Phoenix Rises as Example as S.D. Heads for District Races

When voters here narrowly approved a district election system for City Council members in the early 1980s, supporters hailed the change as one that would make City Hall more responsive to neighborhood needs, significantly lower campaign costs and attract a greater diversity of candidates.

Opponents were just as quick to issue doomsday predictions of citywide interests being displaced by district-by-district parochialism, of “Chicago-style” vote-trading and of reduced accountability stemming from council members’ recognition that most voters would not have a voice in their reelection.

Nearly six years later, some of both sides’ hopes and fears have been realized--a mixed record that has done more to perpetuate than settle a debate similar to one now in progress in San Diego.

As San Diego prepares for its first district-only council race in nearly 60 years, a preview of this fall’s campaign and its impact on City Hall can be found by examining how Phoenix adapted to the district system after voters approved it in 1982, ending 33 years of at-large races.

A Fitting Comparison

Phoenix provides a fitting comparison because, like San Diego, it has nearly 1 million residents and a form of government in which a city manager oversees day-to-day operations and an eight-member City Council sets policy.

Both cities also have a mayor who is elected citywide and who, lacking a veto or other executive powers, essentially functions as the first among equals on the council. Moreover, both cities’ district plans took effect without a clear public mandate behind them, having been approved by razor-thin margins.

Since the first Phoenix City Council elected under the new system took office in 1984, the city’s politics and government have undergone transformations--some dramatic, others subtle--that have received, on balance, positive reviews.

Within Phoenix’s political and social circles, the consensus is that the change in the way the council is elected has enhanced citizen access at City Hall, altered the council’s complexion and given neighborhoods the kind of clout that previously was largely confined to an old-boy network with a virtual stranglehold on city politics. City services and projects also are more equitably distributed than they previously were.

Signs of Impatience

However, there are signs that average citizens, business leaders and political activists alike are growing impatient with a system that some believe encourages a myopic outlook, to the detriment of sweeping, major issues.

Although heartened by the city’s quicker response to such everyday problems as potholes and requests for new traffic lights, critics note that such time-consuming minutiae reduce time to review such pressing problems as air quality and growth management. Many also complain that turf battles on the council occasionally undermine effective citywide planning and harm neighborhoods whose voters are without recourse at the ballot box.

Earlier this month, Mayor Terry Goddard--who was swept into office in 1983 after leading the initiative drive that produced the district system--suggested studying the possibility of adding several at-large members to “add balance” to the council. Consigned to legislative limbo after it drew an unenthusiastic response from the council, Goddard’s proposal nevertheless has revived civic introspection about how Phoenix’s leaders are--or should be--elected.

Fears, Expectations

“The district system has not produced the kind of problems some of us feared in a number of respects, but neither has it been the godsend some made it out to be,” said Jim Haynes, president of the Phoenix Chamber of Commerce, which unsuccessfully fought the 1982 ballot initiative.

“When Terry Goddard, the father of district elections, starts talking about possible changes,” he said, “the only reasonable interpretation is that there are some flaws with the system.”

Despite his recommendation, Goddard said he believes that the district system is “working real well”--though not so well, he conceded, as to rule out adjustments and fine tuning.

Whatever shortcomings the district system has, Goddard argued, they are “far, far less” than those inherent in the previous at-large method.

“I don’t think anyone would seriously suggest turning back the clock on this,” said Goddard, the son of a former Democratic Arizona governor, who is widely viewed as a gubernatorial prospect himself. “But that doesn’t mean that the system we have now can’t be improved.”

The Phoenix district plan--the third such proposal put before voters in 15 years--was approved 51% to 49%, after a bitter campaign that mirrored November’s Proposition E contest in San Diego, which passed by an identical margin after four prior defeats.

Under the 1982 Phoenix initiative, the City Council, previously elected citywide, was expanded from six to eight seats, with each member running only in his particular district. If no candidate receives more than 50% of the vote in the primary, the top two vote-getters compete in a runoff--the same process that will be used in San Diego.

By its very nature, the district plan addressed one of the most oft-heard condemnations of the at-large system--namely, that it denied voters the right of direct representation that they enjoy at every other level of government. Typically, candidates from Phoenix’s wealthier northern and central areas dominated the citywide races, alienating residents elsewhere. In the late 1960s, for example, four of the six councilmen lived within about one block of one another, according to former Councilman Ed Korrick.

Districts not only ensured broader geographic representation but severely curtailed the power of the Charter Government Committee, a big-business group that for more than 30 years had handpicked and bankrolled most Phoenix council candidates.

Cutting Campaign Costs

With races confined to relatively small districts, candidates no longer needed to rely on expensive TV and radio ads to reach a citywide audience, thereby reducing the impact of political donations. Indeed, Phoenix’s experience has demonstrated that, in a district election, sheer hard work--if not a substitute for big campaign donations--at least enables candidates to compete more equally with well-heeled Establishment foes.

“A citywide election would have been absolutely impossible for me,” said Councilwoman Linda Nadolski, a neighborhood activist elected in 1987. “I was a nobody with no money who hadn’t been a part of the political environment. There’s no way a strictly grass-roots candidate like me would have a chance in a citywide race. But, in a district, it’s a different story.”

