It’s Spring Break; the Budget Can Wait

The threat of fiscal ruin is a dominant theme of conversation these days in the capital. State Controller Steve Westly captured the mood by invoking “a plane heading toward a mountain.” Warning that California could soon run out of cash, he implored lawmakers to “act now.”

Assemblyman Keith Richman (R-Northridge) fears “a looming catastrophe” and wonders why legislative leaders aren’t confronting the colossal challenge with more diligence.

So where is Richman today as the workweek begins? On vacation in Hawaii. Where are the other 119 members of the Legislature? They dispersed Thursday for spring break. Ten days off.

The startling lack of urgency in the face of financial crisis is palpable in California’s domed Capitol, where lights will stay dimmed this week in the silent, empty chambers of the Senate and Assembly.

“I’ve got five days to see Costa Rica and learn Spanish,” said Assembly Republican leader Dave Cox of Fair Oaks.

“Cinco dias,” he added with a smile as he wrapped up business on the Assembly floor. “If you’re going to take a vacation, you need to take it this week.”

Five other lawmakers, Democrats and Republicans, were planning a trade mission to Taiwan, but canceled the trip -- not to work on the budget, but because of fears of SARS, the new respiratory disease.

To Sacramento old-timers, the absence of any rush to rescue the state from its financial morass is just the most visible sign of systemic political dysfunction in the capital.

“I’ve been watching Sacramento for 30 years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a stalemate or lack of action,” said Robert M. Stern, president of the nonpartisan Center for Governmental Studies in Los Angeles. “There’s almost a sense of helplessness.”

The sources of the political paralysis are manifold. Term limits have booted all but a handful of the seasoned lawmakers who conquered fiscal doom in decades past. The revolving-door capital culture has spawned legislators more attuned to the whims of campaign donors than their own leaders.

Redistricting that took effect last year delivered mostly safe seats for incumbents; now they are most vulnerable not in general elections but in primaries, where they can be punished by voters for deviating from party orthodoxy.

Most glaring: A two-thirds vote of the Legislature is required to pass a budget. When Democrats who control both houses of the Legislature try to push through a deal, the Republican minority musters just enough strength to stop the move. Only two other states, Arkansas and Rhode Island, mandate a super-majority for budget approval. About 12, including California, require a super-majority to raise taxes.

The result: Months into the mess, lawmakers remain largely stuck in place. While the normal pattern for budget talks is to delay agreement until the last minute, and this year has proved no exception, the troubles are rarely this severe.

So far, legislators have trimmed this year’s budget by $3.3 billion. Otherwise, agreement has been elusive as they try to close a growing budget gap last pegged by Gov. Gray Davis at a record $35 billion over the next 15 months. Entrenched Republicans refuse to raise taxes; equally stubborn Democrats insist on it. Democrats balk at further program cuts, Republicans demand them.

Davis set off an outcry in January by proposing to raise taxes by $8.3 billion and chop programs by about $20 billion. The governor will revise the plan next month to reflect new fiscal setbacks.

“Republicans do not come to Sacramento to raise taxes, and Democrats don’t come to cut programs,” Davis said in an interview. “The reality is we’ll have to do both. That is a hard reality to stomach no matter what group you find yourself in.”

To bridge the divide, Davis has convened 18 meetings since December with the top four lawmakers: Senate President John Burton (D-San Francisco), Senate minority leader Jim Brulte (R-Rancho Cucamonga), Assembly Speaker Herb Wesson (D-Culver City) and Cox.

But with little political capital at his disposal, Davis is poorly situated to guide lawmakers into a painful budget deal. His insular, some say aloof, manner has won Davis few friends among legislators, and his clout eroded further in November when he won reelection by just five points despite a cascade of blunders by his Republican challenger.

Nursing hopes of political recovery, Davis has shaped his public events -- especially outside the capital -- around topics that shift attention from the fiscal crisis, most recently anti-smoking ads and offshore oil drilling. Davis has also shied from exerting public pressure on the Legislature.

