But that's a bad idea, one that does not protect taxpayers so much as emasculate local government.
As a former mayor himself, Jenkins may well resent the implication that local officials have to pay anyone to get a little quality time with their legislators.
But would Jenkins also require mayors to personally put out fires? Force county commissioners to mix their own concrete? Expect city council members to investigate crimes?
The sad fact is that lobbying - like police work and hazmat response - is a game for professionals.
Not that the price tags attached to some locals' lobbying efforts don't raise some eyebrows. Not that more of the work couldn't be done better by permanent staff loyal to their city rather than hired guns with multiple clients.
The Utah Taxpayers Association, which supports the ban, counts more than $1 million of state and federal lobbying bought by the larger local governments this year. Sandy alone is on track to spend $350,000.
But, as lawmakers and tax watchdogs know, lobbying is a lot more than just a quick word in the ear of a passing lawmaker. It is keeping track of innumerable bills, amendments, substitutes, hearings, administrative rules and rumors far beyond the ability of any mayor, supposedly a part-time job in most cases, to track.
And, whenever two or more legislators gather, local government has more to worry about than anyone. The developers, billboard companies and others who want not to be encumbered by local regulations or fees, will always have the services of pro lobbyists. City officials who represent real people must never be in that fight unarmed.
For locals to stand aside and let state lawmakers have their way - especially when cutting local revenues while increasing local duties is a nasty habit of legislators everywhere - would be a dereliction of duty.
Whatever the motivation, a ban on locals hiring pro lobbyists is really a way for the Legislature to act in the dark, without fear that those affected by those decisions will know what is happening until it is too late.
And it's already dark enough on Utah's Capitol Hill.
