What the Heck Is TABOR? A Colorado Political Term — Explained

I’m new to Colorado politics.

But in the relatively short time I’ve been covering civic issues here, I’ve heard one term come up seemingly everywhere: TABOR.

It comes up at RTD hearings. It comes up in conversations about Front Range Passenger Rail. It comes up at Longmont City Council meetings. It comes up whenever Colorado politicians start talking about taxes, government spending or what voters will see on their ballots.

At first, I figured TABOR was basically Colorado’s version of Missouri’s Hancock Amendment, which I was familiar with from covering politics there: government wants certain tax increases, voters have to approve them.

That’s part of the story.

But only part of it.

So what the heck is TABOR?

TABOR stands for the Taxpayer’s Bill of Rights. Colorado voters approved it as a constitutional amendment in 1992.

At its simplest, TABOR puts voters directly into decisions about how government raises and, in some cases, keeps money.

It generally requires voter approval for tax increases. It places limits on how much revenue governments can retain. When revenue exceeds those limits, the excess generally must be refunded to taxpayers unless voters give the government permission to keep it.

And it also places restrictions on certain government debt.

That combination makes TABOR more than simply a requirement to put tax increases on the ballot.

I. Why TABOR Was Passed

TABOR emerged from a broader taxpayer movement that sought to put limits on the ability of state and local governments to increase taxes and spending.

Its best-known architect was Douglas Bruce, the Colorado anti-tax activist and former state legislator whose name still lives on in Colorado political vocabulary more than three decades later.

The basic philosophy behind TABOR is easy enough to understand: government should not be able to continually take more money from taxpayers without limits or their consent.

Colorado was not alone in embracing that idea.

Missouri voters, for example, approved the Hancock Amendment in 1980. California’s Proposition 13 dates to 1978. Other states have adopted various constitutional or statutory restrictions on taxes, spending or government revenue.

But Colorado’s TABOR went further than simply requiring voter approval for certain tax increases.

TABOR created a broader system that restricts taxes, revenue growth and certain debt while giving voters a direct role in deciding when government can move beyond those restrictions.

That distinction becomes particularly important when Colorado collects more revenue than TABOR allows the state to retain.

Instead of simply becoming additional money lawmakers can spend, that excess revenue generally has to go back to taxpayers.

Unless voters say otherwise.

And that brings us to another piece of Colorado political vocabulary: “de-Brucing.”

The term is a reference to Douglas Bruce. When voters allow a government to retain revenue above its TABOR limit rather than refunding it, the government is commonly said to have “de-Bruced.”

So when Coloradans vote on taxes, they sometimes aren’t simply deciding whether a government can collect a tax. They may also be deciding whether that government can keep revenue that would otherwise be subject to TABOR’s limits.

That helps explain why TABOR seems to work its way into so many otherwise unrelated civic conversations.

Transit funding? TABOR can matter.

A city tax? TABOR can matter.

A special district asking voters for money? TABOR can matter.

A statewide ballot question? There’s a decent chance TABOR is somewhere in the conversation.

More than 30 years after voters put it into the Colorado Constitution, the question is no longer simply why TABOR was adopted.

It’s whether those restrictions are still good policy today.

II. The Case for TABOR Today

For supporters of TABOR, the law is not just about limiting taxes. It is about forcing government to ask voters for permission.

Kim Monson, a member of the Colorado Union of Taxpayers and a longtime conservative radio host, described TABOR as a kind of “good manners” requirement for government.

Under TABOR, she said, elected officials generally have to go to voters if they want to raise taxes, take on certain debt or keep revenue collected above the constitutional limit.

“If you want to raise taxes that we the people have to pay, you just have to have the good manners to ask us,” Monson said.

To Monson, that requirement creates a useful check on government spending because officials have to make a public case for why they need more money.

She compared it to a child asking a parent for $100.

The answer does not necessarily have to be no. But the child should have to explain what the money is for rather than simply taking another $100 whenever they want it.

“They have to make the case for that,” Monson said.

Monson argues TABOR has been weakened since its passage, particularly through the use of government enterprises and fees whose revenue can be treated differently under TABOR.

“The ink wasn’t even dry on it,” she said, before politicians and other interests began finding ways to work around its restrictions.

The same philosophy that leads Monson to support voter approval of tax increases also underpins her support for TABOR refunds.