“I just think quiet, persistent prodding is the order of the day,” Davis said. “I’m not going to rant and rave. I’m not going to scream and yell.”

For that, there is Burton, top dog in the Legislature.

In an interview in his wood-paneled office at the Capitol, the Senate president erupted in angry outbursts about budget politics. Burton hurled a string of vulgar insults at Davis, Cox and Brulte.

He coarsely belittled the Republican leaders’ assertions that the state could balance the budget without raising taxes. He dismissed Davis’ leadership meetings with an epithet and likened the governor’s budget to a latrine.

Despite the crudeness, some top lobbyists see Burton as better positioned than Davis to orchestrate a budget compromise. First elected to the Legislature in 1964, Burton has few equals in the art of Sacramento deal-making.

As leader of the Legislature’s potent bloc of liberals, Burton is pushing to avert cuts that he says would harm “the most vulnerable in our society.” Without tax hikes, he said, California would have to release prison inmates, shut down university campuses, shrink the school year by 20 days, close the DMV, fire half of the Highway Patrol and deny health care to the blind, elderly and disabled.

Despite warnings from the state controller and others that each day of delay costs millions in lost savings, Burton said the Senate would approve no further cuts, beyond the $3.3 billion already passed, for the fiscal year that ends in 11 weeks. He cast the approach as moral, not political.

“We aren’t going to cut off somebody’s two fingers and then come back for the thumb,” Burton said. “When we do it, we’re going to be cutting it all off with a chop.”

As for spring break, Burton asked, “Why not?” Burton and other lawmakers said they saw no reason to step up the pace of budget talks.

Cox, the Assembly GOP leader, said lawmakers must reconcile “a fundamental difference in philosophy” between anti-tax Republicans and Democrats who want the state to “provide for every need of every individual regardless of what the situation is.” “The reality,” he said, “is we’re doing lots. Committee meetings. Budget hearings. Caucus discussions about how you solve the budget crisis.”

In keeping with Sacramento tradition, however, all those things were suspended for spring break.

While budget matters founder, Sacramento’s lawmakers have kept to the hunt for campaign cash. Among those taking money in Sacramento last week from lobbyists and others with a stake in the budget were Northridge Republican Richman, Assemblywoman Rebecca Cohn (D-Saratoga), and Sen. Sheila Kuehl (D-Santa Monica).

For Speaker Wesson, the first stop of spring break was a campaign fund-raiser for Assembly Democrats at the Regency Club in Westwood.

“I have to stay focused on the budget,” he said. “But I also have to realize that a very significant part of my job is to make sure that there are financial resources so that when the campaign season comes up, we have the money to do what it is we have to do.”

To close a budget deal, Wesson is looking for leadership from Wall Street lenders, who can pressure the Legislature into compromise by threatening to deny new loans to California. “If not, it’s a train wreck,” he said.

Wesson illustrates the toll that term limits have taken on party leaders’ ability to craft a budget.

In the past, long-serving speakers such as Willie Brown and Jesse Unruh used rewards and punishment to enforce their will, but the rapid turnover of Assembly leaders has eroded that power.

Wesson, who can name three members itching to replace him as speaker, said his job was “more coaching than ordering.”

Competing with the speaker for loyalty are labor unions, trial lawyers and other big campaign donors who are calling on Democrats to resist spending cuts. The donors have gained clout as the speaker’s power has diminished, lawmakers say.

“Nobody wants to say no to the groups that just gave them the money to run for the seats they hold,” said Assemblyman Joe Canciamilla (D-Pittsburg).

Canciamilla has joined Richman in a bipartisan group of moderates pushing for a budget deal. Like Richman, Canciamilla is taking the week off in Hawaii.

“I’m going to take my budget books and laptop and go away,” Canciamilla said before leaving the capital. “I’d be happy to stay if I felt we were going to be able to accomplish anything.”