Legislative bill tracking in Kentucky is a challenge.

Bills are assigned overbroad and misleading titles to deflect attention from their intended purpose.

In 2018, HB 302 was introduced as "An act relating to reorganization" of the Public Protection Cabinet. As enacted, this act relating to reorganization of Public Protection created two new exceptions to the open records law and one new exception to the open meetings law. As amended but not enacted, it would have also redefined the term "public record" to exclude the "emails, texts, or calls on devices paid for entirely with private funds" on which many, if not most, public officials conduct public business. The consequences would have been castastrophic.

In the same session, HB 592 began as "An Act to insert gender neutral language" into an existing education statute. It was later renamed "An Act relating to public agencies." To everyone's surprise, the bill radically altered the video teleconference section of the open meetings law -- enacted in 1994 to encourage citizens to participate by video teleconference in public meetings conducted at meeting sites across the state -- into a section that encourages electronic participation of public officials in public meetings rather than physical presence.

In the 2019 regular session, the failed HB 387 was entitled "An Act relating to public records for economic development" but became a bill that created a residency requirement for use of the open records law, added new non-economic development exceptions, expanded other non-economic development exceptions, and eliminated the right of the public to appeal the denial of a request for records of the Legislative Research Commission to the courts.

The also unsuccessful SB 193, "An Act relating to personal information" began as "An Act relating to gender neutral language." That language is apparently a "tell"—it indicates a placeholder for often bad legislation to be inserted later in the session.

SB 193 would have, among other things, redefined the terms "public record" and "public agency" more narrowly than they are currently defined, and it would have exposed records custodians to personal liability up to $500 for releasing "protected information."

High paid lobbyists are no doubt skillful at unearthing proposed legislation that affects their clients' interest, but most of us struggle to locate those buried timebombs waiting to go off after they are surreptitiously enacted.

My primitive approach is simple if tedious. I check the "Bill and Amendment Index Heading" on the Legislative Reseach Commission's website under Bills, Session (broken down by year and regular, special, or interim), and, finally, Miscellaneous. The heading index categorizes bills by alphabetized topical area. "Public Records and Reports" and "Public Officers and Employees" identify most of the major bills aimed at revising open records and open meetings. Its not a foolproof approach, but it usually works.

This editorial from the Medford, Oregon Mail Tribune suggests a much better solution. Following years of steady decline in its public records laws, Oregon lawmakers enacted provisions in 2017 aimed at improving the laws.

Among them was a provision that requires the Oregon legislature to create open government impact statements for every bill introduced. Like a fiscal impact note that describes the financial consequences of a bill, which Kentucky law provides for, the open government impact statement which Oregon law now requires ensure that no proposed law affecting the public's right to know goes undetected.

Of the 2500 bills filed in the current Oregon legislative session, the impact statements revealed that 80 bills affected the state's public records laws. Many of those bills died in committee, leaving 46 bill for access advocates and citizens to closely track.

The idea is beguiling in its simplicity. It therefore has little to no chance of ever being considered -- much less enacted -- by the Kentucky legislature.