Submitted for your consideration, a handful of under-the-radar bills that bear watching this legislative session.
The first, House Bill 1513, addresses the potential for corruption of the political system. For further corruption, I should say, given the already fetid state of affairs.
But yes, it could get worse: Imagine the use of artificial intelligence to produce misleading “deepfake” political ads depicting candidates saying things that they never actually said or doing things they never actually did.
I’ve seen exactly that sort of thing in a different context: Showing an athlete or coach at a postgame news conference verbally ripping into the other team, the other team’s coach or even teammates for supposed breaches of sportsmanship or other transgressions.
They look authentic – none of that six fingers on a hand stuff or blurring around the mouth that gives some deepfakes away. The only real giveaway that they’re phony is the fact that athletes and coaches seldom say anything nearly as controversial – or interesting or funny – as the deepfakes purport.
HB 1513, sponsored by Rep. Jason Zachary, would address the possibility of deepfakes in the political realm by requiring what amounts to warning labels announcing the deception at the beginning and the end of the ads.
An ad with bogus video and audio, for instance, would be required to state this: “This communication contains fake content depicting actions and speech that did not occur.”
I wondered at first about the approach. Why not just ban deepfake political ads altogether? The only thing I could figure is that a ban would somehow run afoul of free speech protections. Garden-variety lies are not against the law, after all. If they were, we’d pretty much all be behind bars.
I hope Zachary’s bill, and/or its Senate companion by Sen. Becky Massey, gets a committee hearing. I’d like to hear the objections, if any. And there almost always are.
The second measure renews the COVID debate, which some legislators just cannot let go. Senate Bill 1949 would “designate mRNA injections and products as weapons of mass destruction and to prohibit possession or distribution of mRNA injections and products in this state.”
Veteran observers of the legislative COVID battles will not be surprised to learn that the sponsor is Sen. Janice Bowling, a champion of the Ivermectin-and-hydroxychloroquine school of quack COVID treatment and a dedicated opponent of the mRNA – short for Messenger ribonucleic acid – COVID shots.
Now she wants to ban the kind of treatment estimated to have saved millions of lives. I will remind you that, among Bowling’s previous legislative utterances from several years back, was her concern that schools were “allowing children who identify as snakes, cats, whatever,” or so-called furries. “They’re providing litter boxes for the cats. And obviously it’s very disruptive to the learning process.”
Bowling, bless her heart, lives in a different reality.
Among the more puzzling measures I’ve come across is House Bill 1877, by Rep. Greg Martin. It seeks to prohibit any government entity or business from “requiring implantation of a microchip or other permanent identification marker as a condition to receive benefits or services, or participate in assistance programs.”
I’ve watched a fair number of sci-fi TV shows and movies that involve implanted microchips, for one purpose or another. Most prominent is “Severance,” in which the chips help separate the “innie” and “outie” consciousness for workers at the mysterious Lumon Industries. The result is both deeply troubling and highly entertaining.
And, of course, my rescue cats, Chai and Mai, came pre-equipped with chips to help identify them, if lost. But does this bill address any real threat of it happening to people?
An intriguing bit of language in the measure refers to people licensed for insurance sales or bail bonds, specifically barring them from requiring “another individual to be implanted with a microchip or other permanent identification marker.”
Would be handy for tracking deadbeats, I suppose.
Lastly, in 2024 a bill to designate the imperiled bog turtle as an official state reptile sailed through the Senate with nary a dissenting voice. But the House companion died in committee without a whimper.
Anti-bog turtle bias among House members? I suspect it had more to do with the House bill’s sponsor, the once-expelled Rep. Justin Jones. The bills are back this session, with the same sponsors.
What’s that word for doing the same thing and expecting a different result?
Joe Rogers is a former writer for The Tennessean and editor for The New York Times. He is retired and living in Nashville.