Congress, or congressional Democrats, move closer to passing major healthcare legislation that would extend insurance coverage to nearly all Americans, whether they want it or not. Major provisions, from the public option to employer mandates and taxes, are still to be decided. But barring some intra-party blow-up, and a Republican goal-line stand notwithstanding, the president most likely will get a bill that will largely reshape the healthcare system.
As a recent public opinion poll indicates, voters in few states are more opposed than in Louisiana to what President Obama and Democratic leaders propose. The Southern Media survey showed 58 percent of respondents oppose "the Obama administration healthcare reform position" to 36 percent who favor it. That should be no surprise to anyone who attended any of the town hall meetings on the subject held in Louisiana in August and September.
Yet, despite that strong local opposition to the Democrats' plan, few states' voters have done more to move it forward than in Louisiana. They re-elected Mary Landrieu.
Because of last year's election, which was closer than polls and pundits predicted, John Kennedy is not the junior senator from Louisiana, Republicans do not have 41 votes to maintain a filibuster, and Democrats have just wide enough a window to push through most of what they want in a bill. The handful of Minnesota voters who provided the thin margin of victory for liberal Democrat Al Franken are just as responsible. Yet, with the possible exception of Sen. Blanche Lincoln of Arkansas, who is up for re-election next year, no Democratic senator is swimming against a stronger tide of public opinion than is Landrieu by even considering voting for the bill under discussion.
But for the choice made by Louisiana voters last year, the president and liberal Democrats would not have as strong a hand in fashioning maximum change.
Landrieu has not committed to support whatever bill emerges. But she, who wants to find a way to expand coverage to 650,000 uninsured Louisianians, is in a key position to negotiate major aspects of a final bill and, as these things go, to get something in return for the state for her vote. As for accountability, she must face the voters again in 2014. For the next five years, however, she will work within a possible Democratic majority either as a player or a marginalized maverick, largely depending on this vote.
She has maintained her opposition to the controversial public option provision, which appeared to be killed a few weeks ago, but, appropriate to the season, has returned from the dead. Many voters oppose the government getting into the health insurance business on conservative philosophical grounds, even though senior citizens can't imagine life without Medicare and the middle-aged can't wait to get on it. Another major concern is that many workers would be forced into the public system because their employers will dump private healthcare plans for it. There is strong disagreement that would be the case, just as it is irrelevant to growing numbers of the self-employed and those whose employers don't offer health insurance.
The resurgent public option would be a major problem for Landrieu but for the best idea to come out of the whole healthcare debate, an opt-out provision for the states. This would allow Landrieu to vote for a bill that contains a public option, knowing full well that state legislators will be falling over themselves to vote to keep the government-run plan out of Louisiana.
More than just a political solution, the opt-out idea would set up a national experiment that would compare states with public options to those without. Over the not-so-long-term, the fears of government-run insurance plans will be confirmed or dispelled state by state, instead of by Congress betting one way or the other.
There are other hard points for Landrieu to settle on, such as employer or individual coverage mandates, funding restrictions on abortions, how much it will cost and who will pay. But by her statements, it's clear the senator is looking for more reasons to vote with the president and her party than against. That would not be her choice to make had voters chosen differently last fall.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Presidents Visit, Secretaries Bring Checks
It's been a week since President Barack Obama spent his half day in New Orleans, but the visit deserves a postscript, beginning with, all together now, a huge sigh of relief that he left when he did.
When his itinerary was announced--a visit to a Ninth Ward school, a town hall meeting and take-out lunch from Dooky Chase's--it was greeted by a chorus of dismay that he was giving short shrift to the four-year-old Katrina recovery effort, that he needed to go to Chalmette and Lakeview and--don't forget Rita--Lake Charles.
Moreover, the complaints went, he was completely ignoring the ongoing disaster of coastal erosion by not helicoptering over the open waters of the gulf to view where the land used to be. The salt in the wound was that he was departing early for a Democratic Party fundraiser in San Francisco.
In cool hindsight, though, consider the flip side of be-careful-what-you-ask-for, which is be-glad-for-what-you-didn't-get. Had the president stayed overnight, he would have wakened to the headlines of the yahoo justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish who refused to marry interracial couples out of concern for the children of those unions.
With the traveling national press corps panting, Obama, the most famous son of an interracial marriage, would have felt compelled to offer a teachable moment on the sin of intolerance, to the terminal embarrassment of the state.
But with the president gone, official first responder duties appropriately fell to Gov. Bobby Jindal, who publicly castigated the hidebound JP and called for revoking his license.
So the state should have counted its PR blessings when Air Force One winged westward toward the setting sun. Better yet, it should appreciate the real blessings he left behind. While Obama was making nice with his inspirational message to schoolchildren, across town his administration was making a huge difference in the lives of 19,000 Louisiana families.
In what otherwise would have been the day's lead story, Housing and Urban Development Secretary Shaun Donovan approved the release of $600 million in additional grants for low- to moderate-income households to close the gaps between their Katrina/Rita Road Home grants and the inflated costs of repairing and rebuilding their houses.
It comes to an average of $34,000 per household, above the $50,000 cap on additional grants, which will go far toward finally getting many of the poorer storm victims back in their homes, long after their plight had faded from public attention.
That's how it works: presidents visit, cabinet secretaries bring checks. As far as Louisiana Recovery Authority Director Paul Rainwater is concerned, more gets done from a trip by a Cabinet secretary than when Air Force One touches down. "I love having cabinet secretaries here," he said. "I can talk real stuff and we can move things."
Their boss may be a day-tripper, but both HUD Secretary Donovan and Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano have spent days on the ground here in the last year and more time back in Washington making the state's case on a number of issues.
Rainwater says about $1.3 billion worth of drawn-out disputes with the Federal Emergency Management Agency were promptly settled by the new administration. He looks forward to successfully negotiating another $3 billion in 3,000 disputed projects in the coming months.
A major example is the arbitration process that should finally break the four-year-old impasse with FEMA over replacing Charity Hospital in New Orleans.
"They (Obama administration) supported Sen. (Mary) Landrieu's idea of independent arbitration," said Rainwater. "The former administration did not." Resolution is expected by early next year, a far better alternative than spending years more in court fighting FEMA.
If the arbitration panel's decision is short of the $492 million the state claims it is due, the president has told the governor he would be open to discussing additional funding.
Should it come to pass that way, instead of a presidential visit, Air Force One could simply circle the state Capitol, drop the check and keep on going-- and no one with a lick of sense would complain.
When his itinerary was announced--a visit to a Ninth Ward school, a town hall meeting and take-out lunch from Dooky Chase's--it was greeted by a chorus of dismay that he was giving short shrift to the four-year-old Katrina recovery effort, that he needed to go to Chalmette and Lakeview and--don't forget Rita--Lake Charles.
Moreover, the complaints went, he was completely ignoring the ongoing disaster of coastal erosion by not helicoptering over the open waters of the gulf to view where the land used to be. The salt in the wound was that he was departing early for a Democratic Party fundraiser in San Francisco.
In cool hindsight, though, consider the flip side of be-careful-what-you-ask-for, which is be-glad-for-what-you-didn't-get. Had the president stayed overnight, he would have wakened to the headlines of the yahoo justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish who refused to marry interracial couples out of concern for the children of those unions.
With the traveling national press corps panting, Obama, the most famous son of an interracial marriage, would have felt compelled to offer a teachable moment on the sin of intolerance, to the terminal embarrassment of the state.
But with the president gone, official first responder duties appropriately fell to Gov. Bobby Jindal, who publicly castigated the hidebound JP and called for revoking his license.
So the state should have counted its PR blessings when Air Force One winged westward toward the setting sun. Better yet, it should appreciate the real blessings he left behind. While Obama was making nice with his inspirational message to schoolchildren, across town his administration was making a huge difference in the lives of 19,000 Louisiana families.
In what otherwise would have been the day's lead story, Housing and Urban Development Secretary Shaun Donovan approved the release of $600 million in additional grants for low- to moderate-income households to close the gaps between their Katrina/Rita Road Home grants and the inflated costs of repairing and rebuilding their houses.
It comes to an average of $34,000 per household, above the $50,000 cap on additional grants, which will go far toward finally getting many of the poorer storm victims back in their homes, long after their plight had faded from public attention.
That's how it works: presidents visit, cabinet secretaries bring checks. As far as Louisiana Recovery Authority Director Paul Rainwater is concerned, more gets done from a trip by a Cabinet secretary than when Air Force One touches down. "I love having cabinet secretaries here," he said. "I can talk real stuff and we can move things."
Their boss may be a day-tripper, but both HUD Secretary Donovan and Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano have spent days on the ground here in the last year and more time back in Washington making the state's case on a number of issues.
Rainwater says about $1.3 billion worth of drawn-out disputes with the Federal Emergency Management Agency were promptly settled by the new administration. He looks forward to successfully negotiating another $3 billion in 3,000 disputed projects in the coming months.
A major example is the arbitration process that should finally break the four-year-old impasse with FEMA over replacing Charity Hospital in New Orleans.
"They (Obama administration) supported Sen. (Mary) Landrieu's idea of independent arbitration," said Rainwater. "The former administration did not." Resolution is expected by early next year, a far better alternative than spending years more in court fighting FEMA.
If the arbitration panel's decision is short of the $492 million the state claims it is due, the president has told the governor he would be open to discussing additional funding.
Should it come to pass that way, instead of a presidential visit, Air Force One could simply circle the state Capitol, drop the check and keep on going-- and no one with a lick of sense would complain.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
White House Embraces Jindal's Message
A recent poll among Republicans shows Gov. Bobby Jindal has slipped from even the second tier of GOP presidential prospects. Yet he still has no trouble raising money out-of-state or making headlines on the national stage, though perhaps not the kind he had in mind.
During his fundraising trip to Washington last week, the governor gave an interview to Politico, an on-line magazine read closely in the capital, that briefly thrust him into the middle of the healthcare debate--uncomfortably, that is, between the Obama White House and Republican leaders in Congress.
With the Senate Finance Committee preparing to vote on a bill opposed by nearly all Republicans, Jindal told Politico, "I think now is the perfect time to pivot and to say, not only here's what we're against . . but here's what we're for."
The headline read, Jindal to GOP: Work with Obama.
Jindal's remarks were not much different from what he's said all along about healthcare, but his timing and calling for Republicans to "pivot" was seized upon by White House press secretary Robert Gibbs, who in that day's press briefing said, "I think I saw one of the more popular Republican governors, Bobby Jindal, say today that it was time for Republicans to offer what they're for, not just talk about what they're against." And he urged the GOP leadership to listen to the young governor's call for cooperation.
They heard him, all right, none too happily. Jindal's remarks were likely galling to many Republicans, including the one who succeeded him, Rep. Steve Scalise of Metairie, who has written the president asking for a meeting to discuss areas of agreement and to offer alternatives.
If Obama and Jindal were to kick back over a beer, they would agree on insurance portability and coverage for pre-existing conditions, as the Republicans have. But they would disagree over the Medicaid expansion and penalties on employers who don't offer coverage, as the Republicans have.
So, besides his choice of softer words, Jindal's position on healthcare is the same as the Republican leadership's and just as irreconcilable with the president's. Yet the White House cast Jindal as Mr. Reasonable, whose example the GOP hacks should follow.
By then, the governor may have noticed he was being used. He sought to create some distance from his new admirers in the White House by responding in a statement, "The American people do not want to raise taxes, increase government spending or give government more control of our healthcare system."
But the story had moved on and congressional Republicans were no doubt pleased to see Jindal return home to resume his schedule of ribbon-cutting and medal-pinning ceremonies.
Besides image, however, there is another big difference between Jindal and congressional Republicans, that could explain his conciliatory tone. GOP congressmen can speak against, vote against and run against whatever healthcare bill the Democrats manage to pass. But Jindal, like other Republican governors, will have to take it and make it work within the budgets and frameworks of state government.
Provisions of bills being debated, if they become law, would fundamentally change public healthcare in Louisiana, spelling the end of the charity hospital system as we know it. Jindal's plans for overhauling the state's Medicaid program would have to conform to new federal rules.
Beyond that, Louisiana seeks special treatment from the feds on pressing healthcare issues. It desperately needs a $1 billion fix on its Medicaid match rate, caused by an artificial spike in personal incomes in the post-hurricane economy.
Also, if the state doesn't get all it seeks in arbitration with the Federal Emergency Management Agency to replace Charity Hospital in New Orleans, the president has said he would consider providing additional funding.
How those crucial matters are resolved could largely define Jindal's first term and shape his reputation as a problem-solving, can-do governor. Success greatly depends on cooperation from the Obama administration and, whether conservative voters like it or not, a good working relationship between the governor and the president.
So if Jindal's comments proved useful to the White House, it is hardly a bad thing for him or Louisiana. With so much on the line, I'd kiss up too.
During his fundraising trip to Washington last week, the governor gave an interview to Politico, an on-line magazine read closely in the capital, that briefly thrust him into the middle of the healthcare debate--uncomfortably, that is, between the Obama White House and Republican leaders in Congress.
With the Senate Finance Committee preparing to vote on a bill opposed by nearly all Republicans, Jindal told Politico, "I think now is the perfect time to pivot and to say, not only here's what we're against . . but here's what we're for."
The headline read, Jindal to GOP: Work with Obama.
Jindal's remarks were not much different from what he's said all along about healthcare, but his timing and calling for Republicans to "pivot" was seized upon by White House press secretary Robert Gibbs, who in that day's press briefing said, "I think I saw one of the more popular Republican governors, Bobby Jindal, say today that it was time for Republicans to offer what they're for, not just talk about what they're against." And he urged the GOP leadership to listen to the young governor's call for cooperation.
They heard him, all right, none too happily. Jindal's remarks were likely galling to many Republicans, including the one who succeeded him, Rep. Steve Scalise of Metairie, who has written the president asking for a meeting to discuss areas of agreement and to offer alternatives.
