Three years after the stock market cratered in 1929, American schools suffered their own crash. School districts had managed to ride out the early years of the Great Depression; in fact, because many districts depended on property taxes, which didn’t crash as fast as income taxes, more than a few managed to increase spending.
But in the 1932–33 school year, many districts ran out of funds. With more than one in five workers unemployed, many households didn’t have the money to pay property taxes, so all of a sudden, the school boards didn’t have enough money to pay their bills. Some 2,200 schools in 11 states closed entirely—in Alabama, schools in 50 out of 67 counties shut down. Many more districts cut services or sharply reduced their hours; thousands of districts in the Midwest and South shrank the school year to fewer than 120 days.
When we talk about government response to economic crisis, we tend to focus on the federal government; for one thing, it’s big, and it’s right there in Washington, where it’s easy to keep track of. But economic contraction is often felt most keenly by state and local governments, which deliver highly visible services like schools and police and fire departments.
Unlike the federal government, almost all states have to enact budgets that are nominally balanced. A recession may be the worst time to raise taxes, but it is also the worst time to cut services. Unfortunately, states have to do one or the other. And sometimes, as in those Depression-era school districts, they’re forced to do both.
This may be one of those times. State revenues collapsed in 2009, and though they’re now slowly recovering, the Rockefeller Institute reports that they are still 15 percent below where they were two years ago. At their current pace, receipts will take more than five years to recover to their 2008 levels. Some states, such as Alaska and Texas, had accumulated substantial rainy-day funds before the crisis, but most have relied on federal aid and budget gimmicks to stave off radical cuts. This year, the stimulus money will run out, and the new Republican majority in the House of Representatives is unlikely to allocate more—particularly since many of the worst problems are in blue states like California, New Jersey, and Illinois.
California has forced people to pay estimated taxes early, while giving IOUs to many of its suppliers. Illinois simply isn’t paying its suppliers at all. New Jersey’s new governor has already gotten into a bruising fight with the teachers union, and recently announced that he was scrapping an $8 billion second rail tunnel to New York City.
Such fiscal problems have been building for a long time. Politicians love to bestow goodies on their constituents, especially retirement benefits for public-sector workers—largesse that some future sucker ultimately has to pay for. Decades of this kind of behavior have left a lot of states with growing structural deficits. Many states have tried to paper over these shortfalls by issuing bonds or raiding special funds such as pensions; as a result, the overall debt of state and local governments has risen from $1.7 trillion in 2004 to $2.4 trillion in 2010, a 40 percent increase. The unfunded liability of the pension systems should also be added to that figure; according to economists Joshua Rauh and Robert Novy-Marx, that liability is more than $3 trillion, just for the states alone. Even when tax revenues eventually recover, this problem will not go away.
The economist Herb Stein famously said, “If something cannot go on forever, it will stop.” States with a permanent mismatch between taxes and spending will not be able to squeak by on budget gimmicks and backdoor borrowing forever; either they’ll find a way to bring their budgets into balance, or they’ll run out of money and default on their obligations. The path they choose will make a big difference in the future of the states, and of their citizens—and in the life of the nation as a whole.
Andrew Cuomo, the newly elected governor of New York, seems determined to build a career as a budget hawk. His campaign platform included admirably detailed promises on how to end the state’s budget imbalance, including a pledge to not raise taxes. Even before he was sworn in, the governor-elect was sending a blunt message to the state legislature. This is “about numbers,” Cuomo said. “There’s no Democratic or Republican philosophical dispute here. The numbers have to balance, and the numbers now don’t balance … It’s painful, but it is also undeniable.”
New York could have used federal aid from the stimulus to restructure its spending and make it more sustainable, but instead the money went mostly to shore up the old structure. Now any cuts will be deep, sharp, and much more traumatic than they had to be. And they will be opposed by an army of union workers and community activists who wield outsized influence in the Democratic primaries—a key consideration in such a deep-blue state.
In the past, notes E. J. McMahon, a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute’s Empire Center for New York State Policy, governors who tried to cut the state’s health-care system were attacked with hard-hitting ads like one that portrayed a woman running down the street with a sick kid in her arms, only to find the emergency room locked. “‘Tell Governor Pataki not to kill Grandma,’” McMahon intones dryly. “And the ads work! Pataki caved after passing a few tough budgets.” Cuomo himself has described the process thusly: “The governor announces the budget; unions come together, put $10 million in a bank account, run television ads against the governor. The governor’s popularity drops; the governor’s knees weaken; the governor falls to one knee, collapses, makes a deal.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, over the past decade, New York’s spending has grown almost twice as fast as personal income.