Flight Training

Serving as the presiding officer over a meeting takes skill and practice to master. Few people develop that far simply because they do not get the proper training or put the time into it. There are some who have presided over meetings for years, putting in the time, but never mastering the skill because the training needs to go with the practice.

Consider the analogy of becoming a pilot. Just flying a plane around the sky by yourself will not do. To be licensed to fly, one must not only go to class and take an exam, but log forty hours of flying experience. Twenty hours must come from an authorized instructor, followed by ten hours of solo flight. In addition, two cross country flights of 100 and 150 miles must be achieved. Ten takeoffs and ten landings are needed, and three hours of flying on instruments is required.

Such practice would make any presiding officer a skilled and experienced master. As a registered parliamentarian, I certainly have the knowledge, but book knowledge is not enough. Just as a pilot must react fairly quickly to changing conditions in the air, a presiding officer must react quickly to changing conditions in a meeting. If pilots could take the time to look up the answer in a book, there would be little need for the rigorous training. A presiding officer who must repeatedly look up the answer in Robert's Rules of Order Newly Revised will lose the trust and confidence of the assembly. To be a good presider, the knowledge must be combined with training and practice.

I took an inventory of my presiding experience, which began in 1990 when I chaired a small non-profit board. Since then, I figure that I have over 300 hours of flight time logged in the chair. I think there are three categories of flight that one must experience: presiding over small boards and committees (twelve members of less); presiding over large board and committees (twelve or more); and presiding over a convention. In the modern computer era, I think there is an instrument flight equivalent for conducting a teleconference or web-conference. My tallies for these categories is as follows:

             Kirk's Flight Log

• Small boards    139 hours
• Large boards   160
• Conventions      17

Of the 139 hours with small boards, only 14 hours of presiding was by web-conference. It has only been within the last year that I have conducted web-based meetings. More practice is needed here.

This summer, I plan to begin teaching a class on presiding. The class will be limited to about 6 students, so that each person will have the opportunity to spend time in the chair with the gavel. Stay tuned for follow up reports.

Integrity

As parliamentarians, we usually see ourselves as the keeper of the rules. We often meticulously push that role to the extreme, but if it were not for parliamentarians, there would be little respect for the rules. While some would say the devil is in the details, the parliamentarian knows that the long established precedents of procedure are straight and true. The more they are followed the better the meeting will be, the more fair the proceedings, and the more stable and effective the organization. Rules of order are reliable.

There is a higher moral order than just strict adherence to the rules. I am no philosopher, but I think we will agree that personal integrity takes precedence over just about everything in a parliamentarian’s moral hierarchy. Albert Camus once said “Integrity has no need of rules.” Putting rules into practice is one thing; placing integrity over that practice is another.

To be trustworthy, one must first have integrity. The word integrity comes from the Latin meaning not touched.  The word integer has the same root, but means whole.  A person with integrity is untainted, untarnished, unhurt.  From this, we can see that integrity means sound, fresh, whole, entire.  One who has these quailities is therefore pure and honest.  The parliamentarian with integrity is one who is reliable and dependable -- one in whom confidence and faith can be placed by all who rely or depend on his advice.

H. L. Mencken observed: “It is mutual trust more than mutual interest that holds human association together.” Once, a new parliamentarian for a legislative body sought out the guidance and advice of several predecessors. Instead of a lecture on calendars, committees, and points of order, their foremost advice was to always maintain the trust of the members. They knew that the loss of trust can be more severe than mis-interpretation of the rules, because the ability to associate and deliberate collapses once any suspicion is cast upon the rule keepers.

Leo Durocher, the famous baseball manager, once said “I never questioned the integrity of an umpire. His eyesight, yes, but never his integrity.” Likewise, the assembly may question the advice given by a parliamentarian or the ruling made by the chair based on that advice, but it is only through trust that the assembly will observe and follow the prescribed course. We tend to view the presiding officer as our client rather than the overall organization, but we cannot adequately serve the chair if the membership does not trust us. That trust has to go beyond a slim majority. It must prevail throughout the assembly. Thus, we serve the chair best by maintaining a high ethical standard.

