Cause of Death: Procedure — A Natural History of Congress's Killer Phrases

Every year, roughly 10,000 bills are introduced in Congress. Fewer than 3 percent become law. The remainder are not defeated by opponents, or killed by scandal, or felled by lack of merit. They die of language.

That is the central finding of the Institute for the Study of Parliamentary Violence, a 34-person research body in Bethesda, Maryland, which this week published its annual Lethality Index — a catalogue of the procedural phrases responsible for the overwhelming majority of legislative deaths in the United States.

"Americans worry about lobbyists, dark money, and special interests," said the Institute's director, Dr. Marjorie Trimble. "Nobody worries about the sentence 'held at the desk.' That sentence has a higher kill count than most cabinet departments."

The Institute recommends that ordinary citizens learn to recognize the phrases below in the same way hikers learn to recognize poison ivy: at a distance, and with no sudden movements.

No. 10: "I object."

Estimated kills: 6,400 measures, overwhelmingly nominations and unanimous-consent agreements that were one syllable away from safety.

"Survived by a press release and a deeply disappointed intern."

No. 9: "Held at the desk."

Estimated kills: 8,900. The workhorse of the modern House, this phrase ends a bill's life at the Speaker's desk, a piece of furniture that has, statistically, ended more legislative careers than any individual member.

"Died of furniture."

No. 8: "Referred to the Committee on ______."

Estimated kills: 40,000-plus, making it the deadliest phrase by volume, though not by technique. The bill is not killed so much as absorbed.

"Entered for observation. The committee is still observing."

No. 7: "Laid on the table."

Estimated kills: 12,300. Under Senate rules, a tabled measure may be taken up again at any time. It has never once been taken up again at any time.

"Rests now."

No. 6: "The clerk will read the amendment."

Estimated kills: 2,700. No bill in recorded history has survived a full reading. The last attempt, in 1996, ended on page 40 of a highway bill when three senators and one stenographer had to be relieved.

"Was read. That was the problem."

No. 5: "Postponed until a time certain."

Estimated kills: 5,600. The time, procedural experts confirm, is certain. It is simply never now.

"Outlived its own deadline."

No. 4: "I rise today, and I intend to speak for some time."

Estimated kills: 3,100. The polite form of the filibuster, in which a bill is talked to death over the course of eleven hours, two quorum calls, and one sandwich.

"Spoken to death. Survived by the transcript."

No. 3: "Returned to the calendar."

Estimated kills: 7,800. The calendar is not, despite its name, a schedule. Veterans describe it as a list of things to place on a list.

"Placed on a list of things to place on a list."

No. 2: "Point of order."

Estimated kills: 19,000. The reigning champion of one-on-one combat, undefeated in direct challenges since 1985. The Institute maintains footage of every attempt to override a point of order in the past four decades and screens the tapes annually, the way other institutes screen the Zapruder film.

"Ruled out of order in life and in death."

No. 1: "The Senate shall now proceed to its next item of business."

Estimated kills: 23,400. The quietest killer on the list. There is no vote, no objection, no recorded dissent. The Senate simply proceeds, and the bill in question stops being discussed and — according to witnesses — stops existing.

"Was next."

A Public Safety Announcement

The Institute notes with alarm that "point of order" has now gone forty years without a loss, and that no natural countermeasure has emerged in the wild. Its public education campaign — See Something, Sine Die — urges Americans to learn the warning signs of legislative exposure, which include optimism, a bipartisan press conference, and the phrase "we expect a vote next week."

"Your favorite bill is not safe," Trimble said. "Your favorite bill has never been safe. Your favorite bill is currently at the desk."

The Institute's full report runs 340 pages and closes, as it does every year, with the observation that the deadliest phrase in Congress may not yet be in the catalogue at all: "We look forward to working with our colleagues on both sides of the aisle."

Nothing is expected to change.