Dearth of a salesman: The failure of education reform
by Donald Sevener
What went wrong with school finance reform? Mainly, a lack of leadership.

This is a tale of two governors.

For Gov. Jim Edgar, these are the worst of times. His bold plan to reform the way Illinois finances its public schools lies in shambles. His attempt to raise income taxes, lower property taxes and bring some equity to school funding in this state brought him national attention, but not the type he wanted. While legislators considered his proposal last spring, the Wall Street Journal, in a pair of sneering editorials, questioned his Republican pedigree and scorned him, among other things, as a "tax recidivist."

To insult, Senate President James "Pate" Philip added injury: single handedly tossing the governor's reform plan — and the cherished legacy Edgar hoped to write in history books — on the legislative scrap heap.

For Gov. Arne Carlson of Minnesota, these are the best of times.

In June, Carlson won approval of his plan to use tax credits to expand school choice in his state, overcoming the opposition of the Democratic legislature and the state's teacher unions. A week later, the Wall Street Journal lionized Carlson (though characterizing him as a "moderate" Republican, usually an unforgivable sin by Journal orthodoxy) for proving that political leaders can stand up to teacher unions and live to run again.

Minnesota's new law and the way Gov. Carlson "made it happen could become a model for the rest of the country," the Journal cooed. So, what went wrong in Illinois? The usual things — and then some. "Why didn't anything happen?" poses James Ward, a professor of education at the University of Illinois at Urbana- Champaign and an astute student of this state's education politics. "We were bitten again by Illinois regionalism. The power and leadership of the Republican Party is heavily suburban."

What happened, says Ward, "was that the money stayed home." Legislators, he notes, "didn't have the courage ... to do anything radical: take money from their constituents and give it to somebody else's constituents."

Edgar sought a 25 percent hike in income taxes to pay for $1.6 billion in property tax relief and an increase in education funding, the latter aimed at building the financial foundation under each student and reducing disparities in spending among school districts.

Edgar reckoned the tax swap, the feature he most emphasized, would buy the support of suburban legislators whose constituents, in the past at least, protested bitterly and loudly and relentlessly about rising property taxes. But suburban complaints have been muffled by caps on property taxes the legislature enacted at the governor's behest soon after he took office.

"Edgar is a victim of his own success with tax caps," says Jim Nowlan, a fellow at the U of I's Institute of Government and Public Affairs.

"He campaigned for tax caps in 1990 when suburbanites were really on the warpath." Now that the caps have moderated property tax increases, Nowlan suggests, suburban legislators "feel they prefer a slowed growth in property taxes to an increase in the income tax with the promise of tax relief."

Hence, the money stayed home.

There were other factors in the failure of school finance reform, all reinforcing the natural inclination of politicians, particularly suburban politicians, to keep the money at home. For example, a state surplus of about a billion dollars and a trend among some states toward reducing taxes made many legislators even more skittish about voting for a 25 percent income tax increase.

There was also the perennial question of whether extra dollars for education would do much good. To be sure, proponents of the governor's plan ably demonstrated the vast inequity in the dollars available to school districts, the consequence of the present excessive reliance on property wealth. Less clearcut for some, however, was the connection between more dollars and better student performance.

Nowlan notes that some lawmakers share an "increased skepticism" that more money for schools necessarily translates into improved achievement. "Conservative economists have injected this into the debate with a drumbeat of op-ed pieces that have put the education establishment on the defensive and changed the attitude of many elected officials regarding what kind of change is needed." As a result, it was easy for conservatives to muddy the debate with demands for tenure reform and other teacher accountability measures.

6 / September 1997 Illinois Issues

Jim Edgar can make the pitch, but he's a governor who can't close the deal,

So where was Jim Edgar?

That's what Republicans wondered on the final, fateful night after Philip said no, once and for all, to Edgar's plan.

This was to be Jim Edgar's shining moment, carving a legacy in Illinois law as significant and enduring as any since Richard Ogilvie more than a generation ago. And in a perverse sort of way, Edgar did carve his legacy, though hardly a shining one.

The failure of school reform in Illinois — like the success of school reform in Minnesota — was a question of leadership. Jim Edgar's legacy is as a leader who fails to lead. He's a salesman who can't close the deal.

