Opinion: Colorado property tax special session shines light on undue influence of dark money groups

There are very few people with the power to force a whole state government to get to work.

In Colorado, the governor is one of those people. We know his name. He generally has to be public about his actions. And voters can hold him to account.

As we saw this week, others possess this power, but their identities are concealed.

They are the wealthy supporters of a “dark money” group, which can spend massive amounts of money to influence policy — public policy that every resident of the state must live with but is untraceable to a source that’s answerable to the public.

Emergency business that’s taking place this week at the Capitol ostensibly is about property taxes. But it’s at least as much about how a tsunami of money can warp lawmaking and distort democracy.

In May, at the end of the regular legislative session, Colorado lawmakers passed a bipartisan bill to curb rising property taxes in the state. Democratic Gov. Jared Polis helped guide the bill’s passage and signed it into law, and the achievement was lauded as a moment of cross-party teamwork in an institution often marred by bitter partisanship.

Not good enough, said Advance Colorado.

Advance is a nonprofit group that advocates small government and other conservative priorities. It’s piloted by Michael Fields, its president, but its engine remains hidden. Advance has become increasingly influential in many facets of state politics. Most recently, it pushed two citizen initiatives, 50 and 108, onto the November ballot. These property tax-cutting measures would so drain schools, fire departments and other public services across Colorado that some observers doubt that even Advance ever intended for them to pass but rather wielded them as a threat. “Cut more taxes or else!”

Well played, Advance. The threat worked.

Polis called the Legislature back to work, and this week during a special session, lawmakers are working on giving Fields and his unknown backers — or, if you’re not a cynic, homeowners — a new round of tax cuts that won’t decimate local districts. They hope the new cuts will persuade him to pull the noxious initiatives from the ballot.

Fields has proved agile and effective. He has notched several conservative achievements in a state where Democrats nominally dominate Capitol politics at every turn. But he is only the face of an organization that’s in many respects a complete mystery.

As it demonstrated this week in spectacular fashion, Advance Colorado can operate as if it’s the fourth branch of Colorado state government. But unlike with the constitutionally established branches, Coloradans can’t vote out its officers or have any say in its actions. Most alarmingly, Coloradans don’t know who’s supplying its money or their true motivations, because nonprofits don’t have to disclose their donors. 

When Polis some weeks ago took part in secret negotiations with Fields over property tax cuts, who was he really negotiating with? Does Polis even know?

The reality is that the people of Colorado have no idea who forced their entire state government to reform tax policy.

“Who took the Legislature hostage?” asked Scott Wasserman, a political advisor and former president of the left-leaning Bell Policy Center. “I think that’s an extremely important question.”

It’s not like people haven’t tried to find out. A campaign finance complaint in 2020 against Unite for Colorado — which Advance was known as at the time — prompted the secretary of state’s office to impose a fine against the organization and order it to disclose its donors. But it has done everything in its power to resist the order, and the case is still pending in the courts.

In a recent filing in that case, the organization provided a view on its huge resources. In 2020, for example, it says it spent more than $17 million on “policy matters,” and more than $4 million went to advertising and other work on three statewide ballot measures. It got its way on two of the three.

With that kind of muscle, Advance got Polis and Colorado Democrats to bend to its will, and yet the people of Colorado are left wondering where the real power rests.

“There really is no accountability,” Wasserman said. “They are actively negotiating with the governor’s office and are controlling the scope of the special session — I mean, no one has stopped to say, ‘Wait a minute, you guys are an organization with a standing court order to disclose your donors, maybe it’s completely improper for you guys to be essentially in charge of the special session.’”

Dark money in politics has proliferated in recent years, especially since the U.S. Supreme Court’s disastrous 2010 Citizens United decision, which allowed unlimited spending on elections by corporations, including nonprofits. The practice is hardly limited to the right. Millions in dark money supported Democrats or liberal causes in the 2022 elections in Colorado. 

But rarely has the plutocratic result of secret political donations been on such vivid display as it was this week at the Colorado Capitol. Many proposals to reform campaign finance laws have emerged in recent years as dark money donors have amassed influence. Those proposals, more than ever, deserve urgent attention in Colorado.

Editor’s note: This opinion column first appeared on Colorado Newsline, which is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Colorado Newsline maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Quentin Young for questions: info@coloradonewsline.com. Follow Colorado Newsline on Facebook and X.