When a senator or congressman, who has been elected as a lawmaker, makes a stupid blunder relative to legal matters, I feel a chill. It’s not just a slip of the tongue. It’s a glimpse of what happens when lawmaking is handled by those who do not understand the law. I have never been comfortable with ignorance sitting where expertise should be.
I believe legislation is not a stage performance; it is architecture. A poorly delivered speech can be forgiven, but a poorly crafted statute can haunt a nation for decades. Laws are not slogans. They are intricate instruments that regulate liberty, property, contracts, crime, and the limits of state power. When those entrusted to write them do not grasp constitutional boundaries, statutory construction, or the consequences of a misplaced clause, the damage is not theoretical—it is lived.
Some argue that lawmakers need not be lawyers because they can hire competent legal staff. That sounds practical on paper. But I have seen how fragile that arrangement becomes when cameras are turned on, and urgent issues erupt. When pressed about constitutional limits, jurisdiction, or due process, some non-lawyer legislators falter, oversimplify, or deflect. The problem is not embarrassment; it is influence. Public statements shape public opinion, and careless words from powerful offices can legitimize dangerous ideas.
The law is a jealous discipline. It demands precision. A single word—“shall” instead of “may”—can alter rights and obligations. In debates on emergency powers, anti-terror measures, or cybercrime regulations, misunderstanding the scope of executive authority or the protection of civil liberties is not a minor lapse. It risks expanding the state beyond what the Constitution permits. I find it unsettling when complex constitutional questions are reduced to emotional appeals or applause lines.
History has shown that poorly drafted laws invite litigation and confusion. Courts are forced to interpret vague or contradictory provisions, sometimes striking them down altogether. That wastes public funds and delays justice. It also exposes a deeper weakness: legislation built on a shaky understanding. A legislature should not operate like a workshop, releasing prototypes to the public and fixing them only after damage is done.
There is also a symbolic weight to the title “lawmaker.” The word itself implies mastery. I cannot escape the intuition that those who craft laws should have studied them with rigor—understood their philosophy, their history, their limits. Medicine requires training; engineering requires licensure. Yet in crafting statutes that govern millions, expertise is treated as optional. I struggle with that double standard.
To be fair, not all lawyers make good legislators, and not all non-lawyers are incapable of learning. Some legislators without formal legal education study diligently and surround themselves with competent advisers. Still, I notice that when legal literacy is absent at the core, dependence on advisers becomes absolute. The elected official risks becoming a spokesperson rather than an author of the law. That weakens accountability, because authorship is blurred.
If the country is serious about raising the quality of legislation, then voters must demand higher standards. Political parties can prioritize candidates with legal training or proven mastery of constitutional principles. Civic education should help the public understand why legal competence matters in lawmaking. I remain convinced that a nation that entrusts its laws to those who truly understand them stands on firmer ground—less prone to reckless pronouncements, less vulnerable to sloppy statutes, and far more respectful of the rule of law.
