If Albany Doesn’t Show Up, New Yorkers Pay the Price

By Marc Molinaro | April 5, 2026


April 1 used to be a deadline.

Now it’s something Albany misses—and hopes nobody notices. 

But New Yorkers notice the consequences: higher costs, late decisions, and a government that feels increasingly disconnected from the people it serves. A recent Marist Poll found that nearly one in three New Yorkers is considering leaving the state—a warning sign that confidence in the direction of our state has eroded.

That wasn’t always the case.

Not long ago, Albany faced a reckoning. The public lost trust. Too many decisions were made behind closed doors. And there were real concerns about whether elected officials were fully present—literally and figuratively—while collecting taxpayer-funded salaries and per diem payments intended for work performed in Albany.

That concern helped drive reform.

Beginning in 2007, and reinforced in the years that followed, the Legislature moved to restore a basic standard of democratic accountability. The New York State Assembly, like the Senate, emphasized transparency: recorded votes, more open debate, and a clear expectation that lawmakers would be present on the floor to participate and cast votes on behalf of their constituents. 

It wasn’t revolutionary. It was fundamental.

If you’re elected to represent people, you should show up—do the job in public view, and be accountable for every decision.

For a time, that standard held. 

There was a renewed commitment—however imperfect—to doing the people’s business on time. Budgets came together with greater predictability. The April 1 deadline wasn’t just a date on the calendar; it was a test of whether government was functioning. 

Today, that standard is gone.

Budgets are again negotiated behind closed doors. Massive bills appear at the last minute. And practices that became routine during COVID—remote participation, procedural shortcuts, and reduced transparency—have lingered far beyond the emergency. Like many measures at the time, they have outlived their purpose and, in doing so, have weakened the very accountability they were meant to preserve.

The expectation that lawmakers must be fully present—engaged in debate and accountable in real time—has been abandoned in the Assembly. And the April 1 deadline has become more suggestion than standard—missed without urgency, explanation, or consequence.

That shift may be convenient. It is not harmless.

When lawmakers are physically present, there is no substitute for the accountability that comes with it. You can see who is engaged. You can watch debate unfold. You can witness decisions being made in real time.

When that presence disappears, so does something more important than procedure.

Transparency becomes optional. Accountability becomes diluted. And the same concerns that once fueled reform—about whether elected officials are truly doing the work they are paid to do—begin to resurface.

The consequences are real. When no one is required to fully show up, deadlines slip. Discipline fades. And New Yorkers are left waiting—again—for decisions that affect their families, their businesses, and their future.

That is not progress. It is regression.

But this is not irreversible.

New York doesn’t need more rules—it needs to follow the ones it has, and strengthen the ones that matter most: require in-person voting for final passage of legislation, enforce meaningful bill aging so the public can actually review what’s being passed, and require real fiscal impact statements for every proposal—showing the cost not just this year, but over time, and who ultimately pays, from state taxpayers to local property owners and renters. 

The reforms we adopted were not perfect. But they recognized a simple truth: the legitimacy of government depends on outcomes and process—and whether the public can see it, trust it, and believe in it.

New Yorkers do not expect perfection. But they do expect presence. They expect effort. They expect accountability. 

And they deserve a government that shows up. 

Democracy doesn’t disappear overnight.

It fades—when leaders stop showing up, and people stop expecting more.

 

Marc Molinaro, candidate for New York’s 102nd Assembly District