Several of the standards listed in the NAP Code of Ethics address this. Parliamentarians should “assist in maintaining the integrity and competence of the profession” (#1.2) and “promote a spirit of cooperation, ethical practice, and fair dealing with colleagues” (#1.4). They should conduct themselves “so as to reflect credit on the profession and inspire confidence, respect, and trust of clients and the public” (#1.5).

Ethics, integrity, and trust do matter. Without them, we cannot be the guardians of democratic society.

The Debate on Suspend the Rules

Is the motion to Suspend The Rules ever debatable?  In general, the answer is no, but there is one exception.  Suspend The Rules, when applied to rules of order, is never debatable, even when no other question is pending.  Suspend The Rules, when applied to standing rules, is always debatable and must be made as a main motion.

Suspending Rules of Order
Robert's Rules of Order Newly Revised (RONR) states: "The incidental motion to Suspend the Rules . . . can be made at any time that no question is pending" (p. 252, l. 18-20).  This means that when no other question is pending, the motion to suspend a rule of order is an incidental motion.  Normally, we think that any motion made when there is no other question pending is a main motion -- either an original main motion or an incidental main motion.  This is not so for suspending a rule of order.  It is always an incidental motion, and as such is not debatable (p. 253, l. 5).  Thus, at any time this motion is made, whether business is pending or not, it is not debatable.

There are several motions that are not incidental main motions, even when made when no question is pending.  This is one of those unique procedural anomalies that makes sense only after much thought.  Suspend the Rules is such a motion, especially when applied to a rule of order.  Several of the others are listed at the end of this posting.

Debate would defeat the purpose of suspending a rule of order.  This motion is designed to quickly allow the assembly to do something that it cannot readily do under the rules.  If the rules had to be followed in a given situation, several motions might need to be considered before the desired action could be taken.  Some of those motions might be debatable motions.  If Suspend the Rules can be used to skip over debatable motions, then it is not reasonable for Suspend the Rules to itself be debatable.  Suspending a rule of order allows the body to conveniently skip procedure and debate.

Let us imagine that the motion to suspend a rule of order is debatable when no question is pending.  To prevent debate, the mover could say: "I move to suspend the rules and take up . . ., and on this I move the Previous Question" (p. 366, l. 1).  This is the method that is used to prevent debate on any main motion.  It would require not only two votes in succession, but two votes of two-thirds (first vote on Previous Question, then vote on Suspend the Rules).  However, the reason we use Suspend the Rules is so that procedural sequences like this can be avoided.  The motion to Suspend the Rules should cover any series of steps that requires at least a two-thirds vote to accomplish.

Even better, the mover could say: "I move to suspend all rules interfering with taking up . . ., including the rules on debate."  This phrase would secure just one vote of two-thirds.  A little addition to the wording renders the motion undebatable.  However, this goes against the proper form for stating this motion. "In making the incidental motion to Suspend the Rules, the particular rule or rules to be suspended are not mentioned; but the motion must state its specific purpose" (p. 253, l. 23).

It would be of no value to debate the suspension of a rule of order.  A person wishing to avoid debate might prefer instead to move it while business is pending.  If the purpose is to take up another item of business, this could be more complicated, confusing, and disruptive to the assembly than doing so while no question is pending.  On the other hand, a person wishing to delay the proceedings would prefer to move to Suspend the Rules when no question is pending.  It would seem that in either case, debate on Suspend the Rules is detrimental.

Let's further examine incidental main motions.  They are debatable (p. 98, l. 24) and all subsidiary motions can be applied to them (p. 98, l. 12).  If Suspend the Rules can be an incidental main motion, then it can also be Postponed Indefinitely, Amended, Referred, or Postponed To a Certain Time.  These subsidiary motions would defeat the purpose of suspending a rule of order.  This is why RONR states that the only subsidiary motion that can be applied to Suspend the Rules is Lay On The Table (p. 252, l. 23).  Having reviewed the possibilities, it makes better sense that Suspend the Rules is always an incidental motion when applied to rules of order.

