San Diego's homelessness calamity: You have just entered the twilight zone

I.  Say what you want about the faraway White House.  But watch what you say about City Hall and the people we elect to local government – they're practically family.

They live in our neighborhoods.  We have coffee with them when they're running for office.  We bump into them at the movies or supermarket.  We could hop a trolley downtown and collar them at work.  We elect them to work for us.

Their job is to pave the streets, limit what gets built on that empty lot around the corner, keep an eye on the police department, get the trash picked up, and make sure there are enough fire stations to keep us safe and good air-quality levels to keep us healthy and enough libraries and parks to help make us happy.  

In sum, they're public servants whose job is to create and enforce policies and laws that improve the daily lives of San Diegans.  Their job is to take care of the city so we, the residents, families, taxpayers, students, and workers can get on with our personal pursuits and quotidian endeavors in safe and sound surroundings.  

Sometimes they do a better job than they do at other times.  But who can deny that – when it comes to issues of homelessness-related health, safety, and welfare – the Mayor and City Council have flat-out failed.

II.  Let's say you're out shopping in your local neighborhood.  Or holding tickets

for the downtown Civic Theater.  Or inching around Sports Arena Boulevard and Rosecrans.  Or stuck in the bottleneck at Torrey Pines Road. You'll see clusters of homeless men and women (and occasionally little children) asleep on the sidewalks, or holding up cardboard signs soliciting funds (god bless), or hauling black plastic bags filled with personal goods, or rummaging through trash bins.  Some are drunk.  Some are arguing or mumbling or shouting at invisible foes.  Some are reading yesterday's newspaper.

And even after you've handed over some spare change or a couple of bucks you might wonder, what else can you do? 

Who could you call if you want to do something more?  You might think, there must be someone in charge who has a plan to alleviate this glaring calamity. 

So you turn to the people we elect to city government, the ones whose job it is to take good care of the city. 

You go to the city website but you find nothing on the home page.  You try the link for InsideSan Diego and end up with a bunch of uplifting stories. You type "homeless" in the search box at the top of the main page and Eureka!  You see a link for homeless services and another link for homeless providers and plenty more links to news releases and police responses and the Mayor's press conferences.  

You keep clicking, searching in vain to find out who is in charge.  You try 2-1-1 San Diego, the city's newest public resource.  You try the homeless shelter directory link.  The truth finally hits you: you have just entered the twilight zone.

III.  Let's say it for the record: there's no one in charge.  Not at our County, not in our City.  There is no regional, local, or comprehensive policy to address the needs, impacts, and future of the homeless people living on our streets, along our riverbeds, and in our canyons.  

For years we've relied on nonprofits like the Salvation Army, Episcopal Community Services, San Diego Rescue Mission, Alpha Project, Neil Good Day Center, YWCA, Feeding San Diego, and North County Solutions to pick up the pieces.

For three decades we've given lip service to the mission of the Regional Task Force on Homelessness to pull the pieces together into a utilitarian approach to ending homelessless. 

Then someone masterminded the San Diego Regional Continuum of Care to take all the pieces and put them into a broad data framework.

And the United Way of San Diego County appointed their first "Commissioner" to place all the pieces in a coherent pattern that would meld housing and supportive services and permanently end chronic homelessness.

These regional efforts have been successful, indeed, in providing temporary subsidized shelter for unmoored politicians waiting for their next election gig to materialize.  But they've utterly failed to facilitate, create, or implement the crucial missing piece: a comprehensive, publicly-accountable policy and plan to address the size and scope of San Diego homelessness.

IV.  Dare we say it? Here at home, Mayor Faulconer has no plan.  Instead, he offers us tentative wishes.  He wishes to add some temporary shelter beds to the city's anemic inventory.  He wishes for a Housing Our Heroes program for 1000 homeless veterans.  He wishes to reunite homeless people with their families.  He wishes that voters would agree to increase the hotel tax (TOT) to pay for an ill-advised Convention Center expansion, street repairs, and homeless services (in that order).  

 

Then he wishes that his newly appointed communications advisor would fabricate a central intake center to hook up homeless people on the streets with various services (however inadequate, it would be a more benign approach than his previous actions to clear homeless people from downtown streets, round up their meager belongings, and lay jagged rocks under sheltering overpasses to prevent reoccupation).