“This system gives a chance to a lot of people who couldn’t get to first base running at large,” three-term Councilwoman Mary Rose Wilcox added.

In Phoenix’s first district elections in 1983, 50 candidates were on the ballot--nearly five times more than ran two years earlier, reinforcing the perception that the election change marked a new era. However, four of the eight victors were holdovers from the at-large council, two of whom still serve.

As predicted by district proponents, campaign costs have declined markedly--in some cases, by up to 50%--in Phoenix’s last three biennial council races, campaign finance reports show.

Nitty-Gritty Politics

Precinct walking, yard signs and mailers have supplanted 30-second broadcast media ads as the major weapons in their political arsenal, so most council candidates easily stay within a voluntary $50,000 limit--an astonishingly low figure in contrast with San Diego, where high-six-figure council races have become commonplace.

The switch to district elections is expected to produce a commensurate drop in San Diego’s campaign costs this fall.

On the surface, those trends have the potential to open the political process to more candidates from more-diverse backgrounds. Indeed, two women--one of them Latina--and a black councilman first elected at large now serve on a body that for much of its recent history was predominantly white and male.

Still, after the initial flurry of the first district campaign, in which one at-large member lost his seat, City Council elections reverted to a familiar pattern of incumbents’ lopsided victories over generally weak opponents. No incumbent has been defeated in a district election. Exception for council vacancies, there have been few competitive campaigns. In 1987, for example, three incumbents ran unopposed and three others won in landslides.

‘Interesting Transition’

Goddard attributed the lack of electoral dynamism to Phoenix’s district system still being in an “interesting transition period.” Others cite the easy reelections as evidence of public satisfaction with the council’s performance.

To many, however, it has less to do with the district system than with the council’s low $18,000 annual salary and two-year terms. Hoping to make the job more appealing, both economically and politically, the council recently approved ballot measures that will ask voters this fall to more than double the council’s pay to $36,645 a year and to lengthen the terms to four years.

The district system has also altered how council members--and, to an extent, city government itself--operate at City Hall. By dividing the city into eight districts, council members, for the first time, were answerable to a relatively compact, geographically defined constituency that could not simply be shuffled off to the city bureaucracy, as often happened under the at-large system.

“In an at-large system, everybody’s business is nobody’s business,” former Councilman Korrick said. “It’s easy to sit back and say it’s someone else’s problem, or let staff take a crack at it. With districts, a council member is down in the trenches more.”

Under pressure from the council, which itself faced increased public demands, Phoenix’s city government dramatically reduced what City Manager Marvin Andrews calls its “turnaround time” on citizen requests for help with everyday problems or city services. At the same time, the prime responsibility for handling those requests shifted from the city manager’s Citizens Assistance Office to the council offices.

“It’s not that we were ignoring those things before, but, with the districts, there was a much greater emphasis on responsiveness,” Andrews said. “Things that might have taken a couple of weeks to get around to before now generally get attention in a few days.”

‘More Responsive’

Kathleen Eaton, president of the Neighborhood Coalition of Greater Phoenix, an umbrella organization that includes about 85 separate groups, agreed that “having a more specific constituency made the council and the city more responsive.”

That very accessibility, however, is viewed by others as the source of what they regard as the major faults of the district system.

With the council increasingly preoccupied with citizen demands on relatively minor problems, there is less focus, critics said, on bigger, citywide issues. One factor in his 1987 retirement, Korrick said, was his frustration with “getting more and more bogged down in neighborhood squabbles . . . and having less time to look at the big picture.”

Although most council members deny that citywide concerns get short shrift, some acknowledge that the press of district duties detracts from what Councilman Howard Adams termed “the global perspective.”

Like Mayor of Small City

Likening her role in her 120,000-resident district to “being the mayor of a small city,” Nadolski, for example, conceded that time spent on purely district concerns is a “natural limiter” to the time available for citywide issues.

Goddard and others, however, point out that individual council members frequently “adopt” citywide issues of particular concern to them, creating spheres of interest that help keep colleagues conversant. In addition, a council committee system, established to examine broad citywide concerns after the advent of the districts, “serves as a great antidote to excessive parochialism,” Goddard said.

“The specialization that has come with districts has not come at the expense of citywide issues,” Goddard said.

As an illustration, he noted that, during a recent debate over whether to build a $100-million stadium to attract major league baseball to Phoenix, the full council actively participated in the discussions--as it typically does on issues “that rise to citywide import,” he said.

If neighborhoods had too little power under the at-large system, some Phoenix leaders fear that the district plan has placed too much clout in the hands of groups whose perspective may begin and end in their own back yards.

Housing, transportation and recreational projects that supporters contend reflect sound citywide planning have been derailed by intense opposition within the district in which they were to be placed. Recently, for example, neighborhood opposition scuttled a plan to build an 18,000-seat amphitheater in the area that city planners was felt most appropriate.

