By Teri Carter
Kentucky Lantern
On March 26, I arrived early at the Kentucky Capitol Annex with the expectation that House Bill 78 — to protect the $91 billion firearms industry from lawsuits — might be presented in Senate Judiciary even though that committee had still, as of 8 a.m., not posted a public agenda for their 9 a.m. meeting.
In the end, HB 78 was one of six bills on the agenda, but no citizen was there to speak for or against.
How does one speak on an agenda item that, to their knowledge, does not exist?
Since the Kentucky Capitol is closed for a years-long renovation, the Annex is the only place left in Frankfort in which the public has access to legislators and the lawmaking process, particularly since leadership chose to not build even the most minimal public gallery in their temporary chambers.
When asked last summer why there would be no public seating in the temporary space, Senate president Robert Stivers cited cost, even though Finance and Administration Cabinet spokesperson Kinsey Woodson told the Lantern in an email that “the General Assembly never requested a design option with a public gallery space, and therefore no estimate was ever made.”
And so the 2026 General Assembly met this year behind locked doors, far from the public they (allegedly) serve.
Just last year, Rep. John Blanton championed House Bill 399 to make loudly interfering with legislative proceedings a crime, allowing lawmakers direct authority to have a citizen arrested.
A year later, you have to wonder how a citizen “‘loudly interferes” or even participates meekly in a legislative proceeding in (a) the Annex, where the public is welcome but agendas can remain secret, or (b) the House and Senate where the public is, in a literal sense, locked out altogether.
The joke’s on us.
Turns out the people’s house, Kentucky’s legislative branch, does not belong to the people at all. It belongs to those who strut the halls the people paid for.
It belongs, let’s be clear, to a powerful fraternity of men. Because with the exception of one or two teachers’ pets in each chamber, our male-dominated GOP supermajority repeatedly makes it clear they do not want to hear from their female colleagues — their peers — anymore than they want to hear from citizens.
And nowhere was this more clear than on March 26 when all that overwhelming, frat house bravado stunk up the Senate floor as HB 78 was presented by state Sen. Aaron Reed for final passage.
I was back home and far from Frankfort by then, watching the only way we can watch now, on a screen, when Sen. Reed rose from his seat to introduce HB 78 to the Senate. He closed his brief remarks by saying, “This bill protects lawful commerce, constitutional rights, and the integrity of our legal system. Mr. President, I respectfully ask for passage of House Bill 78. Thank you.”
But what Reed failed to mention is that he himself is part of the commerce of selling firearms, or at least he was during his 2024 primary, when Louisville Public Media reported that Reed was the owner of two gun stores.
Is this not the definition of self interest?
But before a vote could take place on HB 78, Sen. Karen Berg, a Louisville physician, asked the Senate president for permission to speak, and this is what ensued.
Stivers: “Senator from Shelby, will you yield to a question?”
Reed: “Mr. President, the American people have yield [sic] far too much ground already on the Second Amendment. Shall not be infringed is clear enough for me.”
Stivers: “So is that a no?”
Reed: “I will not yield, no sir.”
Stivers: “He will not yield …”
Berg: “That’s an interesting response.”
Berg then stated on the record for her constituents — the people. Remember the people? — what her question would have been had she been **allowed** by the men to ask for a response.
What does it mean to live in a democratic republic?
If there is no public discussion; if our representatives cannot politely compel answers from fellow legislators; if citizens are unaware of bills being heard in committee; if we are afraid to speak too loudly, or at all, for fear of being arrested; if there is not a single seat in the House or Senate for citizens to observe our elected officials, is this democracy?
In 2025, the GOP supermajority passed a law allowing legislators to call for the arrest of citizens.
Then leadership oversaw the construction of their new House and Senate chambers — paid for by taxpayers — in which they made no room for a single citizen.
On day 54 of this 60 day session, a male senator in his second year giddily refused to answer questions from his colleague, a female senator, who has been in the Senate three times as long.
Is it any wonder that — even after the recent sexual harassment investigation involving Rep. Daniel Grossberg (a Democrat) — House Bill 928 and Senate Bill 143, to address sexual harassment and misconduct by members of the legislature, were completely ignored?
Margaret Atwood (on page 389 in her book “Burning Questions”) warns that power in itself is morally neutral, but like electricity it “can light your lamp or it can burn down your house; and so it is with human power.”
The Kentucky legislature — the people’s house — has been impounded by powerful men.
They can light a lamp or burn it down.
We, the people, are watching it burn.Originally published by Kentucky Lantern, reprinted through Creative Commons license.