When governments collect more revenue than they are allowed to retain under TABOR, that excess generally must be returned unless voters authorize the government to keep it.

Monson believes taxpayers are generally better positioned to decide how to use that money.

“One of the best ways to make life affordable is if people have their money in their pocket,” she said.

Governments can ask voters to let them keep the money through de-Brucing measures.

Monson does not object to voters having that choice. But she is skeptical of the way some of those questions are presented.

She argues voters can approve ballot measures without fully appreciating that they are also allowing a government, school district or special district to retain revenue that otherwise could have been refunded.

“People have de-Bruced a lot of these ballot questions without even knowing that that question was in there,” Monson said.

There is an obvious downside to asking voters to make so many decisions about government finance: Colorado ballots can get long.

Monson acknowledges that.

“I think there is ballot fatigue,” she said.

But she argues the alternative is worse.

“But what is the alternative?” Monson asked. “That we don’t have ballot fatigue and they don’t ask us?”

That may be the simplest expression of the modern argument for TABOR.

Its supporters do not necessarily argue that voters will reject every tax increase. They argue voters should get to make the decision.

The extra ballot questions, political campaigns and debates over government funding are therefore not necessarily flaws in the system.

To TABOR supporters, they are the system working as intended.

Monson’s advice to Coloradans navigating all those questions is to do the homework.

“The main thing is, people need to be informed voters, not influenced voters,” she said.

III. The Case Against TABOR — Or At Least for Reforming It

Even some of TABOR’s critics acknowledge that its central promise has an appeal.

Chris Stiffler, an economist with the Colorado Fiscal Institute, did not dispute that TABOR restrains government revenue or gives taxpayers some predictability.

“I don’t think I would counter it,” Stiffler said when asked how he would respond to the argument that TABOR protects taxpayers from runaway government spending. “I think it does.”

His argument is that those protections come with tradeoffs.

And to understand those tradeoffs, Stiffler said, it is important to understand something that can easily get lost when Coloradans talk about TABOR: it is a revenue cap, not simply a spending cap.

TABOR limits how much revenue subject to the cap can come into state government. The limit generally grows based on inflation and population growth. When collections exceed that limit, the excess generally has to be refunded.

That applies even if lawmakers would rather save the money instead of spend it.

“Whether you save all that revenue doesn’t matter,” Stiffler said. “TABOR is not a spending cap. TABOR is a revenue cap.”

That distinction matters when Colorado is preparing for the next economic downturn.

Stiffler pointed to the Great Recession, when state revenue dropped sharply as Coloradans lost jobs, paid less income tax and spent less money subject to sales taxes.

Colorado can maintain reserves to cushion itself against those downturns. But money placed into reserves still counts under the TABOR revenue limit.

“In some sense, I would argue that TABOR makes it a little harder to save,” Stiffler said. “Makes it a little harder to save for downturns.”

There is another consequence when Colorado collects more than the TABOR limit.

The refunds have to come from somewhere.

Stiffler said TABOR refunds are paid from the state’s general fund — the same major pot of money used to fund schools, Medicaid, higher education, human services and prisons.

And he was quick to admit that getting money back can be pretty nice.

“I love TABOR rebates,” Stiffler said. “I bought skis with my $800 back in 2022. That’s pretty sweet.”

Then he immediately pointed to the tradeoff.

“But that’s also money that could have went to schools,” he said.

When a Tax Can’t Keep Up With Inflation

For Stiffler, Colorado’s gas tax provides another example of TABOR’s rigidity.

Unlike a sales tax, which automatically produces more revenue when the price of an item rises, a per-gallon gas tax does not automatically adjust when gasoline or the cost of building roads becomes more expensive.

Changing the tax rate, however, runs into TABOR’s voter-approval requirement.

Stiffler argues that lawmakers should have been able to design a gas tax that automatically adjusted with inflation or construction costs without repeatedly asking voters for permission.

Instead, he said, TABOR can leave legislators with fewer options to respond as economic conditions change.

“It’s kind of some of the stricter definitions that I think give a little bit too much handcuffs for legislators to respond to changing economic conditions,” Stiffler said.

Taxes Don’t Necessarily Disappear

Restricting taxes also does not necessarily eliminate government's need for revenue.

Stiffler argues it can instead change how Colorado raises that money.

Elected officials have historically had more flexibility with some fees than with general taxes, he said, creating an incentive to lean more heavily on them.

