Why Guam cannot afford a part‑time legislature—not now, not like this

By Joseph Arriola

There is a persistent fantasy circulating in Guam’s political bloodstream: the idea that we can “save money” and “increase efficiency” by converting the legislature into a part‑time body.

It is an attractive slogan, especially for those who believe government is bloated, lazy or overpaid. But slogans are not structures, and governance is not a hobby. The hard truth is this: a part‑time legislature only works in jurisdictions where the rest of government is full‑time, competent, disciplined and structurally reliable. Guam is not operating in that environment. Not yet.

A part‑time legislature assumes that the executive branch can function independently, consistently and lawfully without constant legislative oversight. That assumption collapses immediately under Guam’s reality. Our agencies routinely miss statutory deadlines, ignore mandates until hearings force compliance. Institutional memory evaporates every election cycle. Internal controls exist on paper but rarely in practice. In this environment, legislative oversight is not a luxury—it is the only functioning control mechanism we have left.

Procurement alone makes the case. Guam’s procurement system is slow, fragile and vulnerable to exceptions, waivers and workarounds —four letters come to mind.

SSHS protests are common, compliance is inconsistent and agencies often rely on legislative intervention to force movement. A part‑time legislature means fewer hearings, fewer investigations and fewer interventions. It means more room for procurement failures to metastasize. States with part‑time legislatures have procurement systems that run on rails. Guam’s runs on hope and improvisation.

Proponents argue that a part‑time legislature will save money. That is structurally false. The workload of governing does not shrink; it shifts. To maintain even a baseline level of legislative function, Guam would need full‑time attorneys, policy analysts, procurement specialists, budget analysts, and contracted consultants. These positions cost far more than the salaries of elected senators. Consultants alone bill $150 to $350 an hour. States like Texas and Idaho can afford that. Guam cannot. A part‑time legislature becomes a full‑time expense.

The deeper issue is that Guam’s government does not possess the internal controls necessary to operate without legislative pressure. Internal audits are late or incomplete. Corrective actions are rarely implemented. Directors often rely on legislative hearings to force their own agencies to act. Compliance is reactive, not proactive. A part‑time legislature removes the only external force that keeps agencies aligned with the law.

And let us be honest about the workload. Guam’s legislature handles annual budgets, supplemental budgets, federal compliance, procurement oversight, emergency legislation, public safety crises, healthcare system failures and the chronic instability of our education system. This is not a part‑time workload. It is a full‑time triage center.

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A part‑time Legislature in a full‑time dysfunctional system is a structural mismatch. Until the executive branch and its agencies operate the way they are supposed to, reducing the legislature’s capacity is not reform—it is a downgrade. Guam deserves better than slogans. It deserves a government that works.

Perhaps one day—when our agencies operate as the law requires, when procurement follows discipline instead of improvisation, when internal controls finally control something—then a part‑time legislature is feasible. But until we get our house in order, pretending we’re ready for one isn’t reform; it’s self‑inflicted failure.

And let’s be clear: the proponents of a part‑time legislature are giving you the version that sounds good, not the version that reflects the reality we live in. Guam didn’t stumble into this situation by accident. We built it—layer by layer, administration by administration—over 56 years of electing our own governor since 1970. The system we have today is the system we allowed to grow.

Joseph B.D. Arriola is a resident of Dededo.

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