Are We Setting Up Our Legislators to Be on the Payroll of Lobbyists?

By Renee’ Savant | CO₂ Chronicles

Louisiana pays its state lawmakers $16,800 a year—the same amount they earned in 1989. For 36 years, not a dime of that has changed. Adjusted for inflation, that 1989 paycheck would be worth about $44,000 today. Instead, Louisiana legislators are earning barely a third of that value while being asked to make decisions on multi-billion-dollar issues that shape our economy, our environment, and our democracy.

It’s a setup—and not a subtle one.

When public servants are underpaid, it narrows the field of who can realistically serve. Only the wealthy, the retired, or those whose employers allow extended absences can afford to spend months in Baton Rouge. For everyone else—the teachers, small business owners, farmers, nurses, and working families who would bring real-world perspective to policymaking—the cost is too high.

So, who fills the gap? The lobbyists.

While lawmakers earn less than a starting teacher, lobbyists stroll the Capitol halls with expense accounts, catered receptions, and travel stipends. It’s not hard to see how the imbalance breeds influence. When the state doesn’t pay its own representatives enough to live on, the people who can afford to fill in the gaps—whether through campaign donations, steak dinners, or post-session “consulting opportunities”—gain disproportionate power.

This isn’t just a Louisiana problem, but ours is among the worst. Legislators in Georgia earn over $24,000, Florida lawmakers nearly $30,000, and Alabama’s legislators over $62,000 a year, automatically adjusted each year to match household income. Meanwhile, Louisiana lawmakers must still rely on a small per diem and “unvouchered expenses” to supplement their outdated base pay.

That raises the question: How can we expect ethical independence when the system itself invites dependency?

A fair salary doesn’t make politicians immune to corruption—but it does make integrity possible. It levels the field so that ordinary citizens—not just the well-connected—can afford to serve. It removes the financial pressure that quietly pushes public servants toward the orbit of special interests.

So why hasn’t it changed since 1989?

Because voting for a pay raise is political suicide. No legislator wants to face attack ads for “voting themselves a raise,” even if that raise would simply restore parity with what the job was worth decades ago.

But there’s a responsible way to fix it. States like Alabama have removed politics by tying legislative pay to the median household income, allowing for automatic adjustments that reflect real economic conditions. Louisiana could follow that model—or create an independent compensation commission to make recommendations without forcing lawmakers to vote on their own salaries.

The longer we ignore it, the more we hand the microphone to moneyed interests.

Louisiana deserves lawmakers who serve out of conviction, not necessity. When we fail to compensate them fairly, we chip away at the integrity of public service and open the door for influence to creep in through the cracks. It shouldn’t take personal sacrifice to stand up for what’s right, or private wealth to have a voice in the people’s house. We can do better—for the sake of those who still believe in honest government, and for the next generation watching to see if democracy in Louisiana still belongs to the people or to those who can afford to buy it.