Some people question whether the separation of powers doctrine contained in the U.S. Constitution and the state of Nevada’s constitution really matters.

(You know separation of powers, right? It’s that line in Article 3, Section 1 of the state constitution that reads: "The powers of the government of the state of Nevada shall be divided into three separate departments — the legislative, the executive and the judicial; and no persons charged with the exercise of powers properly belonging to one of these departments shall exercise any functions, appertaining to either of the others, except in the cases expressly directed or permitted in this constitution.")

Anyway, despite this clear doctrine, somehow Howard Rosenberg, a professor of art at the University of Nevada Reno, manages to serve on the board of regents of the Nevada System of Higher Education. In other words, he exercises the powers of the legislative branch (the board of regents having been created by the Legislature pursuant to the constitution to make policy for the university system) and yet functions in the executive branch, as a university professor, from whence he draws a public salary.

(That also means, for example, he both works for a university president, and decides to hire and fire that very same president.)

But wait! many will proclaim. Doesn’t the concept of a citizen legislature (or board of regents) mean anyone can serve? And doesn’t the system benefit by having diverse perspectives?

In answer to the first, no. The constitution has placed clear limits on who can serve, limits that are ignored thanks to incorrect opinions from the state attorney general and inattention from the state Supreme Court. If the voters wanted to legalize public employees serving in the Legislature, it’s an easy fix: Amend the constitution.

In answer to the second, glad you asked. Because there’s a story today that illustrates precisely what kind of "diversity" you get when you allow the separation of powers doctrine to wither.

It seems the Las Vegas Sun was curious about the outside income earned by university professors. The newspaper asked for the form that requires professors to list their outside sources of income. The university system refused, claiming that by university code, that piece of paper is classified as a "confidential personnel document."

A debate was thus sparked as to whether those documents should be public. (Answer: Of course they should. Under the state’s Open Records Law, NRS 239.010 et. seq., only documents that are "…otherwise declared by law to be confidential…" must be open to public inspection. (emphasis added) That’s law, as in state law, as in the Nevada Revised Statutes. You can stamp "confidential" all over a piece of paper, Dick Cheney-style, to your heart’s content, it doesn’t make it secret unless the Legislature and the governor agree.)

Besides, there are plenty of good reasons for these documents to be public, not least of which is to allow the public to determine if conflicts of interest exist. (Please don’t say the university’s officials will take care of that. It hurts if we fall to the floor of our office laughing.)

It turns out that Chancellor Jim Rogers and many members of the board of regents agree. But there is one notable exception.

You guessed it: Professor/Regent Howard Rosenberg.

"To me, what this promotes is a fishing expedition, and I worry about that," Rosenberg told the Sun. "Why should a public employee be entitled to any more scrutiny than you?"

Why, yes, this whole idea of getting "diversity" into the ranks of our elected officials is working out great. We have those in favor of following the law, and we have those in favor of keeping their fellow employees’ secrets. Bravo, Nevada.

First, the only reason Rosenberg would have to worry about a "fishing expedition" is if there was a problem to be found. (And, quite unlike those uber-patriotic mouth breathers who challenge those of us who stand up against illegal searches and wiretapping with the hackneyed "if you’ve done nothing wrong, you’ve got nothing to hide!", in this case, the public is entitled to that information by law.)

Second, to answer Rosenberg’s question, public employees are subject to more scrutiny because they are public employees. A job working for the taxpayers is a public trust, and in accepting that trust, you give up certain benefits that a private sector employee might have, such as the ability to keep one’s salary confidential. (Ironically, Rosenberg asked this question of a journalist; members of this profession are bound by ethics to disclose publicly any conflicts of interest they may have when they write stories, because journalism, too, is a public trust.)

Third, Rosenberg’s conflict of interest here is manifest. He’s a professor, who is subject to filling out this form. His colleagues are also subject to the requirement. It’s understandable that he sees this through the lens of an employee of the system, rather than as a policymaker bound to follow the course of the greater good.

