What would you do if you could be a Public Utility Commissioner for a week? Over seven memorable days from March 16th – March 22nd, 2026, I scored the once in a lifetime opportunity to call the shots as a Public Utility Commissioner.
The assistant to the regional manager who auctioned the one-week term imagined a wealthy utility executive would jump at this chance, but forgot that the utility execs already exercise all the control they desire over this state’s regulators and had no need to flush additional shareholder dollars down the toilet.
State law mandated the PUC file a public notice about the auction, and luckily I’m one of like four people who gets automated RSS feeds from their 1984 website. My winning $0.51 bid was accepted (oops, no minimum!).
At the request of the Governor, I was briefed on everything I needed to know by my fellow commissioners Sunday before starting, from where to find the donut cart to how to let the CEOs in the back door during our closed voting sessions.
Below is my accountability report to the people from my one week term in office.
Monday, March 16th, Day 1 – Learning the Ropes
First things first, I wanted to win over the people. “Dear fellow commissioners,” I boomed from the mic out of turn. “You shall refer to me only as ‘The People’s Commish.’ Under no circumstance shall you look me in the eyes unless you intend to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help your godless souls. Capishe?”
I gathered from their facial expressions something between “Whoa” and “That lefty goober, what the f*&# does he think he’s doing? Paid only fifty-one cents for a one-week term when I had to pay so much more! Although I did buy a 6-year term with unlimited renewals plus the Hilton Head timeshare. Hmmm…..” Not once did any of them look me in the eye during my entire tenure.
Tuesday, March 16th, Day 2 – A Reckoning
I scheduled a show-cause hearing with one utility’s CEO and invited the four-thousand one- hundred eighty-four residents who were found to be wrongfully shut off last winter, some going without power for as many as eight days.
“Mr. ‘Asswipe of the People’” I began, taking a little liberty. “You were quoted in the daily news as saying people should ‘get over it’ when their utility makes a supposedly honest mistake. You offered no compensation to the victims and clearly give two shits about their well-being. We know of at least one person here who was hospitalized after their nebulizer abruptly lost power. What do you have to say for yourself?” He smirked, flashing a row of gold-plated teeth, saying nothing.
“Pie time!” I declared. One by one, a procession of residents proceeded to apply the pies I had purchased with the “Commissioner enrichment fund” to the disgraced face of Mr. Asswipe.
“I hereby declare you morally bankrupt and find you guilty of high crimes before this court!”
A staffer interrupted that this was not technically a court of law nor had the CEO been charged with anything. “Well, the People’s Commissioner says otherwise. Thirty days in solitary!” And I banged the rolling pin I brought from home for effect (since they didn’t provide me with a gavel like the “real” commissioners have).
Wednesday – Friday, March 18th – 20th, Days 3 – 5 – Pick Your Poison, CEOs!
Later in the week, I got greedy. “Dearest CEOs, I’m going to offer you a choice today–it’s either auctioning all the poles and wires or slashing your returns on equity. Which is it?” Three out of the four pooped their pants and had to exit the premises. The last remaining exec whimpered, “Not the ROE! I promised my wife the bonus for our fourth yacht!” And voila–ROEs were slashed from more than 10% to 6.7% in the blink of an eye. It’s not public power–yet–but I hit ‘em where it hurts.
Saturday March 21st – Returning the Commission to the People
Using an emergency powers clause from a forgotten 1926 commission rule, I called a special Saturday session that did not require quorum. I knew the other commissioners and the CEOs would not forgo their coveted tee times to attend. Based on the input from the people who attended, I hereby declare these new policies of the state, effective immediately:
- The Commission hereby establishes uninterrupted access to affordable and clean energy as a universal human right in this state. Utility shutoffs are abolished (for real).
- Each utility shall pay compensation of $100 per hour to the victims of all involuntary shutoffs, retroactive to 2019 (as far as back as this state statute of limitations allows.)
- Should the people decide to establish a public utility, the assets of any IOU shall be made available at 10 cents on the dollar, reflective of utility treatment of its customers and the accumulated public investments they have privatized.
- Until a public acquisition of each investor-owned utility is made, all C-suite executives and board directors shall be available for a public dunk tank on January 1st of each year.
- All Commissioners hereby relinquish their terms, effective immediately. Commission business is suspended, and an immediate 15% reduction of customer bills is instated.
- Beginning in November, Commissioners will be selected by ranked choice election. At least two of the elected commissioners must represent environmental justice or historically marginalized communities. Public funding will be provided for candidates, all forms of monopoly IOU campaign contributions and electoral interference are prohibited.
- Any policies for the good of energy justice that have been inadvertently excluded from this list of policies may be amended through a special voter referendum in November.
Sunday March 21st, Day 7
On the seventh day, the People’s Commish rested. I packed up my rolling pin and a few other personal effects before exiting. Taking one last look at the Commission headquarters on my way home, I saw that the work I had done was good.
