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Indiana’s government prides itself on doing more with less. Republicans, who campaign on trimming budgets and shrinking bureaucracy, hold supermajorities in both General Assembly chambers. Under their leadership, the state has earned a reputation as a stronghold of small-government conservatism. Yet Indiana maintains a largely redundant legislative chamber. If conservative Hoosiers believe government should be no larger than it needs to be, they should be the first to oppose the state senate.
Until the 17th Amendment’s 1913 ratification, state legislatures rather than citizens elected U.S. senators; the idea being U.S. representatives embodied the people’s will, while senators stood for the states’. The change was a major step toward democratizing Congress, but it undermined the Senate’s original purpose.
Since 1913, senators have represented a state’s citizenry rather than the state government. As a result, senators answer to the statewide population, while representatives answer to the voters of a single district. Even if the Senate’s equal representation of states is undemocratic, it still balances state interests against the population-weighted House; but the system only works because state borders are fixed.
State senates have no such fixed unit. Their districts are redrawn every decade, just like state house districts. The only difference is size. In Indiana, the House has 100 members and the Senate has 50, so each senate district is about twice the size of a house district.
This reason is why some states used to mimic Congress, electing one chamber based on population and the other on geography. State senators would represent a county or group of counties, often giving some voters more political power than others. Then, in 1964, Reynolds v. Sims rejected the use of geography for state legislatures and required every district to be of roughly equal population.
Now state senators and state representatives are elected in the same way by the same voters. If the second chamber serves the same purpose as the first, a split between them cannot reflect two different publics, it only creates confusion. When voters have clearly favored one party, divided control muddles that mandate.
In states with two legislative chambers, every new law must pass in both. Separate sets of leaders, committees and calendars must align. Disagreement within the legislature can delay or kill an impactful bill. Separate chambers can increase the risk of divided government — when legislative and gubernatorial control is split between parties. But a second chamber adds another way for government to split: the chambers can fall to different parties, or to different factions of the same one.
Indiana saw this last December. The House passed a mid-decade congressional map on a 57-41 vote, with 12 Republicans opposed. The Senate rejected it 31-19, with 21 Republicans joining all 10 Democrats. Even with a Republican supermajority, one-party control still produced a standoff between the chambers.
Defenders of bicameralism, the idea that legislatures should have two chambers, say friction is the point. But friction requires disagreement, a rare event in a supermajority. The National Conference of State Legislatures counts just four divided legislatures among 49 bicameral states, low by historical standards. When one party holds both chambers, as Republicans do in Indiana, the second usually has little reason to resist the first.
Redistricting was Indiana’s rare exception, but it proved fragile. In May, five Republican senators who voted against the map lost their primaries to Trump-endorsed challengers, showing how the Senate cannot check the House when both answer to the same voters. If the chambers agree, the second is redundant. If they disagree, voters will settle it at the next primary.
Bicameralism’s proponents also argue that distance from the next election is the point. A second, senior body with longer terms is said to protect minorities by steadying the legislature against “mob rule.” But one chamber can check itself: Nebraska, the country’s only unicameral legislature, requires 33 of 49 votes to end a filibuster, so a bare majority cannot simply steamroll the minority.
Nebraska voters approved a single chamber in 1934, and it first met in 1937. Its champion, Sen. George Norris, successfully argued that Nebraska’s house and senate shifted blame between each other and allowed political partisans to control committees. After the change, membership fell from 133 to 43, and the first unicameral session cost about half as much as the last bicameral one.
Nebraska encourages party independence to this day. Candidates appear on the ballot without a party label, and the top two finishers in the primary advance to the general election regardless of party. Once elected, legislators operate without formal party caucuses, or party-based seating, and they choose both Speaker and committee chairs by secret ballot. Without a party line to follow, legislators build coalitions around regional interests or individual bills.
The results show in the state’s beneficial policymaking. In April 2026, Nebraska enacted LB966, which will make reduced-price school lunches free for qualifying students throughout a five-year pilot. In 2023, the House Republican Study Committee proposed cutting federal funding for similar programs. Despite a nominal Republican supermajority, Nebraska’s legislature went the other way.
Republicans have held a trifecta in Indiana since 2011, with supermajorities in both chambers, yet the state maintains a redundant legislature. Nebraska made the leaner choice in 1934 and still runs on one chamber. Indiana, by its own principles, should ask why it needs two.
Spencer Robinson (he/him) is a junior studying public policy analysis and law and public policy. His commentary can also be found on his Substack.
