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The outcome of the
November 5, 2002
referendum to raise the sales tax in twelve
southeastern Virginia
localities was stunning, particularly in the margin
of defeat. Although letters to the editor, online
media polls and radio talk-show comments hinted at
mounting citizen dissatisfaction, there was little
advance indication of the depth of opposition.
That changed when the polls opened. By 6 p.m.
on election day, veteran
political reporter Mike Gooding of WVEC-TV reported
that his travels across the City of
Virginia Beach
that day produced not one interview with a supporter
of the measure.
Indeed,
after the votes were tallied, only in
Norfolk
and Portsmouth
was the outcome close. In the Cities of Virginia
Beach, Chesapeake,
Newport
News, Hampton,
Poquoson, Suffolk,
and the Counties of James City, Isle of Wight,
York
and
Gloucester,
the verdict was clear: Taxpayers did not want to pay
even one more penny on the dollar for $7.7 billion
in projected road and mass transit improvements.
For
the many planners, politicians and other public
servants who had developed and endorsed the package,
this was a depressing turn of events. They had
gambled their reputations on the belief that
residents of the region were so disenchanted with
traffic congestion that they would be willing to
raise their own taxes to ameliorate it. They were
wrong, and here’s why:
-
The six projects on
the ballot were not, in total, viewed as a
viable solution. Although residents believe more
highway lanes are needed, the 20-year
construction timetable seemed too distant.
Voters also did not feel safe entrusting such a
large sum of money to government, and
particularly to a non-elected body such as a
regional Planning District Commission or to the
state’s oft-criticized Department of
Transportation.
-
Newspaper reports
fueled opposition by revealing that the vast
majority of financial support for the
proposition came from real estate developers,
road builders and port-related concerns, which
would benefit directly from the new roads.
Further, many citizens viewed with skepticism
the large number of television ads aired by the
YES Campaign, and instead identified more
closely with a single commercial which opponents
ran sparingly in the final two weeks in which a
pair of local delegates questioned whether
future legislatures and Governors would use the
revenue for its intended purpose.
-
Residents believed
that the federal and state governments should
help underwrite the cost of transportation
improvements which, in the case of the third
crossing of Hampton Roads, would produce
benefits for citizens beyond the bounds of the
region.
-
The struggling
economy had created great uncertainly in the
populace, making an increase in any household
expense, including a modest rise in the sales
tax, an unpopular notion.
-
Even the measure’s
most ardent supporters, including the governor,
admitted that the plan had flaws and was the
result of a “political reality” in
Richmond
.
That reality was the refusal of many members of
the General Assembly, who had sworn pledges
never to raise taxes, to impose a statewide tax
increase.
The
presumed opinion leaders of the region almost
universally backed the sales tax referendum. These
included the editorial pages of both the Daily Press and the Virginian-Pilot,
city councils and county boards of supervisors, two
area Congressmen, most members of the General
Assembly delegation, and the Peninsula and Hampton
Roads Chambers of Commerce. Indeed, proponents cited
this cross regional support as a principal reason to
pass the measure, noting that the likelihood of such
a confederation occurring again was remote.
Despite
these endorsements and a $2-million advertising
campaign, produced by highly experienced
professionals and based on sophisticated polling
data, 62 percent of voters, in a surprisingly heavy
turnout, said no. Indeed, the depth of opposition
grew as election day approached -- a source of
consternation to advocates who were certain that
taxpayers would become more supportive the more they
learned about the package. Rather than heed the
wishes and warnings of their elected leaders, voters
appeared to agree with dissident legislators and a
disjointed group of government critics. It was, in
the words of one local mayor who had twice won
reelection by wide margins, disturbing to see that
his personal endorsement meant so little to his own
citizens.
Proponents
contended, even into the final days, that the
referendum package had been adequately vetted, that
years of study by local, state and regional bodies
should have prepared the people for favorable
consideration of the proposal. But in reality, the
process that produced the plan was the work of
elected officials and their advisors in state,
regional and municipal agencies, influenced
principally by the demands of business and
government interests. Their belief was that new
and/or wider roadways are vital to the region’s
economy and that prosperous companies and well
paying jobs would go elsewhere if this commitment to
the future was not made. Knowing the hurdles that
had to be overcome to locate revenue in
Richmond
or Washington,
they hoped the citizens would trust their instincts
that a self-imposed increase in the sales tax was
the only viable option.
The
region’s leaders may have been right. But voters
were less concerned with the state of traffic
congestion than with the level of taxation and the
ability of government to accomplish the tasks
delegated to it. There was, in sum, a sizable
disconnect between the leaders and the people,
particularly those who
believe that government exceeds its authority in
both the amount of taxes it levies and the programs
and services it funds.
How
had the political and business communities so missed
the unrest in the community? It was the result of a
breakdown in direct communication between elected
officials and the most passionate members of their
constituencies. For Republicans, who controlled most
of the reins of power in
Virginia
throughout the 1990s, it was a fissure within their
own party ranks. The true believers who had so
enthusiastically campaigned for Republicans on the
issue of reducing the scope of government, felt they
had been abandoned.
