws that present a virtually unnavigable hazard for Republicans and Democrats alike. And the less said about illegally mishandling classified documents, the better—for both parties.

So the question really isn’t whether high-ranking officials have committed crimes for which they could be prosecuted—like most of us, the answer for most of them is presumably yes—but rather which of those crimes (if any) they should be prosecuted for? The answer to that question is hard, not easy, and the consequences for getting it wrong could well be dire. In South Korea, for example, “presidents have routinely been jailed after the end of their terms” and “[f]requently investigations have felt politically motivated.” Can there be any doubt that a second-term President Trump would seek to weaponize the Department of Justice and unleash it on his perceived antagonists, perhaps including (former) President Biden himself?

None of this is to say that former presidents are entitled to an all-inclusive free pass just because there’s a risk of initiating a vicious cycle of retributive prosecutions. If Donald Trump were caught handing over trash bags full of classified information to Russian intelligence—like FBI agent Robert Hansen or CIA officer Aldrich Ames—then of course he should be prosecuted for that. But there’s a legal spectrum here that runs from the crime of harassing fellow golfers on a federally operated course to a certifiable act of treason as described above—and it’s fatuous to pretend otherwise. Accordingly, prudence dictates that prosecutors proceed with the utmost caution when considering whether to indict a former president, and that they seek to ensure any charges they bring are not only well-founded in fact and law, but in some sense necessary as a matter of basic civic duty.

Politics

This point is simple and flows naturally from the discussion of prudence: Any decision to prosecute a former president mustn’t have even the slightest whiff of politics about it. Thus, if Donald Trump were to actually shoot someone dead in the middle of Fifth Avenue, he might or might not lose any voters (he claims not), but he would most certainly be prosecuted for it—regardless of the serving DA’s political affiliation.

But of course, things are rarely so clear-cut. As noted above, criminal offenses fall along a spectrum from ho-hum to horrific, and the decision whether to prosecute a given offense takes place against the backdrop of a criminal justice system that does a remarkably poor job of solving even the most serious crimes. Thus, the decision to commit resources to one case necessarily entails withholding those resources from prosecuting some other, potentially more serious malefactor.

In that context, the Manhattan DA’s investigation—and, if Trump himself is to be believed, imminent indictment—of the former president for falsifying documents in connection with a 2016 hush-money payment strikes some as self-evidently politically motivated. True, Trump’s former lawyer/​bagman Michael Cohen pleaded guilty to campaign-finance violations for his role in facilitating that payout, but it’s unclear at this point whether Trump’s alleged acts rise to the level of a felony. And even if they do, there’s a non-trivial statute-of-limitations issue that could torpedo the whole case.

Thus, as various pundits have argued, it seems wildly implausible to suppose that this seven-year-old case would have been pursued if the defendant were anyone else but Donald Trump. And even if one disagrees with that assertion, it’s sufficiently plausible to raise the specter of politics—that is, the possibility that Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg’s decision to present this case to a grand jury, to invite Trump to testify before the grand jury (a traditional precursor in that jurisdiction to returning an indictment), and perhaps to indict Trump on state charges of falsifying business records is at least partly motivated by political considerations.

Again, the key point is not whether Bragg was in fact motivated by politics—only he knows for sure, and he would certainly never admit it if so; instead, the point is whether it’s plausible to suppose that he is. Unfortunately, the behavior of some Democratic activists in the latest midterms—including providing financial support to Trump-favored Republican candidates on the correct assumption that they would be more likely to lose to Democrats in the general election—lends credence to that supposition. Bottom line, someone who detects the aroma of politics emanating from the Manhattan DA’s office may well be mistaken, but they’re certainly not crazy.

Plea Bargaining

The last of the three Ps concerning the potential Trump indictment is plea bargaining—or, more precisely, the strong likelihood that unlike in the vast majority of criminal cases there won’t be any. Why do I think that and why does it matter?

First, all four of the known criminal investigations of Trump—falsifying business records in New York; election-tampering in Georgia; January 6 incitement in DC; and mishandling classified documents in Florida—have problems of various kinds, and none is a slam-dunk. It would certainly not be irrational of Trump to think that he can beat each one in court, whatever the odds of actually doing so might be. A well-resourced defendant with confidence in his ability to mount a zealous and effective defense will be less inclined to accept a plea offer, which in turn requires more than the usual amount of pressure from prosecutors seeking to elicit the guilty plea that has now become all but inevitable in our system. 

