THE
STATE
Fall
From Frugality Puts San Diego on Fiscal Brink
A
city once known for good management has a pension plan more than
$1 billion in the red.
By
Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer
SAN DIEGO
— Somewhere in tax-fighting heaven, Howard Jarvis must be
spinning.
The city
that the late sponsor of Proposition 13 once extolled as nonpareil
in its stewardship of public money ("If all cities were run
as well as San Diego, we wouldn't need Proposition 13") is
now caught in a financial crisis of colossal proportions.
Not one
caused just by a downturn in the economy, although it has that
feature. Not one caused just by a bad deal with a pro football
team, although it has that, too.
Not even
one caused mainly by a severe cutback in state support, although
that's part of it as well.
No, San
Diego's financial problem is largely of its own making. By underfunding
its public employee pension program, the city is now so deeply
in the red, critics assert, that without drastic action, pension
payments will virtually suck the treasury dry.
Wall Street
has lowered the city's bond rating. Moody's now rates the city's
general obligation bonds at Aa3, the same as San Francisco and
— embarrassingly for San Diego leaders — one level
below Los Angeles. The lower rating potentially will pile on hundreds
of millions of dollars in additional interest costs for building
projects.
The city's
pension program has an unfunded liability — a shortfall
— of $1.157 billion and growing. Add the bill for medical
care for retirees and the tab goes up another billion or so.
"San
Diego is in a real mess," said Scott Barnett, former executive
director of the San Diego County Taxpayers Assn. "All the
bad financial news is coming together at the same time, and the
city is facing a load of hurt."
When the
booming stock market made the city's pension accounts flush, San
Diego officials sweetened benefits for city workers. Then the
market crashed and they were left with much less money in the
bank and bigger bills coming due.
Lots of
other California cities and counties have similar problems, but
this is San Diego, where fiscal conservatism was thought to be
the civic religion.
"We
found that the emperor has no clothes," said Carl DeMaio,
executive director of the San Diego-based Performance Institute,
a Libertarian think tank, studying the city's budget and budgeting
process.
The crisis
arose quickly — one study points to 2000 as the key year
— but could take decades to resolve even if the City Council
is forced to make painful choices.
Among
those possible steps — things that have long been considered
anathema — are cutting pension benefits, borrowing a lot
of money, trimming the payroll, privatizing some services, and
telling residents that services are going to be reduced even though
the city already has fewer police officers and firefighters than
almost any comparably sized municipality in the nation.
Like the
fellow who borrows money from the neighborhood loan shark, the
city finds itself barely able to pay the weekly interest while
the principle gets larger and larger and the threat of dire consequences
grows.
The City
Council this year opted to trim library hours, close swimming
pools and essentially abandon the filling of potholes in the streets.
The scandal
has blocked the city from refinancing bonds for Petco Park, the
new downtown ballpark for the San Diego Padres — costing
it millions in higher interest payments.
Securities
and Exchange Commission regulators and the U.S. attorney's office
are sniffing to see if someone should face charges for filing
incomplete statements with Wall Street prior to the selling of
bonds.
The pension
board, which advises the City Council, has sued its counsel for
allegedly providing inadequate advice. Two lawsuits were filed
by retirees who fear the city will end up defaulting on pensions.
Officials
who initially downplayed the crisis now admit that this year's
problems could be only a faint taste of what may come.
Mayor
Dick Murphy, a mild-mannered Republican now running for a second
term, believes his critics are sensationalizing the issue.
"We
have a pension situation that is a serious problem, but it is
a problem that can be solved with some discipline," he said.
"It's not a crisis; it's a problem, and we have a plan to
deal with it."
In many
ways, Murphy is reprising the role he played during last year's
disastrous wildfires: offering reassurance to a panicky public
that the city, though bloodied, will survive.
Still,
the city's own pension reform committee has warned that only a
"miracle" in the stock market will bail out the city
unless drastic and politically combustible action is taken, including
capping benefits for current retirees and reducing them for future
pensioners.
Amid controversy,
the two city officials closest to the budgeting and bond process
— City Manager Michael Uberaga and City Auditor Ed Ryan
— have quietly retired.