If Obama and Jindal were to kick back over a beer, they would agree on insurance portability and coverage for pre-existing conditions, as the Republicans have. But they would disagree over the Medicaid expansion and penalties on employers who don't offer coverage, as the Republicans have.
So, besides his choice of softer words, Jindal's position on healthcare is the same as the Republican leadership's and just as irreconcilable with the president's. Yet the White House cast Jindal as Mr. Reasonable, whose example the GOP hacks should follow.
By then, the governor may have noticed he was being used. He sought to create some distance from his new admirers in the White House by responding in a statement, "The American people do not want to raise taxes, increase government spending or give government more control of our healthcare system."
But the story had moved on and congressional Republicans were no doubt pleased to see Jindal return home to resume his schedule of ribbon-cutting and medal-pinning ceremonies.
Besides image, however, there is another big difference between Jindal and congressional Republicans, that could explain his conciliatory tone. GOP congressmen can speak against, vote against and run against whatever healthcare bill the Democrats manage to pass. But Jindal, like other Republican governors, will have to take it and make it work within the budgets and frameworks of state government.
Provisions of bills being debated, if they become law, would fundamentally change public healthcare in Louisiana, spelling the end of the charity hospital system as we know it. Jindal's plans for overhauling the state's Medicaid program would have to conform to new federal rules.
Beyond that, Louisiana seeks special treatment from the feds on pressing healthcare issues. It desperately needs a $1 billion fix on its Medicaid match rate, caused by an artificial spike in personal incomes in the post-hurricane economy.
Also, if the state doesn't get all it seeks in arbitration with the Federal Emergency Management Agency to replace Charity Hospital in New Orleans, the president has said he would consider providing additional funding.
How those crucial matters are resolved could largely define Jindal's first term and shape his reputation as a problem-solving, can-do governor. Success greatly depends on cooperation from the Obama administration and, whether conservative voters like it or not, a good working relationship between the governor and the president.
So if Jindal's comments proved useful to the White House, it is hardly a bad thing for him or Louisiana. With so much on the line, I'd kiss up too.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Kennedy Steals the March on Government Change
He's been so busy lately, helicoptering to every corner of the state to deliver jumbo-sized ceremonial checks to parish officials, to pin medals on veterans and to attend church services that Gov. Bobby Jindal must have missed that, back at the Capitol, someone else was leading the charge to cut state government down to size.
Treasurer John Kennedy is merely the chairman of a subcommittee of an advisory panel for streamlining government, but he grasped its publicity potential and has stolen the march on not one but both blue-ribbon commissions on budget-cutting and restructuring.
Kennedy has been traveling the state too, not as deeply into the piney woods as Jindal, but rather to Chamber of Commerce luncheons and editorial boards to promote his big ideas for change, from a 15,000 reduction in state employees to a single board of higher education.
Going strictly by appearances, Kennedy is looking like a governor; Jindal, a lieutenant governor.
Appearances deceive, of course. The governor does focus intently on economic development opportunities. And his staff has been actively engaged with both commissions, particularly the Postsecondary Education Review Board, exploring how to make a big idea like a single college management board actually work.
But with Kennedy capturing the limelight by default, Jindal may have felt the need to re-assert his role of budget-cutter-in-chief.
If so, he chose a curious way to go about it, by giving both commissions specific dollar-amount goals for budget reduction recommendations: $802 million from the streamlining commission and $146 million from the college board.
Nothing wrong with defining the challenge and setting goals. He could have done that six weeks ago when these groups first met. Instead, at that time, he urged panel members to be bold and think outside the box.
His job, it goes without saying, is to deal with the box as it is. The streamlining commission should be free to come up with creative, innovative suggestions that, if any of them worked, could save big money. But it is the governor's responsibility to meet the projected $948 million deficit when he presents the executive budget next March. It would be interesting, also comforting, to hear what specific ideas he has come up with already.
When it gets down to the reality of writing a balanced budget, Jindal has his own streamlining commission. It's called the Division of Administration. Commissioner Angele Davis, who sits on the streamlining panel, probably already has considered most of the recommendations that will come up. She gave an impressive presentation on what she's doing now to control costs throughout state agencies, such as a moratorium on buying cars. It didn't come close to $802 million, but it was a start.
That's more than the education board has accomplished. Comprised mostly of out-of-state experts with their own busy schedules, that commission has met only once, has yet to elect a chairman or set a direction for what it wants to get done.
It's unrealistic to expect the educators to make serious recommendations on cutting 15 percent of state spending for higher education. They would better serve the state by sticking to their original mission to recommend broad, even sweeping changes in how management systems are structured. Once a new plan is in place, it would be possible--more than now--to reduce costs through the merger of programs, even campuses.
The big idea, a single board, is not a new one--and Kennedy is out there running with it already. Board members and the governor's staff, especially executive counsel Tim Barfield, have been having deep discussions about what kind of new regime could replace the current five boards.
Such a far-reaching, controversial proposal--requiring constitutional change--is more effectively advanced after the vetting and seal of approval of a blue-ribbon commission of outside experts.
If the governor gets that much out of the education board, he shouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't also tell him how to balance his higher education budget. It will have served a higher purpose.
At that point, the governor can put away his poster checks and medals and travel the state with a game-changing big idea to discuss, with the stage all to himself.
Treasurer John Kennedy is merely the chairman of a subcommittee of an advisory panel for streamlining government, but he grasped its publicity potential and has stolen the march on not one but both blue-ribbon commissions on budget-cutting and restructuring.
Kennedy has been traveling the state too, not as deeply into the piney woods as Jindal, but rather to Chamber of Commerce luncheons and editorial boards to promote his big ideas for change, from a 15,000 reduction in state employees to a single board of higher education.
Going strictly by appearances, Kennedy is looking like a governor; Jindal, a lieutenant governor.
Appearances deceive, of course. The governor does focus intently on economic development opportunities. And his staff has been actively engaged with both commissions, particularly the Postsecondary Education Review Board, exploring how to make a big idea like a single college management board actually work.
But with Kennedy capturing the limelight by default, Jindal may have felt the need to re-assert his role of budget-cutter-in-chief.
If so, he chose a curious way to go about it, by giving both commissions specific dollar-amount goals for budget reduction recommendations: $802 million from the streamlining commission and $146 million from the college board.
Nothing wrong with defining the challenge and setting goals. He could have done that six weeks ago when these groups first met. Instead, at that time, he urged panel members to be bold and think outside the box.
His job, it goes without saying, is to deal with the box as it is. The streamlining commission should be free to come up with creative, innovative suggestions that, if any of them worked, could save big money. But it is the governor's responsibility to meet the projected $948 million deficit when he presents the executive budget next March. It would be interesting, also comforting, to hear what specific ideas he has come up with already.
When it gets down to the reality of writing a balanced budget, Jindal has his own streamlining commission. It's called the Division of Administration. Commissioner Angele Davis, who sits on the streamlining panel, probably already has considered most of the recommendations that will come up. She gave an impressive presentation on what she's doing now to control costs throughout state agencies, such as a moratorium on buying cars. It didn't come close to $802 million, but it was a start.
That's more than the education board has accomplished. Comprised mostly of out-of-state experts with their own busy schedules, that commission has met only once, has yet to elect a chairman or set a direction for what it wants to get done.
It's unrealistic to expect the educators to make serious recommendations on cutting 15 percent of state spending for higher education. They would better serve the state by sticking to their original mission to recommend broad, even sweeping changes in how management systems are structured. Once a new plan is in place, it would be possible--more than now--to reduce costs through the merger of programs, even campuses.
The big idea, a single board, is not a new one--and Kennedy is out there running with it already. Board members and the governor's staff, especially executive counsel Tim Barfield, have been having deep discussions about what kind of new regime could replace the current five boards.
Such a far-reaching, controversial proposal--requiring constitutional change--is more effectively advanced after the vetting and seal of approval of a blue-ribbon commission of outside experts.
If the governor gets that much out of the education board, he shouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't also tell him how to balance his higher education budget. It will have served a higher purpose.
At that point, the governor can put away his poster checks and medals and travel the state with a game-changing big idea to discuss, with the stage all to himself.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Clarity Better Than Gold in Ethics Laws
An out-of-state government consultant testifying before the Streamlining Government Commission was asked what he thought of Louisiana's new ethics laws being ranked best in the country.
"It said you had the best rules," the consultant deadpanned. "It didn't say you always followed them."
Well put. Beyond bragging rights, it is hard to identify what Gov. Bobby Jindal's signature initiative, the overhaul of state ethics laws, has achieved, other than clearing out Ruth's Chris Steakhouse during legislative sessions by way of the $50 limit on what lobbyists can spend entertaining lawmakers.
In many cases, the difficulty with obeying new ethics rules has been understanding them.
For instance, current ethics cases involving two legislators and one sheriff stand to be decided not on their merits but on whether the Legislature intended for a change in the law to be retroactive or prospective, which could have been but wasn't cleared up with one sentence.
In the interest of fair play, the Legislature shortened the time period from two years to one for the Board of Ethics to bring charges after receiving a complaint.
The near mass resignation of the old board and the appointment of a new one ate up several months before the new members could get around to old cases. They eventually brought the charges within the old two-year window but beyond the new one-year deadline.
The accused officials argue that the new limit applies to them, while the Ethics Board holds that the old rules govern old cases.
Depending on how state courts eventually rule, the first dozen or so cases under the new ethics regime could be thrown out because the Legislature and the governor's lawyers screwed up the drafting of the laws.
The new procedures have other problems, which make justice needlessly elusive.
Ethics charges are no longer decided by the Board of Ethics but by panels of administrative law judges. It's been claimed that because the head of the Division of Administrative Law is appointed by the governor that she can be leaned on to protect Jindal's friends.
That's a twisted stretch.
The director, Ann Wise, first appointed by former Gov. Foster, is as ethical and independent a public servant as this state has. The administrative law judges who work for her are mostly career civil servants who hear thousands of cases each year involving employee-management disputes in state government.
They are as fair and capable as the governor's ethics board appointees in deciding cases. But that doesn't mean they should be doing so.
Legislators came up with using the ALJs in order to get away from having the ethics board act as prosecutor, judge and jury. But they should have thought that through more. Under the new law, the ethics board acts as kind of a grand jury in charging defendants, but once the ALJ renders a decision, the board is required to ratify the ruling, even if members don't agree with it.
Board chairman Frank Simoneaux intends to ask the Legislature to return decision-making to the board, but to have a separate department within the agency investigate and prosecute cases. That would clear up conflicts while restoring the board to its proper adjudicatory role instead of that of a ceremonial bystander.
Also, should the governor and Legislature revisit ethics, they might as well change those three troublesome words, "clear and convincing," that make the new process anything but.
The words were inserted into legislation to set a new standard of proof, meant to fall somewhere between "preponderance of evidence" in civil cases and "beyond reasonable doubt" in criminal cases. Trouble is, no one is quite sure where that somewhere is.
The standard-of-proof wording does not, as some critics claim, make ethics laws unenforceable, but neither does it make them clear. In most cases, the facts are not in dispute so much as is the interpretation of the law. So returning to "preponderance of evidence" would not change outcomes as much as it would re-instill some confidence in the system.
The governor need not worry that clarifying ethics laws would tarnish the gold standard he professes for them. But it sure would help make our best-ranked rules easier to follow.
"It said you had the best rules," the consultant deadpanned. "It didn't say you always followed them."
Well put. Beyond bragging rights, it is hard to identify what Gov. Bobby Jindal's signature initiative, the overhaul of state ethics laws, has achieved, other than clearing out Ruth's Chris Steakhouse during legislative sessions by way of the $50 limit on what lobbyists can spend entertaining lawmakers.
In many cases, the difficulty with obeying new ethics rules has been understanding them.
For instance, current ethics cases involving two legislators and one sheriff stand to be decided not on their merits but on whether the Legislature intended for a change in the law to be retroactive or prospective, which could have been but wasn't cleared up with one sentence.
In the interest of fair play, the Legislature shortened the time period from two years to one for the Board of Ethics to bring charges after receiving a complaint.
The near mass resignation of the old board and the appointment of a new one ate up several months before the new members could get around to old cases. They eventually brought the charges within the old two-year window but beyond the new one-year deadline.
The accused officials argue that the new limit applies to them, while the Ethics Board holds that the old rules govern old cases.
Depending on how state courts eventually rule, the first dozen or so cases under the new ethics regime could be thrown out because the Legislature and the governor's lawyers screwed up the drafting of the laws.
The new procedures have other problems, which make justice needlessly elusive.
Ethics charges are no longer decided by the Board of Ethics but by panels of administrative law judges. It's been claimed that because the head of the Division of Administrative Law is appointed by the governor that she can be leaned on to protect Jindal's friends.
That's a twisted stretch.
The director, Ann Wise, first appointed by former Gov. Foster, is as ethical and independent a public servant as this state has. The administrative law judges who work for her are mostly career civil servants who hear thousands of cases each year involving employee-management disputes in state government.
They are as fair and capable as the governor's ethics board appointees in deciding cases. But that doesn't mean they should be doing so.
Legislators came up with using the ALJs in order to get away from having the ethics board act as prosecutor, judge and jury. But they should have thought that through more. Under the new law, the ethics board acts as kind of a grand jury in charging defendants, but once the ALJ renders a decision, the board is required to ratify the ruling, even if members don't agree with it.
Board chairman Frank Simoneaux intends to ask the Legislature to return decision-making to the board, but to have a separate department within the agency investigate and prosecute cases. That would clear up conflicts while restoring the board to its proper adjudicatory role instead of that of a ceremonial bystander.
Also, should the governor and Legislature revisit ethics, they might as well change those three troublesome words, "clear and convincing," that make the new process anything but.
