My farewell email to staff

All,

Just over seven years ago, I accepted the position as county administrator.  My wife and I wanted to be closer to aging family members on the Shore.  I also saw Caroline as an opportunity to work shoulder-to-shoulder with some remarkable people.  Personally and professionally, my time here has been incredibly rewarding.

It still puzzles me that not everyone recognizes how special Caroline County is, not only as a place but as an organization.  I have worked in the public, private, and nonprofit sectors; organizations as small as our family logging business in Montana and as large as the U.S. Navy.  What happens here doesn’t happen everywhere.  During my tenure, senior managers have passed on pay increases to give more to well-deserving people on their teams.  They’ve declined bonuses, refused reimbursement of expenses, and relinquished valuable contract provisions voluntarily.  I won’t name names to avoid embarrassing (or forgetting) anyone, but it has been inspiring for me to work with such dedicated and selfless leaders.

There is no greater evidence of Caroline’s unique culture than the budget process.  I realize not every employee agrees with “The Caroline Way.”  Some folks think it’s the job of the top person to “bring home the bacon” to a department or agency.  That’s the prevailing approach in many cities and counties.  It’s easy to recognize those places because they often have contentious budget hearings that can run past midnight.  The squabbling usually spills into the local paper.  In a zero-sum budget process where there are winners and losers but the one group consistently getting the short end of the stick is the taxpaying public.  Not here.

In Caroline, every department head and allied agency chief is a community leader first.  You won’t hear these folks asking, “What’s in it for me (or my department)?”  Instead, they ask, “How we can work together to solve the tough challenges we face?”  They advocate for a person and agency across the table.  They trust the process and one another.  This collaborative culture is Caroline’s best competitive advantage.

Let’s be honest, Caroline likely will remain among the poorer counties in Maryland.  As I've said before, coming to Caroline for the money is like moving to Kansas for the surfing.  But there are more ways than dollars to measure wealth.  Whatever Caroline lacks in financial resources is more than offset by the people.  In a word, by you.

I imagine everyone who works for the County could make more money somewhere else.  Those of you who have stayed through the lean times aren’t here for the money.  You’re here because you’ve chosen Caroline County as a place not only to work but to serve.  Through your dedication and the leadership of the Commissioners and other allied agencies, the County has earned the trust and respect of the community.  That support makes tough decisions (like last year’s income tax increase) possible.  The ability to make those tough decisions is why Caroline County will eventually pull ahead of those other counties, you know, the ones with the expensive, waterfront estates.  (I really am going to miss smack talking the other counties.)

A parting word of warning: The greatest challenge facing Caroline isn't unfunded mandates from the State of Maryland or another economic downturn.  Together, we've survived tough times and come out stronger.  No, the danger is forgetting who we are and how we've come to this point.  The County isn't simply a place or an organization.  Caroline truly is a way.  It's a way of working, doing business, and living.  It existed long before I arrived but for seven years, it has been our way.

It is my sincere hope it will remain yours for many years to come.  Thank you and all my best.

Ken Decker

Risk matters

(Not the game by Milton Bradley)

I open with a passage from an email I sent senior staff a few years ago:

"I’m strongly committed to providing a safe and healthy workplace for employees.  I’m also committed to maintaining public access to our public buildings.  A perfectly safe environment simply does not exist.  Our job is to carefully the real risks against the real costs and make thoughtful decisions.  While we may have employees worried about a mass shooting or act a violence by a member of the public, the odds of that occurring are incredibly low.

Our responsibility—as department heads and professionals—is to build “the management case” for our decisions.  In my experience, people do a terrible job of assessing risk.  Psychology Today agrees.  (Bonus points to anyone who gets 100 percent right on the quiz.)   If you prefer something more academic, you might try “Overreaction to Fearsome Risks.”  Or for a middle ground, this blog page by Bruce Schneier."

Why do administrators--who generally advocate a calm, data-driven approach to evaluating risk--become speed bumps in legislative overreactions to unfounded fears?

There are some obvious answers.  Legislative bodies are more influenced by voter perceptions (valid or not) than by data.  If the vox populi demands things that make them feeler safer (rather than actual being safer), they are entitled because "democracy."  Failing to take action against a perceived threat--however unlikely--opens one up to the accusation of "not caring."  Perhaps the most obvious... people regardless of education and training are not good at evaluating risk.

