As I peruse Colorado Politics each week, in search of a topic upon which I can wax philosophic, I sometimes come across stories that seem, frankly, to be quite dull or even unimportant upon first glance. But when I dig a bit deeper, sometimes things appear more significant than at first glance.

Such is the case with the CoPo story, “10th Circuit dismisses challenge to Colorado legislature’s decorum rules.” This case raises the question of whether a state legislature can compel civility, or at least what the majority party believes to be civility. Ruling on an appeal, the federal appellate court ruled yes, decorum rules can be created, and you can’t sue because you believe that civility rules stifle your free speech.

Let me say right off, I’m a believer in civility. I find little to admire in those who spew their words with the invective of excoriation. I frankly don’t respect those who can’t keep a civil tongue, and I don’t believe I’ve ever been swayed in an opinion by being yelled at regarding my position by any such uncivil person.

That is why I think this case is rather interesting, and perhaps more important historically, than it might initially appear. A federal appeals court, based in Denver, ruled Colorado lawmakers cannot be sued because they created and then enforced rules of decorum in the operation of their legislative body. Their legislative immunity, the court found, extends to such actions.

Now, I know what you are thinking: how often are people actually being uncivil in hearings and other governmental interactions? I’m thinking, not too often. But it has occurred, and in ways that thoughtful people can disagree on, as to whether the comments were truly uncivil.

The case that apparently raised these concerns was in regard to House Bill 1071, is a case that frankly I can’t understand why there would be any opposition in the first place. This bill, now Colorado law, allows convicted felons the ability to legally change their names to align with their own gender identity. Non-felons can apparently make this change, and when one thinks about what felons should be denied, after finishing the debt to society, I confess forbidding name changes doesn’t seem to be to be something to add to the burden of being a felon.

In a hearing of the House Judiciary Committee, then chair Mike Weissman (whom I know a tiny little bit) called a recess during one witness’s testimony due to that witness repeatedly referred to trans women, and said “gender is nothing,” which generated boos from the audience. A similar event took place in another hearing, and the folks in charge said such testimony violated decorum rules for the legislature. I’m not an expert in Colorado legislative deportment, but I accept the premise some behaviors are at least of concern.

Others disagreed, and sued, and a judge dismissed the case, basically upholding the idea legislative immunity extended to decorum rules. As one judge wrote, “Under the circumstances of this case, the Court finds that Defendants’ alleged acts were related to Defendants’ legislative function of overseeing public testimony on pending legislation and gathering relevant information and input from the public. These are ‘integral steps in the legislative process.’”

Ok, I get that. I get legislators must feel free to express their opinions, and a civil exchange of ideas must also include some basic, well, civility.

The plaintiffs in the case had argued allowing such decorum rules was essentially controlling free speech and therefore put the legislature above the First Amendment. I admit that argument kind of rings true with me. I consider myself a Hugo Black absolutist on free speech. As an associate justice of the U.S. Supreme Court years ago, Black considered the First Amendment’s restrictions on Congress were “clear, unequivocal, and absolute.”

Yet the Supreme Court precedent the Colorado appeals court cited from a 1951 case, Tenney v. Brandhove, ruled, basically, members of legislative bodies must be able to operate freely, without worry they might get sued all the time for saying controversial things. Interestingly, then Justice Black agreed with the majority.

I suspect that were I in the state legislature and there was a witness or two who continuously tried to disrupt a hearing, I’d get pretty tired of that type of childish behavior and might well want to invoke a decorum rule or two.

But that absolutist streak in me still causes me concern. I often told my students at the Air Force Academy the really important court cases were rarely clearcut and obvious. Often, the issue is rights in conflict, and courts must often decide which right is the most grievously injured or which is more vital to our national character.

So, as is so often the case in these missives of mine, after several hundred words pondering an important principle, my necessary response must be “I don’t know, it depends on the circumstances.” A very unsatisfactory answer, to be sure.

How about you? Is decorum worth something in this political age? I think so, but around the edges, it gets tricky.

Hal Bidlack is a retired professor of political science and a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel who taught more than 17 years at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.