The words were inserted into legislation to set a new standard of proof, meant to fall somewhere between "preponderance of evidence" in civil cases and "beyond reasonable doubt" in criminal cases. Trouble is, no one is quite sure where that somewhere is.
The standard-of-proof wording does not, as some critics claim, make ethics laws unenforceable, but neither does it make them clear. In most cases, the facts are not in dispute so much as is the interpretation of the law. So returning to "preponderance of evidence" would not change outcomes as much as it would re-instill some confidence in the system.
The governor need not worry that clarifying ethics laws would tarnish the gold standard he professes for them. But it sure would help make our best-ranked rules easier to follow.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Panels Brainstorming Smaller Government
One could sense the collective yawn and rolling of the eyes when Gov. Bobby Jindal urged two separate commissions on down-sizing state government and higher education to be bold, to think big and to come up with recommendations that won't just gather dust on a shelf, as has happened in the past.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission.
That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission.
That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Panels Brainstorming Smaller Government
One could sense the collective yawn and rolling of the eyes when Gov. Bobby Jindal urged two separate commissions on down-sizing state government and higher education to be bold, to think big and to come up with recommendations that won't just gather dust on a shelf, as has happened in the past.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission. That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Skepticism abounds, for these advisory panels, like those before, can think outside their boxes all they want, but it's the governor and the Legislature who have to follow through to make government institutions any smaller, as has not happened in the past.
This time, however, with state revenues in steep decline for years to come, change is going to happen, the only question being if and how government and higher education will work when it is all done.
One would think Jindal, with his big-picture vision and laser-like focus, would not need a couple of blue-ribbon commissions to tell him what needs to be done. Nor is the Legislature clueless.
What they both need is outside validation and broad-based public support for the hard political choices to curtail government services and shrink universities.
For that, the Commission on Streamlining State Government and the Postsecondary Education Review Commission could prove useful, not to mention quick and cheap for government work.
With only four months to report back, the streamlining commission is taking a broad look at state government instead of drilling down into each agency. "We want to make sweeping recommendations," said its chairman, Sen. Jack Donahue, R-Mandeville, with the aim of saving of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Off the top of his head, he suggests centralizing human resources and technology support instead of every agency having its own staffs for those functions. The governor urged the streamliners to look at merging some state agencies and privatizing and outsourcing the work of others.
Comprised mostly of state officials and with minimal operating expenses, if the streamliners come up with one $10 million idea that the Legislature buys, the effort won't be wasted.
The higher education commission, however, needs to do better than that, given the serious and growing shortfalls for college budgets. There are those who won't be satisfied with anything less than the closure of three or four of the state's 14 four-year universities. That's not going to happen.
According to a web site that tracks universities that have closed, since 1945, the number of public four-year colleges in the country to shut down is three: in South Dakota, North Dakota and Minnesota. More four-year colleges have become two-year schools, but as major economic engines of any community, they don't just go away.
Instead, the governor asked the commission, comprised mainly of out-of-state experts and Louisiana private citizens, to look at right-sizing the schools we have. In Louisiana, 75 percent of college students attend four-year universities and only 25 percent go to community colleges, while nationwide, it's closer to 50-50.
The governor proposed a solution straight out of Economics 101: raise admission requirements at four-year schools in order to divert more marginal, less-prepared students to community colleges, where the cost per credit hour is far cheaper, both for the state and the student.
The economic impact of the poor graduation rates of Louisiana universities is seen in students who flunk out or quit after a few semesters, but are saddled with their student loans for years. If the same students start at community colleges, they would borrow less with far greater chances of earning associate degrees, which lead to better jobs or admission to four-year schools.
Enticing unprepared students to take out loans to go to universities where they will fail morally equates to the worst practices of the sub-prime mortgage industry.
The idea of raising admission requirements is not new, but neither has it been embraced by university leaders and their local legislators, who fear losing enrollment on which funding and jobs are based. Fortunately, the colleges have a voice but not a vote on the college commission. That will make it easier, or at least possible, for the panel to make and validate the kind of bold recommendations the governor will need to build public support around. It's going to take a lot.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Both Sides Hit Landrieu on Healthcare
Sen. Mary Landrieu plans to host a town-hall meeting on healthcare reform later this month somewhere in the river parishes. Bring a helmet.
That would be the advice of Democratic congressmen around the country who have been booed, heckled, shouted down and threatened while trying to explain and/or defend their positions on health insurance legislation, particularly the 1,017-page bill that will be on the House floor when lawmakers return from August recess.
Republican operatives and conservative talk show hosts have been blamed for or credited with whipping up the masses, but they didn't wholly manufacture the genuine anger, fear and confusion over an omnibus bill that people felt was being jammed down on them.
Even before the facilitators got involved, one of the first such outbursts of public wrath took place in Reserve, La., last month, when a national rural listening tour of federal Cabinet secretaries, particularly Health Secretary Kathleen Sebelius, received a hostile earful from a loud and angry crowd. The prospect of walking into another raucous town-square shout-out doesn't seem to rattle Landrieu, who has been attacked already over national healthcare--not by conservatives but by liberals in her own party.
Last month, advocacy groups MoveOn.org and Change Congress ran radio and TV ads, respectively, that painted Landrieu as a toady for the insurance industry because she opposed a government-run health insurance option. She was urged to get in line with other Democrats supporting the government plan that would compete with private insurance.
One month later, the worm it is a-turning. Even before the town-hall riots of August, the notion of a federally-run insurance program, the centerpiece of the House bill, was starting to founder in the Senate.
There, negotiations over an elusive bipartisan bill have been moving away from the government option toward coverage offered by a network of non-profit member-owned cooperatives, which would be subsidized by the feds but run by the states. Though the bipartisan Senate bill has not taken full shape, it alone among the major bills under consideration would rein in the growth of federal healthcare spending over ten years, according to the Congressional Budget Office.
The notion of more local control diminishes fear of Big Brother with a needle. Yet critics point out that under a subsidized co-op plan, like with a government plan, cheaper rates would lure many businesses who now offer insurance to employees to drop their private plans for the public model. So when the president says that if you like your insurance policy you can keep it, he should add, "unless your boss chooses the government option or co-op for you."
Landrieu has similar reservations about the government and employers determining the coverage for workers. She and 11 colleagues--six Democrats, six Republicans--have co-sponsored the Healthy Americans Act, which would grant individuals, instead of employers, substantial tax deductions to use to purchase insurance in the marketplace.
Everyone would be required to have insurance, but the government would subsidize those with low incomes. Employers would be required to increase wages to replace what they were spending on health insurance. And insurers could not deny coverage based on pre-existing conditions. It sounds too reasonable and straightforward to be taken seriously in Congress, and it hasn't been yet.
A large number of Democrats will not let go of the government option, while many Republicans still oppose required coverage and more government rules. Frustrated Democrats, angered by the mobbish disruptions in the heartland, might urge the president to pass a bill without any GOP votes.
They would do so at their peril, for passing a law is only the first step. Making that much change work, at what cost, and getting the people to like it, will be how healthcare reform is won, or lost. Sen. Landrieu, meanwhile, seems comfortable on the middle ground she has staked out, though she is scorned on the left and distrusted on the right.
Yet the longer she stays there, the closer the debate seems to move toward her. Down home later this month, armed only with her centrist plan, she will stride into the valley of the town-hall meeting, where, who knows, both sides might stop shouting long enough to listen.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Personal Spats Hold Back School Change
By John Maginnis
Whatever success Gov. Bobby Jindal may claim in the recent legislative session does not extend to his K-12 education agenda, which lawmakers trashed. Not only did the administration-backed package of bills to rein in the power of school boards fail to go anywhere, but passage of a controversial career diploma bill, which Pastorek opposed but the governor signed, could mark a big step backwards from the gains made in student accountability over the past decade.
So it's not surprising that the session barely ended before the blame games began—with emphasis on games, as played on schoolyards.
Legislators complained that state school Superintendent Paul Pastorek was abrasive and talked down to them.
Pastorek said the teacher unions and school boards badmouthed him in order to defeat bills that threatened them.
The governor said one of his appointees, Tammie McDaniel, was stirring up trouble on the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education and he asked her to resign.
She said no, because the constitution said she didn't have to.
McDaniel requested and was granted a meeting with the governor at the Mansion, but when she arrived, she found deputy chief of staff Steve Waguespack sitting in, which made her "uncomfortable." The governor explained that's how things are done in his office. She decided not to stay and drove back to Oak Ridge. The governor's staff leaked word to columnists that she walked out on him and that she was rude. Was not, she said.
Thankfully, the bell rang: recess over.
Now can we have a reasonable conversation about what needs to be changed with schools and school boards and how to get that done? Personalities will always play a role in how public policy is formed, but too often they are the excuses rather than real reasons for failure.
Whether or not Pastorek treated legislators and school board members with the deference they think they deserve obscures the point that he's right: that local school boards should stick to policy and let superintendents and principals run the schools, without the politicians' advice and consent on which school bus drivers must be hired or cafeteria workers promoted.
If micromanagement was the biggest problem that needed correcting, it should have been the main focus, if not the entirety, of the education change agenda. Instead, that issue was sidetracked by debate over term limits and pay limits for school board members, which made it easier for school board and teacher lobbyists to mobilize opposition to the whole package of bills, all of which failed.
Pastorek points out that it took seven years for education advocates to pass a bill against micromanagement in the Texas legislature, and that, despite attempts, a school board term-limits bill never passed there. So why even try a term-limits bill here if the distraction makes it harder to pass a micromanagement bill? Let's hope that lesson has sunk in.
As for the spat between Bobby and Tammie, the governor is now resigned to the fact that he appointed a loose cannon and now can't get rid of her. He has three appointments to BESE and eight members are elected, so her independence poses a challenge for the administration, but hardly an insurmountable one. McDaniel, a former teacher and principal, denies that she is for the status quo and insists that she most often supports Pastorek's policies in principle. She has the chance to prove it, especially now that Jindal has singled her out.
If personal differences can be set aside, BESE has work to do. An immediate challenge is to fashion a curriculum for the new career diploma track that doesn't make hash of the hard-won improvements in student accountability and ending social promotions. While the career track could help in reducing the dropout rate, it will hurt if it also reduces the graduation rate for the academic track. The danger is that many marginal students, who would otherwise tough it out for a real diploma, will choose the path of least resistance, toward a dead end. The Legislature didn't address those details; BESE must.
For their part, the governor and legislative leaders must play a stronger role on future legislation to change how public schools are governed and managed. Otherwise, they will just be spectators when the education community gets into another schoolyard brawl.
Whatever success Gov. Bobby Jindal may claim in the recent legislative session does not extend to his K-12 education agenda, which lawmakers trashed. Not only did the administration-backed package of bills to rein in the power of school boards fail to go anywhere, but passage of a controversial career diploma bill, which Pastorek opposed but the governor signed, could mark a big step backwards from the gains made in student accountability over the past decade.
So it's not surprising that the session barely ended before the blame games began—with emphasis on games, as played on schoolyards.
Legislators complained that state school Superintendent Paul Pastorek was abrasive and talked down to them.
Pastorek said the teacher unions and school boards badmouthed him in order to defeat bills that threatened them.
The governor said one of his appointees, Tammie McDaniel, was stirring up trouble on the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education and he asked her to resign.
She said no, because the constitution said she didn't have to.
McDaniel requested and was granted a meeting with the governor at the Mansion, but when she arrived, she found deputy chief of staff Steve Waguespack sitting in, which made her "uncomfortable." The governor explained that's how things are done in his office. She decided not to stay and drove back to Oak Ridge. The governor's staff leaked word to columnists that she walked out on him and that she was rude. Was not, she said.
Thankfully, the bell rang: recess over.
Now can we have a reasonable conversation about what needs to be changed with schools and school boards and how to get that done? Personalities will always play a role in how public policy is formed, but too often they are the excuses rather than real reasons for failure.
Whether or not Pastorek treated legislators and school board members with the deference they think they deserve obscures the point that he's right: that local school boards should stick to policy and let superintendents and principals run the schools, without the politicians' advice and consent on which school bus drivers must be hired or cafeteria workers promoted.
If micromanagement was the biggest problem that needed correcting, it should have been the main focus, if not the entirety, of the education change agenda. Instead, that issue was sidetracked by debate over term limits and pay limits for school board members, which made it easier for school board and teacher lobbyists to mobilize opposition to the whole package of bills, all of which failed.
Pastorek points out that it took seven years for education advocates to pass a bill against micromanagement in the Texas legislature, and that, despite attempts, a school board term-limits bill never passed there. So why even try a term-limits bill here if the distraction makes it harder to pass a micromanagement bill? Let's hope that lesson has sunk in.
As for the spat between Bobby and Tammie, the governor is now resigned to the fact that he appointed a loose cannon and now can't get rid of her. He has three appointments to BESE and eight members are elected, so her independence poses a challenge for the administration, but hardly an insurmountable one. McDaniel, a former teacher and principal, denies that she is for the status quo and insists that she most often supports Pastorek's policies in principle. She has the chance to prove it, especially now that Jindal has singled her out.
If personal differences can be set aside, BESE has work to do. An immediate challenge is to fashion a curriculum for the new career diploma track that doesn't make hash of the hard-won improvements in student accountability and ending social promotions. While the career track could help in reducing the dropout rate, it will hurt if it also reduces the graduation rate for the academic track. The danger is that many marginal students, who would otherwise tough it out for a real diploma, will choose the path of least resistance, toward a dead end. The Legislature didn't address those details; BESE must.
For their part, the governor and legislative leaders must play a stronger role on future legislation to change how public schools are governed and managed. Otherwise, they will just be spectators when the education community gets into another schoolyard brawl.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Moving Up by Staying Put
By John Maginnis
Simply by staying still, the political stars of the state's top two elected leaders are on the rise.
Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu announced last week he would not run for mayor of New Orleans next year, opting to stay in Baton Rouge, closer to his ultimate goal. Good choice. Even if he were to be elected mayor, hardly assured, the office historically is a dead end for political careers, even if he were to succeed in bringing the city together, also hardly assured. For his future, the best job is the one he has.
The same can be said for Gov. Bobby Jindal, for now anyway. His national star dimmed somewhat this year, but at least it didn't flame out, like those of now-former Republican presidential aspirants Sen. John Ensign of Nevada and Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, both politically destroyed by their recently exposed extra-marital affairs. Their falls are significant because both had recently eclipsed Jindal, following his dreadful nationally televised speech in February, especially dynamic fellow Southerner Sanford.
On another front, Jindal, doing nothing again, also looked good compared to Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who stunned Republicans and disturbed some too by announcing her resignation mid-term. She will make a fortune on the speaking circuit and can focus freely on a potential presidential bid, but some Republicans see her move as erratic and opportunistic.
It might seem like a low bar, but just by honoring his marriage and keeping his job, Bobby Jindal is looking better and better as a leader in the Republican Party.
Yet, unless things change drastically, he most likely is no rival to Palin for the presidential nomination in 2012, nor is he to others mentioned as top early contenders: Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee, Newt Gingrich, even Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.
The Louisiana governor, however, holds an important distinction compared to them all. Given Pawlenty's decision not to seek a third term in 2010, by then Jindal will be the only one of the above serving in public office. So much for the rap on him that he doesn't stay in any job for long. By 2012, seasoned by re-election, Jindal would make an attractive vice presidential candidate for any one of them.
Although he passed on being considered for the second spot on John McCain's ticket last year, next time will be different. If tapped, win or lose, he would be the party's likely frontrunner for 2016 or 2020, when he's 45 or 49.
Over the next three years, Jindal's star need not rise so much as just hold steady, while he stays prepared. Meanwhile, nobody's star is hitched so closely to his as is Landrieu's.
Before his announcement, the lieutenant governor said his decision would be based on where he could do the most good, in City Hall or the State Capitol. So we have his answer. Many hope that means he will challenge Jindal's re-election in 2011. Already he has assumed leadership of the Democratic opposition, criticizing the governor's funding cuts to education and healthcare and his refusal to consider tax increases.
Yet it's a stretch to see Landrieu taking his fight to Jindal on the ballot. Unless the governor is much less popular in two years than he is now, Landrieu's long-term, even short-term prospects lie with the unique office he holds.
In 2010, if Jindal (though he says he won't) challenges and defeats U.S. Sen. David Vitter, and then wins the general election, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2012 (assuming they are both re-elected), if Jindal is tapped to run for vice president, and the Republicans win, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2014, if Jindal, late in his second term, challenges U.S. Sen. Mary Landrieu—or she doesn't seek a fourth term—and he wins, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
If none of the above happens, in 2015, with Jindal leaving office, the political pendulum could well swing back to the Democrats. In which case, barring some upstart, at age 55, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
So, until then, why go anywhere? Patience and perseverance are not qualities ascribed to either man, but practicing such could get them both where they want to go.
Simply by staying still, the political stars of the state's top two elected leaders are on the rise.
Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu announced last week he would not run for mayor of New Orleans next year, opting to stay in Baton Rouge, closer to his ultimate goal. Good choice. Even if he were to be elected mayor, hardly assured, the office historically is a dead end for political careers, even if he were to succeed in bringing the city together, also hardly assured. For his future, the best job is the one he has.
The same can be said for Gov. Bobby Jindal, for now anyway. His national star dimmed somewhat this year, but at least it didn't flame out, like those of now-former Republican presidential aspirants Sen. John Ensign of Nevada and Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, both politically destroyed by their recently exposed extra-marital affairs. Their falls are significant because both had recently eclipsed Jindal, following his dreadful nationally televised speech in February, especially dynamic fellow Southerner Sanford.
On another front, Jindal, doing nothing again, also looked good compared to Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who stunned Republicans and disturbed some too by announcing her resignation mid-term. She will make a fortune on the speaking circuit and can focus freely on a potential presidential bid, but some Republicans see her move as erratic and opportunistic.
It might seem like a low bar, but just by honoring his marriage and keeping his job, Bobby Jindal is looking better and better as a leader in the Republican Party.
Yet, unless things change drastically, he most likely is no rival to Palin for the presidential nomination in 2012, nor is he to others mentioned as top early contenders: Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee, Newt Gingrich, even Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.
The Louisiana governor, however, holds an important distinction compared to them all. Given Pawlenty's decision not to seek a third term in 2010, by then Jindal will be the only one of the above serving in public office. So much for the rap on him that he doesn't stay in any job for long. By 2012, seasoned by re-election, Jindal would make an attractive vice presidential candidate for any one of them.
Although he passed on being considered for the second spot on John McCain's ticket last year, next time will be different. If tapped, win or lose, he would be the party's likely frontrunner for 2016 or 2020, when he's 45 or 49.
Over the next three years, Jindal's star need not rise so much as just hold steady, while he stays prepared. Meanwhile, nobody's star is hitched so closely to his as is Landrieu's.
Before his announcement, the lieutenant governor said his decision would be based on where he could do the most good, in City Hall or the State Capitol. So we have his answer. Many hope that means he will challenge Jindal's re-election in 2011. Already he has assumed leadership of the Democratic opposition, criticizing the governor's funding cuts to education and healthcare and his refusal to consider tax increases.
Yet it's a stretch to see Landrieu taking his fight to Jindal on the ballot. Unless the governor is much less popular in two years than he is now, Landrieu's long-term, even short-term prospects lie with the unique office he holds.
In 2010, if Jindal (though he says he won't) challenges and defeats U.S. Sen. David Vitter, and then wins the general election, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2012 (assuming they are both re-elected), if Jindal is tapped to run for vice president, and the Republicans win, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2014, if Jindal, late in his second term, challenges U.S. Sen. Mary Landrieu—or she doesn't seek a fourth term—and he wins, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
If none of the above happens, in 2015, with Jindal leaving office, the political pendulum could well swing back to the Democrats. In which case, barring some upstart, at age 55, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
So, until then, why go anywhere? Patience and perseverance are not qualities ascribed to either man, but practicing such could get them both where they want to go.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wit and Wisdom of the Louisiana Legislature
by John Maginnis
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Democrats Size Up Senate Race
JUNE 22, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Congressman Charlie Melancon has confirmed that he is actively considering challenging U.S. Sen. David Vitter for re-election next year. According to a statement from a campaign aide, the Democrat from Napoleonville is talking it all over with his wife and kids and plans to make an announcement in a few weeks.
Several political sources say he has been more definite with national Democratic campaign officials, telling them he plans to run.
While Melancon earlier this year seemed to have ruled out a Senate challenge, a renewed press by the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, armed with a poll showing Vitter's vulnerability, got the three-term congressman to reconsider.
Besides conferring with the family, a final piece of unfinished business for Melancon would be a sit-down with businessman and fellow Democrat Jim Bernhard, who also has considered running. A friend of the Shaw Group chairman said he has been at his North Carolina retreat for two weeks making his own final decision on the race.
Yet Bernhard has been mulling this over for a year or more, to the impatience of state and national Democrats seeking a formidable challenger. Melancon fills that bill as an experienced lawmaker, a strong fundraiser and a proven natural campaigner.
Another factor driving Melancon's final decision is the alternative: he faces a tough re-election in 2010 in a House district that might not exist after the 2011 reapportionment.
Rep. Nickie Monica, R-LaPlace, is expected to announce his campaign for Congress in the 3rd District some time after the Legislature adjourns this week. Monica says he's been getting encouragement from business people and conservatives unhappy with the congressman's votes for the federal stimulus package and President Obama's first budget.
Beyond that, with the state likely to lose a congressional district after the next census, the 3rd, in the bayou region, could be cut up among other south Louisiana districts. Even if the 3rd remains intact, it stands to lose many of its African-American voters in the river parishes--Melancon's base--in order to maintain a minority district based in New Orleans.
Even if polls show Vitter, recovering from his sex scandal, having electability problems, a Democrat running for the Senate in the South in 2010 would have his own. Vitter has emerged as the principled opponent of nearly every Obama administration policy so far. He would try to tie Melancon to national Democrats' quest for a filibuster-proof 60-seat Senate majority.
A leader of the moderate Blue Dog caucus in the House, Melancon would need to create some separation between himself and the liberal Democratic leadership. But he has left his flank exposed on an issue crucial to business interests. He will have to answer for his sponsorship of the Employee Free Choice Act, also known as card check, which would allow labor unions to organize workplaces through signed petitions instead of secret-ballot elections.
Vitter already is highlighting his virulent opposition to the legislation. National business groups plan to spend millions hammering away at the issue. By when they're through, card check will sound worse than adultery.
Republicans want to make this an election about national issues instead of a personal referendum on Vitter. Rather than a Blue Dog, critics already paint Melancon as a lapdog for House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. The GOP will warn that Melancon, if elected, will fall in behind the president and Senate Democrats on sweeping energy and healthcare legislation.
Which is why some local Democrats are hesitant to push Bernhard aside. His profile as a civic-minded, successful entrepreneur and his lack of a voting record would make him appealing to voters across the board and a moving target for GOP attacks. That independent streak, however, is problematic for Senate leaders not interested in dealing with a Democrat in name only.
Until the two Democratic heavyweights meet and emerge with one holding the other's fist up high, this race is not yet set.
Nor is it on the Republican side. Though Vitter is working to close party ranks, an attractive primary challenger to the incumbent could turn this election upside down, upsetting best-laid plans all around.
Should that come to pass, what an irony and a bummer it would be for Democrats to agree on the candidate they want, only to lose the opponent they need.
Congressman Charlie Melancon has confirmed that he is actively considering challenging U.S. Sen. David Vitter for re-election next year. According to a statement from a campaign aide, the Democrat from Napoleonville is talking it all over with his wife and kids and plans to make an announcement in a few weeks.
Several political sources say he has been more definite with national Democratic campaign officials, telling them he plans to run.
While Melancon earlier this year seemed to have ruled out a Senate challenge, a renewed press by the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, armed with a poll showing Vitter's vulnerability, got the three-term congressman to reconsider.
Besides conferring with the family, a final piece of unfinished business for Melancon would be a sit-down with businessman and fellow Democrat Jim Bernhard, who also has considered running. A friend of the Shaw Group chairman said he has been at his North Carolina retreat for two weeks making his own final decision on the race.
Yet Bernhard has been mulling this over for a year or more, to the impatience of state and national Democrats seeking a formidable challenger. Melancon fills that bill as an experienced lawmaker, a strong fundraiser and a proven natural campaigner.
Another factor driving Melancon's final decision is the alternative: he faces a tough re-election in 2010 in a House district that might not exist after the 2011 reapportionment.
Rep. Nickie Monica, R-LaPlace, is expected to announce his campaign for Congress in the 3rd District some time after the Legislature adjourns this week. Monica says he's been getting encouragement from business people and conservatives unhappy with the congressman's votes for the federal stimulus package and President Obama's first budget.
Beyond that, with the state likely to lose a congressional district after the next census, the 3rd, in the bayou region, could be cut up among other south Louisiana districts. Even if the 3rd remains intact, it stands to lose many of its African-American voters in the river parishes--Melancon's base--in order to maintain a minority district based in New Orleans.
Even if polls show Vitter, recovering from his sex scandal, having electability problems, a Democrat running for the Senate in the South in 2010 would have his own. Vitter has emerged as the principled opponent of nearly every Obama administration policy so far. He would try to tie Melancon to national Democrats' quest for a filibuster-proof 60-seat Senate majority.
A leader of the moderate Blue Dog caucus in the House, Melancon would need to create some separation between himself and the liberal Democratic leadership. But he has left his flank exposed on an issue crucial to business interests. He will have to answer for his sponsorship of the Employee Free Choice Act, also known as card check, which would allow labor unions to organize workplaces through signed petitions instead of secret-ballot elections.
Vitter already is highlighting his virulent opposition to the legislation. National business groups plan to spend millions hammering away at the issue. By when they're through, card check will sound worse than adultery.
Republicans want to make this an election about national issues instead of a personal referendum on Vitter. Rather than a Blue Dog, critics already paint Melancon as a lapdog for House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. The GOP will warn that Melancon, if elected, will fall in behind the president and Senate Democrats on sweeping energy and healthcare legislation.
Which is why some local Democrats are hesitant to push Bernhard aside. His profile as a civic-minded, successful entrepreneur and his lack of a voting record would make him appealing to voters across the board and a moving target for GOP attacks. That independent streak, however, is problematic for Senate leaders not interested in dealing with a Democrat in name only.
Until the two Democratic heavyweights meet and emerge with one holding the other's fist up high, this race is not yet set.
Nor is it on the Republican side. Though Vitter is working to close party ranks, an attractive primary challenger to the incumbent could turn this election upside down, upsetting best-laid plans all around.
Should that come to pass, what an irony and a bummer it would be for Democrats to agree on the candidate they want, only to lose the opponent they need.
Roemers Challenge Jindal to Lead
JUNE 15, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
By now, Gov. Bobby Jindal has about had his fill of the Roemer clan. The governor's past week started and ended with members of that political family challenging his leadership on education, high school and higher.
The big event, of course, was the extraordinary news conference at which Buddy Roemer and three other former governors--Dave Treen, Mike Foster and Kathleen Blanco--urged the sitting governor to restore funding cuts to higher education. It was an awkward if not excruciating moment for Jindal, but it beat the alternative. According to a source knowledgeable with the events, the governor's predecessors almost went public without him, which would have been a very serious rebuke.
Roemer, distressed by Jindal's proposed budget cuts, had enlisted his three colleagues in making a joint statement of concern. Jindal got wind of the cabal and quickly arranged a meeting, and also invited the Fosters for dinner at the Mansion the night before.