The Exception -- Suspending a Standing Rule
RONR states: "a standing rule can be suspended for the duration of a session; and a motion for such a suspension, made when no business is pending, is an incidental main motion" (p. 72, l. 2-5). This appears to contradict the argument above, however, we must remember that standing rules do not relate to parliamentary procedure and have the same effect as an ordinary act of the assembly (p. 18).  Thus, the suspension of a standing rule would not be related to a pending motion or series of motions, but to the operation of the meeting as a whole.  "Through an incidental motion adopted by a majority vote, a standing rule can be suspended for the duration of the current session" (p. 257, l. 6).  A motion to suspend a standing rule is an incidental main motion and can have any of the subsidiary motions applied to it.  Since adoption requires only a majority vote (there is no minority to protect), it should be debatable.

Incidental Motions (when no question is pending)
The other motions that are not incidental main motions, even when made when no question is pending, are listed below.

ADJOURN -- When there is already a provision for another meeting, the unqualified motion to Adjourn is not debatable even if it made while no question is pending (p. 226, l. 8).  Under these conditions, it is in effect a privileged motion, not an incidental main motion.

TAKE FROM THE TABLE can only be made when no other question is pending.  It differs from an incidental main motion in that its standard characteristics indicate it is not debatable (p. 290, l. 23), nor can any subsidiary motion be applied to it (p. 290, l. 4).  RONR classes this motion as one that brings a question again before the assembly not by its introduction, but by its adoption (p. 75, l. 4).  Since main motions introduce business (p. 95, l. 2) and Take From The Table does not directly introduce business, it is not an incidental main motion.  In the tinted pages, RONR differentiates between B -- motions that bring a question again before the assembly -- and M/B -- incidental main motions classed with motions that bring a question again before the assembly.  Examples of M/B motions are: Rescind, Repeal, Annul, and Amend Something Previously Adopted.  If Take From The Table could be an incidental main motion, it would be classed as an M/B, but it is classed as a B (tinted p. 26, #82).  (This presents a Shakespearean moment: M/B or not M/B, that is the question . . . but then I digress).

RECONSIDER, when made when no business is pending, is classed as a B motion and not as an M/B.  It is not an incidental main motion because it brings a question again before the assembly only through its adoption.  (I will conveniently skip the analysis here, as Reconsider is one of those motions that makes my head spin).

DISCHARGE A COMMITTEE can be classed as either a B or an M/B.  If the matter to be discharged from committee consideration was originally referred to the committee by a subsidiary motion, then the motion to Discharge is a B motion.  If the matter to be discharged was originally referred by a main motion, then it is an M/B motion (see tinted pages, p. 14, #32 and #33).

PARLIAMENTARY INQUIRY can be made either when business is pending or not pending.  It would be foolish to call it an incidental main motion even when made while no question is pending.  In RONR, Requests and Inquiries are not debatable (p. 281, l. 15), and no subsidiary motion can be applied to them (p. 281, l. 4).  Debating, Amending, Referring, or Postponing To a Certain Time would defeat the purpose of any request or inquiry, and they are in effect incidental motions, and never an incidental main motion.

Taking a Seat in the Assembly

With most folks, there is something uncomfortable about standing up to address a body or audience.  Even though standing up gives the speaker a pronounced advantage versus sitting, the tendency is to stubbornly and timidly remain seated.  I doubt that this tendency is a natural one.  I am not much of a psychologist, not having studied crowd psychology (Freud), the collective unconscious (Jung), the popular mind (Le Bon), etc.  Nor do I know much about ethology (look that one up).  Having established my intellectual limits, let me digress along.

If the reluctance to stand was a natural tendency, then there should be a connection with instinct.  Are we a herd animal by nature?  We know that the animal that stands out from the herd, swarm, school, or pack is the one that gets caught and eaten.  Safety in the heard arises from all animals working in cohesive alignment.  This certainly explains many aspects of human behavior.  If so, then it may be that the tendency to remain seated stems from an instinct to stay close to the herd.  It is survival of the throng.

