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Sturdevant: When departing Hornstein describes value of friendships, the incoming Legislature should listen
House members are going to need to shed some of their hyperpartisan bad habits.
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Just when the Minnesota Legislature really needs practitioners of bipartisan cooperation and mutual respect — not to mention a good Bob Dylan impression — Frank Hornstein is retiring.
This is not my customary farewell to an able and long-serving legislator, though Hornstein surely fills that bill.
That’s what I might have offered, had not Minnesota voters (abetted by some long-ago judges, whom I’ll blast shortly) opted to send 67 DFLers and 67 Republicans to the 2025 Minnesota House. Come January — unless one pending court challenge in a Shakopee district results in an outcome reversal — the House will be tied, as it has not been since 1979.
Suddenly the relationship-building skills that DFLer Hornstein from southwest Minneapolis exhibited through 22 years in office aren’t just pleasantries. They are vital governing tools. The ability of the 2025 Legislature to perform its minimal duty — that is, to balance the state budget in 2026-27 and beyond — may depend on the prevalence of those qualities among rank-and-file legislators.
Hornstein gets that. He is a 65-year-old former community organizer, husband of a rabbi and son of two Holocaust survivors. All four of his grandparents died at the hands of the Nazis. His family’s story can be seen as a cautionary tale about what can happen when governments abandon tolerance in favor of ideological purity, scapegoating and violence.
He came to the Legislature in 2003 as more than a nice guy with a knack for funny impersonations. He wanted to make government work, and he knew that required collaboration, compromise and patience. He worked for at least 15 years on the major transportation funding bill he shepherded into law in 2023, all the while making friends throughout the chamber.
That’s why I asked Hornstein recently to do more than reminisce. I wanted to hear his tips for working effectively across the partisan aisle while simultaneously upholding his own policy priorities — in his case, on transportation, climate and the environment.
“It’s really important to make the extra effort to connect with people on a human basis,” Hornstein told me. “A lot of legislators engage now and then with the other side of the aisle. But doing that on an ongoing basis is the critical thing. It’s really important to not just start a relationship, but keep the relationship going.”
Get to know not just each other’s names, but the names of spouses and children, Hornstein advises. Acquire private phone numbers. (Hornstein memorizes them.) Visit each other’s districts. Don’t blindside the opposition with “gotcha” surprises.
Go to funerals. That’s what Hornstein did when Republican Rep. John Petersburg of Waseca lost his wife in 2022. Though Hornstein does not drive, he arranged a ride to attend the funeral. “I’ll always remember,” Petersburg told Governing magazine.
Petersburg also retired this year. He was one of two House Republicans who showed up at Hornstein’s Nov. 10 retirement party in Linden Hills.
Hornstein’s advice would have sounded self-evident to legislators a few decades ago. The fact that his friendship regimen made him stand out among his 133 fellow House members in recent years attests to how much the partisanship of the last several decades has damaged the institution’s social norms.
It’s likely no coincidence that as civility eroded, so did legislative productivity when government is divided. And the Legislature can’t get more divided than it will be in 2025: 67-67 in the House, and 34 DFLers to 33 Republicans in the Senate.
Who would design a legislative branch of government that allowed for such a nasty split, you might ask? That would be a panel of federal appellate judges with Minnesota pedigrees in 1972 — all of whom I admired for their work on cases other than this one.
Gerald Heaney of Duluth, Earl Larson of Minneapolis and Edward Devitt of St. Paul handled Minnesota’s decennial redistricting lawsuit that year. They first tried to shrink the Senate to 35 members and the House to 105 — an arithmetically elegant but politically toxic idea that was struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court.
Then they decreed that Minnesota must end its practice of allowing one state Senate district to be served by three House members rather than the customary two. That took the House from 135 members to 134, creating the potential for an evenly divided body.
The judges said they considered an even split highly unlikely. Just six years later, it happened. Now it has happened again.
A systemic fix is possible. Minnesota could look again at what the three jurists tried, creating a 3:1 ratio of House to Senate members. The consequent political pain could be eased by enlarging the Legislature. That’s been done before. The Minnesota Legislature had 147 members in 1880, 183 in 1910, and 198 for a 40-year span in the mid-20th century.
I expect ideas like those to simmer until 2031, when redistricting will again be on the Legislature’s front burner. For now, House members need to find a way to function with neither side clearly in charge. To do that, they’re going to need to shed some of the hyperpartisan bad habits of the last few decades.
Hornstein’s advice: “People need to understand that they were elected to govern together. They can’t do their jobs alone.”
Instead of working hard to make the other side look bad, they should aim together to make Minnesota look good.
Lori Sturdevant is a retired Star Tribune editorial writer. She is at lsturdevant@startribune.com.
Sturdevant: When departing Hornstein describes value of friendships, the incoming Legislature should listen
House members are going to need to shed some of their hyperpartisan bad habits.