After the five met Thursday morning, Jindal opened the press conference by stressing their points of agreement. He committed to reducing state support for higher education by no more than 10 percent, not the 15 percent in his original budget.
The governor then introduced Roemer, who grasped the lectern and promptly took over the tour de force. He related how the former governors "got anxious over this past year about the priority given to higher education" and began trading ideas for a joint statement. "It was so much fun," he said.
Not for Jindal, standing by and politely enduring Roemer's remarks, now rolling off that silver tongue. "Scrub, not slash," he admonished Jindal. "What we need is leadership."
Roemer then introduced his colleagues, noting their singular contributions to higher ed, especially Foster's: "When Mike Foster talks about education, I listen." Hint.
Foster acknowledged that spending cuts must come, but that the governors counseled "slowing down the train a bit."
Lone Democrat Blanco was not as conciliatory. "You can't do more with less," she lectured, "You do less with less," warning against a "drive to mediocrity."
This may have been a Buddy Roemer production, but Foster's presence made the foursome and also forced Jindal's hand. Their new relationship got off to a bad start at the inauguration when Jindal, with his former boss seated behind him, lamented "decades of failure in government" and "leaders who were unconcerned with the future."
Now it was Jindal being taken to task by his elders for his stewardship of higher education, the state's future. In the end, though, Foster gave Jindal cover when he spoke up to say they were "all on the same page" backing Jindal's commitment to only cut higher ed by 10 percent.
Actually, Jindal conceded nothing more than his recently expressed willingness to restore about $70 million to university budgets, amounting to a 10 percent reduction.
Yet, the past governors' broader concerns seemed to be for Jindal's leadership. His idea for a long-term plan has been to badger university leaders to come up with one. After a week of that, Jindal should have put forward his own proposal. Instead, Speaker of the House Jim Tucker did, getting the Legislature to form a commission, including out-of-state experts, to report back next year on how to reorganize the university system.
But back to the show. Roemer, relishing his gubernatorial moment, concluded by honoring the better half of his tag team.
"I want to thank my son Chas," he said, recalling how the young man recently challenged him to "spend less time making money and to give something back."
Jindal must have curdled inside, reminded that a few days earlier Chas Roemer, a member of the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education, released a blistering statement that criticized the governor for supporting the alternative high school diploma legislation, which he said would give false hope to struggling students.
Young Roemer charged that politics is keeping Jindal from tackling fundamental education problems that are holding the state back. "To take on issues that matter would mean to risk some political capital--something this administration seems unwilling to do," he said.
Old governors will tell you that the chief executive who fails to demonstrate strong leadership on an issue will be challenged for it. A brash young Buddy Roemer thrived on calling out the political leadership of his day, a course the next generation seems destined to follow.
By now, Gov. Bobby Jindal has about had his fill of the Roemer clan. The governor's past week started and ended with members of that political family challenging his leadership on education, high school and higher.
The big event, of course, was the extraordinary news conference at which Buddy Roemer and three other former governors--Dave Treen, Mike Foster and Kathleen Blanco--urged the sitting governor to restore funding cuts to higher education. It was an awkward if not excruciating moment for Jindal, but it beat the alternative. According to a source knowledgeable with the events, the governor's predecessors almost went public without him, which would have been a very serious rebuke.
Roemer, distressed by Jindal's proposed budget cuts, had enlisted his three colleagues in making a joint statement of concern. Jindal got wind of the cabal and quickly arranged a meeting, and also invited the Fosters for dinner at the Mansion the night before.
After the five met Thursday morning, Jindal opened the press conference by stressing their points of agreement. He committed to reducing state support for higher education by no more than 10 percent, not the 15 percent in his original budget.
The governor then introduced Roemer, who grasped the lectern and promptly took over the tour de force. He related how the former governors "got anxious over this past year about the priority given to higher education" and began trading ideas for a joint statement. "It was so much fun," he said.
Not for Jindal, standing by and politely enduring Roemer's remarks, now rolling off that silver tongue. "Scrub, not slash," he admonished Jindal. "What we need is leadership."
Roemer then introduced his colleagues, noting their singular contributions to higher ed, especially Foster's: "When Mike Foster talks about education, I listen." Hint.
Foster acknowledged that spending cuts must come, but that the governors counseled "slowing down the train a bit."
Lone Democrat Blanco was not as conciliatory. "You can't do more with less," she lectured, "You do less with less," warning against a "drive to mediocrity."
This may have been a Buddy Roemer production, but Foster's presence made the foursome and also forced Jindal's hand. Their new relationship got off to a bad start at the inauguration when Jindal, with his former boss seated behind him, lamented "decades of failure in government" and "leaders who were unconcerned with the future."
Now it was Jindal being taken to task by his elders for his stewardship of higher education, the state's future. In the end, though, Foster gave Jindal cover when he spoke up to say they were "all on the same page" backing Jindal's commitment to only cut higher ed by 10 percent.
Actually, Jindal conceded nothing more than his recently expressed willingness to restore about $70 million to university budgets, amounting to a 10 percent reduction.
Yet, the past governors' broader concerns seemed to be for Jindal's leadership. His idea for a long-term plan has been to badger university leaders to come up with one. After a week of that, Jindal should have put forward his own proposal. Instead, Speaker of the House Jim Tucker did, getting the Legislature to form a commission, including out-of-state experts, to report back next year on how to reorganize the university system.
But back to the show. Roemer, relishing his gubernatorial moment, concluded by honoring the better half of his tag team.
"I want to thank my son Chas," he said, recalling how the young man recently challenged him to "spend less time making money and to give something back."
Jindal must have curdled inside, reminded that a few days earlier Chas Roemer, a member of the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education, released a blistering statement that criticized the governor for supporting the alternative high school diploma legislation, which he said would give false hope to struggling students.
Young Roemer charged that politics is keeping Jindal from tackling fundamental education problems that are holding the state back. "To take on issues that matter would mean to risk some political capital--something this administration seems unwilling to do," he said.
Old governors will tell you that the chief executive who fails to demonstrate strong leadership on an issue will be challenged for it. A brash young Buddy Roemer thrived on calling out the political leadership of his day, a course the next generation seems destined to follow.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
LSU Struggles with Hospital Power Plays
JUNE 8, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Providing tickets for legislators to purchase for the national collegiate baseball tournament series at LSU last weekend was the least that school officials could do, given how much tumult, hostility and fear the university's issues have caused at the Capitol this spring.
The flagship's budget woes, leading those of all higher education, have been a source of rancor and tension between lawmakers and the administration. On top of that, an intense power struggle over the size, site and control of LSU's proposed teaching hospital and medical center in New Orleans has landed in the middle of the legislative session. With it comes the renewed bitter rivalry between LSU and Tulane, marked by some condescending statements about the city from the LSU president, veiled threats that the medical school might pull up stakes and an old-fashioned hallway shouting match between the state treasurer and a school official.
The controversy might be worth the unpleasantness if it had something to do with shaping the future of public healthcare and hospitals in Louisiana, but the state overall seems headed in the opposite direction from what it's trying to do in New Orleans. Yet, at $1.2 billion, the fate of the project commands the interest of legislators statewide.
LSU's proposal to build alongside a planned Veterans Administration hospital on a 70-block tract in the middle of the city is opposed by preservationists, some doctors and community groups that want it to rebuild the old hospital, which they argue is the faster, cheaper alternative for restoring a vital health asset. Supportive of their cause is Tulane University, whose medical center would be left isolated downtown if LSU and the VA relocated across elevated Interstate 10.
LSU officials are adamant it will not re-occupy the old building as long as it is responsible for public healthcare in New Orleans. That could change with passage of legislation by Speaker of the House Jim Tucker, R-Algiers, which would remove LSU from control of the medical complex and turn that over to an independent board of community stakeholders, including all local universities involved in medical education.
Tucker says he is not opposed to the new hospital complex, but wants LSU to stick to running its medical education program. He gets quiet support on that score from within the LSU community, where there are those who believe its healthcare responsibilities detract from its higher education mission.
Gov. Bobby Jindal supports the medical complex, but says he would sign Tucker's bill if it passes. What the governor really wants, he says, is for LSU to agree to have Tulane and other schools represented on the board of the non-profit governing corporation still to be formed. LSU, at first strongly opposed to power-sharing with Tulane, is becoming more amenable under pressure. If the two schools reach some accord, even at the point of the governor's shotgun, the larger challenge would be reaching a hurricane damage settlement on the old building with FEMA and selling Wall Street on its financial plan--some very big ifs.
That might leave the preservationists feeling jilted, but state and school officials agree that the iconic 1939 structure will be saved and put to new use.
The plan for the new medical complex, given its broad economic development potential, might sound like the future of public healthcare in Louisiana, but it more likely will be the last hospital the state ever builds. LSU has given up on erecting a new hospital in Baton Rouge and instead is forging a partnership with Our Lady of the Lake to train doctors and provide indigent care. The Jindal administration envisions gradually doing the same in other parts of the state. Except in Shreveport, where the high-quality University Medical Center is the model that LSU hopes to emulate in New Orleans.
The state's most forward-looking public hospital--which is ironic, given its original name, Confederate Memorial--trains LSU doctors, treats both private-pay patients and the uninsured, and turns a profit. It also is to its city what LSU had better learn to be in New Orleans, a responsive and respected member of the community.
Providing tickets for legislators to purchase for the national collegiate baseball tournament series at LSU last weekend was the least that school officials could do, given how much tumult, hostility and fear the university's issues have caused at the Capitol this spring.
The flagship's budget woes, leading those of all higher education, have been a source of rancor and tension between lawmakers and the administration. On top of that, an intense power struggle over the size, site and control of LSU's proposed teaching hospital and medical center in New Orleans has landed in the middle of the legislative session. With it comes the renewed bitter rivalry between LSU and Tulane, marked by some condescending statements about the city from the LSU president, veiled threats that the medical school might pull up stakes and an old-fashioned hallway shouting match between the state treasurer and a school official.
The controversy might be worth the unpleasantness if it had something to do with shaping the future of public healthcare and hospitals in Louisiana, but the state overall seems headed in the opposite direction from what it's trying to do in New Orleans. Yet, at $1.2 billion, the fate of the project commands the interest of legislators statewide.
LSU's proposal to build alongside a planned Veterans Administration hospital on a 70-block tract in the middle of the city is opposed by preservationists, some doctors and community groups that want it to rebuild the old hospital, which they argue is the faster, cheaper alternative for restoring a vital health asset. Supportive of their cause is Tulane University, whose medical center would be left isolated downtown if LSU and the VA relocated across elevated Interstate 10.
LSU officials are adamant it will not re-occupy the old building as long as it is responsible for public healthcare in New Orleans. That could change with passage of legislation by Speaker of the House Jim Tucker, R-Algiers, which would remove LSU from control of the medical complex and turn that over to an independent board of community stakeholders, including all local universities involved in medical education.
Tucker says he is not opposed to the new hospital complex, but wants LSU to stick to running its medical education program. He gets quiet support on that score from within the LSU community, where there are those who believe its healthcare responsibilities detract from its higher education mission.
Gov. Bobby Jindal supports the medical complex, but says he would sign Tucker's bill if it passes. What the governor really wants, he says, is for LSU to agree to have Tulane and other schools represented on the board of the non-profit governing corporation still to be formed. LSU, at first strongly opposed to power-sharing with Tulane, is becoming more amenable under pressure. If the two schools reach some accord, even at the point of the governor's shotgun, the larger challenge would be reaching a hurricane damage settlement on the old building with FEMA and selling Wall Street on its financial plan--some very big ifs.
That might leave the preservationists feeling jilted, but state and school officials agree that the iconic 1939 structure will be saved and put to new use.
The plan for the new medical complex, given its broad economic development potential, might sound like the future of public healthcare in Louisiana, but it more likely will be the last hospital the state ever builds. LSU has given up on erecting a new hospital in Baton Rouge and instead is forging a partnership with Our Lady of the Lake to train doctors and provide indigent care. The Jindal administration envisions gradually doing the same in other parts of the state. Except in Shreveport, where the high-quality University Medical Center is the model that LSU hopes to emulate in New Orleans.
The state's most forward-looking public hospital--which is ironic, given its original name, Confederate Memorial--trains LSU doctors, treats both private-pay patients and the uninsured, and turns a profit. It also is to its city what LSU had better learn to be in New Orleans, a responsive and respected member of the community.
Vitter Haunts Dardenne's Election Bill
JUNE 1, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Call him paranoid, but Sen. David Vitter is taking no chances with any change in the law that could threaten his re-election next year--that is, more than he already has threatened it by his past association with an escort service in Washington, D.C.
The junior senator's acute sense of survival drew his attention to a seemingly harmless legislative bill concerning minor political parties that was offered by Secretary of State Jay Dardenne. While the bill, on its surface, had no effect on his candidacy, Vitter and Republican supporters approached it like it was the first skirmish of next year's election. For those keeping score, he won.
Dardenne was trying to avert an unforeseen consequence of the state's return to party primaries in congressional elections. His office crafted a bill that, in effect, would require the state to conduct primary elections for only the two major parties and not for the three other officially recognized but minor parties: Libertarian, Green and Reform. Combined they have about 5,000 members statewide.
Say, for example, a power struggle breaks out in the Libertarian Party, and two of its members decide to run for the U.S. Senate. Assuming multiple Democrats and Republicans ran, the ballot would list candidates under three separate party primaries. Trouble is, the state has invested in new computerized voting machines that only display two sets of primaries. Dardenne estimates it would cost $38 million to reprogram all the voting machines and to train voting commissioners on the lockout procedures, which, even as they now stand, proved to be confusing to voters and commissioners in last fall's elections.
