EVERYBODY BENEFITS FROM THE FOG...EXCEPT THE PUBLIC

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In Utah, we pride ourselves on clarity—wide skies, open valleys, and a culture that values straight talk. Yet inside our state government, a fog has settled over one of the most sacred duties of democracy: keeping elections honest and accountable. That fog doesn’t come from ignorance; it comes from design. And while nearly every official in power benefits from it, the people of Utah do not.

The “fog” I’m referring to is the structural ambiguity between Utah’s Lieutenant Governor, who runs our elections, and the Attorney General, who is supposed to enforce our election laws. When problems arise—questions about signatures, verification, or transparency—each office can point to the other, or to the law’s gray areas, and do nothing. In this arrangement, everyone wins but the public.

The Lieutenant Governor can say, “I’ve followed the process.”
The Attorney General can say, “I have no clear mandate to intervene.”
And the Legislature can say, “That’s an executive issue.”

Meanwhile, Utah citizens are left wondering who exactly is guarding the guardians.

The Impossible Dual Role
Utah’s Constitution makes the Attorney General both the state’s top lawyer and its chief law-enforcement officer. In theory, that sounds efficient: one office to advise government and to prosecute wrongdoers. In practice, it’s impossible. When the very officials the AG advises become the subjects of potential investigation, the office is forced to choose between loyalty and duty.

The AG must be both counselor and cop, partner and prosecutor. That’s like asking the same referee to coach one of the teams. The structure guarantees hesitation, not accountability.

When tensions arise—say, allegations that the Lieutenant Governor withheld petition signatures or mishandled verification procedures—the AG cannot easily act. The Lt. Governor is not a subordinate but a fellow constitutional officer, elected by the same voters. For the AG to demand compliance or file suit would mean one statewide Republican office suing another. Politically, that’s radioactive. Legally, it’s murky. And so the fog thickens.

A System That Rewards Silence
The truth is, this fog serves everyone inside the system.

• For the Lieutenant Governor, ambiguity allows discretion. She can classify records as confidential or “under review,” citing administrative necessity, without clearly violating any statute.
• For the Attorney General, ambiguity provides cover. He can avoid confrontation by claiming that election oversight lies primarily with the Lt. Governor.
• For the Legislature, ambiguity is a shield against responsibility. Lawmakers can promise oversight while quietly deferring to “ongoing investigations” or “executive discretion.”

Everyone preserves power and avoids blame. Only the public loses—the voters whose confidence is the very foundation of legitimate government.

We’re told to “trust the process.” But trust is not a substitute for transparency. In a republic, trust must be earned through clarity, not assumed through slogans.

The Cost of Confusion
When citizens can’t tell who is responsible, confidence in elections erodes. Once that confidence slips, so does civic participation. People stop believing their vote matters because they stop believing anyone is accountable.

The damage is subtle but real. You see it in the tone of local meetings, in online arguments, in the exhaustion of ordinary voters who no longer know which office to believe. When the system is opaque, every rumor gains traction and every official denial sounds rehearsed.

Utah has not faced the kind of electoral meltdown that makes national headlines. But complacency is not integrity. We don’t have to wait for scandal to act. We only have to look honestly at the structure we’ve built and admit it no longer serves the public as well as it serves the insiders.

Culture Over Structure
Part of the reason Utah hasn’t fixed this is cultural. We have long assumed that good people make good government. And often they do. Utah’s public servants, across parties, are overwhelmingly decent, hardworking people. But even good people are bound by incentives, and our current structure rewards caution over courage.

We depend too heavily on character and not enough on clarity. When things go wrong, we comfort ourselves by saying, “We know them; they wouldn’t do that.” That works—until it doesn’t. Integrity should never depend on personality; it should be built into the process.

The Legislature’s Missed Opportunity
The Utah Legislature could solve this dilemma tomorrow. It could separate the Attorney General’s advisory and prosecutorial functions—creating independent divisions with distinct leadership and reporting lines. It could establish a statutory Office of Election Integrity that answers to a bipartisan legislative committee rather than to either the AG or the Lt. Governor. It could define firm timelines for inter-agency compliance when records are requested in an investigation.

But that would require confronting the fog directly, and no one likes walking into fog. It’s safer to say “everything’s fine” and move on to less controversial bills. Reforming the constitutional balance between statewide officers takes courage, patience, and a willingness to forgo political comfort for public trust. Those are in short supply in every capital, not just Salt Lake City.

When Silence Becomes Complicity
Public confidence is not restored by press releases. It’s restored by accountability. When the Attorney General stays silent in the name of “stability,” or when the Lieutenant Governor withholds transparency in the name of “process,” both contribute to the same erosion of trust.

Silence may preserve the image of order, but it robs the public of clarity. Utahns are not children; we can handle uncomfortable truths. What we can’t handle is opacity masquerading as professionalism.

The fog serves officials because it diffuses responsibility. It allows every office to say, “It’s not my role.” But in a constitutional republic, the people are the ultimate client, and the people’s right to know cannot remain hostage to bureaucratic niceties.

The Way Out
Clearing the fog will take reform, not rhetoric. Utah should:

1. Codify clear investigative authority for the Attorney General when allegations involve other statewide officers.
2. Establish a nonpartisan election-integrity unit independent of both the AG and the Lt. Governor.
3. Require automatic disclosure of election-related audits, signature verifications, and communications within defined time limits.
4. Reinforce whistleblower protections for county clerks and staff who report irregularities.

These steps wouldn’t weaken trust—they would strengthen it, by proving that no one is above scrutiny and no office can hide behind procedure.

Conclusion
Fog benefits those who already hold power. It softens the edges of accountability, blurs responsibility, and muffles the sound of dissent. But government by fog is not self-government. The people of Utah deserve sunlight—laws that define duties, timelines, and consequences clearly enough that no one can mistake who serves whom.

When the air finally clears, one truth will remain: The fog protects officials, not citizens. And in a free republic, that is precisely backward.