I realize there’s a “Day” for just about everything, just as the Catholics have a stunning collection of patron saints. But fact-checking? Now there’s a party. For those wishing to celebrate IFCD, it’s on April 2. You’ve got plenty of time for venue-shopping and caterer-hiring.

Anyway, in my post about the filing deadline, I offhandedly remarked on the difficulty of moving from President Pro Tem or Speaker to the governor’s office. Lately, every single House or Senate leader has been included on everyone’s short list for governor but none of ’em have gotten a sniff of the corner office. The soon-to-be-dearly-departed Phil Baruth and Jill Krowinski were once widely seen as chief executive timber; not now, and probably not ever again.

I stand by my comments about the political difficulties of leading a legislative majority: You’re responsible for herding the cats and engaging in The Art of the Possible, not establishing a strong personal image or agenda. Every Pro Tem and Speaker acquires baggage, often at a rapid clip. That’s why the longest-serving leader in Vermont history, Ralph Wright, managed “only” 10 years in the job. (In his memoir, he acknowledges that his power was pretty much gone by his final term.) Most leaders hit their sell-by dates after two or three terms. Many (including Wright himself) get 86’ed by their home voters, presumably for seeming too removed from their district’s interests.

Just to be clear, I’m talking about Speakers and Pro Tems advancing directly to the governorship. It rarely happens despite the high profile those offices confer. (House or Senate majority leaders, occupying the #2 post in each chamber, have been more successful, perhaps because they enjoy the advantages of networking and favor-trading without the burdens of being the leader.) But I’ve gotten some pushback from diligent readers who cited exceptions, so it seemed worthwhile to take a closer look at the question.

The clearest counter-example was Peter Shumlin, who went directly from Pro Tem to governor. I should have thought of him myself. I do see him as a genuine exception to the pattern.

And I’ll give you another. F. Ray Keyser went straight from Speaker to governor, but that was back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. If you have to go back 65 years to find two examples, you’re a little short on evidence.

Many others have been suggested, but none besides Shumlin fit my admittedly narrow criteria. One reader suggested lieutenant governors, who are technically “leaders” of the Senate. Recent governors who used the ol’ bucket of warm piss as a springboard (ew) include Phil Scott, Howard Dean, and Madeleine Kunin. But LGs do little besides wield the gavel. They don’t run the show, and they sure don’t have to manage caucuses. It’s the ideal spot: High political profile, lots of free time, none of the obstacles or pitfalls of actual leadership. As for the others…

• Jim Douglas. He was House majority leader and later became governor, BUT. He wasn’t Speaker, and there was a lengthy interregnum in which Douglas established himself as a statewide figure. He left the House in 1979 and didn’t become governor until 23 years later. Those intervening years included six terms as secretary of state and four terms as treasurer. His time in House leadership is the least impactful line on his C.V.
• Howard Dean. He was assistant House majority leader for two years and then won the lieutenant governorship. Early in his third term, Gov. Dick Snelling died in office and Dean succeeded him. Dean doesn’t qualify because (1) he was only #3 in the House caucus, (2) he didn’t advance directly to the corner office, and (3) he became governor due to the death of the incumbent, not because he won an election. He did, of course, go on to enjoy the longest tenure of any Vermont governor (a record now imperiled by Phil Scott). But his springboard to the top office was LG, not AHML.
• Madeleine Kunin. She was House minority whip, a far cry from Speaker, and she was then lieutenant governor for four years before becoming the first and only woman to reach the top floor. Her time wielding the gavel was what got her to the governorship, not being the #4 member of a minority caucus team.
• Dick Snelling the First. He went straight from House majority leader to the governorship in 1977. That’s pretty close but he wasn’t Speaker, he was second in command. And before that, he had run twice for statewide office — once for LG and once for governor. That gave him a significant political profile in the days when losing a statewide race was an advantage, not an albatross.
• Thomas Salmon. He served one term as House minority leader before mounting an unsuccessful campaign for attorney general. Two years later he won the governorship in what Wikipedia calls “an upset victory,” and served two terms before losing a bid for U.S. Senate. Close, but no cigar; he led a minority caucus, not a majority. That’s like sitting in the balcony and tossing Jujubes at the stage.

One reader also identified Becca Balint, Peter Welch, and George Aiken as having been Speaker or Pro Tem and advancing to statewide victory, but they were running for Congress, not governor.

You may disagree with how I sliced the bologna, but I’m the one behind the meat counter. I gave a clear rationale for my definition. And by my definition, Shumlni and Keyser are the only exceptions to my rule. Within most of ours’ living memory.

My point was narrow because it fit the circumstances. Not too long ago, Baruth and Krowinski were considered top-shelf potential candidates for governor, right alongside Treasurer Mike Pieciak and Attorney General Charity Clark. Now, they’re going into self-imposed exile. They’re both young enough to make a comeback, but so were Shap Smith and Mitzi Johnson — and we’re still waiting for those worthies to mount a comeback.

A couple of readers made a different, broader, and valid point: Some legislative experience is almost a prerequisite for serving as governor, and some leadership experience is a plus. The last governor who had not previously served in the Legislature was Deane Davis, and that was a lifetime ago for most of us. Not the best of omens for this year’s Democratic hopefuls Aly Richards and Amanda Janoo.

So that’s my way-too-detailed explanation of a semi-serious aside. But hey, that’s what you get when you poke the political nerd.