Texas Power Grid Failure: Are Abbott's Appointees Part of the Problem?

On April 7, 2025, Texas Governor Greg Abbott tapped Daniel Bivens and Vanessa Cortez Tanner for the State Employee Charitable Campaign Policy Committee, extending their terms until September 2026. At first glance, it’s a routine move, another cog turning in the vast machinery of state governance. But peel back the layers, and a troubling narrative emerges, one where loyalty and insider ties trump the needs of everyday Texans struggling to keep the lights on or make ends meet.

Bivens, a retired state official with a resume boasting stints at the Office of Public Utility Counsel and the Railroad Commission, seems like a safe pick. Tanner, chief of staff to Representative Brad Buckley after years serving other lawmakers, fits the mold too. Yet, their appointments aren’t just about qualifications; they signal a deeper trend. In a state where the Governor wields outsized influence, handpicking nearly 1,500 appointees over a four-year term, the question looms large: who really benefits from these decisions?

For Texans watching their utility bills soar or scrambling to recover from the 2021 winter storm that left millions in the dark, the answer feels painfully clear. These aren’t appointments designed to shake up a system that too often prioritizes industry over people; they’re a reinforcement of the status quo, a nod to those already comfortable within the halls of power.

Take Bivens’s tenure at the Office of Public Utility Counsel, an agency born in 1983 with a noble mission: to stand up for residential and small business consumers against the might of utility giants. It’s a critical role in a state where electricity demand is skyrocketing, driven by population booms and industrial sprawl. Yet, under leaders like Bivens, and now Benjamin Barkley, reappointed through 2027, the office often feels more like a whisper than a roar.

The Public Utility Commission, which the Counsel advises, has a history of bending toward corporate interests. Since its creation in 1975, it’s weathered scandals over rate hikes and faced lawsuits after the 2021 grid collapse. Advocates for affordable energy argue the system needs fierce, independent voices, not retirees cycling through cushy appointments. Bivens’s past might suggest expertise, but it also hints at coziness with a regulatory framework that’s failed too many Texans.

Contrast this with states like California, where consumer advocacy groups have teeth, pushing back against rate increases with real clout. Texas could learn something there. Instead, appointing insiders like Bivens risks entrenching a cycle where the same players shuffle between roles, leaving families to foot the bill when the grid falters or prices spike.

Then there’s the State Employee Charitable Campaign, a program that’s raised nearly $200 million since 1994, channeling state workers’ generosity into causes from local food banks to global relief. It’s a point of pride, and Tanner’s involvement, with her deep ties to Texas State University’s alumni network, could amplify its reach. The campaign’s efficiency, capping administrative costs at 10%, is laudable too.

But here’s where skepticism creeps in. The Policy Committee, stacked with gubernatorial appointees like Tanner and Bivens, holds sway over which charities get a slice of the pie. With nine members handpicked by top officials, including the Governor, the process invites questions about favoritism. Why not open it up, let state employees themselves have a louder say in where their dollars go? The current setup smells like control masquerading as oversight.

Some might argue it’s just politics, that appointees bring expertise to streamline a complex operation. Fair enough, but when the same names keep popping up, tied to political loyalists or university cliques, it’s hard not to wonder if the system’s rigged to favor the well-connected over the truly deserving.

Texas stands at a crossroads. With Governor Abbott doling out 866 appointments between 2022 and 2024, the pattern is stark: cities like El Paso, home to over 680,000 people, snag just 2% of the slots. Meanwhile, Austin insiders thrive. This isn’t just about Bivens and Tanner; it’s about a governance model that sidelines entire regions and everyday voices in favor of a privileged few.

The solution isn’t rocket science. Broaden the pool, prioritize consumer champions over careerists, and demand transparency in how these roles shape lives. Texans deserve a government that fights for them, not one that recycles the same old players while utility bills climb and charitable dollars flow through a filter of political whims. Until that changes, appointments like these will remain a glaring symptom of a system that’s lost its way.