Delving a bit deeper, there are more satisfying answers.  Every public policy--no matter how ill-advised--benefits someone.  For example, the United States spends over $7 billion a year on the TSA for security theater rather than actual security.  That sum goes to far more than rank-and-file employees.  Entire industries are built around monetizing fear.  This is less an issue in the private sector.  In corporate America, money spent on security is weighed against other potential investments.  The issue is far more pronounced in government where the few who benefit greatly speak more loudly than the many who pay slightly.  Perhaps the biggest obstacle to rational decision-making in the face of fear is the pervasive expectation for government to "do something," even when the most pragmatic approach is to do nothing.

After all, one might think, why does government exist save to do something?  And in no small measure that is why the hammer of government sees every problem as a nail... even when the "problem" is a barely visible crack in a beautiful stained glass window.  As public administrators, we cannot fall victim to the "what if" game, playing perpetual defense against threats less likely than winning the lottery.  We need to lead discussions on risk, not simply react to them.

Speed traps

According to Vermont Public Radio:

"Law enforcement issued more than 24,000 tickets worth upwards of $4 million in fines to drivers in Vermont in 2017. A quarter were issued in just three Vermont towns: Plymouth, Bridgewater and Mount Tabor.

The top two towns, Plymouth and Bridgewater, have a couple of things in common. They both contract the Windsor County Sheriff's Department for speed enforcement services, and that department issues nearly three times as many tickets as any other law enforcement agency in the state."

My favorite quote from the pieces is from Windsor County Sheriff Michael Chamberlain who said, “There are no sidewalks,” he said. “It wouldn’t take much for someone to go off and hit a child, or hit a family.” Given his four decades plus of law enforcement experience, he may have delivered that line with a straight face.

Let's be honest.  Plymouth, Bridgewater, and Mount Tabor are not champions of pedestrian and motorist safety while the rest of Vermont is engaged in a sensible Volvo version of Death Race 2018.  These municipalities have created and perpetuated speed traps for the money.  

In Maryland, all revenues from traffic citations go to the state.  In neighboring Delaware, municipalities keep the money.  Where do you think speed traps are more common?  Ask anyone from the Free State who routinely travels to beaches in the First State.  Economics 101, people (including local governments) respond to incentives.

Yes.  Speed traps may enhance traffic safety, much as red light cameras, speed cameras, or school zones adjoining building that haven't housed students for years.  The real motive, however, is money.  Traffic enforcement should be driven (no pun intended) by legitimate safety concerns, not balancing a budget.  The Maryland model of citation revenues going to the state minimizes the profit motive for local governments and that's better for everyone. 

Stop signs

Talking about stop signs is public discourse in miniature.  Few things are more ubiquitous than the white-on-red octagonal signs.  To engineers, they are traffic control devices governed by the MUTCD--the Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices.

The MUTCD is exactly the thrilling page-turner you'd expect from engineers writing about inanimate objects.  A far more readable Cliff's Notes version can be found here, with the more racy title, "Speed Control in Residential Areas."

Here's an excerpt:

"Residents’ complaints are usually accompanied by a proposed solution to the speeding problem...stop signs. Traffic officials respond that stop signs installed to control speeding: (a) don’t work, (b) are frequently violated, (c) are detrimental to safety, (d) are not warranted in the Manual* and, (e) actually increase speeds between stop signs. When residents are told that stop signs are not the answer to the speeding problem, they feel they must fight city hall to get them installed. A confrontational relationship is established between residents and traffic officials and the stop sign becomes a “trophy” which is awarded to the winner of the confrontation. Solving the speeding problem becomes secondary to winning the “trophy”. The end results of this process are: (1) unhappy citizens, (2) continued complaints and requests for more stop signs, (3) increased political pressure and, (4) often, approval of stop sign installations to bring the controversy, temporarily, to an end."

Obviously, the authors have experienced the unmitigated joys of a public debate over putting stop signs at the corner of <insert random tree name> avenue and <insert random number> street.

Like the problems that occupy most of local governments' time, speeding is complex, widespread, and slippery.  And like many issues, it's only a problem when "other people" do it.  For those who doubt cosmic justice, I offer the example of the resident who was complaining most loudly about speeding in their neighborhood being the first to receive a traffic citation on the same street for <wait for it> speeding!  To add sauce to the goose, most speed studies come back showing the perceived speeding is not nearly as excessive as portrayed.