Rather than go through all that, under the proposed law, if two minor party rivals could not settle their differences beforehand, both their names would appear on the general election ballot in November.
Enter Sen. Vitter, who cares not a whit about Secretary Dardenne's software concerns but seemed leery of his ulterior motives. Dardenne has said he is considering challenging Vitter in next year's Republican primary. According to the bill's sponsor, Rep. Wayne Waddell, R-Shreveport, Vitter called him a half dozen times to express concern that Dardenne would later try to have the bill amended to allow independents to vote in either party's primary. That would not suit the senator at all.
When the Legislature reinstated party primaries for congressional elections, it let the parties’ governing bodies determine which voters could participate in each. The Democrats opened their primary to independent voters, those unaffiliated with either party, while Republicans closed theirs to members only.
Vitter much prefers a closed GOP primary, because that would not give pesky independents the opportunity to vote against him should Dardenne or some other Republican challenge him.
Rep. Waddell wasn't the only one Vitter called. After the author and Dardenne explained the bill to the House & Governmental Affairs Committee and pledged to entertain no amendments, Rep. Noble Ellington, D-Winnsboro, said he had received phone calls from individuals he did not name who were still concerned about the legislation.
That got a rise from assistant secretary Tom Schedler, who said no one contacted him or Dardenne about the bill. "We cannot respond to a ghost," said Schedler. "Let the ghost call me."
Ellington said he was satisfied with Dardenne's explanation, but asked to delay voting on the bill, saying, "It would give me some time to talk to the ghost. . . . It's a big ghost."
The delay was granted, but the damage was done. Spooked Republicans may have trusted Dardenne, but they have seen enough slippery maneuvers in this session--"rookiedoos," in legislative parlance--to be wary of what could happen to the bill once it left the committee.
Democrats on the committee, perhaps delighting in the GOP squabble, seized the opportunity to defend the voting rights of the minor parties. The following week, the bill was deferred and is presumed dead.
Vitter and the status quo prevailed. Dardenne didn't exactly lose, but now that he has drawn attention to the possibility of a minor party primary, it is ever more likely he will have to conduct one next year.
Call him paranoid, but Sen. David Vitter is taking no chances with any change in the law that could threaten his re-election next year--that is, more than he already has threatened it by his past association with an escort service in Washington, D.C.
The junior senator's acute sense of survival drew his attention to a seemingly harmless legislative bill concerning minor political parties that was offered by Secretary of State Jay Dardenne. While the bill, on its surface, had no effect on his candidacy, Vitter and Republican supporters approached it like it was the first skirmish of next year's election. For those keeping score, he won.
Dardenne was trying to avert an unforeseen consequence of the state's return to party primaries in congressional elections. His office crafted a bill that, in effect, would require the state to conduct primary elections for only the two major parties and not for the three other officially recognized but minor parties: Libertarian, Green and Reform. Combined they have about 5,000 members statewide.
Say, for example, a power struggle breaks out in the Libertarian Party, and two of its members decide to run for the U.S. Senate. Assuming multiple Democrats and Republicans ran, the ballot would list candidates under three separate party primaries. Trouble is, the state has invested in new computerized voting machines that only display two sets of primaries. Dardenne estimates it would cost $38 million to reprogram all the voting machines and to train voting commissioners on the lockout procedures, which, even as they now stand, proved to be confusing to voters and commissioners in last fall's elections.
Rather than go through all that, under the proposed law, if two minor party rivals could not settle their differences beforehand, both their names would appear on the general election ballot in November.
Enter Sen. Vitter, who cares not a whit about Secretary Dardenne's software concerns but seemed leery of his ulterior motives. Dardenne has said he is considering challenging Vitter in next year's Republican primary. According to the bill's sponsor, Rep. Wayne Waddell, R-Shreveport, Vitter called him a half dozen times to express concern that Dardenne would later try to have the bill amended to allow independents to vote in either party's primary. That would not suit the senator at all.
When the Legislature reinstated party primaries for congressional elections, it let the parties’ governing bodies determine which voters could participate in each. The Democrats opened their primary to independent voters, those unaffiliated with either party, while Republicans closed theirs to members only.
Vitter much prefers a closed GOP primary, because that would not give pesky independents the opportunity to vote against him should Dardenne or some other Republican challenge him.
Rep. Waddell wasn't the only one Vitter called. After the author and Dardenne explained the bill to the House & Governmental Affairs Committee and pledged to entertain no amendments, Rep. Noble Ellington, D-Winnsboro, said he had received phone calls from individuals he did not name who were still concerned about the legislation.
That got a rise from assistant secretary Tom Schedler, who said no one contacted him or Dardenne about the bill. "We cannot respond to a ghost," said Schedler. "Let the ghost call me."
Ellington said he was satisfied with Dardenne's explanation, but asked to delay voting on the bill, saying, "It would give me some time to talk to the ghost. . . . It's a big ghost."
The delay was granted, but the damage was done. Spooked Republicans may have trusted Dardenne, but they have seen enough slippery maneuvers in this session--"rookiedoos," in legislative parlance--to be wary of what could happen to the bill once it left the committee.
Democrats on the committee, perhaps delighting in the GOP squabble, seized the opportunity to defend the voting rights of the minor parties. The following week, the bill was deferred and is presumed dead.
Vitter and the status quo prevailed. Dardenne didn't exactly lose, but now that he has drawn attention to the possibility of a minor party primary, it is ever more likely he will have to conduct one next year.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Legislators, Educators Clash on Solutions
MAY 18, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Preparing for the legislative session, state Education Superintendent Paul Pastorek concluded that the biggest problem facing public schools was parish school boards. Its members served too long, were paid too much and meddled in day-to-day matters that should be left to parish superintendents.
To change all that, he got behind a package of legislative bills to impose term limits on school board members, to restrict their pay to $50 per meeting and to prohibit them from trying to influence administrators' hiring and firing decisions.
A couple of North Louisiana legislators had a different view of the most pressing problem with education, the same that has plagued Louisiana for decades: that nearly 40 percent of high schoolers drop out or fail to graduate within four years.
Rep. Jim Fannin, D-Jonesboro, and Sen. Bob Kostelka, R-Monroe, came up with a not-so-new solution, an alternative curriculum track that would focus more on vocational training instead of college preparatory courses and thus would encourage struggling students to stay in school.
But the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education at first opposed the career track plan because it relaxed promotion requirements and watered down course work so as to not meaningfully prepare students for work or life.
Supporters of both approaches, one to crack down on school boards and the other to ease up on potential dropouts, set off to the Capitol to make their cases.
There, not so surprisingly, the Pastorek plan quickly ran into trouble. The term-limits bill was squashed in committee and the pay-cut proposal was deemed dead on arrival. The so-called micromanagement bill has had trouble getting a full hearing and faces stout opposition from school boards.
Meanwhile, identical House and Senate anti-dropout bills have struck a chord with lawmakers and are breezing through both bodies. They even gained the qualified support of BESE and Pastorek by requiring four years of both English and math.
But the big sticking point remains that the bills lower the LEAP test threshold for eighth graders to advance to the ninth grade and to enter the career diploma track. Instead of meeting the current promotion requirement of scoring "basic" in either English or math and "approaching basic" on the other, career track students would only have to achieve "approaching basic" on either. That means, as ninth graders, they could almost read or almost do math.
BESE members fear, rightly so, that the relaxed eighth-grade standard would wreck the hard-won accountability system by taking pressure off of students, teachers and parents after the fourth-grade LEAP test. In effect, remediation of many struggling students would end and the informal career-tracking of them would begin in the fifth grade. That's way too early to give up on the prospects of kids going to college.
If an acceptable compromise can be reached on standards for promotion, most BESE members could support the legislators' plan for reducing dropouts. Especially since it would not be that different from anti-dropout policies that the state has in place today.
There is a law on the books, largely ignored, requiring local school districts to develop a five-year curriculum plan, whether career-based or college prep, for every student.
The state also has developed a highly successful dropout prevention program called Jobs for America's Graduates, which is heavy on remediation and which partners with businesses to give students work experience while completing high school. JAG has a 90 percent graduation rate, but only 13 of 70 school districts offer it throughout the high school grades.
The state can develop anti-dropout and career option programs and make some funds available, but it is up to local school boards to make them happen.
"If every district were doing what they should be doing for the last ten years, we wouldn't be here," says BESE member Penny Dastugue. Even the Kostelka-Fannin bills allow school boards to opt out of the career diploma plan.
If school boards don't put the effort and resources into dropout intervention, there is not a lot BESE and the Legislature can do. So perhaps instead of the Legislature setting education policy, it should let BESE do that, while--coming full circle--it should also insist that local school boards do their jobs and not meddle with those of their superintendents.
Preparing for the legislative session, state Education Superintendent Paul Pastorek concluded that the biggest problem facing public schools was parish school boards. Its members served too long, were paid too much and meddled in day-to-day matters that should be left to parish superintendents.
To change all that, he got behind a package of legislative bills to impose term limits on school board members, to restrict their pay to $50 per meeting and to prohibit them from trying to influence administrators' hiring and firing decisions.
A couple of North Louisiana legislators had a different view of the most pressing problem with education, the same that has plagued Louisiana for decades: that nearly 40 percent of high schoolers drop out or fail to graduate within four years.
Rep. Jim Fannin, D-Jonesboro, and Sen. Bob Kostelka, R-Monroe, came up with a not-so-new solution, an alternative curriculum track that would focus more on vocational training instead of college preparatory courses and thus would encourage struggling students to stay in school.
But the Board of Elementary and Secondary Education at first opposed the career track plan because it relaxed promotion requirements and watered down course work so as to not meaningfully prepare students for work or life.
Supporters of both approaches, one to crack down on school boards and the other to ease up on potential dropouts, set off to the Capitol to make their cases.
There, not so surprisingly, the Pastorek plan quickly ran into trouble. The term-limits bill was squashed in committee and the pay-cut proposal was deemed dead on arrival. The so-called micromanagement bill has had trouble getting a full hearing and faces stout opposition from school boards.
Meanwhile, identical House and Senate anti-dropout bills have struck a chord with lawmakers and are breezing through both bodies. They even gained the qualified support of BESE and Pastorek by requiring four years of both English and math.
But the big sticking point remains that the bills lower the LEAP test threshold for eighth graders to advance to the ninth grade and to enter the career diploma track. Instead of meeting the current promotion requirement of scoring "basic" in either English or math and "approaching basic" on the other, career track students would only have to achieve "approaching basic" on either. That means, as ninth graders, they could almost read or almost do math.
BESE members fear, rightly so, that the relaxed eighth-grade standard would wreck the hard-won accountability system by taking pressure off of students, teachers and parents after the fourth-grade LEAP test. In effect, remediation of many struggling students would end and the informal career-tracking of them would begin in the fifth grade. That's way too early to give up on the prospects of kids going to college.
If an acceptable compromise can be reached on standards for promotion, most BESE members could support the legislators' plan for reducing dropouts. Especially since it would not be that different from anti-dropout policies that the state has in place today.
There is a law on the books, largely ignored, requiring local school districts to develop a five-year curriculum plan, whether career-based or college prep, for every student.
The state also has developed a highly successful dropout prevention program called Jobs for America's Graduates, which is heavy on remediation and which partners with businesses to give students work experience while completing high school. JAG has a 90 percent graduation rate, but only 13 of 70 school districts offer it throughout the high school grades.
The state can develop anti-dropout and career option programs and make some funds available, but it is up to local school boards to make them happen.
"If every district were doing what they should be doing for the last ten years, we wouldn't be here," says BESE member Penny Dastugue. Even the Kostelka-Fannin bills allow school boards to opt out of the career diploma plan.
If school boards don't put the effort and resources into dropout intervention, there is not a lot BESE and the Legislature can do. So perhaps instead of the Legislature setting education policy, it should let BESE do that, while--coming full circle--it should also insist that local school boards do their jobs and not meddle with those of their superintendents.
Friday, May 15, 2009
What Payback? Jindal Gets His Way
MAY 11, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Oh, the world of hurt Bobby Jindal was supposed to be in by now.
A month ago, his constant coast-to-coast fundraising was straining the patience of even his friends, who wished aloud that he were spending more time at home dealing with the state's problems. And there were plenty of those, mostly linked to a gaping budget deficit, which promised to make his first legislative fiscal session a miserable one. Add to that, lawmakers, still harboring grudges for his vetoes of their pay raise and scores of local projects last year, were said to be lying in wait for payback.
It looked like an ominous session indeed for the governor, until it began, when the scene at the Capitol snapped back to the old reality. In the first two weeks, the governor's staff efficiently snuffed out or sidetracked bills the administration opposed, advanced ones it liked and easily fended off legislators' initial budget raids on his economic development mega fund.
He also demonstrated a grasp for the art of the deal by proposing creative terms for a new long-term contract with the New Orleans Saints while at the same time pushing approval of spending $50 million to save a chicken processing plant in Northeast Louisiana. The two are not connected, but politically they are wed, with regional support for each neutralizing opposition to the other. The unspoken linkage of the two makes for a pretty slick deal, worthy of Edwin Edwards, and it's even legal.
What did Jindal do to reassert his influence and authority over a resentful Legislature? Why, he showed up, which is pretty much all that's needed in a political system that affords so much power to a governor when he acts like one.
Democrats outnumber his Republicans, especially in the Senate, but partisanship has yet to come into play in this session. The most direct challenge to Gov. Jindal's fiscal policy, the proposed cigarette tax to restore healthcare cuts, has not unified Democrats.
They will band together more to challenge his refusal to accept $98 million in added unemployment benefits from the federal stimulus package, but supporters concede it won't be enough to overcome his promised veto.
The issue that is causing Jindal the most trouble, at least in the public prints, comes at the hands of two Republicans. He has strongly opposed identical bills by Rep. Wayne Waddell of Shreveport and Sen. Robert Adley of Benton to make public more records in the governor's office, which is currently rated among the least transparent in the nation.