Are we a solitary or roving animal by nature?  Solitary animals have their own built-in defense mechanisms, such as the beak of a woodpecker, the rack of a moose, or the fangs of a viper.  They survive by marking and tending their own territory.  If so, we would naturally desire to separate ourselves or at least distinguish ourselves from the group.  In a human, nothing establishes individualism more than standing out from the crowd.  We tend to exhibit both features, of course -- neither being purely a herd or solitary animal.  One thing for sure -- instinct does not run very deep in humans.

There is glossophobia -- the fear of public speaking -- which affects about 75 percent of Americans. For most people who are terrified to speak, it may take just enough courage to open their mouth. Speaking and standing up? Well, maybe that is too much for the glossophobiac to bear.

I think the tendency to remain seated in the assembly is actually learned behavior.  Nothing has been pounded into our being quite like the modern educational system, which is fundamentally classroom-based.  The American adult has endured somewhere between twelve and sixteen years of classroom interaction -- five days a week for 9 months a year.  In the good old days, students were required to stand when speaking, but this ancient practice has long been discarded. Today, classroom behavior requires only that students raise their hand before being recognized to speak from their seat.  They think on their seat instead of thinking on their feet.  There lies the rub.  The segway from classroom to deliberative assembly is an easy one in the participant's mind.  The chair or presiding officer takes on the characteristics of the classroom teacher and the participants, well, they tend to act just like students sitting at a desk.

Some of it may also be laziness.  It is such a hastle to stand up.  It disturbs our modern sedentary comfort zone to have to stand and sit, stand and sit.  Even Catholics, who stand, sit, and kneel repetitively during Sunday's service, seem to acquire stiff joints during Monday's assembly.  Like the third string of a football team, we prefer to remain benched in mediocrity.  It is as if the participant is welded to the chair.  The modern classroom desk and chair are welded together, and so the sitter's stance seems just as rigid.

Nor does personality seem to matter.  Introverts and extroverts alike are drawn to the reclined habit drilled into us from adolescence.  While the extrovert desires to speak, so too will the introvert when a motion or point in debate calls for it.  The only difference here seems to be the frequency of activity -- the extrovert never appreciating the wisdom of brevity and the introvert always exaggerating the merit of silence.  In either case, they resist the perpendicular posture.  Neither does age, sex, or education level seem to effect the habit.  Introverts and extroverts, young and old, female and male, high school and college degreed are all practitioners of the same engrained habit. 

So what is the real value in standing up?  Part of it is simple physics.  If only one person is standing, everyone can readily see them.  It is clear to all who has the floor.  A person's speech travels through a room better when the person is standing and all others are sitting.  The sound waves carry over the heads of the other participants, rather than being obstructed and absorbed by them as when the speaker remains sitting.  The question of who is speaking and what are they saying is remedied by having the speaker stand.

The rest of it is a matter of control.  The chair must control the proceedings of a meeting, otherwise pandemonium will quickly ensue.  (This fact has been tested and retested a million times over).  Meetings are better run, less confusing, more efficient, and more fair when the chair's authority to preside is maintained.  The basic rule is that only one person may speak at a time.  When a person is recognized by the chair to speak, that person is understood to have the floor and should be the only person standing.  For this reason, the chair should sit, if possible, when another person has the floor and is speaking in debate.  This makes it clear who has the floor.  Often though, the chair must remain standing when procedural motions are being made or a dialogue of sorts between a member and the chair is taking place (e.g., Point of Order, Parliamentary Inquiry, help with stating the motion).

This can also be examined from the point of view of rights and duties.  Other members have a right to know who has the floor, otherwise confusion abounds.  The person with the floor has the duty to direct all comments to the chair, but also has the right of direct access to the chair.  For this reason, there are rules about walking in front of the member with the floor.  In the Texas House of Representatives, there is a wide central isle with a microphone and lectern at each end.  The one at the front is the reading clerk's microphone and is often used by a bill author or sponsor.  The rear microphone is used by others to make motions or debate.  House Rule 5, Section 32 states: "No person shall pass between the front and back microphones during debate or when a member has the floor and is addressing the house."  Rule 17, clause 5 in the U.S. House of Representatives is similar.  One can easily imagine tense moments in legislative history when a member, acting beyond his wits, rises in front of the person to interrupt or challenge their position.  Fist fights, brawls, and even the brandishing of knives have occurred in the U.S. House of Representatives, so it is best to respect tradition.  Robert's Rules of Order Newly Revised considers movement around the hall as "disturbing the assembly."  Thus, passing in front of the person with the floor challenges the right of direct access to the chair.