People want simple, straightforward solutions to problems they perceive.  Few pieces of painted metal are more simple and straightforward than a stop sign.  Engineers and pretty much anyone who believes in the Enlightenment prefer rational solutions to specific, real problems.  One can have an intuitive notion that stop signs make a street safer... but belief is not the same as proof.  And the expenditure of public funds and governance of public facilities--even on something as modest as a stop sign--should be governed by rational thought, engineering best practices, and scientific evidence.

The great advantage of scientific discourse is that someone eventually wins, understanding that all such victories are temporary, good only until better data, measures, or testing comes along.  We no longer argue about whether the earth is flat (well, mostly). Theological debates, on the other hand, are endless absent one side eliminating the other.  If we can't agree to follow a rational process in putting up or taking down stop signs... how much chance do we have solving much larger problems?

Pension revisited

An essay I wrote for the Maryland Reporter:

About a year ago, I wrote an essay for MarylandReporter.com  suggesting the state legislature look to local governments for ideas on how to successfully manage pension systems.  Naturally, the opposite has happened.

Del. Mary Ann Lisanti of Harford County is pushing HB 971, legislation that would require local government pensions to provide a potentially budget-breaking disability benefit for some public safety employees.

Del. Lisanti’s bill is a response to a line-of-duty injury suffered by a police officer in one of Harford County’s municipalities. There’s no question that it is a situation that tugs at heart strings. It’s also the perfect example of the old legal adage: Hard cases make bad laws.

Caroline County—the state’s second poorest—has its own pension system.  After years of hard work and sacrifice, our system is stronger that the state’s. Del. Lisanti’s well-intentioned effort to benefit a single individual will have a profound effect on thousands of local government employees including ours.

Our actuaries are crunching numbers now, but there’s no doubt the new benefit will be expensive, not only to provide but to administer.  The smaller the pension system, the greater the impact.  The reasons are much same as why small counties cannot afford to self-insure for worker’s compensation.  With a small pool of employees, even one or two unanticipated claims can dramatically increase costs.  The inherent volatility and disproportionately high administrative costs makes self-insuring impractical.

If HB 971 is passed, Caroline County faces the prospect of having to increase what employees pay into the pension, cutting spending to pay a larger employer share, and/or restructuring pension benefits for future retirees.  Since about 75% of our annual budget is dictated by state mandates, we have few options—none appealing.

The bill also backdates the benefit to 2015, presumably to benefit Delegate Lisanti’s constituent.  This is problematic not only for pension funds, but for bond rating agencies.  How can those agencies evaluate our creditworthiness if financial mandates can be imposed ex post facto?

We understand the issue.  We already provide long-term disability insurance at no cost to our employees.  We are working towards other solutions we can afford, and not just for public safety employees.  After all, other workers can be left disabled due to a work-related injury. They deserve no less consideration.

Whatever we do must be financially responsible.  It’s laudable that Del. Lisanti wants local government pensions to match the lavish benefits promised by Maryland’s Law Enforcement Officers’ Pension System (LEOPS).  The unflattering reality, however, is that state has woefully underfunded LEOPS despite an employer share of nearly 40 cents for every dollar in wages.  By comparison, the employer share for Caroline’s fiscally sustainable pension system is less than 12 cents.

It is tempting but would be intemperate to suggest the Maryland legislature fix its own pension systems before dictating how we should manage ours.  My request is more measured.  Give local pension officials time to do the actuarial work necessary to determine the impact.  It is unconscionable to ignore the plight of workers disabled in the line of duty, but no less so to blindly force local governments to make pension promises we cannot afford to keep.

Intellectual Honesty

One of the most important qualities a city manager or county administrator can possess is intellectual honesty.  For a broader perspective, this list of "ten signs of intellectual honesty" may be useful.

To be intellectually honest, we have to admit 1) we exist within a culture; 2) this culture influences us; 3) we don't know how the culture influences us; 4) we all are guilty of confirmation bias.

In my experience, the vast majority of city managers and county administrators are devoted public servants.  We all strive to lead local governments that are engaged, responsive, transparent, and ethical.  We believe in the power of government to do good and stand prepared for the moments a community sees a problem and decides, "We must do something!" 

We rally.  We inspire.  We support.  We agree that something must be done and to dedicate ourselves to doing it!

The danger for local government leaders is failing to recognize that the "something" may be worse than doing nothing.  Working shoulder-to-shoulder with kind, caring, and dedicated public employees can be terrifically exciting, meaningful, and fulfilling.  With so many intelligent and devoted people working so selflessly... how could we possibly fail?

And yet local government often does.

