When Baltimore County voters approved a charter amendment to expand the County Council from seven to nine members for 2026, it was widely understood that the next council would look much different.

Now it’s becoming clear how different.

For the first time in decades, the entire council could turn over. Also possible: The newly elected members will be younger, more diverse and more ideologically divided.

Three of the current council members — Democrats Izzy Patoka of Pikesville, Julian Jones of Woodstock and Pat Young of Catonsville — are running for county executive. One, Republican Wade Kach of northern Baltimore County, is retiring; Del. Nino Mangione, a conservative Republican from Lutherville, already has entered the race to replace the moderate 77-year-old.

That leaves Republican David Marks of Upper Falls, a 14-year veteran of the council; Todd Crandell, a Dundalk Republican who has served 11 years, and relative newcomer Mike Ertel of Towson, a Democrat who first won his seat in 2022.

All three say they plan to run, but not much more. They’re not sure what their districts will look like, how likely their path to victory will be, and if another office would be a better fit.

“I’ve been personally encouraged by this council that they seem to be able to work pretty well together,” said Eric Rockel, a longtime council observer and member of the redistricting committee. “Given we don’t even know what the landscape is going to look like, we can’t make any predictions if that will still be the case.”

An End to Bipartisan Civility?

Unlike the frequently gridlocked Congress or the overwhelmingly Democratic Maryland General Assembly, the Baltimore County Council operates in a bipartisan fashion, like many local boards.

On any given day, it would be difficult for an outside observer to determine who belonged to which party. Marks and Kach are huge supporters of open space and parks. Crandell frequently partners with the more liberal Ertel on loitering or zoning bills.

They are all over 40, all men, and — with the exception of Jones — all white. They mostly get along and move legislation along, often unanimously.

It wasn’t always this collegial, though.

Rockel recalls the discord of the 1978 council. Two Democrats and two Republicans, who called themselves the “Fearsome Foursome,” became an unpredictable bulwark against the liberal policies of then-County Executive Ted Venetoulis. One called county firefighters “a bunch of thugs”; another time, he banged his gavel so hard that its head flew across the room.

Marks hopes such behavior will not return. But he thinks 2026 will produce a “much more ideological council.”

Sharonda Huffman of Middle River would be the first Black woman on the council if she wins. Karson Kamenetz of Pikesville would be the youngest councilman at age 25 if he does. Both are running as progressive Democrats.

Mangione could become the council’s most conservative member. As a delegate, he proposed legislation that would have banned gender-affirming surgery for minors and force counties and cities to fully cooperate with Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

Other county councils across the nation have tackled such topics, but the Baltimore County Council has typically not.

A lot of power

The council makeup matters because Baltimore County council members enjoy immense power.

They have nearly complete control over zoning in their districts — a responsibility that most jurisdictions leave to professional planners. And they enjoy councilmanic courtesy, meaning they do not interfere in projects in each other’s districts. If a councilman from Essex hates a development in Pikesville, for example, he won’t oppose it because he doesn’t want the Pikesville councilman to block his park the next time.

Every four years, Baltimore County undergoes a process called the Comprehensive Zoning Map Process. Developers, residents and green-space advocates ask council members to rezone pieces of land for new housing, commercial uses, or parks or green space. Requests often come from campaign donors, though the councilmen say that does not influence them. Professional planners and Planning Board members make recommendations, but councilmen have the final say.

“The system pretty much sucks,” said Pat Keller, the county’s former planning director and president of the Perry Hall Improvement Association. “And I think people understand that it sucks. It just confers so much power to one councilman.”

Where is my district?

A looming unknown in the council’s new makeup will be the maps of the nine districts.

In order to secure Republican support to put council expansion on the ballot, then-chair Izzy Patoka pushed through new political boundaries. The council then passed an amendment to create a redistricting commission that would slice the 600-square-mile county into districts of 95,000 people each by June. The commission will use the council-passed maps as a guide.

Some communities — like the Middle River waterfront — feel they naturally belong together. Others — like the Black communities in Woodlawn and Reisterstown — say the county needs two west side minority districts, not just the one that Jones now represents. The county’s Black residents make up about a third of the county population.

The American Civil Liberties Union also would like to see two majority-Black districts and one that is a mix of minorities. The organization has indicated it will sue if their attorneys deem the maps unfair. The last time Baltimore County redistricted, in 2022, the NAACP sued over maps that it said diluted Black representation. The county lost, and had to pay the private law firm that handled the defense close to $1 million. County staff had to redraw the maps, which took extensive effort and time.

Adding to the uncertainty is a push from a growing community of Black residents on the county’s east side, who are now in a Republican-leaning district.

Several, including Shafiyq Hinton, testified at a public hearing last week. Hinton, who ran against Ertel in 2022, said he has not decided whether he would run again. His main concern, though, is not his political future, but any nonincumbent’s ability to win. If candidates wait for final maps to decide whether to run, there may not be enough time to train political novices on how to raise money, debate and knock on 25,000 doors.

“Drawing council lines that are favorable to minorities is not enough,” Hinton said. “You have to train and prepare candidates that can actually win.”