There is an old saying in the halls of Congress and state capitols across the nation that there are two distinct types of lawmakers. There are the “show horses” who strut around the stage, calling attention to themselves but never getting anything done. And then there are the “work horses” who labor long and hard but rarely find themselves in the limelight. It has probably always been thus. But what happens when the show ponies get all the reward and those blue-collar types pulling the plows find themselves mostly ridiculed by their fellow equine? Will there be anybody left to be productive?

That’s essentially the question that faced Del. Eric Bouchat, 56, a former Carroll County commissioner elected in 2022 to represent Frederick and Carroll Counties (District 5) in the Maryland House of Delegates. Last week, he announced he will not seek reelection. The Republican told a reporter for the Carroll County Times that he was frustrated by how little influence Republicans have in Annapolis. This is not a shock given that Democrats outnumber Republicans by a hefty margin (102 to 39 in the House, a nearly 3-to-1 advantage). But it’s what happens as a result of this imbalance that really got under Bouchat’s hide.

To be a Republican in the Maryland General Assembly essentially presented him with two choices. First, he could put his head down and work at the committee level to craft legislation that would draw bipartisan support. It’s tedious stuff, this detailed policymaking. As a member of the House Judiciary Committee, that meant Bouchat would dissect criminal statutes and penalties, help set standards for police discipline or prison labor or illegal possession of firearms (all matters that came before the committee this past session). It’s detailed, exacting work that requires a level of nuance and judgment. It’s one thing, for example, to “back the blue”; it’s quite another to ignore flagrant violations of civil rights. This is not a place for absolutism.

The other choice was to be highly partisan, score political points whenever possible, and make speeches that would get a lot of “likes” on social media. The classic example of this is to wait on “second reader” floor votes on bills that have already been marked up in committee and offer last-minute amendments that have no chance of passage. Yet one can stand up and extoll the virtues of a major tax cut that you know can’t pass when the state is facing a budget deficit. Post that speech without necessary context and get adoring feedback on your YouTube channel. Of course, it will also mean that the Democrats who run the legislature will write you off as an annoying partisan hack, but what’s your incentive to care? Partisan hacks get more campaign donations than officeholders disparaged as RINOs or Republicans In Name Only.

This disincentive to act rationally can be vexing. “If you act pragmatically and productively,” Bouchat recently told me, “you are ostracized as not being a true Republican.” He said he just couldn’t bring himself to get worked up about LGBTQ+ kids in public school bathrooms or on regulating abortion instead of worrying about getting roads paved or schools built for his constituents. “I’m just not willing to sell my soul to anyone.”

The show-horse dilemma can be found in every political party, but it seems most vexing with Republicans these days. Members of the Grand Old Party dare not cross Donald Trump, or they’ll find themselves ostracized. Working with Democrats? That’s the sort of thing that can get a leader like Kevin McCarthy ousted as speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, following similar clashes with the party’s right-wing by predecessors Paul Ryan and John Boehner.

Robert R. Neall heavily influenced my education on this topic. When I first met him in the 1980s in the State House, he was the House minority leader and a brilliant lawmaker who often knew more about state agencies than the men and women running them. He went on to be elected Anne Arundel County executive but soon found himself at odds with his party for not being quite conservative enough. A quarter century ago, he switched to being a Democrat and prospered. Even at age 76, he still believes that legislative workhorse is the correct approach. “Everyone is a minority when they enter the legislature,” Neall insists. “You have only your wits, your energy and one vote, yet one can emerge with expertise, influence — even power — in a legislative body through hard work and strong relationships.”

Let’s hope he’s still right.

Peter Jensen is an editorial writer at The Baltimore Sun; he can be reached at pejensen@baltsun.com.