The governor's broad exemption from the public records act predates Jindal, but it perfectly suits his control personality that is reflected in his protective, insular staff.
Legislators and his contributors learned quickly not to expect return phone calls from the governor. He talks to people when he needs them, not the other way around.
Formalizing any more access to his office is not in his interest. The legal contortions New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin is going through fighting the release of his schedule and e-mail probably makes the governor all the more careful to not let down his public records shield.
Now if legislators were truly seeking revenge for Jindal's veto of their payraise, they would pass a public records law opening up his office like a sardine can.
That they haven't suggests the notion of veto payback is vastly overstated. Legislators may still resent his nixing their raises, but some concede he did them a favor. What if they were pulling down $50,000+ in total compensation while considering big budget cuts that would force layoffs in higher education and healthcare? Half of them would be facing recall petitions and harboring little hope of re-election. The mistake he and they both made was in forming their secret pact, which intense public anger, acting as a force majeure, nullified.
Lawmakers might still pass a public records bill Jindal doesn't like, or find some other vote on which to stick him. But most of them, when it gets right down to it, want to stay in the governor's good graces, even if he ignores them most of the time.
Oh, the world of hurt Bobby Jindal was supposed to be in by now.
A month ago, his constant coast-to-coast fundraising was straining the patience of even his friends, who wished aloud that he were spending more time at home dealing with the state's problems. And there were plenty of those, mostly linked to a gaping budget deficit, which promised to make his first legislative fiscal session a miserable one. Add to that, lawmakers, still harboring grudges for his vetoes of their pay raise and scores of local projects last year, were said to be lying in wait for payback.
It looked like an ominous session indeed for the governor, until it began, when the scene at the Capitol snapped back to the old reality. In the first two weeks, the governor's staff efficiently snuffed out or sidetracked bills the administration opposed, advanced ones it liked and easily fended off legislators' initial budget raids on his economic development mega fund.
He also demonstrated a grasp for the art of the deal by proposing creative terms for a new long-term contract with the New Orleans Saints while at the same time pushing approval of spending $50 million to save a chicken processing plant in Northeast Louisiana. The two are not connected, but politically they are wed, with regional support for each neutralizing opposition to the other. The unspoken linkage of the two makes for a pretty slick deal, worthy of Edwin Edwards, and it's even legal.
What did Jindal do to reassert his influence and authority over a resentful Legislature? Why, he showed up, which is pretty much all that's needed in a political system that affords so much power to a governor when he acts like one.
Democrats outnumber his Republicans, especially in the Senate, but partisanship has yet to come into play in this session. The most direct challenge to Gov. Jindal's fiscal policy, the proposed cigarette tax to restore healthcare cuts, has not unified Democrats.
They will band together more to challenge his refusal to accept $98 million in added unemployment benefits from the federal stimulus package, but supporters concede it won't be enough to overcome his promised veto.
The issue that is causing Jindal the most trouble, at least in the public prints, comes at the hands of two Republicans. He has strongly opposed identical bills by Rep. Wayne Waddell of Shreveport and Sen. Robert Adley of Benton to make public more records in the governor's office, which is currently rated among the least transparent in the nation.
The governor's broad exemption from the public records act predates Jindal, but it perfectly suits his control personality that is reflected in his protective, insular staff.
Legislators and his contributors learned quickly not to expect return phone calls from the governor. He talks to people when he needs them, not the other way around.
Formalizing any more access to his office is not in his interest. The legal contortions New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin is going through fighting the release of his schedule and e-mail probably makes the governor all the more careful to not let down his public records shield.
Now if legislators were truly seeking revenge for Jindal's veto of their payraise, they would pass a public records law opening up his office like a sardine can.
That they haven't suggests the notion of veto payback is vastly overstated. Legislators may still resent his nixing their raises, but some concede he did them a favor. What if they were pulling down $50,000+ in total compensation while considering big budget cuts that would force layoffs in higher education and healthcare? Half of them would be facing recall petitions and harboring little hope of re-election. The mistake he and they both made was in forming their secret pact, which intense public anger, acting as a force majeure, nullified.
Lawmakers might still pass a public records bill Jindal doesn't like, or find some other vote on which to stick him. But most of them, when it gets right down to it, want to stay in the governor's good graces, even if he ignores them most of the time.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Proposed Laws to Touch Everyday Lives
MAY 4, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
When lawmakers meet in fiscal session every other year, they are supposed to focus almost entirely on budgetary matters. But this year that picture is so bleak and their chances of improving it much are so small that it's understandable there are an unusually high number of non-fiscal bills on a variety of subjects, including a batch that would touch everyday lives.
It bothers some that a government having trouble running its own business should be messing with anybody else's. Yet we all daily see people behaving in ways that are dangerous to themselves and others, and who could use Big Brother, if not their mama, keeping a closer eye on them.
This would include those who insist on the right to drive a motorcycle without a helmet, which was granted in a 1996 bill and then repealed in 2004. Rep. Jim Morris, R-Oil City, is back with legislation to allow motorcyclists 21 or older to ride with heads free in the wind. Opponents point out that drivers not very well insured would become a burden on society should they bust those heads open.
Beyond the financial responsibility question, the larger problem for the bill is that it flies in the face of good common sense. Such can be suspended by legislators if it is very important to the governor, as it was during Mike Foster's eight years without helmets. Gov. Bobby Jindal supports the bill to lift the ban again, but he doesn't seem to be leaning on legislators too hard to pass it, and so it probably won't be.
Not using a cell phone while driving also makes good common sense, but it will take passage of a bill by Rep. Austin Badon, D-New Orleans, to change that daily bad habit of hundreds of thousands of drivers. Last year, Badon's bill narrowly passed the House but failed in the Senate, and its prospects look no better this time.
It still ought to be law, even though any such ban would be spottily enforced at best. Law-abiding drivers would gravitate toward hands-free devices, or simply refrain, making them better able to watch out for those who aren't going to let some statute make them hang up.
Lawmakers did take a small step in the right direction last year by banning the sending or reading of text messages or e-mails while at the wheel. This would now include the new rage of twittering, the obsession of a growing number to post on-line the details of their lives every five minutes. That's not stopping more and more people from tweating in traffic--Going to the dentist!--but at least they are helpfully offering self-incriminating evidence.
Smoking while driving is not illegal, yet. Paranoid puffers might wonder, though, given government's relentless march to stamp out the practice in all public places. Now a bill by Rep. Gary Smith, D-Norco, seeks to take away one of the last refuges of smokers: the barroom. Yet, judging by key supporters of this bill, the concern is not about public health, but, rather, competition.
The restaurant industry complains that the 2006 law to make eating establishments smoke-free has put them at a competitive disadvantage to bars that serve some food, which were exempted. An alternative bill would allow smoking only in bars that serve no food, not even those scary-looking pickled eggs. But our liquor laws are confusing enough that it might be time to clear the air and tell the smokers to take it outside.
Probably no law enforcement device has modified public behavior more than cameras at traffic intersections that catch drivers running red lights. Most citizens wholeheartedly approve of the cameras, until they get caught, at which point many become civil libertarians, complaining about due process. Taking up their cause is Rep. Cedric Richmond, D-New Orleans, who has filed a bill to make cities and parishes turn off the cameras.
This bill has some vocal supporters, but likely not enough to make legislators empathize with lawbreakers caught in the act. Camera technology and the legal process might be improved, but driving behavior already has been, as I can self-attest. Traffic cameras might be the most effective law enforcement technology since fingerprinting, which is why legislators should keep their hands off.
When lawmakers meet in fiscal session every other year, they are supposed to focus almost entirely on budgetary matters. But this year that picture is so bleak and their chances of improving it much are so small that it's understandable there are an unusually high number of non-fiscal bills on a variety of subjects, including a batch that would touch everyday lives.
It bothers some that a government having trouble running its own business should be messing with anybody else's. Yet we all daily see people behaving in ways that are dangerous to themselves and others, and who could use Big Brother, if not their mama, keeping a closer eye on them.
This would include those who insist on the right to drive a motorcycle without a helmet, which was granted in a 1996 bill and then repealed in 2004. Rep. Jim Morris, R-Oil City, is back with legislation to allow motorcyclists 21 or older to ride with heads free in the wind. Opponents point out that drivers not very well insured would become a burden on society should they bust those heads open.
Beyond the financial responsibility question, the larger problem for the bill is that it flies in the face of good common sense. Such can be suspended by legislators if it is very important to the governor, as it was during Mike Foster's eight years without helmets. Gov. Bobby Jindal supports the bill to lift the ban again, but he doesn't seem to be leaning on legislators too hard to pass it, and so it probably won't be.
Not using a cell phone while driving also makes good common sense, but it will take passage of a bill by Rep. Austin Badon, D-New Orleans, to change that daily bad habit of hundreds of thousands of drivers. Last year, Badon's bill narrowly passed the House but failed in the Senate, and its prospects look no better this time.
It still ought to be law, even though any such ban would be spottily enforced at best. Law-abiding drivers would gravitate toward hands-free devices, or simply refrain, making them better able to watch out for those who aren't going to let some statute make them hang up.
Lawmakers did take a small step in the right direction last year by banning the sending or reading of text messages or e-mails while at the wheel. This would now include the new rage of twittering, the obsession of a growing number to post on-line the details of their lives every five minutes. That's not stopping more and more people from tweating in traffic--Going to the dentist!--but at least they are helpfully offering self-incriminating evidence.
Smoking while driving is not illegal, yet. Paranoid puffers might wonder, though, given government's relentless march to stamp out the practice in all public places. Now a bill by Rep. Gary Smith, D-Norco, seeks to take away one of the last refuges of smokers: the barroom. Yet, judging by key supporters of this bill, the concern is not about public health, but, rather, competition.
The restaurant industry complains that the 2006 law to make eating establishments smoke-free has put them at a competitive disadvantage to bars that serve some food, which were exempted. An alternative bill would allow smoking only in bars that serve no food, not even those scary-looking pickled eggs. But our liquor laws are confusing enough that it might be time to clear the air and tell the smokers to take it outside.
Probably no law enforcement device has modified public behavior more than cameras at traffic intersections that catch drivers running red lights. Most citizens wholeheartedly approve of the cameras, until they get caught, at which point many become civil libertarians, complaining about due process. Taking up their cause is Rep. Cedric Richmond, D-New Orleans, who has filed a bill to make cities and parishes turn off the cameras.
This bill has some vocal supporters, but likely not enough to make legislators empathize with lawbreakers caught in the act. Camera technology and the legal process might be improved, but driving behavior already has been, as I can self-attest. Traffic cameras might be the most effective law enforcement technology since fingerprinting, which is why legislators should keep their hands off.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Landrieu's Hard Choices to Make
APRIL 20, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Since Sen. Mary Landrieu's re-election in November, the two
issues she and her staff have heard the most about from
constituents are: card check and Jim Letten.
The former is shorthand for the Employee Free Choice Act, a
labor-backed bill in Congress that would enable unions to
organize workplaces through signed petitions instead of secret
ballot elections. Landrieu co-sponsored the bill last year
when it was clear it would not get the needed 60 votes. This
year, she has not taken a position, which has caused her
office to be bombarded from both sides.
But she and a handful of other moderate Democrats caught a
break when Sen. Arlen Specter, R-Pa., a crossover vote the
unions were counting on, announced he could not support the
bill. With supporters now two or three votes short, card check
is stalled if not dead, and Landrieu is off the hook for now.
That leaves Letten. Whether or not the senior senator
recommends that the president reappoint the Republican as U.S.
Attorney in the Eastern District is a matter of intense
interest beyond the New Orleans region.
For many, the career prosecutor has achieved folk hero
status as a corruption fighter, whose ultimate trophy was the
conviction of former Gov. Edwin Edwards for racketeering in
2000. Letten, then the first assistant, forcefully presented
the government's case at trial.
Letten's critics acknowledge his competence while
questioning his zeal to prosecute Democratic officials
primarily. At any rate, they feel that with a change of
administrations, it's time for a new U.S. Attorney, and they
expect Landrieu to recommend one.
Letten's most fervent supporters proclaim that without him,
that part of the state will return to its corrupt old ways-
-"the Louisiana way" as Letten famously dubbed it--and they
demand that Landrieu do the apolitical thing and ask the
president to keep him on the job. Leading that charge is Sen.
David Vitter, who has promised Landrieu a fight if she goes
with anyone but Letten.
Soon after the election, Landrieu said that she backed
Letten, but later stated that it was only fair that supporters
of other candidates get to make their cases.
Her decision could come as early as next week, according to
staff sources.
Part of why she has taken so long is that this is more than
about Letten. There are the U.S. Attorney posts in the Western
and Middle districts to fill, three new U.S. Marshals to name
and, as it works out, a vacant federal judgeship in each
district.
Some following this closely think Landrieu will make all or
most of her recommendations at once, which, either way she
goes with Letten, would dilute some of the controversy.
From some of the names mentioned as leading candidates,
Landrieu is putting a premium on diversity by race and gender.
In the Western District, both the U.S. Attorney and the new
judge might be African-Americans. Two female attorneys are
among those under consideration for the judgeship in the
Middle District, which has not had a woman judge before. State
Judge Jane Triche-Milazzo of Napoleonville is thought to be a
leading contender for the Eastern District judgeship.
For the prosecutor's job in the Eastern District, if it is
not to be Letten, the leading alternative mentioned is Brian
Jackson, an African-American career assistant U.S. Attorney,
who has served in New Orleans, Baton Rouge and Washington.
It might be politically easier for Landrieu to go with
Letten, but now that Vitter has made him his cause, she would
appear to be caving to her rival if she recommends
reappointment.
