Government bureaucrats want your water softener.
The Culligan Man is fighting back.
The company behind the renowned "Hey Culligan Man!" advertising campaign of the 1950s has launched a political and public relations offensive to kill a bill targeting its signature product.
That proposal would allow regulators to ban conventional water softeners that discharge salt into municipal sewer lines. The mineral makes it tough for sanitation districts to clean and reuse their sewage, which is an increasingly crucial source of irrigation water in drought-plagued California.
The bill pits giant Culligan International Co. and smaller water-softener manufacturers and their dealers against a broad coalition of interests that includes California cities, water districts, big farming groups, chicken ranchers and even the golfing industry.
"It's a water-quality issue," said Mike McCullough, the director of environment and water resources for the Northern California Golf Assn. "If you have better-quality recycled water, obviously the turf can respond accordingly."
But Culligan, based in Rosemont, Ill., contends that it's not to blame for California's water woes. It's portraying the legislation as a Big Government grab of private property.
It's "an unprecedented step to take something from your home that you legally purchased to better the quality of your life," said Culligan General Counsel Susan Bennett. The privately held firm, which does not divulge sales figures, is by far the largest player in the California market.
The industry is running ads, including a recent full page in the Sacramento Bee, showing a man in a business suit wielding a plumber's wrench and a briefcase, ostensibly to rip the water softener from the utility closet of a hapless homeowner.
"The Sacramento Politicians are at it again. They're back to try and take your water softener away," the ad warns ominously, directing readers to visit www.savemysoftener.com.
Industry officials said they hoped the campaign would help customers avoid what happened to Vern Crawford, a retired Santa Clarita carpenter, who had to yank out his water softener after a local ordinance made it illegal.
"I do think it's a little unfair to target just the soft-water people," he said.
Dollars at stake
Water softening is a $500-million annual business in California. Units can cost about $2,300 plus periodic servicing. One in 10 Golden State homes, or an estimated 1 million households, have them.
The industry has made $117,000 in political campaign contributions since 2000. It gave $1,000 to one of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger's committees in April 2008. The governor last year vetoed legislation seeking to regulate water softeners.
Proponents of the current bill aren't amused by the industry's cheeky campaign. They say decommissioning of existing units would be a last resort and that homeowners would be compensated. Consumers, they note, still have access to alternative water-softening systems that do not pollute rivers with salt.
"It's hyperbole. Clearly, it's a very reckless and irresponsible attempt to engender fear at the expense of . . . a very important issue," said Assemblyman Mike Feuer (D-Los Angeles), the author of the legislation, AB 1366.
The matter has been bubbling for years as California finds it ever harder to satisfy the demands of thirsty cities, farmers and endangered fish species. Drought and climate change are reducing water supplies throughout the Southwest.
Water districts across California are under pressure to "recycle" sewage and runoff that they used to dispose of. The sanitized wastewater can be used for irrigation, groundwater recharge and even drinking water if the sewage is thoroughly cleaned.
But water treatment is expensive. Water softeners are adding to the burden.
The appliances remove the calcium and magnesium that cause much of the state's tap water to be "hard." Softening reduces the mineral scale that can clog pipes, damage water heaters and leave soap scum in showers and on glassware. Soft-water users say their skin feels smoother and their hair silkier.
Conventional softeners, however, flush the minerals from the tank using a salt- water solution. Statewide, those units annually discharge hundreds of thousands of pounds of salt into wastewater that must be treated at the expense of municipal utility ratepayers.
If Feuer's bill becomes law, California would be the first state in the country with a mechanism for banning water softeners on a mass scale.
Some communities have already imposed a ban. Faced with the prospect of higher sewer rates to build a new water treatment facility, residents of the Santa Clarita Valley Sanitation District, which includes Santa Clarita, Valencia, Newhall and several other communities in northern Los Angeles County, voted last year to outlaw salt-discharging water softeners starting Jan. 1 of this year, with a six-month grace period to comply.
Officials used lists provided by water-softener companies to track down and remove an estimated 6,500 water softeners, whose owners were compensated for the "reasonable" value of the appliances. Scofflaws could be hit with a $1,000 fine and up to 30 days in prison starting July 1.
Salinity has been increasing in California's surface and groundwater supplies for decades. Salt buildups have poisoned parts of the west San Joaquin Valley, forcing farmers to take the land out of production. Agricultural irrigation runoff, human and animal waste and household cleaning products are all culprits.
But water experts said removing residential water softeners could cut salinity by as much as 20% in some areas of the state.
It's "the only controllable factor we have" to keep salt levels down, said Paul Martin of the Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts.
The bill's backers include the League of California Cities, the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, the Western Growers agricultural organization, the California Poultry Federation and the California Alliance for Golf.
The bill authorizes operators of sanitation systems to control salinity caused by common water softeners. Local authorities would have the power to require all water softeners to meet strict efficiency standards, to require that they be hooked up only to hot water supplies, to ask homeowners to voluntarily give up softeners with "buy-back" enticements and to order the removal of previously installed units.
They could order the removal of existing units only after a regional water board concluded that such an action would improve water quality. Owners of seized water softeners would be compensated out of ratepayer funds for their lost property, the bill specifies.
The Feuer bill would not ban water softeners or treatment systems being sold commercially that do not flush salts to sewers.
Mike Mecca, president of the Pacific Water Quality Assn., an industry group, acknowledged that softeners do increase salinity "a little bit." But he said that banning them wouldn't do much to improve water quality. Industry officials stress that alternatives, such as water-softening units with closed containers that are replaced regularly so that the salts can be treated at a central plant, can be more environmentally friendly but are not practical in all areas.
Those arguments persuaded Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger last year to veto a predecessor of Feuer's bill because it "could unduly limit choices for consumers."
But this year the governor, who has made improving the state's water supply a top priority, has not taken a stance on the Feuer bill, said spokeswoman Lisa Page.
Santa Clarita homeowner Esther Romero said she didn't have any qualms about giving up her water softener. "I decided to get rid of it," she said. "If it's something that's not good for the city and not good for the environment; why should I have it?"
In its place, Romero began renting a nonpolluting water softener from the same local Culligan dealer that sold her the old unit years ago.