"It's
an ugly, ugly situation," said Jack McGrory, former San Diego
city manager and now executive director of a land development
company.
In hopes
of restoring the city's reputation with Wall Street, the council
is paying $1 million to the KPMG accounting firm for an audit
of the city's books and has hired a former SEC official to review
the city's history of providing financial information to bond
rating firms.
A pension
reform committee has concluded that the city is caught in a "perfect
storm" — but one of its own making.
In a draft
of the committee's final report, a group of lawyers, pension experts
and taxpayer advocates assembled by Murphy has concluded that
three factors collided:
One was
the City Council's decision to greatly increase benefits for retirees,
making it possible for employees to retire earlier and with a
higher percentage of their salary.
Second
was a decision to reduce the amount the city contributes to the
pension fund, which survives on interest on investments and on
city contributions. For years the pension plan was 100% funded.
At 90%,
Wall Street begins to get edgy. At 80%, analysts start to question
the fiscal prudence of decision-makers. The city of San Diego's
pension plan is now funded at less than 70%.
When the
third factor — the stock market decline due to the bursting
of the dot-com bubble — kicked in, the City Council initially
failed to take action.
Far more
than pensions in the private sector, public employee pensions
are protected by state and federal law. Also, San Diego retirees
have proven to be successful litigants when the pension board
or City Council have done things that they see as a threat to
their benefits.
Any attempt
to roll back benefits would have angered the increasingly powerful
public employee unions. Reducing city services to pump money into
the pension fund would have brought the wrath of neighborhood
groups. City Council members are elected by district; in habitually
low-turnout elections, a few thousand votes can make or break
a political career.
A number
of business leaders see employee labor unions as the villains.
Every current member of the City Council has enjoyed union support.
Union
leaders dismiss the idea that avarice on the part of employees
is driving the city to ruin.
They note
that city employees do not qualify for Social Security and thus
their pensions are their only reward for decades of service. City
salaries, they insist, are low compared to other cities and to
similar jobs in the private sector.
Indeed,
a common budget tool for decades has been to freeze employee salaries.
Also, promotions are slow in a city where the workforce is small
compared with other cities and turnover is minimal.
Making
matters worse, with a glut of baby-boomer workers nearing retirement,
the City Council decided it needed to retain their expertise.
So it devised the Deferred Retirement Option Plan, or DROP.
By delaying
retirement by five years, an employee can receive both his salary
and an early pension benefit. A portion of that pension benefit
is put into an interest-earning account.
At the
time of retirement, the employee can either take the money in
a lump sum or let it ride to continue gathering interest. For
most job categories, a worker with 30 years of service can retire
with a pension of up to 90% of the final year's salary, along
with annual cost-of-living increases and nearly fully covered
health plans.
Pension
board members estimate that the average city employee is eligible
for a check of $306,104 upon retirement and a lifetime pension
of $50,000 a year. The average pension has doubled in 10 years.
The pension
committee has recommended dropping DROP and raising the average
age of retirement from 55 to 62. Other critics want retirees to
pay more for medical care.
"This
is solvable, but it's going to be very painful," said April
Boling, a certified public accountant who served as chairwoman
of the pension reform committee.
So far,
the City Council has put on the ballot only two of the less-controversial
reform ideas: changing the membership of the pension board to
dilute the impact of retirees, and banning future underfunding
of the system but giving the city 15 years to clean up the current
shortfall.
"These
are not even a half-a-loaf — they're crumbs," snorts
DeMaio of Propositions H and G on the Nov. 2 ballot.
County
Supervisor Ron Roberts has made the city's financial problem a
major issue in his run for mayor against Murphy, who defeated
him handily four years ago. Murphy, Roberts notes, has been endorsed
by the municipal employees union.
But the
pension fund issue is incredibly complex and not easily made into
a bumper sticker, unlike, for example, the city's controversial
deal with the San Diego Chargers that required the city to pay
for unsold tickets.
Roberts
blasts Murphy for poor leadership and reneging on the fiscal legacy
of their mentor, Pete Wilson, a fellow Republican who served as
San Diego mayor from 1972 to 1983.
"San
Diego is a very different city than it's been," Roberts said.
"You'd have never seen this under Pete Wilson in the old
days."
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