But the kinds of tactics that prosecutors commonly use to “induce cooperation” (which is their preferred euphemism for inducing a defendant to waive his right to trial and plead guilty) can appear extraordinarily brutal and even thuggish, especially to the uninitiated. These include but are not limited to the gratuitous use of pretrial detention (with or without an additionally motivating dose of “diesel therapy”); charge-stacking; mandatory minimum sentences; savage trial penalties; and even threatening to indict (or promising not to indict) a defendant’s family members simply to exert plea leverage (a tactic that has been repeatedly challenged and repeatedly upheld in federal court). While those and other tactics are perfectly routine in run-of-the-mill cases, it seems most unlikely that prosecutors would choose to put them on public display in such a high-profile prosecution.

Finally, as suggested above, there are serious questions about the propriety of pursuing any of these cases, and seeking to convict a former president for marginal conduct may strike some potential jurors (even ones who dislike Trump personally) as a bridge too far. All it takes is one juror to say—as they have every right to do—“You know what? He may be guilty as hell, but I simply can’t go along with this.” If you think the chances of such a person ending up on a Trump-jury are zero just because the trial is in Manhattan—or for any other reason—then you’ve never picked a jury and you’ve never tried a case. Moreover, the use of so-called jury nullification to protect criminal defendants from politically motivated prosecutions is among the most ancient and enduring features of our system. The notion that it could never come into play against a former president—even this particular one—is implausible at best.

Whatever its systemic merits and demerits, plea bargaining has proven an effective tool for smoothing the rough edges off of dodgy cases and sweeping messy facts like police and prosecutorial misconduct under the rug. As ubiquitous a tool as plea bargaining has become in our system, however, prosecutors shouldn’t count on Donald Trump to go down without a fight—and a messy one at that. 

In the early, scruffy days of the modern libertarian movement, the late 1960s and early 1970s, a popular libertarian slogan was TANSTAAFL — “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.” See the buttons at the right. It meant that government can’t hand out free stuff indefinitely — benefits have to be paid for. Or more generally, to economists, it refers to opportunity costs. But who said it first? 

In my recent study of the citations in Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, I saw that the editors listed the slightly more grammatical version, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch,” as “attributed” to Milton Friedman. They could have cited his 1975 book by that title. And Friedman did make the point frequently. As did Johan Norberg in this discussion of Friedman and the “no free lunch” idea.

But Friedman wasn’t first. Science fiction author Robert A. Heinlein had popularized the phrase and the abbreviation in his 1966 Hugo Award-winning novel The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress. He even posited a new country with TANSTAAFL on its flag. That’s likely where early libertarians came across it. Including a young economist named Edwin Dolan, who published a book in 1971 titled TANSTAAFL: A Libertarian Perspective on Environmental Policy. So was Heinlein the first?

The website Quote Investigator dug deeper, and found a 1938 newspaper article titled “Economics in Eight Words.” It was a fable of a king who demanded that his economic advisers give him a “short and simple text” on economics. As they presented him with massive tomes, he repeatedly executed some and demanded that the others come back with the short text he had asked for. Finally there was just one elderly economist left, who said to the king,

“Sire, in eight words I will reveal to you all the wisdom that I have distilled through all these years from all the writings of all the economists who once practiced their science in your kingdom. Here is my text:

“There ain’t no such thing as free lunch.”

That seems to be the first time the phrase was used specifically as an economic principle. The fable was unsigned, but Quote Investigator found evidence that it was likely written by Walter Morrow, editor-in-chief of The Southwestern Group of Scripps-Howard Newspapers. And now, perhaps for the first time, the 1938 article is published online at Lib​er​tar​i​an​ism​.org.

I’d say that Heinlein’s book generated the buttons and bumper stickers produced by the early libertarian activists. Friedman’s repeated use of the term and the concept brought it to a wider educated audience. But Heinlein just might have read one of the 1938 newspapers in which the “Eight Words” article appeared. 

Last week, a friend, colleague, and co-Founder of Free Black Thought was ousted from her position at Foothills-De Anza Community College in California. Dr. Tabia Lee’s transgression: asking questions about DEI initiatives, fighting for viewpoint diversity, and upholding classical liberal values. (Lee explains herself in a video put out by the Foundation Against Intolerance and Racism.)

