How the Washington State Legislature Works

Washington state has a larger economy than Argentina or Sweden. We’re home to two of the world’s five most valuable companies, a major aerospace manufacturer, the nation’s seventh-largest container port, and a $14 billion agricultural industry. Our state government manages a $78 billion biennial budget.

And we run all of this with a part-time legislature.

This is the first in a series of posts I’m planning about how Washington’s state government actually works. Understanding the mechanics matters because the structure shapes the outcomes, and our current structure has some serious problems baked in.

Legislative Sessions

The Washington State Constitution limits regular legislative sessions to 105 days in odd-numbered years and 60 days in even-numbered years. The 2025 session ran from January 13 to April 27. The 2026 session will be just 60 days from January 12 - March 12.

The logic behind this schedule: odd years are “budget years” when legislators write the state’s two-year operating budget. Even years are “short sessions” for supplemental adjustments. The assumption is that the heavy lifting happens in the long session, and the short session just handles cleanup.

In practice, this means even years are triage. There isn’t enough time for major policy initiatives. Bills that didn’t pass in the long session rarely get a second chance in the short one. If your issue isn’t already moving, you’re waiting another year.

The governor can call special sessions lasting up to 30 days, and legislators can convene themselves with a two-thirds vote in both chambers. But special sessions are politically costly and typically reserved for budget impasses or genuine emergencies.

How a Bill Becomes Law

Every bill introduced in Washington must navigate a committee gauntlet. In its chamber of origin, a bill goes through a Policy committee, then Rules. Bills with fiscal impact also go through a Fiscal committee. If a bill survives and wins a floor vote, the entire process repeats in the second chamber.

The math is unforgiving. In the 2025 session, legislators introduced roughly 1,900 bills, which works out to about 18 bills per day that need consideration somewhere in the process, and only 422 passed both chambers. Most bills die in committee, never receiving a hearing. The ones that survive do so because they have powerful sponsors, organized constituencies, or both.

Once a bill passes both chambers, the governor has 5 days to act if the legislature is still in session, or 20 days if they’ve adjourned. The governor can sign the bill, veto it entirely, or (for budget bills) use a line-item veto to strike specific provisions.

What Legislators Do the Rest of the Year

The National Conference of State Legislatures classifies Washington as a “Gray” or hybrid legislature. Legislators report spending more than two-thirds of a full-time job on legislative work, but the compensation doesn’t reflect that.

During the “interim” (the months between sessions), legislators serve on committees that meet periodically, respond to constituent concerns, attend community events, and prepare for the next session. They receive $206 per diem for interim work days.

But…most of our state legislators also have day jobs. They’re attorneys, teachers, business owners, or sometimes retirees. The part-time model assumes they can maintain careers while also representing 80,000 to 160,000 constituents, for Representatives and Senators, respectively. For some, this works. For others, it means either legislative work or their primary career suffers.

The Pay Problem

Washington state legislators earn $61,997 per year, with raises bringing that to $72,494 by mid-2026. These salaries are set by an independent Citizens’ Commission, not by the legislators themselves, which is actually a sensible reform most states haven’t adopted.

But even $72,000 in a state where median household income exceeds $97,000 creates selection pressure. For a software engineer, attorney, or business owner in their peak earning years, engaging in public service means taking a massive pay cut while simultaneously maintaining a second residence in Olympia during session.

Who can afford this? Retirees with pensions. People with inherited wealth. Young professionals before they have families. Public employees with union-negotiated leave policies. Small business owners who can step back from day-to-day operations. Moms and dads whose partners and kids miss out on time with one parent because public service is that important.

This isn’t a critique of the people who serve—many are dedicated public servants making real sacrifices. But the pool of people who can serve is constrained by economics or the willingness to sacrifice their happiness and well-being, and that shapes who represents us.

Why This Matters

There is no clear consensus across U.S. states about seating a part time or full-time legislature, although there does seem to be a loose red/blue political valence to the choice. Of the five largest state economies in the country, California, New York, and Illinois have either full time or near-full time legislatures. Texas and Florida have part time legislatures.

Widening our aperture, Washington has the ninth largest GDP in the country, ahead of Alaska, Hawaii, Massachusetts, Michigan, Ohio, or Wisconsin, all of which have either full time or near-full time legislatures. Does Washington have fewer challenges than Massachusetts or Michigan?

The complexity of governing an $800 billion economy in 60 to 105 days per year creates pressure that has to go somewhere. It goes to the executive branch, which operates year-round. It goes to lobbyists, who are full-time professionals working part-time legislators. It goes to staff, who provide institutional memory but can’t vote. And it goes to the initiative process, which lets organized groups, funded by private interests, bypass the legislature entirely.

Each of these pressure valves has consequences. When the legislature can’t act, someone else does—and that someone usually isn’t accountable to voters in the same way. The question isn’t whether Washington’s current system works. It’s about who it serves best and who it fails to serve.