“We’re not going to be in a much better position if all we do is replace the lobbying power of the development industry with the lobbying power of neighborhoods,” Councilwoman Nadolski said.

Being naturally protective of their political turf, council members, as well as their constituents, usually do not look favorably upon others taking an active hand in their districts’ affairs.

“What we’ve seen is a Balkanization of the city,” said Gil Shaw, a politically active lawyer. “A ‘stay on your side of the fence’ mentality has developed.”

Clout Close to Home

On most votes, considerable deference is paid to the council member from the district involved: Goddard estimated that the council follows the district representative’s lead about 90% of the time.

The district’s councilman, in turn, usually accords significant weight to his constituents’ wishes. Councilman William Parks, for example, conceded that he tends to side with neighborhoods “even if I think (they’re) wrong.”

Although some view that as a positive illustration of the public’s strengthened role at City Hall, critics call it an abdication of the council’s collective independent judgment to a single member--and to a single neighborhood.

Although eschewing the term “vote-trading,” council members acknowledge that practicing that principle solidifies working relationships with their colleagues. One councilman who has studiously avoided that you-scratch-my-back approach, Calvin Goode--whose district includes some of the city’s poorest neighborhoods--has suffered the consequences, notably in a major 1987 housing project approved over his and his district’s strong objections.

That trend toward politically courteous deference is perhaps most evident in the council’s consideration of proposed developments. In zoning cases or development proposals, the district councilman “holds a virtual veto power,” according to land-use lawyer Karen Schroeder.

“If the district member is opposed, you face an almost impossible situation,” Schroeder said. “It’s a ‘do unto others’ type thing. They know that, if they vote against one member’s wishes this time, he might do the same to them next time.”

Crocodile Tears?

However, lawyer David Tierney, one of the founders of the Neighborhood Coalition, described such complaints as little more than crocodile tears from the development community, which still frequently outguns neighborhood activists on major projects.

More often than it capitulates to a councilman’s wishes on such votes, Tierney argued, the council exhibits “reverse log-rolling,” in which the district member sides with his constituents while the majority of the council--which does not have to face voters in that district--votes otherwise.

“It’s their neat little way of dealing with political hot potatoes,” Tierney said. “There’s a total lack of political accountability, because the council members are totally insulated from the voters most affected. If a councilman from North Phoenix votes against something in South Phoenix, there’s nothing voters there can do about it.”

Council members, however, regarded that as an overly cynical view. When the council has overridden the district’s preference, they said, that choice stemmed from the merits of the issue, not political gamesmanship.

Less interested in why districts’ wishes are sometimes ignored than with the mere fact that it occurs, the Neighborhood Coalition has periodically suggested that a two-thirds council vote be required to override a district member’s vote. However, coalition leaders conceded that that idea--similar to a proposal made last year by San Diego City Councilwoman Abbe Wolfsheimer--has little chance of being adopted.

Battling for Districts

Parochialism is also evident in the vigor with which council members battle for budget dollars and city programs for their districts. Although that often pits one district’s needs against another, the process occasionally produces desirable results, as when a proposal to build one central “multigenerational center”--recreational and social facilities aimed at people of all ages--grew into a plan to construct three centers serving six districts.

On other occasions, the results are less fortunate, as when a $20-million freeway-mitigation demonstration project in one district became mired in a legislative gridlock caused by a bid by other members for a share of the money.

The addition of several at-large seats to the council, some argue, could correct those and other problems spawned by the district system. Without threatening any of the significant gains made under the district system, the at-large members would provide a valuable counterbalance and constant citywide perspective, proponents of at-large seats said.

Although that idea has drawn support in some political and business circles, most council members appear skeptical of any plan that might add what Councilwoman Wilcox called “an elitist layer” to the council. Though outnumbered by the district members, at-large representatives might come to be viewed as more significant because of their wider constituency, critics argued.

Others contended that at-large members could reintroduce some of the very problems that the district system was designed to eliminate.

As that argument illustrates, much of the debate over the success or failure of Phoenix’s district system stems from the perspective of those making the assessment. What some caustically decry as parochialism, others lavishly praise as forceful advocacy for a constituency or issue.

“I think any positive change has been largely cosmetic,” said Chamber of Commerce head Haynes. “But that’s important. If the perception is that the council is more responsive, and the public therefore has more faith in government, that’s good. Like they say, perception is more important than reality in politics.”

New Initiative

The political reality is also often more difficult to ascertain. Although many speak positively about the switch to district elections, the sentiment is far from universal in Phoenix--as evidenced by a citizens initiative that will also be on the fall ballot.

If adopted, the measure would require the council to seek public approval before spending more than $3 million on such high-profile projects as sports arenas, entertainment facilities or a convention center. Though described by Shaw as “more a slap at the current council than the district system itself,” the initiative also could, he said, serve as a “final veto against an overly parochial council.”

Such a proposal would not be on the ballot, many said, if Phoenix residents were enthralled with the results of the district system.

“People were pretty equally divided (on districts) six years ago, and they probably still are,” Haynes said. “This may be one of those arguments that’s always going to be with us. And I think the districts are here to stay too.”