The same problem is presented in a different way if the person recognized as having the floor refuses to stand.  This effectively places all the persons sitting between the chair and the speaker in the arbitrary position of interfering with direct access.  The speaker who sits cannot direct comments to the chair with any certainty or authority.  Again, confusion clouds the proceedings.  The rule that others cannot interfere with the person who has the floor works both ways.  The person who has the floor also cannot interfere with the duty of the other members to maintain proper decorum, which they do best by sitting and remaining silent.

If there is anyone who is best served by the rule on standing, it is certainly the individual member who is trying to get his point across.  Knowing this, why would anyone prefer to sit and risk being obscure, inaudible, and unable to exercise his rights?

Meetings, Sessions and Days

The terms meeting and session are often confused. Although used synonymously, their meanings are different but overlapping. The usage of the words varies between the legislative body and what parliamentarians call the ordinary deliberative assembly, which is everything else.

When most folks think of session, they are referring to a legislative body. In Texas, a regular session is held at the beginning of every odd-numbered year and lasts 140 days. Since 1989, there have been 18 special sessions called by the governor. Congress holds a new session each year, because Article I, Section 4 of the U.S. Constitution states "The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year . . ."  Special sessions for Congress can be called by the president; however, these are rare, having occurred only 27 times (the last one was in 1948, called by President Truman).

What is known as a meeting in ordinary assemblies is called a day in the legislature. A legislative session is made up of a number of days and there is a set order of business for each day. This would be simple enough except that there are legislative days and there are calendar days -- an esoteric denotation that only a legislative body could appreciate. It is the general belief in all legislative bodies that the pursuit of order is best achieved through tortuous complexity. So it is with the telling of time. If a recess occurs at the end of a legislative day, the recess does not end the legislative day but only provides a break in the order of business. On the next calendar day after some opening ceremonies, the legislative day picks up where it left off at the recess. It seems that legislatures are like God when it comes to time. “With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day” (1 Pet 3:8). With legislatures, a legislative day is like a thousand calendar days . . . well, I hope you get the point. A legislative day is understood to be the conduct of business from adjournment to adjournment. A calendar day is understood to be the continuance of a legislative day following a recess, so that there can be a number of calendar days before the adjournment of the legislative day.

In a legislative body, the word meeting is only used to denote a convening of a committee. To refer to a session of a committee makes no sense, even to the layperson. When a committee adjourns, the committee meeting comes to an end. Thus, a meeting of a legislative committee is synonymous with a legislative day for the full body.

A legislative body that meets continuously for days, weeks, and months is holding one session. A bill introduced at the beginning or middle of this period is pending as long as the session continues. Each legislative day, the legislature convenes and adjourns. The bills introduced on previous days are still pending either on a calendar or in committee (or in the case of the House of Commons, they may be laying on the clerk's table). Once the session comes to an end, however, all pending bills fall to the floor, and must be reintroduced at the next legislative session if they are to retain life.

In ordinary assemblies, these terms are less confusing but not entirely clear. A day for an ordinary assembly is a calendar day. It begins at 12 midnight and ends at 12 midnight. This is straightforward – no strange clockwork here. A session for an ordinary assembly is basically the carrying out of a single agenda or order of business. A meeting is a single sitting of the assembly, that is not separated by an adjournment though it may be separated by a recess. Adjourning always ends a meeting, while a recess allows a short break before continuing the meeting. (Thus, a meeting of an ordinary assembly is synonymous with a legislative day for a legislative body).

When a society or board meets, it is common practice to prepare a new agenda. Meetings are typically separated by a week, a month, or a quarter interval and it makes perfect sense to start with a new agenda. A new agenda initiates a session.  Most societies and boards complete the agenda before adjourning. For this reason, a session is typically a one-day meeting. Thus, in the case where an agenda is completed in one meeting, the duration of the meeting and the session are identical. Though it appears in this case that the terms meeting and session are synonymous, they are not. This is a source of confusion. It must be remembered that a session for an ordinary assembly is the consideration of a given agenda or order of business. It usually can be accomplished with one meeting, though additional meetings may be necessary.

