When the Tennessee Republican Party sent a letter to the state’s Coordinator of Elections on February 25, it contained 149 names of candidates from across Tennessee who the party moved to disqualify from the May 2026 primary ballot for failing to meet requirements set by its own bylaws.
Under TRP bylaws, candidates can be disqualified either for failing to pay the required filing fee, or for not meeting the party’s “bona fide Republican” membership standard, which the party tightened in a previous bylaws revision.
The list makes no distinction between the two grounds, making it impossible to know from the document alone which issue applied to which candidate.
Three of those candidates are in Carroll County: John Austin, Joseph Butler, and Timothy Pratt.
According to the bylaws, those three have to pay the TRP $250 as a filing fee for running a race for countywide office under the Republican designation.
That $250 fee is not assessed by the State of Tennessee, but by the TRP itself.
It is charged by the Tennessee Republican Party, paid directly to the Tennessee Republican Party, and kept by the Tennessee Republican Party.
The fee runs on a sliding scale: $50 for school board or county commission, $250 for countywide offices, $500 for state representative, $1,000 for state senate, $2,500 for U.S. Congress, and $5,000 for governor or U.S. Senate.
We have reached out to the TRP for total figures, but roughly estimate that the party likely brought in at least $350,000* in candidate filing fees this election cycle. This figure will be updated if we hear back from them.
But, in a state where Republican affiliation on a ballot is often considered as a head start, critics might reasonably ask whether the fee amounts to something simpler: paying for the letter next to your name on the ballot.
Tennessee is among the most reliably Republican states in the country. The party controls the governor’s office, holds supermajorities in both chambers of the state legislature, and Republicans hold eight of the state’s nine U.S. House seats.
In that environment, the “R” beside a candidate’s name carries electoral weight. In down-ballot races like county commission, school board, and local offices where voters often know little about the individual candidates, it could be the difference that gets someone elected.
The party frames it differently, however.
State GOP Executive Committeewoman Anita Taylor said the concept is “not one of ‘pay to play,'” but rather an effort to place serious candidates on the ballot.
Taylor said candidates who pay their filing fees and meet all qualifying requirements will have access to key data from the party, including names, street addresses, and phone numbers of Republicans who live inside the precincts where they are seeking office.
Even with that explanation from party officials, according to a 2021 article, Republican state Sen. Todd Gardenhire of Chattanooga, said that TRP officials explained that the fees are a fundraising measure for the party, and “show running as a Republican has a value.”
In Carroll County, and across much of rural Tennessee, that value runs deeper than most voters may realize.
For many local offices, the Republican primary is not a stepping stone to the general election.
It often is the election.
A Republican nominee for county mayor, sheriff, or assessor of property in a reliably red county often faces no meaningful opposition in November.
The race is decided in May, months before most voters think the election has even begun.
But not every voter participates in the Republican primary.
Tennessee does not have party registration. Voters choose a party ballot when they arrive at the polls, and they can only choose one.
A voter who pulls a Democratic ballot in May, or who simply does not vote in the primary at all, has no voice in the race that actually decides who holds office.
That means the most consequential election for many local offices is effectively decided by a subset of the electorate; those who participate in the Republican primary. And that primary is administered not by the state, but by a private party organization with its own fees, its own membership requirements, and its own authority to determine who appears on the ballot.
The result is a system where a significant portion of Carroll County voters, and voters in many other jurisdictions, have no practical say in who governs them — not because they are not qualified to vote, but because the deciding election happens inside a party primary they may never cast a ballot in.
So, what is that value, truly, in a game where mere affiliation with the party is seen as a head start?
Joel Pate had already paid.
He had filed to seek the Republican nomination for Sheriff, met the party’s requirements, and submitted his $250 fee. By the party’s own standards, he was in.
He withdrew anyway.
“My decision to withdraw my petition was ultimately what I felt was best for myself and family at the current time,” Pate said. “A huge influence on that decision was the ongoing actions of the Republican Party, that you now see the results of, led me to feel that I couldn’t ethically announce a campaign that would be accepting funds of citizens and asking for their support.”
“I felt it was crucial to protect my personal and professional integrity and values over a possible questionable affiliation of my name on a ballot.”
“Ultimately the office of sheriff has to be a bipartisan unaffiliated role with the best interest of all people a priority,” Pate added. “I feel I need more facts and answers before I determine my stance on these actions of the Republican Party.”
Pate’s viewpoint raises an interesting question that candidates should consider: whether partisan affiliation has any place in local elections at all.
A county mayor manages budgets and services. An assessor of property sets valuations. A sheriff enforces the law for everyone.
These aren’t inherently partisan functions. But in Tennessee, and in the modern political climate, the path to winning those positions increasingly runs through a party apparatus that has decided, for a price, who gets to run and who gets to matter.