And that’s precisely why the separation of powers is such a good idea, and why it’s endured for so many centuries. And that’s also precisely why we imperil ourselves when we let it slip, allowing the people who function in one branch of government to rule in another. It’s not that they are unworthy to serve in both; it’s that they cannot do both jobs and be faithful to each. "No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other," the Gospel says.

It’s a well-recognized principle in governing, too. Or at least it should be.

» Much has been made of former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney’s Mormon faith, and that’s only going to increase as word of his sometimes-testy exchanges with interruption-prone Iowa radio talk show host Jan Mickelson makes the YouTube rounds. (Thanks to our colleague Hugh Jackson for providing the link over at the Las Vegas Gleaner, where’s he’s penned a pretty funny commentary on the subject.)

While we were amused to hear about another quirky Mormon tenet — Jesus Christ will apparently split his time during a 1,000-year rule of Earth between Jerusalem and Missouri — we were more impressed with poor Romney’s struggles to promise that he wasn’t trying to force his faith on other people.

Dare we say it? Romney was right when he said that he was running for president, a "secular office," as he called it, and that he was not running to impose his Mormon beliefs on others. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints teaches that members should not consume alcohol, he said, yet he didn’t try to ban booze in Boston. (Good luck with that one!)

We at Various Things & Stuff totally agree with that: A person’s faith is a matter of private conviction, but when one assumes a "secular office," one must be the leader for all the people. For that, the Enlightenment provides a more solid road map than the rather brutal moral codes of, say, Leviticus.

So why, then, did the "effectively pro-choice" Romney decide to impose the moral belief that women should not have the right to have an abortion on his state? And did he not imperil his immortal soul by previously having a contrary view? (Mormon doctrine preaches in fairly clear terms against abortion). If Romney was unwilling to impose the church’s alcohol ban on "gentiles," (that’s what Mormons call non-Mormons, by the way), then why was he willing to impose the church’s ban on abortion on non-believers?

Romney argues it was when he took a hard look at life-and-death bills that came to his desk in Boston that he was convinced that he should be pro-life. (We assume none of those life-and-death issues involved the "life" rather than the "death" of a presidential campaign.) But fine, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and conclude that his conversion to being pro-life had nothing to do with religion at all.

At the end of the day, he’s still wrong. But we can appreciate the fact that Romney has embraced what the annoying Mickelson and millions of others have not: Religion has an important place in public life, but that place is not the White House, Congress or the Supreme Court.

» We’re glad western governors are declaring war on cheatgrass. But our real reason for mentioning it was so that we could link to this funny photograph of our own Gov. Jim Gibbons, who appears to have rolled and smoked some cheatgrass before this meeting. He even stole Idaho Gov. C.L. "Butch" Otter’s nametag!

Wouldn’t it be cool if our governor had a neat nickname? You know, instead of all the nicknames that people have for him now? (Got a good nickname for the governor? Send it to us at: SSebelius@lvcitylife.com. We may publish your entry in the future!)

Oh, speaking of Gibbons, he apparently got his Official Jack Bauer End of the World As We Know It Command Center up in Carson City. Now all he needs is his Official Commander In Chief firefighter’s hat and he’s in business! Cost to taxpayers for this redundant new toy that was one of Gibbons’ top legislative priorities? $1.2 million total, assuming the Interim Finance Committee approves $651,000 to match a federal grant for $605,000.

And who cares if these things aren’t really effective? They’re cool!

» Hey, wasn’t there a guy named John Solomon who worked for the Associated Press who was always dogging U.S. Sen. Harry Reid? That’s right, there was. Now, it appears he’s found a brand new target at his new job working for the Washington Post: Presidential candidate John Edwards. Alternet reports.

» What’s worse than buying a building for twice what it cost to build? Leasing it for four times what it cost to build. Only in Clark County.