What’s the Deal with Texas’ Special Sessions?

In 2021, Governor Greg Abbott called the Texas legislature back to Austin for a whopping three special sessions. Photo by Wally Gobetz. 

Last year, the Texas state legislature was only supposed to meet for their regular 140 days. And yet, that year, Governor Greg Abbott called the legislature back to Austin for three separate special sessions. Each time, he asked for a different set of conservative policy proposals, including blocks on vaccine mandates, restrictions on the participation of transgender student athletes, and cuts to property taxes. Legislators, for the most part, were resentful about the time taken away from their day jobs and families. As House Speaker Dan Phelan said at the end of the third session, “We’re all very tired.”

Extra meetings like these aren’t rare in the state. Because the legislature only goes into session for 140 days every other year, the power to force lawmakers back to the capitol becomes a potent tool for Texas governors, who rely on special sessions to achieve their major policy goals. 

In the past ten years, Texas Governors Rick Perry and Greg Abbott have called a total of eight special sessions, which they’ve used to get their major legislative priorities through. In 2011, Governor Perry used the session to pass his tax-slashing budget, cutting funds to local school districts. He held another three special sessions in 2013 for legislators to discuss transportation funding measures. Governor Abbott’s property tax reform, his top priority for the 2017 special session, failed in a stalemate, but he still managed to pass proposals keeping state agencies open, cracking down on mail-in voting, reforming municipal processes, and imposing new abortion restrictions. And last year, after three special sessions, the legislature agreed to draw new Republican-favored Congressional maps, prohibit participation of transgender athletes competing under their gender identity, put an amendment on the ballot to raise the property tax exemption, and redirect new federal relief dollars. None of these major bills made it through regular sessions, but governors managed to push the laws through using their special session power.

It’s clear that special sessions are a powerful tool for Texas governors to realize their agenda, but they don’t actually have to call a special session (or additional special sessions) to get what they want. The threat alone can be enough. This past July, for example, after Democrats in the Texas House broke quorum and fled to D.C. to prevent the passage of a voting restrictions bill, Governor Abbott said, “I will call special session after special session after special session, all the way up until election day of next year,” threatening to keep the legislative body in a sort of purgatory until they passed his restrictions. By the end of August, enough Democrats had responded to the threat and decided to come home, reluctantly ensuring the bill’s success. 

Special sessions work so well in Texas because of how the state legislature is set up. Texas’ legislature is relatively deprofessionalized, compared to similarly-sized states like New York or California. In New York, for example, legislators meet every year, January to June, and receive a salary of $110,000 plus a per diem. The California legislature generally meets annually from January to August, and lawmakers receive six-figure salaries. In Texas, on the other hand, regular sessions are constitutionally limited to 140 days—meaning they end sometime in late May—and only come around every other year, and lawmakers are paid a mere $7,200 for their time. Texas lawmakers, then, unlike their peers in California or New York, typically have to hold onto their ordinary jobs when they’re not in session, just to make a living. They have a uniquely pressing incentive to not get more special sessions called, which usually means giving into the governor’s demands.

The special session also presents a political challenge for lawmakers. The extra time in Austin naturally draws large amounts of media coverage as it reopens the legislative arena outside of the normal period, giving the governor a bigger bully pulpit to proclaim his goals for the thirty days. Additionally, a full thirty-day session can cost taxpayers up to $1.3 million, putting pressure on the legislature to get things wrapped up. Hence, during special sessions, Texas governors come into the bargaining process from a much stronger stance than during regular sessions. Thanks to the public attention and the high costs, the pressure is on lawmakers to appease the governor’s demands and adjourn the session as quickly as possible, meaning governors do not have to make many, if any, concessions as they would during regular sessions. The specialness of a special session gives governors a comparative advantage over lawmakers, making it a powerful tool to achieve policy goals.

In states with more highly professionalized legislatures, on the other hand, special sessions don’t hold the same power. Lawmakers do have motivations to return to their districts, certainly, but they’re not concerned about losing out on income from their day jobs, because the legislature pays them a living wage. These legislatures also meet more often already, so there’s less time in which the governor can call a special session. Lawmakers can address gubernatorial policy goals in normal time, on their own terms, holding a relatively stronger bargaining position thanks to the lack of special attention being paid to the governor’s stated goals when it’s a regular session. 

In states like New York and California, special sessions are rare and far more limited in scope, compared to Texas. Governor Kathy Hochul called New York’s first special session in years last summer, to extend the state’s rental assistance programs and to nominate officials to oversee the production and distribution of marijuana. Even under pressure from California Republicans, Governor Gavin Newsom has refused to call a special session to address the state’s homelessness crisis. Without the constraint of an impossibly short regular session, special sessions simply aren’t the powerful gubernatorial tool they are in Texas. 

If the Texas constitution were to be amended to create a more professionalized legislature, special sessions wouldn’t be the tool they are now. By meeting annually, and for longer terms, lawmakers will have more time to take on the governor’s agenda from a stronger bargaining standpoint. And, if paid a living wage, lawmakers won’t feel pressure to avoid special sessions at all costs, and the threat will start to lose its power. 

Limiting this gubernatorial power play may help to tone down the somewhat volatile and extremist slant Texas politics has taken over the past few years. Special sessions have let recent governors pass their controversial, deeply conservative agendas—including some of the nation’s strictest abortion regulations, laws targeting transgender youth, and severe voting restrictions. With more regular meeting time, lawmakers will be able to pass legislation that focuses on the actual needs of their constituents, not just flashpoint conservative issues, and to address their governor’s demands without the looming threats of income loss or the media hubbub of a special session. As 2023 and its potential special sessions approach, increasing the regular Texas legislative session length is essential to protecting the state’s most vulnerable populations and making the governing body a more representative, truly democratic institution.  

Avery Lambert (BC’25) is a staff writer majoring in Medieval & Renaissance Studies. A seventh-generation Texan, she’s looking forward to a summer without any special sessions.