He goes on wishing, but so far the tooth fairy has failed to alight.

V. But don't despair! There may be light at the end of this tunnel!  As it turns out, the city already has what it takes to do the job!  

•                We've got elected officials who owe it to us to take better care of the city.

•                We've got a Mayor who wants to look as good as possible to prepare for his rumored-run for governor.

•                We've got large wads of cash stashed away (the Mayor and other insiders know where to find it) already legally earmarked for low-income and homeless housing needs.

•                And we've got a longstanding, well-funded, fully-staffed public agency that could and should have been in charge of meeting the city's low and moderate income and homeless housing needs  from the very beginning.  

We could almost say we're loaded for bear.

VI. Train  your sights on the San Diego Housing Commission, established almost 30 years ago to preserve and increase the city's stock of affordable housing and be responsible for providing rental assistance and related housing services to low-income households.

Over the decades the agency has strayed from its original mission.  It sold off assets, engaged in property investment and development, favored market-rate ("workforce") over low-income housing, artificially sweetened the pot for some in the nonprofit housing industry, snookered the city council about financial activities and intentions, failed to halt or even keep track of the destruction and non-replacement of affordable housing, and evaded public oversight.

A solid case could be made to dismantle the Housing Commission.

A more positive case should be made to reform and restructure the agency and transform it into the city's one-stop-shop, a designated and responsible public-benefit city department with sufficient resources to create public housing and coordinate services and programs for the widest spectrum of San Diego's lower-income and homeless population.  

We can escape from the labyrinthian twilight zone by putting a renewed Housing Commission in charge.  Run it by your elected representatives.  Let's see what these public servants – the ones who are so close they're practically family – are really made of. 

To the victor belong the spoils

What is it about brute force and macho swagger that mesmerizes so many people? 

Picture this: you're at a crowded carnival.   See that big beefy guy up on stage – the one with bulging pecs and thighs like a steel vise?  Watch as he picks up that mallet, swings it high overhead, and smashes it down – smack on target.  The bell at the top almost shatters with a ringing endorsement of this big tough guy.  We all cheer.

Picture another carnival.  Onstage is an international lineup of muscle-flexing politicians.  See the iron-fisted man of steel Vladimir Putin? the vicious hanger-on Bashar al-Assad? how about the take-no-prisoners Kim Jong-un?  And whoa! there's a joker in the pack – the one with a muscle-bound mouth.  Could it be the Donald, our very own wild card?  Even he gets cheers.

Now picture a different carnival setting.  Let's make it city hall in sunny San Diego.  Man-o-man, the politics on this stage are a feminist fantasy come true – not a grandstanding, fulminating, intimidating, testosterone-laden blowhard in sight (at least, not since Papa Doug Manchester pulled out at the U-T).

After ten years under our adopted "strong mayor" system… after dire predictions that abandoning our old city manager form of government would lead to sordid corruption… after gloomy forecasts that venal forces would dominate city affairs… the naysayers were left eating crow.  Brute force? macho swagger? never happened. 

For proof, just look at our mayor Kevin Faulconer – one of the most genteel, photo-ready manikins ever invented by the public-relations industry. 

This gentlemen's gentleman has managed to convince San Diegans that nothing out of the ordinary – nothing unseemly – goes on in our city (give or take some boys-will-be-boys antics over a new billion dollar downtown football stadium).

But the fact is, there is something unseemly going on. When Kevin Faulconer became the city's heir apparent following the not-so-bloodless coup that rudely exiled mayor Bob Filner, the spoils of that peculiar political battle were immediately deposited into the hands of San Diego's old guard – the city's business-as-usual, self-serving, elite club.

The problem is, the political spoils happen to be us… you and me… residents and voters… neighborhoods and communities... the city's future.

But – to the victors – the public voice is a nuisance.  Bad for business. Expendable.

Sure enough, a process has been set in motion that overrides, marginalizes, shoves aside, and manhandles the San Diego public by systematically eliminating city laws and procedures that once guaranteed the public right to be heard.  And honored.  

Rape is not quite the word for it.  Let's call it a violation of the public trust.  It involves the methodical dismantling of years of progress by neighborhoods, community groups, and dedicated public advocates who once worked alongside city officials as partners to promote good public policy and better decision-making. 

Could it be that those "strong mayor" naysayers had a point, after all? 

