Staff Writers
AUSTIN – Few things focus the mind of a politician, and political donors, more than a fundraising deadline.
For three decades, a blackout period around the Legislature’s regular session has barred Texas lawmakers from raising political money while they tackle the state’s business in the Capitol.
Dec. 14 was the last day to raise campaign cash for the session that began last week, and the state’s 181 lawmakers responded to the deadline with gusto, raising a combined $13 million in two weeks — a number that jumps closer to $17 million when fundraising by Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, who presides over the Senate, is added.
The dash for cash in the two weeks preceding the session moratorium awes even the most veteran of political insiders — particularly as the skyrocketing cost of running a campaign requires officials to raise ever higher piles of money.
Get the latest politics news from North Texas and beyond.
Or with:
By signing up you agree to our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy
“Hell, it’s crazy,” longtime lobbyist Bill Miller, of Austin-based Hillco Partners, said of the biennial pre-session fundraising sprints. “There are multiple fundraisers every day, and they’re all over the place. There are so many fundraisers you can’t even count them.”
One of the most visible examples was the parade of lawmakers and lobbyists into the Austin Club, an exclusive gathering spot near the Capitol where political fundraisers stacked up in one- and two-hour time slots — nearly 60 private events in the first two weeks of December.
At the events, lawmakers wait in a designated room while lobbyists and other invited donors swing by with checks — sometimes getting a minute or two with the lawmaker, sometimes just dropping a check on a table at the door before moving on to the next one, according to several lawmakers and lobbyists who attended the events.
The fundraising frenzy at the private Austin Club between Election Day and the session blackout period is just the tip of the iceberg.
In-person and online fundraisers across the state had checks pouring into campaign coffers right up to midnight on the last day before the blackout.
The Dallas Morning News analyzed semiannual financial disclosures filed last week to discover how much money was raised in the first two weeks of December. The analysis included totals from state legislators’ candidate/officeholder accounts. For those whose campaigns raised no money last month, The News used fundraising numbers from their political committees.
Newly chosen House Speaker Dustin Burrows, a five-term Lubbock Republican, led all state legislators by raising $752,000 in December as he was making his run for the speaker’s gavel.
Forty members of the Legislature raked in six figures over the 14 days before the deadline — 23 senators and 17 representatives. Six legislators surpassed a quarter-million dollars, and two exceeded a half-million.
After Burrows, the top fundraisers in December were Sens. Bryan Hughes, R-Mineola, who raised $550,000, and Joan Huffman, R-Houston, who collected $381,000 through her Texans for Joan Huffman committee. Both have powerful positions in the Senate, with Hughes chairing the Jurisprudence and State Affairs committees, and Huffman leading the Finance Committee.
Nine North Texas lawmakers raised six figures in December, led by Flower Mound Republican Sen. Tan Parker’s nearly $263,000.
Other top fundraisers from the region included $233,000 by Sens. Brian Birdwell, R-Granbury; $207,000 by Phil King, R-Weatherford; $195,000 by Kelly Hancock, R-North Richland Hills; and $177,000 by Angela Paxton, R-McKinney.
In the House, Reps. David Cook, R-Mansfield, raised $178,000; Charlie Geren, R-Fort Worth, $154,000; Giovanni Capriglione, R-Southlake, $126,000; and Mitch Little, R-Lewisville, $103,000.
Sen. Nathan Johnson of Dallas and Rep. Ramon Romero Jr. of Fort Worth were the area’s top Democratic fundraisers, each collecting more than $90,000.
The 50 House and Senate members representing parts of North Texas collectively raised $3.1 million in that two-week span.
Top donors to North Texas legislators included business executives and political action committees. Texans for Lawsuit Reform PAC, Cottonwood Financial executive Trevor Ahlberg and Texas Realtors PAC collectively contributed more than $900,000 to political candidates and causes across the state in December, cutting 29 five-figure checks.
State law requires legislators to stop accepting donations one month before the regular session starts, with fundraising allowed to resume three weeks after it ends. Lawmakers can fundraise during 30-day special sessions, which can be called by the governor between regular sessions.
Lawmakers and political insiders say the race to raise cash in the days before a blackout is critical to their ability to be effective during the 140-day session.
“It’s expensive to be down here,” said Geren, a 20-year lawmaker who spends up to $1 million to win reelection every two years. “I use the money to supplement my office budget during the session — but also I will be running mail pieces, text messages, social media, all of that during the session to inform the people in my district what’s going on. And you can’t do that for free anymore. I’ll spend a quarter-million during session just on advertising.”
There is still plenty of opportunity for lobbyists to indulge lawmakers during the session.
Texas law allows lobbyists to spend money on lawmakers’ behalf with restrictions and reporting requirements: They can pay for transportation and lodging to official events or fact-finding excursions, and they can buy food and beverages and host entertainment events — as long as the lobbyist is present for the meals or events. They can also give gifts, with strict limits, and most have to be reported to the Texas Ethics Commission.