(I
vividly recall the Saturday before the election when
Sen. Kenneth Stolle, R-Virginia Beach, debated
former state GOP chair Patrick McSweeney, an ardent
foe of the tax proposal before the Virginia Beach
Republican Party. Despite the fact that McSweeney
was an outsider – years before, the Richmond
attorney had fought Virginia
Beach's effort to secure water rights from Lake Gaston
– his arguments clearly carried the day with this
audience.)
Many
local senators and delegates privately held
McSweeney and others on the so-called “fringe”
of the Republican party in low regard, viewing them
as ill-informed and shortsighted. “How could these
people understand,” so the reasoning went, “how
dire both our road needs and fiscal situation are
when they have not had the opportunity we have had
to receive administration briefings, study
alternatives and argue the fine points of
legislation?”
In
earlier times, such thinking could be excused
because the politicians were, in fact, far more
familiar than the general population with the
information that was the basis for the creation of
law. Thanks to the Internet, however, legislators no
longer have such a monopoly. One need not be
"inside" government today to analyze
documents, interpret policy, or provide educated
opinions on issues of the day. Granted, true
representative government requires more than a
knowledge of policy to function: The give and take
of compromise can take place only in the halls of
power. But the access to basic facts and figures is
more open than ever before, leveling the playing
field.
"Moving
on" from November 5 requires blurring the
distinction between the electeds and the electors.
Those who seek and hold office must respect those
who engage in the political process from the
outside, as attendees of public hearings, letter
writers to local newspapers, callers to radio talk
programs or "posters" on internet chat
sites. As this referendum proved, the endorsements
of the chosen today hold little sway over much of
the voting public, who can make up their own minds
without direction from their elected
representatives.
The
process of regional decision making also must be
scrutinized in the wake of the referendum defeat.
In Hampton Roads, regional authorities are
typically composed of locally elected officials
(councilmen or supervisors) who have been appointed
to those posts by their mayors or chairs. Although
each may take these responsibilities seriously,
their performance on the regional stage has little
or no bearing on their re-election.
There
are few means of communicating regional
deliberations to the voting public. Meetings of such
bodies as the Southeastern Public Service Authority,
the Hampton Roads Partnership and Hampton Roads
Planning District Commission are held during working
hours. They are not televised, either live or on
tape, on local access channels. Because they are not
recorded, they cannot be streamed online as Virginia
Beach, for instance, now does with its council meetings.
Indeed rooms where regional agencies gather, unlike
those for most area city councils, are not
“mediated,” meaning they are not equipped with
adequate sound, light or camera equipment for
broadcast.
With
some exceptions, regional organizations do not have
media or public relations specialists to encourage
coverage or dialogue with reporters or respond to
questions from constituents. Their websites do not
invite interaction. Regional bodies schedule few if
any public hearings, and their representatives do
not hold town meetings. Because board members are
accountable to the officials who appointed them, and
not to the voters, they have little incentive to
devote much time to listening to the public or
defending their decisions.
For
regional bodies to be effective, responsive and
trusted with the public purse, they must become more
open and less mysterious. At least some of their
meetings, particularly ones that deal with
substantive public services like highways, must be
held in the evening and done so in places where
cameras and microphones are available. Through a
collaboration with COX Communications or WHRO Public
Television, these sessions could be broadcast live
or on tape. Possible venues could include the new Advanced
Technology
Center
in
Virginia
Beach.
If political bodies want to
improve communication with their constituents, then
they must establish and enhance vehicles to do so.
Typical public hearings are cathartic in some ways
and occasionally meaningful, but usually quite
formal. The public speaks, and their representatives
listen. The chance for a citizen, particularly one
who truly follows the process using today’s new
technologies, to be a significant factor in decision
making is slim.
That
is why elected officials must come from behind the
dais on a more regular basis and engage the public
in less structured settings.
Trained mediators would be a great asset in
determining the venues and conducting the sessions.
Elected leaders and key staff persons also
should become comfortable with the Internet, either
by debating online through live scheduled chat rooms
or at least soliciting the opinions of interested
persons on forums.
(During
the sales tax referendum, there was a 24-hour-a-day
debate on the Virginian-Pilot’s
Talknet online service.
Rarely if ever did an elected official or
agency director participate, either to defend
positions or clear up inaccuracies. Indeed the
typical response of decision makers when asked about
forums like Talknet is one of disdain, dismissing it
as a sounding board for a handful of
“crackpots.” On the evening of November 5, they
learned that the “crackpot” arguments had
prevailed).
Whether
justified or not, public suspicion undermined
extensive preparation and detailed studies conducted
by seasoned and dedicated professionals and
considered by well-meaning elected leaders. Moving
forward, elected officials must build trust, respect
and genuine interaction with constituents who have
access to information and want a seat at the table,
not necessarily to have their vote counted but at
least to have their voices heard. Without it,
effective representative government in the Internet
age is threatened.
-- November 25, 2002
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