Though there's no question Edgar wanted education finance reform and worked hard for it, he came to the task with several inherent liabilities:

• After six years in office, Edgar has failed to articulate a coherent vision for his governorship.

The inequities of school finance in Illinois were as apparent in 1991 after his first inauguration as they were in 1995 after his second. But Edgar failed to raise the issue until he was safely reelected. Anyone who has been in Springfield as long as Edgar surely knows that issues of such dimension require time to grow on people. It is a slow, tedious process of educating the media, of persuading the public, of compromise, of death and resurrection that finally results in change as momentous as Edgar sought to accomplish in a single session of the General Assembly.

Had a fair and adequate system of school finance been part of a grand Edgar vision from the outset of his governorship, then he would have accomplished it by now. But it wasn't part of his vision in 1992 when he voted against a constitutional amendment that called for a fairer system of taxation and school finance. And it wasn't part of his vision in 1994 when he derided the finance reform plan proposed by his Democratic gubernatorial opponent Dawn Clark Netsch — at least until he pilfered it as his own.

Notes Jim Ward: "His image is as a 'supermanager.' If you asked people who know government what Jim Edgar stands for, they'd say he stands for good government. He's honest, a nice guy.

But what does he believe in? You'd be hard pressed to say."

• For all his success in running for office, Edgar is a remarkably minor force in his own party.

As a bona fide moderate who grew up in Charleston, he is outside the philosophical and geographical mainstream of the Republican Party. Republicans no doubt appreciate having him at the head of the ticket, but he has never been able to translate his electoral success into legislative clout. There are 58 Republicans in the Illinois House; Edgar was able to win the votes of just five of them for his reform measure, all of them downstaters.

Pate Philip and Lee Daniels can defy Edgar without repercussion. The geographical center of the Illinois Republican Party is the suburban turf represented by Philip and Daniels and others who share expansive front lawns and an allergy to taxation.

Ideologically, the party is much more comfortable with the pragmatic conservatism of, say, a George Ryan than with Edgar's brand of pro-choice, pro-tax Republicanism that makes many GOP officeholders squirm.

Moreover, Edgar, unlike his predecessor, has failed to play a mentoring role in the party, cultivating young up-and- comers as future leaders the way, say, Jim Thompson groomed a young legislator from Charleston years ago into a secretary of state and future governor.

• And unlike Thompson, Edgar can't close the deal.

During the tense, waning days of the session, Edgar was asked whether he would testify before the Senate Revenue Committee that was to consider — and reject — his reform plan. He replied that governors don't do that sort of thing. Not since 1991, anyway. It was not uncommon to see Jim Thompson, sleeves rolled up, necktie undone, working the House floor when he wanted something big, say a new stadium for the White Sox or Build Illinois.

Further, Edgar made an incredible miscalculation in believing Philip would cave to the pressure; when that didn't happen, Edgar walked away, literally, no deal in hand.

Ward: "When the chips were down, Edgar didn't have a lot of clout. When Thompson was on the second floor, there always seemed to be something he could put on the table to close the deal. That's not Edgar's style, and I'm not sure he had anything he could put on the table."

• Unlike his colleague to the north, Edgar is unwilling, or unable, to play hardball.

Carlson told Minnesota's legislature he wouldn't sign a school funding bill unless it expanded school choice for parents. The Democratic legislature passed one anyway. So Carlson vetoed the $6.7 billion measure, precipitating a month-long standoff that ended only when lawmakers passed the bill he wanted.

Did Edgar consider vetoing the school appropriation and forcing legislators to spend a scorching June in Springfield? He told reporters he would not call a special legislative session unless a consensus developed on a new school funding plan.

Nowlan: "'He focused on this as his legacy. Why not pull out all the stops? I guess one response would be that he may not use all the powers of the office as effectively as he could. Or, maybe it's that Edgar pulls back from conflict. It may have to do with personality. He left the Capitol; he wasn't there to deal with. Thompson would have relished going in the back room and dealing."

In Minnesota, parents enjoy expanded school choice and tax breaks to help them choose. In Illinois, parents and schoolkids can only expect that the worst of times won't get better anytime soon. �

Illinois Issues September 1997 /7