According to an Inside Higher Ed article, her alleged insubordination included the following acts:

“She questioned antiracist ‘orthodoxy,’ objected to the college’s land acknowledgments for an Indigenous tribe [because she wanted to include information recommended by the tribe, itself], tried to bring a ‘Jewish inclusion’ event to campus, declined to join a ‘socialist network,’ refused to use the gender-neutral terms ‘Latinx’ and ‘Filipinx,’ [which are not accepted by many in the Latino and Filipino community] inquired why the word ‘Black’ was capitalized but not ‘white,’ and allegedly disrespected a founder of the Black Lives Matter movement.”

She was even accused of white supremacy for suggesting an agenda for a meeting on diversity. Why? Because agenda-setting is an aspect of whiteness and, therefore, racist to expect from people of color.

For these actions, Lee was accused, in official documents, of a “Persistent inability to demonstrate cooperation in working with colleagues and staff,” and an “Unwillingness to accept constructive criticism.” De Anza seems to promote a single ideology, often called “woke,” that abides by critical theories that reject “the very foundations of the liberal order, including equality theory, legal reasoning, Enlightenment rationalism, and neutral principles of constitutional law.” It is no exaggeration to say that Lee was fired for actually doing her job!

For these alleged transgressions, Dr. Lee, a black female academic serving as the faculty director for the college’s Office of Equity, Social Justice and Multicultural Education, was denied tenure and relieved of her duties.

As I’ve similarly experienced, Dr. Lee is being punished for being “the wrong kind of black person:” one dedicated to classical liberal understandings of equality, individualism, reason, and free speech. The fact that a black person can be accused of perpetuating white supremacy for upholding these tenets and basically abiding by the same understanding of diversity indicative of the Civil Rights Movement should be the last straw for those discouraged and disquieted by contemporary diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives, and a wake up call for those encouraged to implement such initiatives. The University of North Carolina and several universities in Texas either have taken or are taking steps to take mandatory diversity statements out of the job application and tenure process. Hopefully Dr. Lee’s experience will motivate other institutions to follow suit.

Several outlets have picked up Dr. Lee’s story, including The New York Post and Great Britain’s Daily Mail, but Lee also provides her own take on “Racial equity in American Learning Environments” in The Journal of Free Black Thought.

Should the law do more to punish persons who falsely assert that an election was rigged or stolen? That’s a demand being heard from some academics and officials. But any general attempt to legislate against so-called election denial soon runs into the First Amendment.

To begin by conceding the exceptions: it’s perfectly true that some false statements about election outcomes lack First Amendment protection and can land you in legal trouble under current law. The list starts with statements that the law might view as defamation: that’s why the Dominion voting machine company can and has sued media outlets over false allegations that its machines stole votes in the last election. Nor does the First Amendment generally protect election falsehoods advanced in various official contexts, as when (to use two examples from the rich vein provided by Trump lawyering) someone files a false paper with an agency or court, or breaches a professional obligation applying specifically to lawyers.

Election talk assuredly can face legal sanction when it takes the form of threats against or harassment of election workers, provided it fits into the “true threat” or “incitement” exceptions to First Amendment protection. Those exceptions are narrower than many imagine, however: to count as unprotected incitement, speech needs to be directed to stirring (and be likely to stir) lawless action that is imminent, not just eventual. Last year lawmakers in Washington, despite urgings from Governor Jay Inslee, declined to pass a bill forbidding candidates from making knowingly false statements about an election’s legitimacy that led to later lawlessness.

A quote in the Washington Post last month from Michigan Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson showed scant awareness of these distinctions. “Individuals who intentionally spread misinformation that then leads to threats or worse targeting election officials,” Benson claimed, “are just as culpable and should be held culpable just as those who are actually exercising the threats themselves.” It needs to be stressed that aside from the requirement that the lawless harm be imminent, the current First Amendment standard also requires that the speaker intend the lawless harm that results, not simply tell a knowing untruth.

Like much journalism on this topic, the Post piece does not linger on fine distinctions between speech that is merely obnoxious and socially destructive, and speech that is unprotected as a First Amendment matter. It says “beleaguered election officials want to see action against those spreading lies,” and quotes Michael Siegrist, town clerk of a Detroit suburb:

“Someone’s going to have to bring some charges against some folks,” he said. “This notion of, ‘I’m going to come in and try to re-litigate an election afterwards in the court of public opinion,’ especially if it relates to a scheme to overturn the validity of an election—that stuff just needs to have consequences.”