Now, let’s examine a case where an ordinary assembly holds several meetings in close sequence. When ordinary assemblies hold a convention lasting a day or more, this constitutes one session. Many organizations refer to each convention meeting as a separate session (e.g., opening session, second session, and closing session). These are not actually sessions, but are individual meetings within a session. A convention agenda usually includes the items of business for the entire set of meetings. A new agenda is not adopted at the beginning of each day, but rather one agenda is adopted on the first day covering all the days. Thus, a multi-day convention is one session of several meetings, and one set of minutes can be drafted to cover the entire session. Sometimes, a large break takes place within the day so that the morning, afternoon, and evening sittings are actually individual meetings. Each such meeting should be concluded by adjourning, as the only proper way to end a meeting.

In legislative bodies, a bill cannot carry over from one session to another, but must be reintroduced. In ordinary assemblies, however, there are four ways that an item of business can carry over from session to session:

• The item is postponed to the next meeting (using the motion to Postpone to a Definite Time)

• The item is referred to a committee (using the motion to Commit/Refer)

• The item is laid upon the table (using the motion to Lay Upon The Table)

• The meeting/session adjourns before completing the agenda, and the business that was pending at adjournment becomes the first item business at the next meeting/session under Unfinished Business, followed by the items of business that were on the agenda but not considered before adjournment

There are two peculiarities known as special sessions and the adjourned meeting. Just as a legislature can have a special session, so can the ordinary assembly.  As with the legislature, there are special procedures for calling a special session and only the articles or items mentioned in the call can be considered.

A society or board that normally completes its agenda in a single sitting may encounter a volume of timely business that cannot be completed in a single sitting.  To complete the agenda, an adjourned meeting can be established.  An adjourned meeting is the continuation of a session through the scheduling of a second meeting.  This is accomplished by Fixing the Time To Which to Adjourn.  As all good parliamentarians know, one should not end a sentence with a preposition.  For the sake of comprehension, this motion could be stated as "Fixing the Time to Adjourn To."  Basically, it sets up the continuation of the session by establishing another meeting.  It can be moved by saying "I move that on adjournment, we adjourn to meet next Tuesday at the same time."  The second meeting will pick up consideration at the point on the agenda where the first meeting left off.  Thus, the two meetings will constitute one session.

Dressage Makes Good Procedure

Last week, I served the United States Dressage Federation at their annual convention.  Dressage is about horses, of course - especially, the English saddle type (as opposed to the stock or Western saddle).  The USDF represents all those people who live in the saddle and around horses - breeders, competitors, judges, trainers, and equestrianists - and who promote the sport of dressage.  They also represent all those magnificent horses under the care of USDF members.

Now, people who devote a large proportion of their free time working with horses must be a virtuous sort.  Horses, in my opinion, are the second smartest animal, but they are by far the most graceful of all.  This is an interesting combination.  In dressage, the smartest animal rides and directs the second smartest animal.  So far, so good.  The contradiction is that an animal like man may have great potential to be graceful, but is not naturally so like the horse.  Thus, a less graceful animal rides the most graceful animal.  The question is who is directing whom when it comes to gracefulness in dressage?  To me, it seems that it may be the rider who is trying to measure up to the horse.

In parliamentary procedure, we often see the animal man in his less graceful nature.  When I first arrived at the USDF convention, several delegates apologized to me in advance for the anticipated behavior of the convention.  Turns out that last year was a somewhat contentious one.  I often get these pre-apologies at conventions.  It seems that those who wish to hire a parliamentarian are aware that their organization can benefit from an improvement in order and decorum.  People are essentially people, however, and my experience has been that behavior in the deliberative assembly does not vary much from organization to organization.