Landrieu knows that Letten's most vocal backers, those
convinced that no Democrat is fit to replace him, probably
didn't vote for her or the president, and never will. Many
others who favor Letten, but not so adamantly, also recognize
the president's right to appoint a fellow Democrat, especially
another career prosecutor with impeccable credentials.
Vitter can employ procedural moves against the confirmation
of a replacement, just as Landrieu blocked former President
Bush's appointment of U.S. Attorney David Dugas to the Middle
District judgeship. But assuming Landrieu's recommended choice
is qualified, sooner or later the junior senator will have to
come up with a better objection than that he or she is not Jim
Letten.
Since Sen. Mary Landrieu's re-election in November, the two
issues she and her staff have heard the most about from
constituents are: card check and Jim Letten.
The former is shorthand for the Employee Free Choice Act, a
labor-backed bill in Congress that would enable unions to
organize workplaces through signed petitions instead of secret
ballot elections. Landrieu co-sponsored the bill last year
when it was clear it would not get the needed 60 votes. This
year, she has not taken a position, which has caused her
office to be bombarded from both sides.
But she and a handful of other moderate Democrats caught a
break when Sen. Arlen Specter, R-Pa., a crossover vote the
unions were counting on, announced he could not support the
bill. With supporters now two or three votes short, card check
is stalled if not dead, and Landrieu is off the hook for now.
That leaves Letten. Whether or not the senior senator
recommends that the president reappoint the Republican as U.S.
Attorney in the Eastern District is a matter of intense
interest beyond the New Orleans region.
For many, the career prosecutor has achieved folk hero
status as a corruption fighter, whose ultimate trophy was the
conviction of former Gov. Edwin Edwards for racketeering in
2000. Letten, then the first assistant, forcefully presented
the government's case at trial.
Letten's critics acknowledge his competence while
questioning his zeal to prosecute Democratic officials
primarily. At any rate, they feel that with a change of
administrations, it's time for a new U.S. Attorney, and they
expect Landrieu to recommend one.
Letten's most fervent supporters proclaim that without him,
that part of the state will return to its corrupt old ways-
-"the Louisiana way" as Letten famously dubbed it--and they
demand that Landrieu do the apolitical thing and ask the
president to keep him on the job. Leading that charge is Sen.
David Vitter, who has promised Landrieu a fight if she goes
with anyone but Letten.
Soon after the election, Landrieu said that she backed
Letten, but later stated that it was only fair that supporters
of other candidates get to make their cases.
Her decision could come as early as next week, according to
staff sources.
Part of why she has taken so long is that this is more than
about Letten. There are the U.S. Attorney posts in the Western
and Middle districts to fill, three new U.S. Marshals to name
and, as it works out, a vacant federal judgeship in each
district.
Some following this closely think Landrieu will make all or
most of her recommendations at once, which, either way she
goes with Letten, would dilute some of the controversy.
From some of the names mentioned as leading candidates,
Landrieu is putting a premium on diversity by race and gender.
In the Western District, both the U.S. Attorney and the new
judge might be African-Americans. Two female attorneys are
among those under consideration for the judgeship in the
Middle District, which has not had a woman judge before. State
Judge Jane Triche-Milazzo of Napoleonville is thought to be a
leading contender for the Eastern District judgeship.
For the prosecutor's job in the Eastern District, if it is
not to be Letten, the leading alternative mentioned is Brian
Jackson, an African-American career assistant U.S. Attorney,
who has served in New Orleans, Baton Rouge and Washington.
It might be politically easier for Landrieu to go with
Letten, but now that Vitter has made him his cause, she would
appear to be caving to her rival if she recommends
reappointment.
Landrieu knows that Letten's most vocal backers, those
convinced that no Democrat is fit to replace him, probably
didn't vote for her or the president, and never will. Many
others who favor Letten, but not so adamantly, also recognize
the president's right to appoint a fellow Democrat, especially
another career prosecutor with impeccable credentials.
Vitter can employ procedural moves against the confirmation
of a replacement, just as Landrieu blocked former President
Bush's appointment of U.S. Attorney David Dugas to the Middle
District judgeship. But assuming Landrieu's recommended choice
is qualified, sooner or later the junior senator will have to
come up with a better objection than that he or she is not Jim
Letten.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
More, Not Fewer, Should Pay Property Tax
APRIL 13, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Every year, Sen. John Alario, D-Westwego, proposes a
constitutional amendment to double the homestead exemption to
$150,000. And every year, after business and local government
groups testify against the plan in committee, it dies there.
What's changed this year--creating more buzz about his
perennial bill in years--is the sticker shock of owners of
houses that were realistically reassessed in 2008 for the
first time in years. That, in turn, caused one young real
estate broker to begin an on-line petition to raise the
exemption to $160,000, which, said organizer Joshua Kahler,
would cover the inflation that has taken place since the last
increase in 1982.
To date, the petition has garnered about 55,000 signatures,
though the rate has significantly tapered off from its fast
start. Kahler hopes the show of support builds into public
pressure on legislators to put the question on the
constitutional ballot.
Yet, assuming all petition signers are voters, 55,000 is
less than 2 percent of statewide registration of nearly 3
million. A random review of on-line signatures at the site
shows a heavy concentration in the suburbs of New Orleans,
Baton Rouge and Lafayette, where property values have
escalated most. The distribution is sparser in urban
neighborhoods, small cities and rural parishes. Legislators
from those areas already are speaking out against the proposal
and say they have more than the one-third votes needed to
block it.
An informed debate, however, would be healthy, given that a
whole generation of homeowners has come along since the
exemption was last raised.
At $75,000, Louisiana's homestead exemption is the highest
in the nation, and the tax burden on individual homeowners is
the lowest. According to the non-profit Tax Foundation,
Louisiana ranks 46th in state and local property taxes on
owner-occupied residences, an average $183. Its "tax burden"
ranking falls to 51st for residential property taxes as a
percentage of both per capita income and home value.
Fifty percent of homeowners are fully covered by the
homestead exemption, while businesses pay 80 percent of
property taxes. That's fairer than a quarter century ago when
80 percent of homesteads were assessed below $75,000 and
businesses carried 90 percent of the load.
After a few tries, business and public interest groups
have given up on lowering the exemption. Instead, rising
property values have gradually, if slowly, adjusted the
balance to include more homeowners among the payers.
That trend should be left to continue. Raising the
homestead exemption to $75,000 was a mistake that should not
be compounded by giving the large majority of homeowners a
free ride once again.
It's more than a matter of national rankings and business
climate. It's the principle that every property owner should
contribute something to the public services--education, law
enforcement and public works--that support the community while
protecting and enhancing property values.
Most legislators understand the value of keeping a broad
base of property tax payers. Despite the Internet-fueled
populist appeal of the proposal, its chances of passage at the
Capitol are slim again.
But since Sen. Alario will be back with the same bill next
year and after that, maybe it's time for an alternative
approach. Instead of fewer homeowners paying property taxes,
there should be more.
Rep. Kevin Pearson, R-Slidell, has filed a constitutional
amendment that would not raise the homestead exemption but
would elevate it to apply to property values between $10,000
and $85,000. In that way, every owner pays taxes on the first
$10,000, but property over $85,000 would not be taxed any more
than now.
The fair way to finance basic local services is for
everyone in the community to pull the wagon at least a little
while virtually every homeowner still gets a break.
Yet fair doesn't make it politically viable. It's hard to
imagine two-thirds of legislators voting to tax the half of
homeowners who currently pay nothing. But since proposals to
raise the homestead exemption will always be with us, those
who favor a more civic-minded approach deserve a cause to back
as well.
Every year, Sen. John Alario, D-Westwego, proposes a
constitutional amendment to double the homestead exemption to
$150,000. And every year, after business and local government
groups testify against the plan in committee, it dies there.
What's changed this year--creating more buzz about his
perennial bill in years--is the sticker shock of owners of
houses that were realistically reassessed in 2008 for the
first time in years. That, in turn, caused one young real
estate broker to begin an on-line petition to raise the
exemption to $160,000, which, said organizer Joshua Kahler,
would cover the inflation that has taken place since the last
increase in 1982.
To date, the petition has garnered about 55,000 signatures,
though the rate has significantly tapered off from its fast
start. Kahler hopes the show of support builds into public
pressure on legislators to put the question on the
constitutional ballot.
Yet, assuming all petition signers are voters, 55,000 is
less than 2 percent of statewide registration of nearly 3
million. A random review of on-line signatures at the site
shows a heavy concentration in the suburbs of New Orleans,
Baton Rouge and Lafayette, where property values have
escalated most. The distribution is sparser in urban
neighborhoods, small cities and rural parishes. Legislators
from those areas already are speaking out against the proposal
and say they have more than the one-third votes needed to
block it.
An informed debate, however, would be healthy, given that a
whole generation of homeowners has come along since the
exemption was last raised.
At $75,000, Louisiana's homestead exemption is the highest
in the nation, and the tax burden on individual homeowners is
the lowest. According to the non-profit Tax Foundation,
Louisiana ranks 46th in state and local property taxes on
owner-occupied residences, an average $183. Its "tax burden"
ranking falls to 51st for residential property taxes as a
percentage of both per capita income and home value.
Fifty percent of homeowners are fully covered by the
homestead exemption, while businesses pay 80 percent of
property taxes. That's fairer than a quarter century ago when
80 percent of homesteads were assessed below $75,000 and
businesses carried 90 percent of the load.
After a few tries, business and public interest groups
have given up on lowering the exemption. Instead, rising
property values have gradually, if slowly, adjusted the
balance to include more homeowners among the payers.
That trend should be left to continue. Raising the
homestead exemption to $75,000 was a mistake that should not
be compounded by giving the large majority of homeowners a
free ride once again.
It's more than a matter of national rankings and business
climate. It's the principle that every property owner should
contribute something to the public services--education, law
enforcement and public works--that support the community while
protecting and enhancing property values.
Most legislators understand the value of keeping a broad
base of property tax payers. Despite the Internet-fueled
populist appeal of the proposal, its chances of passage at the
Capitol are slim again.
But since Sen. Alario will be back with the same bill next
year and after that, maybe it's time for an alternative
approach. Instead of fewer homeowners paying property taxes,
there should be more.
Rep. Kevin Pearson, R-Slidell, has filed a constitutional
amendment that would not raise the homestead exemption but
would elevate it to apply to property values between $10,000
and $85,000. In that way, every owner pays taxes on the first
$10,000, but property over $85,000 would not be taxed any more
than now.
The fair way to finance basic local services is for
everyone in the community to pull the wagon at least a little
while virtually every homeowner still gets a break.
Yet fair doesn't make it politically viable. It's hard to
imagine two-thirds of legislators voting to tax the half of
homeowners who currently pay nothing. But since proposals to
raise the homestead exemption will always be with us, those
who favor a more civic-minded approach deserve a cause to back
as well.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
No Easy Answers for State's Money Woes
APRIL 6, 2009 POLITICS / JOHN MAGINNIS
Artists, musicians, teachers and arts advocates protested deep state funding cuts last week by staging a mock funeral procession to the Capitol, complete with coffin, symbolizing the death of the arts. They were not exaggerating much, given the Jindal administration's proposed cutting of total arts funding by more than half, including effectively ending a grants program to community groups by slashing it 83 percent. Without those state grants, galleries, museums and theaters in towns across the state could close and schools would lose the teaching services of visiting artisans and performers.
They are not alone, as the cuts run deep through nearly every department of government, causing fears of services to be eliminated, college class sizes enlarged and providers, like pediatricians treating poor children, dropping out of the Medicaid program.
Compared to most state agencies, the arts councils at least are able to capture some public attention with street theater. A funeral procession by Treasury Department auditors mourning the death of fiscal accountability just hasn't the same zing.
Neither do columns about the state budgets, compared to the typical fare of
The real-life stage for agencies, colleges and non-profit groups is before the House Appropriations Committee, which is meeting three days a week in advance of the legislative session to scrutinize every section of the governor's proposed budget, which takes effect July 1.
Legislators, stung by the governor's vetoes of their pay raise and local spending projects last year, are determined to show more independence from him in the coming session, starting with the budget. They have picked a funny time to take charge. Last year, the governor got to decide how to spend a $1 billion surplus and over $1 billion in new revenues, with minimal input and backtalk from lawmakers.
This year, with $1.3 billion less to spend and layoffs and service cutbacks looming, he is more than happy to let them rearrange the reductions, as long as they don't raise taxes.
The favored solution of many legislators, however, is to grow the pot by taking from two other large pots, $775 million in the so-called Rainy Day fund and another $415 million in the mega fund set aside for large economic development projects. The governor does not favor using the former this year and is trying to commit the latter before legislators get their hands on it.
The constitution allows the Legislature to use up to one-third of the Rainy Day fund in a year, about $258 million, with no more withdrawals for two more years.
It's raining now, say legislators. But it will be pouring in two years, responds the governor, when the federal stimulus money--$666 million a year for two years in the state general fund--runs out. Jindal and Commissioner of Administration Angele Davis want to start a steep but gradual descent now rather than fall off the cliff in 2011, when, of course, the governor and legislators will be up for re-election.
Still, it is unreasonable to expect or blame the Legislature for drawing from the Rainy Day fund in the worst budget fix in 20 years, even if it does get worse later. They can take out one-third now and one-third of what's left in 2011.
The administration will balk now but eventually accede in face of a broad coalition of unmet needs. If it gave in on the Rainy Day fund now, the Legislature would be after the mega fund already. And that would be a terrible thing to waste on patching a budget hole, when it is the last real chunk of change, along with the $400 million in last year's surplus funds not yet spoken for, that the state will have to do something major, whether to seize a big economic development opportunity or a meet a big emergency.
Though not filling the whole hole in the budget, the stimulus infusion from Congress is buying the Legislature two years to make some structural changes in government that the people can live with. If legislators fail that--and the governor too--the funeral processions of 2011 could be for their careers.
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