The Minnesota Legislature is unprepared to function fully if the COVID-19 virus sweeps through its members.

If 34 members of the Minnesota Senate were sick with coronavirus — or quarantined for any reason — Monday morning, the body would have been unable vote on the $21 million coronavirus funding plan it approved. And if 68 House members were in similar straits, that chamber would have been unable to vote on the bill as well, as it did Monday evening, sending it on an express trip to Gov. Tim Walz for his signature.

That’s because members of the state House and Senate must meet in person, according to the Minnesota Constitution, state laws, and the rules of each respective chamber. No G-Chat, no Skype, no telecommuting for lawmakers.

This once-theoretical weakness took on greater weight Monday as both chambers approved funding to battle COVID-19 amid the backdrop of a spreading infection and four members of Congress under self-quarantine.

Many in the Capitol are aware of the vulnerability. Lawyers, staffers and legislative leaders were discussing the matter Monday, although it didn’t appear to be taking on utmost urgency.

Lawmakers have often found creative ways to address urgent matters, frequently bending their own rules on issues that aren’t controversial. And most of what is on lawmakers’ agenda during the current session isn’t essential for government to function; the state is in the midst of a two-year budget approved last year, so there’s no risk of a state government shutdown.

However, the Legislature holds the purse strings for spending taxpayer dollars, and Monday’s rapid votes (technically, the House declared an “emergency” in order to pass the plan right away) was a reminder that quick action can be needed to respond to the virus.

Even the notion of social distancing is tested under the Legislature’s rules. Senators, for example, must be at their desks in the Senate chamber in order to cast a vote.

NOT LIKE COMPANIES

Privately, some who have been involved in Capitol discussions acknowledge that some of the restrictions appear antiquated in an age when making decisions remotely is common in the private sector. And Walz is under no such restrictions when it comes to exercising his powers.

Unlike private companies and state agencies, which can — and have — instituted work-from-home policies for employees and can adjust them on the fly, the Legislature is bound by legal pillars that don’t move easily.

For example, the requirement for a quorum of members in each chamber — a majority of the members — to be present before it can convene to conduct official business is hallowed in the state Constitution. That can only be changed by voters via a constitutional amendment.

House Speaker Melissa Hortman, DFL-Brooklyn Park, said Monday that she and Senate leaders were discussing options, including one that would allow the Legislature to essentially shut down for a prolonged period, if needed, while an outbreak runs its course. That sounds simple, but the Minnesota Constitution makes it tricky to adjourn for more than three days.

Among the state Constitution’s other restrictions:

Key dates in the Legislature’s calendar are spelled out, including the maximum number of days it can meet and a May deadline to finish — although the governor can call a special session “on extraordinary occasions.”

The Legislature must meet in the city of St. Paul.

Each chamber must be “open to the public” when it meets. This is taken to mean that people have a right to observe the lawmakers in person, not just via a video feed.

THINGS RUNNING FINE NOW

To be clear, with only two confirmed COVID-19 cases in Minnesota on Monday, the state Capitol hummed along as it always does this time of year.

Lawmakers met in committees and in session. Lobbyists buttonholed them in corners to press their issues. Activists wandered the halls and gathered for demonstrations. Cafeterias served food, and the barbershop on the Capitol grounds continued to book appointments.

But handshakes and embraces appeared less frequent, with fist- and elbow-bumps frequently seen, and fastidious hygiene observable in public lavatories, where hand-washing instructions have been placed on mirrors.

Many were aware that in Washington, D.C., four lawmakers — Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Texas; Rep. Matt Gaetz, R-Fla.; Rep. Doug Collins, R-Ga.; and Rep. Paul Gosar, R-Ariz. — decided to isolate themselves after determining they had contact at a political conference with a man infected with the coronavirus. A fifth, U.S. Rep. Julia Brownley, D-Calif., closed her office and was self-monitoring, having no symptoms herself after meeting with someone last week who has COVID-19.

COLD WAR LEGACY?

Here’s a curious twist: If the source of the coronavirus were an “attack by an enemy of the United States,” then all bets would be off.

In 1961, near the height of the Cold War with the Soviet Union, Minnesota lawmakers passed a plan for “continuity of the Legislature.” It lays out what can be done in the event of an attack or imminent attack “through sabotage, bombs, missiles, shellfire, or atomic, radiological, chemical, bacteriological, or biological means.”

It allows the Legislature to change the location of where the Legislature can meet, and states that the governor will call a special session. Even if he or she doesn’t, the Legislature will convene a special session, according to the provisions.

Lastly, the provision allows for the definition of a quorum — the requirement that a majority of the members must be present — to be reduced, based on which lawmakers are able to show up.

The provisions of the statute have never been acted upon.

Bill Salisbury contributed to this report.