Intellectual honesty requires us to ask tough questions and not be content with the "echo chamber" answers we often receive from our fellow professionals (or professional associations).  As a profession, public administration would benefit by asking "Why?" far more often, and exploring the possible answers without so many preconceived notions (including that of our own nobility).

It's a tough time for intellectual honesty in America.  Public discourse is dominated by hyper-partisan rhetoric.  Far too many individuals in positions of responsibility--in government and the Fourth Estate--seem to have abandoned even a passing commitment to facts or truth.  There is a palpable sense that large swaths of the body politic have simply given up on expecting intellectual honesty from anyone in power.

City managers and county administrators can be advocates for intellectual honesty, but only if we begin with our own profession.

A tough gig

Anyone who thinks serving as city manager or county administrator is "just another job" might benefit from reading this article from the Tacoma News Tribune.

One cannot blame the reporters--Derrick Nunnally and Candice Ruud--for the headline, " Will Tacoma’s next city manager be a downgrade?"  Unless something has changed since I studied journalism in the 80s, copy editors write headlines.

I will take Nunnally and Ruud to task for going with an "if it bleeds, it leads" approach to writing an article.  Particularly disappointing is the observation, "During the past three years, three of the four (finalists for the Tacoma city manager job) have applied to manage cities smaller than Tacoma and been passed over."

Neither Nunnally nor Ruud have any idea why a given candidate was not offered a position.  They did not participate in the interviews or the subsequent discussions.  They do not know who the competing candidates were (internal or external) or how those candidates performed in their interviews.  There are numerous reasons a person might be "passed over" for a job opportunity that have no bearing on a candidate's qualifications.

This is just another example of the tired bias--bigger is better.  I will cut Nunnally and Ruud a bit of slack because they exist in the world of journalism where writers aspire to larger media outlets.  As a profession, journalism tends to see working for the Washington Post or New York Times as superior to the Tacoma News Tribune.

Tenure in a larger organization--whether that is a newspaper or a local government--is not a reliable indicator of talent.  The hiring process is far to subjective to draw any conclusions.  This is particularly true for city managers and county administrators where elected officials make the final decision.  An unsuccessful candidacy should not be held against a person regardless of their field.

Read more here: http://www.thenewstribune.com/news/politics-government/article149418979.html#storylink=cpy

Is local government the "high ground"?

I recently read a well-intended short essay entitled, "Is #localgov Part of 'The Swamp'?"  The article by Miranda Lutzow offered three ways local governments can differentiate themselves, "We're accountable.  We're accessible.  We care."

My initial response via LinkedIn:


"What we think--as mostly professional city/county administrators--is far less telling than what citizens think. While polls generally show folks more approving of local governments than state or federal, we have our share of highly visible failings.

Bell, California? Flint, Michigan? Ferguson, Missouri, where the local government's dependency on court-driven revenues contributed heavily to serious racial and policing issues. Pick any city in California where retired city administrators are earning $200k+/year in pension payments while municipal services are suffering.

It's easy to dismiss these as aberrations, but I think an argument can be made that they are systemic problems. And the not-so-pleasant truth is that our profession has fallen short in addressing them."

Ms. Lutzow generously responded, sharing her opinion that the examples I provided are indeed aberrations and asking, "If you believe mismanagement truly is systemic, how do you think we, as a profession, should go about addressing systemic failures?"

Active mismanagement is one kind of failure.  It's easy enough to focus on headlines like those coming out of Bell, California, in 2010.  The larger problem our profession's apparent inability to move the needle on transformational problems (rather than just nibbling on the incremental ones). 

Let's take public pensions as an example. State and local government pensions. The cumulative level of unfunded liabilities has been estimated at $5 trillion. Trillion. With a "T."
  
It's easy enough to blame the pension crisis on politicians, but that's a bit like blaming the owners of the White Star Lines for the Titanic.  Public administrators are at the helm of local (and state) governments.  It is our responsibility to manage beyond the election-to-election focus and lead ethical and financially sustainable organizations.

The amount of pension debt is staggering. And the "salt in the wound" is every story citizens read about pension spiking. I can understand why everyday folks feel like we're either not competent enough to stop the financial bleeding or are corrupt enough to take advantage of the system.  (And closing lemonade stands doesn't help us either.)

The meta-idea of Washington, D.C. as "the swamp" is about far more than individual corruption.  It is about the widespread perception that government cannot (or will not) solve the transformational problems we face from community to nation.  Local governments may be more highly regarded than state or federal bureaucracies but a high point in the swamp is still swampy.