Much like the hordes of cicadas that spring from the ground in a deafening noise every 10- or 17-years, but with much greater frequency, the bullying and threats from Clean Virginia seem to emerge every three years with uncanny regularity.
What initially started in 2018 as just another political advocacy group asking for a “Grover Norquist-style” pledge quickly became something much more pointed. Clean Virginia jumped into the political funding scene demanding candidates take a “no Dominion money” pledge. Backed by a wealthy, large donor, not grassroots donors, their message was clear: “… sign our pledge, agree not to take any money from Dominion, and in exchange, we’ll give you $5,000.”
(Disclosure: Dominion is one of our donors, but donors have no say in news decisions; see our policy. We offered Clean Virginia an opportunity to respond to this opinion piece; it has indicated will submit a commentary of its own.)
From the outset, the blatant transactional nature of the relationship felt inappropriate. I’d only been a delegate for a “hot minute,” and now I was facing my first moral dilemma — sign the pledge, take Clean Virginia money or risk a future primary challenge. In an attempt to make a Solomon-like decision, I refused to sign the pledge but agreed not to accept Dominion donations.
For those who know me and the integrity I bring to public service — even that small concession made me greatly uncomfortable. I honored my word — not because it was illegal or immoral to accept Dominion’s support, but because I felt coerced. And as we tell our children, “… once you give in to a bully, they’ll be back again…”
In 2021, Clean Virginia’s demands escalated. Due to the pandemic, the General Assembly was fully remote. On February 24, we were preparing to vote on Sen. Lucas’ SB1380, which would create an EV school bus program and a battery storage solution with Dominion. That’s when several delegates, including myself, received a call from Clean Virginia: “We gave you money, and we want you to vote against this bill.”
Wait — what? I was stunned. But I stood by my principles and politely replied, “That’s not how this works. You donated so I could evaluate the facts and make the best possible decision — that’s how representative democracy works.”
Against the wishes of Clean Virginia, I voted in favor of the bill three times over the next three days.
Another three years passed, and — you start to see the pattern — in 2024, I ran for the open 10th Congressional District seat. I entered the race late and had to raise funds the hard way — one call at a time. A few days after losing the primary, Clean Virginia called again.
After the usual pleasantries about how we had run a good campaign, how it’s hard to differentiate yourself in a field of 12 people, came the new, not-so-veiled threat for 2024: “I see from your federal campaign report that you took $1,650 from a Dominion employee. If you ever want our support for the future, you should return the $1,650.”
We had spent the campaign account down to $0 — there was no money left to meet their newest demand. So, after some not-so-fun discussions with my very supportive wife, we wrote a check from our home equity line of credit, deposited it into the Congressional campaign account, and then sent the refund check — not feeling at all happy about being forced to incur unplanned personal debt just to satisfy Clean Virginia’s most recent demand.
Keep in mind, the Dominion employee who donated is a Democrat and made the donation with their personal funds, as is required by Federal campaign election law. Since the U.S. Supreme Court has defined campaign donations as free speech, Clean Virginia was effectively saying that this individual, simply because they worked for Dominion, had forfeited their First Amendment rights.
Now, after nine years of serving in the General Assembly and enduring a new threat every three years, I’ve decided it’s time to move beyond this ethically questionable relationship. I’m reminded of the song from “Pinocchio,“ “I had strings, but now I’m free. There are no strings on me.”
I began the journey as an elected official grounded in the values I learned growing up in the mountains of Virginia and serving 23 years in the Navy Reserves, where the core values of Honor — Courage — Commitment have been instilled in my everyday life.
From this point forward, I will continue to do what I’ve done for the past nine years — advocate for my constituents, work for clean energy, economic development and job growth; reduce the cost of childcare, healthcare and tuition; and provide a better, safer and more honest Virginia for everyone. And I’ll do it knowing I’ve kept my integrity.
Del. David Reid is a Democrat from Loudoun County.