Here's a short list of civic assaults, with more to be exposed.

Government accountability to the public has all but disappeared.  The proverbial buck stops nowhere.  In fact, it seems that no buck exists anymore.

• Our duly elected mayor, Kevin Faulconer, is the city's CEO but he's AWOL when it comes to taking responsibility for or even acknowledging the documented lack of oversight within city departments; a series of critical reports from the independent city auditor; non-disclosure about how the city conducts business… chooses its vendors... monitors its contractors… sells off public property… ignores building code violations… puts public safety at risk…
• In the old days, an experienced well-trained manager – answerable to the full city council and to the public – was responsible for running city business.
• Nowadays, ever since voters traded in the city manager system for a "strong mayor" system, the mayor is the official head of city operations.  He hires a personal appointee to do the job.  This appointee is answerable solely to the mayor.  
• Do you have any idea who runs the city for mayor Faulconer?  
• Do you have any idea to whom is the public can turn with community grievances?  
• Do you have any idea why no one seems willing to disturb our likable mayor with questions, complaints or demands?

 Then there's the egregious public insult called Civic San Diego – the urban renewal non-profit corporation that replaced San Diego's former redevelopment agencies. 

•  Civic San Diego was created by the mayor, the city council, and downtown developers and financiers.  It's a means of privatizing lucrative real estate activities  in our downtown and adjoining neighborhoods. 
• It replaces the former public planning process overseeing growth and development in our city.  
• To the shock, dismay, and detriment of neighborhood residents and interested citizens, there is no longer an enforceable process where the public can be heard and heeded on big decisions affecting their own communities.  
• The rules were changed and locked into place when no one was looking.

Then there's the process called Charter Change, which voters will confront this November on an obscenely long and complex election ballot.

•  The City Charter is San Diego's basic constitution.  In contrast to our concise U.S. Constitution, our City Charter is in need of a good cut and shampoo.  Some styling, as well.  But our city's elected officials have quietly sabotaged public rights to knowledgeably review and revise our local constitution.
• Rather than opening the process to public scrutiny, rather than actively engaging the public in a representative Charter Review Commission, rather than distinguishing between simple editing fixes and far-reaching policy changes, we will be blindly voting on City Charter strike-outs and insertions that will, in many cases, pull the rug out from under longstanding public protections.  
• Once upon a time many decades ago, San Diegans created a City Charter in their own image. Today, the face of the public is being blotted out.

Then there's the blatant reality that we have no coherent policy or plan to ameliorate our mushrooming homeless population.

Then there's the careless support for a multi-headed "citizens" ballot initiative, created behind the scene by a select few – in the absence of public debate or input – that would rearrange huge tracts of land in Mission Valley and downtown, along with creating an ungovernable hodgepodge of private spheres of influence.  (Ironically, support is coming from groups that pride themselves on government openness and transparency.) 

Then there's the disappearance of a well-functioning, adequately-funded planning department, staffed by city planners who were once permitted to put the public (neighborhoods, communities) interests first.

Then there's the Balboa Park - Laurel Street Bridge imbroglio that denies public participation in the decision-making process governing major structural changes to one of our most treasured public assets.

The list goes on.  But let's end, for the moment, with a cautionary political truism:  If you're not at the table, chances are you'll end up on the menu.   

Which means if we, the public, don't demand to be seated at the victors' big-boy banquet... we're lunch. 

City government: why can't we run it like a business?

Last time we met we figured out how San Diego was begotten.  Now it’s time to unravel the purpose of city government and discover what’s it all about when you sort it out…

We’ll start the sorting process with a couple of facts.  Then we’ll go for the jackpot question: why can’t city government be run like a business? 

First fact: city government deserves a lot more attention from you and me than it usually gets.  Why? because our elected officials have substantial influence on our everyday lives – more than we give them credit for. 

The political decisions of our mayor and council members penetrate our neighborhoods and reach straight into our private homes, directly impacting how we navigate our personal lives.  Sometimes it's for better.  Other times it's for worse.  

Second fact: did you know that San Diego is legally defined as a municipal corporation?  No, it’s not a business in the ordinary sense.  Our city is classified as a self-governing public entity endowed with the “right and power to make and enforce all laws and regulations in respect to municipal affairs.”