The problem, from Stiffler’s perspective, is that a $100 fee costs the same whether someone earns minimum wage or millions of dollars.

“$100 to someone who’s a millionaire is a tiny bit versus $100 to a minimum wage worker is way different,” he said.

Stiffler argues that shift can make Colorado’s tax system more regressive, with fees and sales taxes consuming a larger percentage of a lower-income household’s money than a wealthy household’s.

Should Voters Decide Everything?

Then there is the very feature TABOR supporters like Monson consider one of its greatest strengths: putting decisions directly in voters’ hands.

Stiffler questions whether that always produces better tax policy.

Colorado voters are not making those decisions in a vacuum. Ballot measures are accompanied by campaigns, advertising and sometimes large amounts of outside money.

“Should tax policy be decided at the ballot by voters who make their decisions based on a 15-second commercial during the Broncos game?” Stiffler asked.

It is almost the mirror image of Monson’s argument for TABOR.

Monson acknowledges that requiring voter approval can contribute to ballot fatigue, but asks what the alternative is: letting government make those decisions without asking taxpayers.

Stiffler sees another side of the same tradeoff: complicated fiscal policy being decided through campaigns and ballot questions rather than entirely by the elected officials voters already chose to make public-policy decisions.

Still, Stiffler did not advocate simply removing every restraint on Colorado government.

Repealing TABOR would itself require voters to agree to change the state constitution. And Stiffler said he believes any replacement would probably need to retain some protection against unchecked government growth.

“We probably always want some sort of cap on government or some sort of assurance that we’re not going to Californianize” Colorado, Stiffler said.

His objection is to the combination of restrictions Colorado has chosen.

TABOR requires voter approval for tax increases and imposes a revenue cap. Stiffler argues that combination makes Colorado’s system unusually restrictive and can leave lawmakers unable to easily adjust fiscal policy when economic conditions change.

IV. How TABOR Plays Out in Policy Fights Today

All of that might still sound like an abstract debate over constitutional law and government finance.

Then you start paying attention to Colorado politics.

TABOR is everywhere.

Take Front Range Passenger Rail.

Colorado has spent years discussing a passenger rail line connecting communities along the Front Range. In 2026, state lawmakers changed the boundaries and rules governing the Front Range Passenger Rail District, including provisions requiring voter approval before the district or one of its subdistricts can establish or increase a tax or create certain debt.

And now the debate has moved directly to the ballot box.

On Aug. 28, the Front Range Passenger Rail District board approved putting a tax question before voters in the Nov. 3 election. Because the proposal falls under TABOR, the district must prepare a TABOR notice for voters and collect arguments for and against the measure for the ballot information process.

That is TABOR operating exactly as its supporters describe it.

A government entity wants additional tax revenue for a major public project.

It has to ask voters.

Monson already knows how she would answer.

When I asked her about the proposed Front Range Passenger Rail tax, she argued that sales taxes are already too high and questioned whether the project would provide enough benefit to justify its cost.

“I would definitely vote no on that,” Monson said.

But the rail debate also demonstrates the argument made by TABOR’s critics.

Transportation infrastructure costs money, and Stiffler argues that TABOR makes it harder for elected officials to adjust existing revenue sources as costs change.

His gas-tax example illustrates the problem particularly well. A fixed per-gallon tax loses purchasing power as construction and maintenance costs rise, but adjusting the rate can trigger TABOR’s voter-approval requirement.

So instead of being simply a philosophical debate about whether taxes should be higher or lower, TABOR shapes the mechanics of how Colorado tries to pay for things.

The same tension shows up when governments ask voters to keep money they would otherwise have to refund.

And it shows up when lawmakers look for revenue outside traditional taxes.

Monson views the growth of government enterprises and fees as evidence politicians have found ways around the protections voters put into the constitution.

Stiffler sees some of those same workarounds as a predictable consequence of making traditional taxes so difficult to change.

The result is a strange feature of Colorado politics for someone encountering it for the first time.

A debate about a train can become a debate about TABOR.

A debate about schools can become a debate about TABOR.

A debate about whether you get a refund check — or, in Stiffler’s case, a new pair of skis — can become a debate about TABOR.

And every time a Colorado government asks voters for more money, the same fundamental disagreement from 1992 comes roaring back.

Should elected officials have more flexibility to raise and spend money as circumstances change?

Or should they have to ask you first?