March 16, 2025
The Cost of Doing What’s Right
Standing Firm in a Legislature That Prefers the Easy Path
By: Idaho Dist. 25 Representative David Leavitt
Being a legislator isn’t easy. Many people think it’s just about pushing buttons, casting votes, and giving speeches. But what they don’t see—the part that keeps you up at night—is the weight of those decisions. The moments when doing the right thing means standing firm, often against overwhelming pressure, knowing full well it will cost you. It may feel isolating at times, but I am not alone. I stand in solidarity with those who refuse to take the easy way out, who are committed to making the tough decisions to protect our state’s future.
General Norman Schwarzkopf once said, “Everyone knows the right thing to do. The hardest thing is doing it.” I lived that truth the other day when I stood on the House floor and spoke against an enhancement budget bill for the Division of Veterans Services. It wasn’t an easy decision because this budget directly impacts the veterans who rely on these services—men and women I’ve fought alongside, brothers and sisters I’ve shared trenches with. As a disabled veteran myself, I know the sacrifices they’ve made because I’ve made them too. I understand their struggles, the challenges they face, and the importance of ensuring they receive the care and support they deserve. I deeply appreciate the work of our veteran service officers in helping them navigate these systems. And yet, I had to say no.
We cannot continue down this path of unsustainable government growth. I took a pledge not to vote for any enhancement budgets that create more full-time government positions, take more federal money, or grow the government by more than 1.2%. If we hold the line, we could save taxpayers nearly $1 billion next year. But that commitment comes with hard choices. We can’t keep spending recklessly, pretending federal money will always be there. What happens when it dries up? What happens when the rug is pulled out from under us? How do we take care of our veterans then? How do we take care of each other? It broke my heart, but I could not vote for that bill.
The decision haunted me long before I stepped onto the House floor. It lingers in my thoughts, keeps me awake at night, and even finds its way into my dreams. From the moment I read the bill, I wrestled with how I would vote, knowing the weight of my decision. I play out every scenario, weighing my commitment to responsible spending against my deep respect for the veterans who rely on these services. And I know—oh, I know—how this will be used against me. Some slick campaign ad will twist my vote into a smear, claiming I don’t support veterans. But let me be clear: if supporting veterans means setting them up for failure down the road, then that’s not real support. That’s a lie we tell ourselves to feel better in the moment. I won’t play that game. After struggling with it for days, I made the hardest decision—I had to say no.
This wasn’t the first time I had to wrestle with a vote like this. Earlier this year, I sponsored a charter school bill meant to help military families by giving their kids priority access. It seemed like a great idea—until I learned the unintended consequences. Nearly 400 kids would lose their school. Forty-five teachers would lose their jobs. An entire community near a military base would be thrown into chaos. I especially liked that this school would have taught a conservative curriculum from Hillsdale College. But at what cost?
I had to kill my own bill. I had to admit that something I believed in—something I fought for—wasn’t the right answer. That’s the reality of this job. It’s not about doing what feels good in the moment. It’s about making the hard calls, even when it hurts.
It would be easy to take the path of least resistance—to vote for bigger government, more spending, and policies that promise immediate relief but create long-term burdens on taxpayers. But that is not the proper role of government. Government exists to protect freedoms, be responsible stewards of taxpayer dollars, and ensure that people can pursue happiness without placing undue burdens on others. I could vote for legislation that expands government, spends more taxpayer money, and gives me a fleeting sense of satisfaction. But I would be living a lie at the expense of the productive members of society.
Every tough vote weighs on me because I know the people it impacts. That responsibility isn’t lost on me. My duty is to the citizens who elected me. Government should serve the people, not expand its own power at their expense. I will not compromise my principles for short-term wins, nor will I betray the trust of those who put me in office by making decisions that feel good now but set us up for failure later.
Being a legislator isn’t about taking the easy road. It’s about standing firm when every instinct tells you to give in. It’s about choosing the hard right over the easy wrong. And that’s exactly what I intend to keep doing.