Well, we can give Siegrist credit for being right as regards his incidental point. The law can indeed attach consequences to a “scheme to overturn the validity of an election,” at least when that scheme involves certain overt acts such as the filing of a false official paper. What the law can’t attach consequences to, consistent with the First Amendment at least, is an effort, however batty or malicious, to “re-litigate an election afterwards in the court of public opinion.”

As I’ve had occasion to note several times lately, proposals to curtail what is called disinformation about elections “can curtail legitimate speech and give the government power it’s likely to misuse.”

I’ve written before about Alaska’s new Final Four electoral system (a universal primary from which four candidates advance, with the general election employing ranked choice voting). The issue is likely to stay in the news since Nevada and perhaps other states may follow with their own versions, mostly couched as Final Five rather than Four.

Now R Street Institute fellow Ryan Williamson has written an evaluation of how the Alaska plan worked in its trial run last year. Summary: it worked well.

“A review of initial evidence found that races in the state became more civil and competitive overall,” writes Williamson. Although the procedural change was a big one, it “caused little disruption in the composition of government.…Importantly, Alaskans viewed the process favorably, largely describing it as ‘simple’ despite some arguments to the contrary.”

A key aim of the reforms was to increase electoral competition, and that appears to have happened. In particular, fewer candidates ran uncontested, and fewer races were effectively decided in low-turnout party primaries in which only 10–20 percent of a district’s voters might participate. “60 percent of Alaskans reported that the 2022 elections were more competitive than other recent elections.” While the high-profile and lively races for U.S. Senate and House drew most national attention, statehouse races may in some ways be the more telling measure: “Compared with the previous five election cycles, 2022 marks the highest level of competition for Alaska state legislative seats.” Even so, incumbents in general did fine. And contrary to chatter about a supposed scheme to “rig elections” in Democrats’ favor, “Alaskan Republicans generally fared well with the top-four approach.…The evidence shows that Republicans saw no change in their ability to translate their support into seats in the state legislature.”

While Alaska Republicans had one of their best statehouse showings in years, there are some indications that Final Four may have worked to the advantage of individual candidates with centrist or crossover appeal, as compared with favorites of the party base. I’ve cautioned before that “it isn’t just centrist or technocratic politicians who may be skilled at winning support from voters not registered with their own party—figures as diverse as Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders, and Ronald Reagan have all been known for that.” Still, one of the key objectives of Final Four/​Final Five plans is to give independent and ticket-splitting voters an electoral voice fully equal to that of party stalwarts, in the expectation that their voices will make a difference one way or another. And Williamson’s preliminary report suggests that that’s exactly what happened in Alaska.

Yesterday, I testified before the House Committee on Homeland Security, and over more than three hours, several viral-internet-video-hungry Republicans attacked me and my testimony directly—often personally—without giving me any opportunity to respond. Rep. Clay Higgins (R‐LA) even questioned whether Democrats bred me “in a laboratory experiment.” A Washington Examiner reporter called it “a lecture, not a hearing.”

I was there to explain my research demonstrating that expanding legal immigration is the solution to the chaos caused by waves of illegal immigrants trying to cross the southern border between the United States and Mexico. I was also trying to explain the data that show the illicit drug fentanyl isn’t smuggled in by illegal immigrants, but instead by American citizens at legal ports of entry.

But if I tried to speak, I was talked over and gaveled down. So below are some brief responses to some of what the hostile Representatives said.

“The most generous country in the world”

Rep. Higgins (R‑LA): [You’re] whining on about broken immigration system… We are the most generous, compassionate, wealthy western nation in the world on immigration.

The U.S. ranks in the bottom third of wealthy countries for its foreign‐​born population share. This even counts our “generosity” toward illegal immigrants who we tried to ban. Rep. Higgins even cited Canada as having the more extreme policy.

But more than 21 percent of Canadians are foreign‐​born (compared to the U.S. at less than 15 percent). To catch up to Canada’s rate, the U.S. would have to admit more than 20 million immigrants tomorrow.

Further, Canada lets in more humanitarian immigrants per capita, more families per capita, and far more employer‐​sponsored individuals. It lets in more lower‐​skilled immigrants and more higher‐​skilled immigrants. It is also easier to correct one’s status in Canada.

“If I could arrest you…”

Rep. Higgins: Secretary Mayorkas, if I could arrest you for violations of Louisiana revised statutes, I would. LA RS 14.32 Negligent homicide.”

Rep. Higgins was blaming Mayorkas (and also me) for fentanyl deaths. Alejandro Mayorkas did not become Homeland Security Secretary until February of 2021. Fentanyl deaths spiked in 2020. These deaths include the Republican witness’ children who died from fentanyl in July 2020 when the borders were “closed.”

