Elected Officials Owe it to Citizens to Hold In-Person Town Hall Meetings
Let me tell you about Jack Fields, a rock-ribbed conservative congressman I knew back in Texas more than three decades ago.
Fields was so well known for hosting constituent gatherings in rural areas and small towns like Tomball, Texas, that his district sometimes seemed to operate as a continuous public forum.
Voters could ask Fields any question in public, and he would answer — sometimes patiently, sometimes uncomfortably, but always directly, neither evading nor spinning.
And he would listen to us — and consider what we had to say.
As a college student, I rarely agreed with Fields, who served eight terms (1981 to 1997), but I appreciated his willingness to hold a few dozen open town hall meetings every year where anyone could challenge him directly about his votes.
What brings Fields to mind is the recent Sunshine Week, an annual celebration in March of openness in government. It’s usually associated with access to public records and open meetings.
But transparency is about more than documents on a website.
It also depends on whether elected officials are willing to meet constituents face to face, listen, and answer questions about their decisions.
In South Carolina, that kind of direct engagement has become increasingly rare.
Members of the state’s congressional delegation prefer carefully managed communication: social media posts, interviews with partisan media outlets, text messages, direct mail, TV commercials, and scripted photo-ops with friendly audiences.
The aim for politicians: control the narrative, expand their power, escape accountability.
Constituents have fewer opportunities to engage directly with their representatives or hold them accountable for policy decisions that affect their daily lives.
Politicians, for their part, spend too much time pontificating on Facebook and not enough time listening to folks at the Anderson Waffle House.
My own Upstate congresswoman, Sheri Biggs, has held only a few tightly controlled telephone town halls, despite repeated calls for open, in-person meetings.
Technology has vastly increased the reach of politicians while insulating them from unscripted questions or critical challenges.
Politicians use technology to create a safe space for themselves and a barrier to keep constituents at bay.
But democracy is meant to be uncomfortable for those in power. If politicians can’t publicly defend their votes before their own constituents, maybe they need to rethink their votes.
With Washington at war and often in chaos, we need our members of Congress to meet with South Carolinians back in their districts more than ever.
We need to see that reasonable, solid, sober-minded people are making decisions on our behalf.
If they met with us, they’d get an earful about the war, health care, infrastructure, gun crime, the rising cost of gas, groceries, insurance, utilities, and dozens of other topics South Carolinians desperately want to discuss with the people who represent them.
That disconnect has consequences.
Ignoring the boss
It’s worth remembering that in a constitutional republic, the people are sovereign and members of Congress are the people’s employees. Imagine in the private sector a front-line employee who resolutely refuses to respond to his boss.
No wonder South Carolinians are frustrated and furious. Look at the Facebook page of any member of the state’s congressional delegation and what you’ll see is South Carolinians shouting at their representatives.
South Carolinians don’t believe their representatives are listening. In an era shaped by screens, algorithms and artificial intelligence, voters crave direct human engagement — not as a courtesy, but as a basic form of accountability.
The contrast with Jack Fields’ era could not be more dramatic.
Open town halls were once a regular part of congressional life, allowing voters to question policies, discuss local concerns, and demand explanations.
These forums, held in school auditoriums, libraries, and community centers, were not always comfortable for officials — and that was exactly the point.
I remember Lindsey Graham, as the 3rd District congressman in the late 1990s, holding regular town halls in school auditoriums with only a handful of people in attendance. As a senator, though, his public appearances have shifted largely to television.
Today, the reliance on digital and controlled communication channels has eroded the town-hall tradition, making unscripted public dialogue the exception rather than the rule.
Sunshine Week, recognized March 15-21, reminds us that democracy works best in the open.
That means access to records, transparency in public meetings, and — just as important — opportunities for citizens to confront elected officials directly.
Without face-to-face engagement, transparency is incomplete.
Thirty years ago, in Jack’s town hall meetings in Tomball, I remember feeling like the working-class man in Norman Rockwell’s “Freedom of Speech” painting — standing up, being heard, part of something larger than myself.
We need to return to that ideal. Because if you don’t have a seat at the table, you’re on the menu.
Paul Hyde is a longtime journalist and teacher in the Upstate. He worked 18 years for the Greenville News as a columnist, editorial writer, education reporter and arts writer. He holds undergraduate and graduate degrees from Clemson and Harvard universities.
