Master of Capitol Arts Retires as Union Chief

Don Novey, whose sharp instincts and analytical mind helped him build the state prison guards union into perhaps the most powerful player in California politics, is stepping down after 22 years as the union’s boss.

Novey, 55, is a barrel-chested former guard at Folsom State Prison and widely viewed as the most feared and influential advocate in Sacramento. As he enters retirement, his initial plan is to go fishing with his aging father and spend more time with his four grandchildren. But he said he might soon return to the Capitol--as a politician.

“I’d like to run for a Senate seat,” Novey said in an interview. “I’m thinking about it.”

In the 1998 election, Novey’s union, the California Correctional Peace Officers Assn., was the state’s No. 1 donor to legislative races, setting a record by spending $1.9 million.

Analysts say the union’s support for Gov. Gray Davis that year--including $2.1 million in donations--may have sealed the election. Since Davis took office, the union has given him $662,000 more, and critics suggest that money helped the guards win a generous new labor contract that included a 37% raise.

Even Novey’s retirement, marked at a Thursday ceremony at which his successor also was sworn in, signaled his unusual power. The event was attended by Senate leader John Burton and several other lawmakers and took place on the Senate floor.

“He’s smart, tough and farsighted,” said Burton (D-San Francisco), an old ally and frequent beneficiary of the union’s support. “And he loves the game of politics.”

Novey is being succeeded by his second-in-command, Mike Jimenez. In an interview, Jimenez said he initially credited Novey’s achievements to “dumb luck,” but came to admire his predecessor’s work ethic, political savvy and strategic mind.

“Don taught us all the recipe for success,” said Jimenez, 41, the union’s vice president for eight years. “I’m going to stick with it.”

Jimenez added that Novey, while officially retired, would stay on as an advisor to the 29,000-member union on legislative and political affairs. “He’ll be around. He’s too valuable for us to let him go,” Jimenez said.

The son of a correctional officer, Novey took over the union in 1980, when its members numbered just 6,000. At the time, guards were the dregs of the law enforcement world, comparatively underpaid and undertrained. They also were poorly organized and, as Novey once put it, viewed by most Californians as a “bunch of knuckle-draggers.”

Bit by bit, Novey hoisted the profession’s reputation, appeal and compensation. He successfully pushed for longer academy training, psychological screening for applicants and the right of officers to carry concealed weapons off the job.

Salaries climbed too, and, at $54,888 for a senior officer, they are today far in excess of those in Texas, the state with the second-largest prison system.

Novey’s final coup as president was overseeing eight months of negotiations that produced the lucrative new labor contract approved by the guards in December and then signed by Davis.

Some lawmakers have criticized the pact as a sweetheart deal that should never have been approved--particularly in a year when California faces a $24-billion budget deficit. It will raise pay by as much as 37% by 2006, allowing veteran guards to make as much as $73,428 a year. The deal permits officers to retire at age 50 with as much as 90% of their salary.

Eventually, the contract’s new provisions will cost Californians $518 million a year, an independent audit found. One month after the agreement was signed, the union contributed $251,000 to the governor’s campaign.

“Novey’s political muscle has improved salaries and benefits to the point where guards are going to earn more than an associate professor after six years on the job,” said state Sen. Richard Polanco (D-Los Angeles), a longtime adversary. “The Legislature and the administration weren’t bold enough to stand up to him.”

Novey said his single most important mission has been to improve life for the men and women who, he says, “walk the toughest beat in the state.” But his effectiveness did not stop there. While other groups, such as the California Teachers Assn., have more members and bigger bank accounts, few can match his influence.

In the 1980s, Novey helped fuel California’s $5-billion, 20-year prison building boom, and he was a key force behind the three-strikes law. He also nurtured the state’s victims’ rights movement, which has been a potent force in shaping criminal justice policy, from sentencing to parole.

Because lawmakers so covet the union’s endorsement, Novey’s sway over the fate of legislation is also legendary. If he opposes a bill, odds are it’s dead. By contrast, politicians who draw Novey’s ire can expect the union to spend heavily against them in their next race.

The most recent target was Assemblyman Phil Wyman (R-Tehachapi), who supported private prisons that the union opposes because its members can’t work in them. In the primary election this year, Wyman lost to challenger Sharon Runner after the union spent more than $200,000 on her behalf. In another instance in the late 1990s, the union spent record amounts on a local race to unseat a district attorney who attempted to prosecute prison guards in a brutality case.

Analysts say Novey’s success stems in part from his unpredictability. One day, he’s backing liberal lesbians from San Francisco; the next, he’s supporting GOP good old boys from the California heartland.

Some were shocked, for example, when the union endorsed Democrat Davis over his 1998 election foe, former Atty. Gen. Dan Lungren--a fellow Republican who shares Novey’s passion for victims’ rights and capital punishment.

Novey said he went with Davis because Lungren refused to take the pay cut that former Gov. Pete Wilson had asked of all state employees during the recession in the early 1990s. But critics saw a link to Lungren’s investigation of abusive guards at Corcoran State Prison.

Either way, it was a telling blow for Lungren, and ultimately added to Novey’s reputation as a political savant.

“He has mastered the art of picking winners and also creating winners,” said Rob Stutzman, a Republican consultant. “In California politics during the 1990s, few people have left as indelible a mark as Don Novey.”

The union boss chuckles over such high praise, and said the accomplishments he values most are his work with victims groups and missing children foundations. He hopes to step up his work on those pet projects as he contemplates his next career move.

Whatever it is, he’ll pursue it at a gentler pace. Diabetes has slowed him and diminished his eyesight, and he wants more quality time with his family.

As for that possible venture into politics, Novey said he might run for Sen. Rico Oller’s seat if Oller, a Republican from San Andreas, makes a bid for Congress.

“It might be fun,” Novey said with his customary air of mystery. “You never know.”