BOISE — A global pandemic that has people running for the hills seems like a perfect metaphor for the 2020 legislative session.

Given the sustained attack this year on certain segments of society, it’s easy to view the Statehouse as a hotbed of disease, pumping out viral intolerance to communities across the state.

The amount of time spent on anti-transgender, anti-Affirmative Action and abortion-related bills has been so extreme, major employers took the extraordinary step of warning lawmakers that they’re tarnishing Idaho’s image.

In a March 2 letter first reported by Nathan Brown of the Idaho Falls Post Register, Chobani, Clif Bar, HP and Micron told Senate State Affairs Chairwoman Patti Anne Lodge, R-Huston, that it was “a privilege and honor to be ambassadors for the state in our daily interactions with customers.”

“We proudly talk about (Idaho’s) strong and growing economy and how it’s one of the best places in the nation to do business and live,” they continued. “Most important, we talk about the welcoming, big-hearted spirit of its people. This is a well-earned reputation, (but) these bills targeting transgender Idahoans put that reputation at risk. Passage of these bills ... could damage Idaho’s ability to attract new businesses and create new jobs.”

In essence, the employers were saying the Legislature should self-isolate, as it’s threatening to infect the entire state.

Their recommendation fell on deaf ears, though, as many of the bills passed on near-party-line votes.

But like all good metaphors, this one cuts both ways.

Much as we may criticize the Republican majority for going along with these far-right proposals, the COVID-19 crisis also demonstrates the dangers of leadership that can’t or won’t say no.

Imagine that the Idaho Legislature isn’t the disease vector, but the rest of the country. Imagine it’s Idaho that’s under assault, the lone life raft in a sea of liberal permissiveness.

In this view, these 105 often-frustrating, stubbornly old-fashioned lawmakers are all that stands between Idaho and a flood of dangerous ideas — everything from recreational drugs to nanny state politics, Medicaid-for-all and other socialist wealth redistribution schemes.

And they’re serious in their desire to protect us. They are the finger in the dike.

“Hopefully we can go forward and show our acceptance — but some things just aren’t acceptable,” noted Senate President Pro Tem Brent Hill, R-Rexburg, during a recent Idaho Press Club luncheon.

The comment was in reference to one of the anti-transgender bills, but it’s the single most insightful comment I’ve heard regarding the mindset of the Idaho Legislature: Whether Republican or Democrat, they see themselves as defenders, as arbiters of what society should and shouldn’t allow.

And some things just aren’t acceptable.

The most emotional debates here frequently involve where that line is drawn — who gets a place in the life raft, and who’s left to fend for themselves. Who’s included, who’s excluded.

Idaho Democrats tend to be more inclusive. They’re happy to find space in the raft for most anyone — and they’ll reach into your pocket to pay for the space.

Republicans are more discriminating. Let too many in the raft and it begins to sink. That’s not sustainable. Yet their fiscal policies often seem to favor big corporations and the well-to-do, while disadvantaging the poor. One could wish, as well, that they were more welcoming to those who don’t think like them, look like them, pray like them.

Whatever the political dynamics, though, the one constant is that these lawmakers try to craft the best future for the state as possible. Some have a very narrow view on who deserves help, but most are trying to do right by their neighbors and community, when they’d really rather be tucked safely away at home.

Spence covers politics for the Tribune. He may be contacted at bspence@lmtribune.com or (208) 791-9168.