And exactly what are municipal affairs?  Probably not what you're thinking.  Municipal affairs are the city's raison d'être.  The city is created to deliver public public safety and essential infrastructure.  Core services invariably include police and fire protection (in a coastal town, throw in lifeguards), water and power, garbage collection/ sewers/ sanitation (public restrooms get short shrift), parks, streets and roads, libraries, and schools.

Can you think of any other items that qualify as a municipal affair worthy of government intervention? How about public funding for sports teams? public funding for after-school programs? hiking the value of land via discretionary zoning changes to enhance developer profits? reinvesting in the Housing Trust Fund to build low-income housing? city-sponsored WiFi? underwriting costs for the 3^rd expansion of our Convention Center? mandates to reduce energy and water consumption? legislating the size of worker wages?

Making and enforcing laws in respect to municipal affairs seems benign but surprise! you’ve just entered the twilight zone of city politics, where competing political philosophies and interests go mano a mano in bloody battle for dominance, favor, and financial support. 

Which leads us to the jackpot question: why can't city government be run like a

business? 

Asking it another way, can the goals and values inherent in governmental responsibilities to the public (municipal affairs) line up with the goals and values associated with commercial business (making a profit)?  Can the practices of the public sector and private sector co-mingle in City Hall without producing corrupt mutant offspring?

Here's one way to think about it: in the existential quest for survival, we humans rely on a couple of different systems to satisfy our needs.  Both systems are valid and necessary.  One involves trade/commerce/ business.  The other involves government.  (For a detailed presentation of this concept pick up a copy of Systems of Survival: A Dialogue on the Moral Foundations of Commerce and Politics by Jane Jacobs.)  

These two systems are complimentary but fundamentally antagonistic since each operates under a discrete set of goals, objectives, values, and attitudes. 

The ideals of business incorporate values like the freedom to seek one’s own self interest, competition with other interests, efficiency, innovation, and measureable output.  The bottom line is profit.  While business is often a force for good, the greater good is not the foremost goal of business.  

Government, on the other hand, operates under a set of values geared to serving and protecting society.  Some may view it as the guardian of the vulnerable and defender of the common good.  By its nature, government focuses on the greater good and is antithetical to profit-making and competition.  

Both systems have perilous limitations.  Fraud, greed, and public theft are generally the outcome of unrestrained or poorly regulated business practices.  And when public watchdogs are muzzled or marginalized, government can run roughshod over personal liberties and individual rights.

But at its best, local government provides a stable, lawful, structured environment for the business sector.  Commerce can thrive where government provides good infrastructure, education, health, transportation, and stability. 

And at its best, business provides the public sector with strong economic engines and technologic advances.  Local government can thrive when economic opportunities, options, and benefits are enhanced for city residents and workers.

It's called symbiosis – wholesome cooperation between government and business.  It's not only desirable, it's necessary since neither one does well in the absence of the other.

But symbiosis is different from inter-breeding.   Interbred hybrids create unhealthy mutants.  Think of organized crime.  Think of our nation’s investment bankers and corporate raiders. 

Closer to home, think about our termed-out politicians who have reincarnated as high-cost lobbyists. 

Think about former mayor Jerry Sanders, who laid aside the public good and joined the dark side as chief hatchet man for San Diego’s overweening and morally challenged Chamber of Commerce.   

Think about congressman Juan Vargas’s remunerative meanderings between political office and the insurance industry. 

Think about master-schnorrer John Moores, hovering once again over the heart of downtown to rake in new fortunes through the beneficence of city subsidies and land deals.

Think about the latest corporate welfare bribe from mayor Kevin Falconer making nice to the Illumina Corporation.  It might go a long way to keeping him comfortably afloat once his stint as mayor comes to an end.

It takes strong ethical leadership to curb the creation of municipal mutants like these.  It takes sturdy ethical moorings to prevent business interests from dominating city government.  It takes political integrity to synthesize the responsibilities of government with private business objectives while keeping them at arms length from one another.

Where does that leave us?  Will we stay silent as City Hall become a marketplace for monied business interests who walk away with the spoils?  Will we be passive as our elected council members abdicate their rightful role at City Hall?  Will we roll over for a mayor who is just following orders as he ignores his responsibility to the public and willfully conflates government's business with business's business?  

Or will we rally friends and neighbors and learn how to get ourselves heard now that we know what it’s all about when you sort it out…(don't miss the musical rendition)