Missouri Gov. Nixon doesn't use public email address, text or any electronic communication

The governor of Missouri does not use electronic communication to discuss public business.

Well, unless you count the two random emails he sent in 2014 or if you count his Twitter account.

Neither does the governor use text messages.

He and his staff don't use any kind of chat or instant messaging system.

Gov. Jay Nixon likes to talk. In meetings. Out of public view, and in ways neither the probing media nor his political foes can access his motives.

It's easy to guess why. Before Nixon took office as governor in 2009, he was involved tangentially in an email scandal, but not of his own making.

The scandal revealed that the previous administration's chief of staff was conducting political attacks against Nixon while he was on the clock for the state, and deleting emails rather than retaining them for public review. Later, it was revealed that a whistleblower was fired, though the GOP claimed at the time it was for personal reasons, which were reported to have been accessed by hacking the whistleblower's private email. It's a long story, but it got ugly and there was considerable fallout.

It is very safe to say that Nixon knows well that emails are public record.

Late last year, the Southeast Missourian issued a records request for all communications involving the pending shutdown and eventual privatization of the Cottonwood Residential Treatment Center in Cape Girardeau. Cottonwood is and was a last-resort place for children with severe mental health issues to get round-the-clock care. These are/were children and families in dire situations, youngsters who may have had violent tendencies toward themselves and others.

Oh, how "transparent" the governor's office was! The office sent us several thousands of pages of email exchanges. When stacked, they were about 2 feet high. Among the emails were all correspondences involving Cottonwood. The largest bulk of the pile consisted of press clippings that were shared with staffers. The officials in Jefferson City clearly care a great deal about what the media are saying about them.

But we found something very strange about the materials we received. Of the giant stack, not one email was sent to or from the governor. The purpose of our request was to find out what led to the Cottonwood decision. Sure, we understand the governor was reacting to Republicans' tax cut bill. But how did the governor weigh the options? What discussions did he have with officials from the state's Department of Mental Health? Who had a say in this decision and how seriously was it taken? Did he review Rep. Kathy Swan's proposal to save the facility? If so, why did he not adopt it?

In the spirit of "Sunshine Week" (a week that media organizations celebrate and advocate transparency in government), I sent an email asking the governor's office a few questions about how the governor's office communicates. After a few delays from the office, I received answers to some questions a week later. This is what I've learned so far:

• The governor does have a state-issued email address. In 2014 he sent only two emails, both containing a link to a list of schools on the website of the Department of Secondary Education.
• "The governor does use electronic media to communicate to the public such as through Twitter and his website," wrote a communications staffer from Nixon's office, "but he does not use chat, text or private email to conduct official business." (His most famous tweet was a rather embarrassing picture last year of the governor voting at a booth next to a woman whose pants had slipped down, partially exposing her buttocks.)
• The governor's office has no written policy on how it uses email, though, according to Nixon's press secretary, the governor's staff follows "statewide policy that email sent from a state computer is to be used for official purposes only."
• Staff in the governor's office communicate in meetings, by telephone and by email. Some may text each other occasionally, but they do not use a chat system.

But everyone at the governor's office, except the governor, apparently uses email.

Of the big fat stack of records we received, what's missing is as interesting as what's actually there.

Not only did the governor refrain from joining the email exchanges, his staffers seemed very careful in how they used the medium. You'll not find one opinion shared in the exchanges.

Everything is very matter-of-fact, and highly professional. But there is no relaying of wishes from the governor. No email that says, "I talked to the governor. He feels strongly that we should do this ..."

The governor's office uses emails to share documents, including news releases, data and talking points. If you're looking for motives, you'll not find them.

I don't know about you, but I live in a world where digital communication is very important. I communicate with my staff via email many times a day. Sometimes I communicate with reporters and photographers via text when they are out covering a story. I receive text alerts that tell me about news and the weather, or when certain things are posted to Twitter or Facebook. We use our phones to take photos and video. We use them to check our company's Facebook feed.

Yet the governor apparently finds no use for any of this technology to run the state of Missouri.

I'm left with only two reasonable conclusions. One is that the top executive in the state is technologically impotent, which isn't necessarily something you would desire in a leader in 2015 -- or his communication style is systematic and purposeful. And the only reason for an executive officer in 2015 to limit digital communication is so that he can conduct the public's business out of the public's view.

I admit that if I knew my emails were subject to public view, I would be more careful with what I wrote, especially knowing there would no doubt be a Republican out there looking to twist and distort the context of my words.

Still, Nixon has deservedly earned a reputation of a say-nothing governor. Even when the governor speaks, he rarely says anything. He almost always rides the fence, stays out of the limelight except to hold news conferences in which he can take credit for something. When it comes to tough decisions, the communication is scripted and void of detail. Ferguson is a prime example.

It's very possible that the governor scoured the various ways to cut spending in other areas in order to try to save Cottonwood. He may have really wanted to save that place, keep employees on the payroll with good benefits. Maybe he implored the department of mental health to do everything within its power to save the facility, especially after some of his vetoes withstood overrides and he could claim several political victories.

Maybe the governor was moved by the many messages, sent digitally, that reached his office asking to restore the funding to Cottonwood. He might have cared about those children. Maybe it was he who brainstormed a private solution and directed his staff to that middle-ground solution.

Or he might have wanted to stick it to Southeast Missouri, a Republican-controlled region of the state whose politicians are frequently vocal about pushing policies at odds with the governor.

Or he might not have cared at all and simply left the decision in the hands of the Department of Mental Health.

Without transparency, we may never know.