Democrats for the most part were enthusiastic. Stick it to the bad guys! Send a message that California won’t do business with bigots! Refuse to tolerate intolerance!
In fact, though, the travel ban has been something of a bust. It hasn’t done much if anything to achieve its goal, assuming its goal was to pressure other states to protect and expand LGBTQ rights. Instead, during the intervening years, the number of states being boycotted, which began with Kansas, Mississippi, North Carolina and Tennessee, has grown to 23.
Opinion Columnist
Nicholas Goldberg
Nicholas Goldberg served 11 years as editor of the editorial page and is a former editor of the Op-Ed page and Sunday Opinion section.
Now, seven years after the ban went into effect, there’s a movement underway to repeal it. And it’s long past time.
For the most part, the arguments being put forward for repeal are sensible, practical ones that justify the decision to backtrack.
The ban hasn’t appeared to change people’s attitudes in the banned states, nor has it changed their laws.
And it’s got lots of loopholes. Travel to banned states is allowed if the trip is deemed “required.” Even if it’s not, legislators may travel to those states as long as they pay with their campaign funds, rather than state tax dollars. Trips by athletes from California’s public universities are permissible too if they’re funded by corporate sponsors or private boosters. Meanwhile, the travel ban has obstructed legitimate academic research and travel to conferences by UC and Cal State scholars and students.
But while the arguments for repeal are all legitimate, they miss what to me is the single biggest problem with the ban: Imposing a boycott on nearly half the states in the union further divides us as a country. It exacerbates political polarization and creates obstacles to communication with the very people we need to be persuading.
That point that was made last month by Senate President Pro Tem Toni Atkins (D-San Diego), who introduced the repeal legislation and is leading the fight for its passage.
Although she initially voted for the ban back in 2016, Atkins now believes it’s time for a “pivot,” as she put it, because “polarization is not working.” She hopes to repeal the boycott and replace it with a California-sponsored publicity campaign in red states to encourage LGBTQ acceptance and discourage discrimination. Her bill is scheduled for its first committee hearing on Monday.
Atkins has some perspective on the subject, having grown up lesbian in the South.
“I know from personal experience growing up in a rural community, where it is more conservative, that the way to change people’s minds is to have impact and direct contact and to open hearts and minds,” Atkins said recently.
Atkins’ comments go to the heart of an ongoing debate among moderate Democrats, liberals and progressives. Should we engage our political adversaries and seek to persuade them — or should we throw up our hands and deem them unreachable and unreasonable? Is it more effective to work within the democratic system with those we disagree with, or to accept that there’s an unbridgeable chasm between us and settle in for battle?
Like Atkins, I’m in the engagement camp (though sometimes my commitment is sorely tested). Deep as our differences are in the United States and offensive as anti-gay and anti-transgender laws are, initiating state-against-state boycotts rather than opening avenues of dialogue strikes me as counterproductive if we still have any hope of making American democracy work.
I called Atkins last week to talk about her belief that California needs to adjust its strategy.
“I think everyday people are tired of polarization,” she told me. “We’re so focused on what we believe, and if you don’t agree with me I’m not going to deal with you. It separates us and that’s a really bad thing.”
Atkins said that as a legislator who has to work with others to make law, she believes in civility and diplomacy even with those whose positions are opposed to her own.
I know many progressive people who believe that we’re past the point of cooperation, that compromise with Republicans is a fool’s errand and that there’s little to be gained from discussions with conservatives, evangelicals or bigots who simply can’t be reasoned with.
But I cling to the idea of engagement because I’m not sure what the alternative is.
Besides, attitudes can and do change. Sometimes it happens slowly, but it can happen. And gay rights is actually a great example of that.
As recently as 2004, Americans opposed same-sex marriage by 60% to 31%, according to the Pew Research Center. By 2019, 15 years later, those numbers were reversed — with 61% supporting gay marriage and 31% opposed. Republican support for gay marriage climbed from 19% to 44% in that period.
Now I’m not saying 44% support from Republicans is so great. Marriage equality should be considered a basic human right, yet not even half of all Republicans support it.
But 44% is a lot higher than 19%.
And I believe that number is more likely to keep rising if there is communication. Opponents of gay rights famously change their attitudes when they meet people who are gay, work with people who are gay, have conversations with people who are gay or realize that members of their own families — people they love — are gay.
Not because they’re threatened with travel bans, trade wars or the wrath of California Democrats.