What a week this has been in Sacramento. They took a brilliant young Latino who got his start in the San Diego barrio and, with 36 members of his family looking on, put him at the helm of the California Assembly.

At age 37, Fabian Núñez has been in the Legislature scarcely 14 months. He is the first "freshman" ever elected Assembly speaker, a role traditionally conferred on persons of political seniority and years of demonstrated legislative skills.

First, let it be noted that Assembly Republicans led the way in tapping freshman talent. They had made first-termer Kevin McCarthy their new minority floor leader.

But the speakership puts frosting on the cake. His elevation to the second most important position in state government marks Fabian Núñez as an unusually gifted leader. Still, it could not have happened a few short years ago, or in the absence of something beyond the control either of Núñez himself or of his 79 Assembly colleagues – legislative term limits.

This is a noose the people of California looped over their state officials and most local governing boards in 1990. No matter what an incumbent's popularity, or what his achievements, the guy or gal is no longer allowed to serve more than three two-year terms in the Assembly and/or two four-year terms as a state senator in their lifetimes.

If the enactment of term limits is to be viewed as a reform, the results thus far seem mixed. Both branches of the Legislature these days seethe with an in-and-out mentality. Members maneuver like jockeys at the clubhouse turn, plotting where and when to move next.

There has been a hardening of partisan lines, too. The historic difficulty of gaining two-thirds support for a state budget led to a complete procedural breakdown in the present Legislature – and, indirectly perhaps, to a governor's recall.

Equally troubling, one might suppose, is the declining power of those elected to wield it – but who hardly have time to learn their job before taking enforced retirement. Power must lie somewhere – if not with the people's representatives, then with whom?

With permanent capitol staff whom no one has elected?

Or, God save the mark, with Sacramento's dreaded swarm of lobbyists?

In an odd way, insiders see the choice of a freshman speaker as a sign of members' intent to bring stability out of chaos. It's asserted that putting a capable newcomer in charge means he'll probably have five years in the job colleagues have given him. (A happy contrast, if things work out that way. The Assembly has averaged a new speaker almost every year since term limits took effect.)

The man they're betting on now is surely one of the brightest new stars in all of politics. He learned about the world as the 10th of 12 children in a poor family that lived the first seven years of Fabian's life in Tijuana. He recalls later the daily crossing of San Diego from Logan Heights to help his father tend lawns and gardens of La Jolla's well-to-do. Small wonder that he was drawn to political activism after college and won election in 2002 from a low-income legislative district in Los Angeles.

But there is another side, as well, to term limits – the last hurrah for genuine old-timers. Our state Senate presently sees a reversal of the Núñez syndrome. President Pro Tem John Burton, first elected to the Legislature two years before Speaker Núñez was born, faces retirement when the present session is done. At age 73, Burton has served for as long as the law allows, with a few years in Congress added to his resumé.

Under the circumstances, his enforced departure leaves losers of us all. This unabashed liberal's legislative service spans an era from Governor Ronald Reagan's eight years all the way to our new governor's 10 weeks or so. The parliamentary skills and institutional memory Burton brings to bear are in short supply under term limits.

Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger may count himself lucky to have both these men to deal with in coming months, a time which seems sure to be bumpy. If California is to avoid the poorhouse, it will mean some "give" from both sides of the partisan divide. The new governor has seemed more drawn to Burton's combative style than was his long-ago predecessor Reagan – who once called Burton "a nut."

In the Assembly, Speaker Núñez will see the chance to exhibit statesmanship, and to justify the confidence of associates who have put a freshman at the helm.

The kid who so recently chopped weeds in La Jolla now has a say in guiding a state economy which, as we're often reminded, surpasses all but a handful of the world's nations.

Van Deerlin represented a San Diego County district in Congress for 18 years.