In my statement, I explained this spike in fentanyl deaths occurred because President Trump’s border policies banned most travel from Mexico. With fewer available trips and more scrutiny on each trip, drug traffickers switched from heroin to the more potent fentanyl because fentanyl can supply the same market with 50 fewer trips. Fentanyl seizures went from a third of the combined fentanyl and heroin seizures to over 90 percent. If you want to put blood on anyone’s hands, it should go on the hands of (illegally acting) Secretary Chad Wolf under President Trump.

Mass illegal immigration “is what you wanted”

Rep. Dan Bishop (R‑NC): This is what you wanted. This is what you’ve advocated for years.

I asked Rep. Bishop for a citation for this claim, and he said he would provide one. But he did not. In fact, illegal immigration is a direct consequence of shutting off legal immigration. People who want immigration to be illegal can’t complain when illegal immigration happens. It’s what they created.

Specifically, banning asylum over the last three years has meant that no one has any reason to turn themselves into Border Patrol, triggering a surge of evasion at the border. It’s the policies that Rep. Bishop are advocating for that are creating more illegal migration. I described how opening up legal migration would reduce illegal migration, as has recently been the case with Haitians seeking asylum.

“You’re strengthening the cartels.”

Rep. Bishop (R‑NC): You are strengthening the cartel with your ideology.

It is the ban on legal migration that is empowering and enriching the cartels. The only reason why immigrants are paying cartels to cross is because they cannot enter legally. Rep. Bishop tried to say the cartels could just as easily control legal immigration, but we already know how the legal process plays out for the visa categories that already exist, and they are not controlled by the cartels. We could defund the cartels tomorrow by letting immigrants enter the country legally, but U.S. policymakers care more about stopping immigrants than about defunding cartels.

Don’t believe me? Ask the smugglers. They say the Title 42 expulsions to Mexico are good for them. It provides them with repeat customers.

“You’re for exploiting children.”

Rep. Bishop (R‑NC): I’m concerned about the children distributed across the country to homes that don’t care for them to go work in factories. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be. But it’s the result of what you’ve advocated.

The New York Times recently published a report on how some immigrant teenagers are working some difficult or dangerous jobs across the country. These kids came to the United States without their parents, and the Times explains why their parents aren’t here to support them: “Parents know that they would be turned away at the border or quickly deported.”

In other words, those who banned asylum for adults traveling alone and parents traveling with their children deserve the blame for this phenomenon. There is a relationship between bans on asylum for families and the share of children who enter without their parents.

The Times also explains that many children are working because they are in debt from payments to get brought through Mexico—another problem that legal immigration would solve. The chairman slammed his gavel down rather than let me provide this information to the committee.

“You said my kids asked for it.”

Witness, mother who lost her sons to fentanyl poisoning: I hear this man from the Cato Institute say, “It’s about demand.” What I hear is “They asked for it.”… They didn’t want fentanyl.

What happened to the witness’ family is a tragedy. In fact, I said states should legalize fentanyl test strips so people who don’t want fentanyl don’t accidentally take it. Demand for fentanyl—by the U.S. dealers— would go down if their consumers would refuse to use it or buy it from them.

We must also acknowledge that there is a broader demand for illicit drugs that is relevant as well. Doctors should be able to treat opioid addiction. As I noted in my written statement, these are measures that have already proven to be effective in other countries and in states, while border crackdowns only exacerbated the problem.

“Your statistics are wrong.”

Witness Sheriff Lamb: They say that 90% are happening at the checkpoints [meaning ports of entry]. In Arizona, it’s 52:48, so half is still between the checkpoints.

You can find the relevant statistics here. In January 2023, ports of entry seized 687 pounds of fentanyl in Arizona (Tucson field office). Arizona’s Border Patrol sectors (between ports of entry) in Tucson and Yuma seized three pounds. That’s 99.6% at ports. The Sheriff might be adding in seizures from local law enforcement in all of Arizona, but that would be quite misleading because they have no way to track the method of entry except in isolated cases.

According to the sheriff’s testimony, vehicles bring in most fentanyl in his county (Pima, Arizona—more than 50 miles north of the border). As I noted in my written statement, the DEA and other law enforcement agree that fentanyl is “overwhelmingly” brought in through legal points of entry, not through illegal migration routes.

You can read my full written statement here and watch the parts of the hearing that I was allowed to participate in here