So it was with USDF.  The convention went quite well from my perspective and it was what I expected from such a group.  The knowledge level of the participants was high on equestrianism and low on procedure.  (No surprise here, that the delegates would know more about something they do on a daily basis versus something they do once a year).  Many important decisions were made and it appeared that everyone was pleased with the results.  As parliamentarians, we cannot ask for more.  I was able to help an important and fruitful organization take important steps in governance over a two day period.  The delegates, officers, and staff returned home to do something much more important than motions, debate, and voting.  The quality of USDF is measured by what is done in the stable and the arena, not at the convention.

Still there are hypothetical questions that are floating in my clever mind.  If dressage is the graceful movement of horse and rider, and if the rider is more graceful on the horse in the arena than on foot in the convention, should horses be included in the convention?  Or, even more hypothetically, should the horse be a delegate?  Would parliamentary procedure improve in either case?

The latter case is out.  A group of horses convened in a large room would behave better than people, for sure.  There would certainly be less of a need to call the horses to order for being too noisy or for chatting.  Unfortunately, horses have a unique disability when it comes to voting, being able to respond only in the negative.  A chorus of "Nays" would be the limited response.  The great satirist, Jonathan Swift, would have been able to expound upon the ability of horses in the deliberative arena.  Readers of Gulliver's Travels will remember the land of the Houyhnhnms where horses were the superior creature.  It was a decision of the Houyhnhnm Grand Assembly that forced Gulliver to return to miserable England.  I am sure the decision was made by a majority vote of a quorum after reasonable debate, but Swift omitted such details.

The case of requiring delegates to be in the saddle is intriguing.  In general, do people behave better on a horse?  With USDF, I think the delegates would have admitted so.  With any other organization, we would be better served to teach delegates parliamentary procedure than to teach them how to ride a horse, at least in terms of getting through a convention.  I have tried to imagine the USDF convention with horse and rider serving as one.  A few things would go more smoothly.  A standing vote or division could be cleanly accomplished.  "All those in favor please move to the right of the arena, and all those opposed please move to the left."

Let me end on a serious note.  There are strong connections between the art of dressage and the art of parliamentary procedure.  When the rules are followed in either discipline, the results are better.  Dressage has its movements and parliamentary procedure has its motions.  Both come from a long history of tradition.  Both require much practice if proficiency is to be acquired.  Dressage teaches us a valuable lesson.  If participants in the deliberative assembly were to behave as if they were executing movements in the equestrian arena, things would go much smoother.  In his heart, every parliamentarian should appreciate the art of dressage.

Awaiting the Eleventh

For the past couple of months, I have been visiting units in Texas.  I have seen a number of RONRs carried to these meetings in various binding formats -- softcover, hardcover, and spiralbound.  Beginners seem to choose the softcover because it has the lowest price.  Some like me carry the hardcover because it is more durable.  The most popular seems to be the spiralbound because it is the best for study purposes and can be easily laid flat.  I saw a number of the softcover and spiralbound formats in disarray -- tattered, torn, worn, and held together with tape and rubber bands.  The owners of these books are holding out another year because they know a new edition is forthcoming.  Why buy a soon-to-be-outdated book when a rubber band will hold your frayed folio together for a few more months?  Or is there something sentimental about that old volume that got you through a decade worth of parliamentary maizes?  Maybe all those dog-eared and tabbed pages with multi-colored highlighting and penciled notes give it the character of an old and indispensible bible? 

Unlike most bibles, which are built to last, the bindings of RONR are not so durable.  I also have a leatherbound binding which is my favorite.  It has autographs of the authors in it along with those of many of the former NAP presidents.  I have purposefully kept the pages clean and untattered by my scribblings.  I use this one as my working volume because it does not look like a copy of RONR.  Without the familiar gold cover, it wears a sophisticated disguise.  While serving as a parliamentarian, I can lay it on the table (pun intended) and casually refer to it without exposing my parliamentary hole cards.  That way, members and delegates watching the dias will not wonder "Is the parliamentarian looking up something in the book because he is bewildered or ignorant?"  Besides, the leatherbound version is classy and I want to send out that message to whoever notices that I am a really classy guy, even if I am a certified rules nerd.