By the time the session rolls around every other year, many lawmakers have drained their campaign accounts during the election. Meanwhile, they’re temporarily living in one of the most expensive cities in the state — and on a salary that’s often better suited to their districts, from jobs they largely abandon during the session.
They have to pay rent, buy groceries and fly home or burn gas if they’re commuting to jobs or families on the weekends. Many use campaign cash to boost staff salaries to more competitive levels.
Lawmakers are paid an annual salary of $7,200, plus a per diem of $267 when they’re in session that is set by the Texas Ethics Commission.
Having to worry about fundraising during the chaos of a session would distract lawmakers trying to pass bills and lobbyists trying to advocate for clients, said Tom Forbes, president of Professional Advocacy Association of Texas, which represents and trains lobbyists and public advocates.
“Appearances do matter. It’s also best for the system and the legislative process for everyone to be concentrated on the session,” Forbes said. “With a state as big as ours, and a budget as big as ours, and all the myriad issues that come up, just being a member is very difficult to do. If you have yet another job tacked on top of all that, it makes things a lot more difficult.”
Miller, who lobbies in Washington, D.C., and Austin, said every legislative body should regularly pause fundraising for that reason.
“In Washington, there’s no such thing,” Miller said. “There are fundraisers every day of the year, all kinds of them, and I do think it’s important to take a break from that. I know that money is the mother’s milk and all that, but the events themselves to raise money? I’m glad it’s curtailed [in Texas] and I wish Washington would do the same thing.”
The Texas moratorium was enacted to limit outside influence, or the appearance of it, on state policy, said Rep. Tom Craddick, a Midland Republican and former House speaker who was in the Legislature before the moratorium began.
He recalled the 1989 controversy that triggered the collective “ick” over raising money while voting on laws. Millionaire East Texas chicken magnate Lonnie “Bo” Pilgrim passed out $10,000 checks to nine senators at their desks on the floor a few days before voting was to begin during a special session on worker’s compensation.
Pilgrim, who died in 2017, insisted his checks were contributions and not intended to buy votes. But while his actions were legal, such a brazen demonstration was too much for the Capitol crowd to stomach, Craddick said.
“There was big scuttlebutt about whether people were getting money for doing a bill,” Craddick said. “It was a real problem. People would raise some money, and they’d say, ‘Well, somebody got paid.’ And I’m not saying that it was happening, but it raised the question. And the moratorium really calmed down that discussion.”
The moratorium was passed as part of an ethics bill a few years later after House Speaker Gib Lewis, a Fort Worth Democrat, was convicted of misdemeanor violations after failing to disclose some contributions.
Contributions made inside the Capitol grounds are now prohibited by law.
Fundraising near the session still raises some hackles, particularly with the growing amounts of cash involved. Critics say raising enormous amounts of money just weeks before lawmakers make high-stakes decisions on legislation affecting millions of Texans is, at best, a bad look.
“One has to wonder if the folks back home know that their newly elected representatives are being consumed by the Austin swamp before they’re even sworn into office,” said Jason Sabo, a veteran public interest lobbyist who has been advocating, largely for nonprofits, at the Capitol for 25 years.
House Democratic Caucus Chairman Gene Wu, D-Houston, said he understands the reservations but doesn’t see many viable alternatives. Lengthening the moratorium would put House members, who have only 18 months per each two-year term to raise campaign money, in a more difficult position — and allowing fundraising during the session is unacceptable, he said.
“I hate that we have to raise so much money for our campaigns, but it is what it is,” Wu said. “And until people figure out another way, this is the way things are.”
Wu raised $117,000 in December, when he was being considered by Democratic colleagues for chair of the House Democratic Caucus. His platform included plans to elevate the caucus — which coordinates floor fights against GOP priorities — with higher paid staff and other professional efforts.
The money Wu raised in December went to the caucus for that purpose, he said, and will support the staff and operations this session. Wu was elected in December to chair the caucus.
“Part of the reason why I ran [for chairman] was to make HDC a more professional organization, and that requires you to hire professional people,” Wu said. “And professional people want professional salaries.”
There is no serious effort underway at the Capitol to extend the moratorium period, and even if a change was made, the 11th-hour dash would still happen — because politicians and donors are humans, Miller said.
“People are most effective on deadline, legislatively and otherwise,” Miller said. “Financially speaking, you’ve got a curfew, if you will, so you put a real effort into it at the end.”
Karen Brooks Harper has covered Texas politics in and out of Austin for nearly 30 years. She's also covered the cartel wars along the TX-MX border, Congress in Mexico City, and 6 hurricanes, among other stories. Raised on blues and great food in the MS Delta, she lives in ATX with her family, her guitar, and her boxing gloves. In that order.
Nolan covers Texas politics. Before relocating to Austin in June 2024, he spent nearly a decade in Washington, D.C., reporting on national politics, including the White House, Congress and presidential campaigns. He is a graduate of Florida A&M University.