Since the first of the newly-revised series appeared in 1970, a new edition of Robert's Rules of Order Newly Revised has been issued at the beginning of each decade.  The current issue is the 10th edition, published in 2000.  The author team has been working on the 11th edition for several years now.  We know that the color for this edition -- important for those of us veterans and collectors who care about how the series looks in sequence on the bookshelf -- is going to be red.

There are mixed feelings and opinions about the need for a new edition every ten years.  There are purists who wish that things would remain unchanged.  They are of the opinion that the latest edition has more than enough good material for running every possible kind of meeting (sans the legislative).  Change only causes confusion and instability, especially since most organizations do not correctly cite the latest edition as their parliamentary authority.  For example, the terms often seen in bylaws are Robert's, Robert's Rules, Robert's Rules of Order, Robert's Revised, etc.  Often at meetings, the parliamentarian will carry one version, while the presider carries another.  Keep the book the same, thinks the purist, and there will be more consistency in the halls of democracy.  How can we get everyone on the same page until we can get them to embrace the same edition?  This line of thinking is flawed if only because the old editions of Robert and Cushing are frequently resurrected in soft cover offerings.  They populate the limited shelf space available for parliamentary manuals at the major booksellers.  They are attractive to the neophyte because they are shorter in length and lower in cost than RONR.  For this reason, the naive officer or delegate tends to carry a brand new, but antiquated, paperback to meetings.

Then there is always the cynical point of view: the author team is only in it for the money.  As with Microsoft and new versions of Windows, we are forced to adopt the newest version whenever we purchase a new computer.  Now, I have often complained about having to update software, but when buying a new computer wouldn't I want the latest and greatest?  Do I really want an older, clunky operating system?  The same can be said about parliamentary manuals.  If my old book is worn and tattered, shouldn't I prefer the best information available when buying a new book?

There is debate about just how successful the RONR editions have been over time.  It has been claimed that they are among the must successful books ever sold, even though they do not appear on any of the official lists.   The Harry Potter series is now competing with the Bible and The Poems of Mao Tse Tung as one of the most successful books ever, and the Boy Scout Handbook is always high on the lists.  The Guinness Book of World Records now claims that it is among the most sucessful books ever. With updates being made daily, it has probably made more money for the Guinness Brewery than beer.  The poetry of a dead Chinese despot will never be revised, but there are newer versions being rolled out for the Bible and the Boy Scout Handbook (newest edition was published this year) and Rowling churns out the equivalent of a new edition with every subsequent novel.

Those who are concerned about lining the pockets of a wise old bachelor who lives in a monastery (i.e., Henry M. Robert III) can keep their old edition -- if it can be bandaged together.  Oscar Wilde said "a cynic is a man who know the price of everything and the value of nothing."  Enough said.

To me, the best reason for having decenary editions is the one given by the author team -- parliamentary law is like other subjects of law, it must develop with time.  Common law is usually understood today to develop according to settled case law.  In parliamentary law, however, court cases are few and far between.  Courts have opined on the role of officers, quorum requirements, bylaws, notice, and membership, but the bulk of parliamentary law has remained untouched by the scrutiny of the court.  To put it simply, lawsuits cost money and there is not much money in arguing the finer points of subsidiary or incidental motions.  It is hard to imagine someone filing a lawsuit because the presiding officer failed to ask for a second on a routine motion.  It isn't worth the money to test this in court.

Parliamentary manuals are necessary to cover the areas not under review, or that have never been reviewed, by the court.  Since all other legal subjects are able to evolve with time, so should parliamentary law.  This can only be accomplished by routinely updating the parliamentary manual.  Law books are being updated as often as judicial opinions are issued, and so we must update RONR.

The last criticism to consider is that of author team selection.  The Robert family has always controlled the selection of authors.  Isn't this a nepotistic and self-serving arrangement?  Maybe so.  The proof to me, however, is in the pudding.  The newly-revised series has been a great success and well written too.  If the author team ever fails to produce the level of quality of past editions, this may become a relevant issue.  Until then, my vote goes to Henry and the boys (i.e., Henry M. Robert III, Daniel H. Honemann, and Thomas J. "Burke" Balch).

A good place to follow the developments in RONR is the Official Website for the author team.  In the meantime, make room on your bookshelf for one more edition.  It's coming soon!