WHEN Greece ran into financial trouble three years ago, the problem soon spread. Many observers were mystified. How could such a little country set off a continental crisis? The Greeks were stereotyped as a nation of tax-dodgers who had been living high on borrowed money for years. The Portuguese, Italians and Spanish insisted that their finances were fundamentally sound. The Germans wondered what it had to do with them at all. But the contagion was powerful, and Europe’s economy has yet to recover.
America seems in a similar state of denial about Detroit filing for bankruptcy (see article). Many people think Motown is such an exceptional case that it holds few lessons for other places. What was once the country’s fourth-most-populous city grew rich thanks largely to a single industry. General Motors, Ford and Chrysler once made nearly all the cars sold in America; now, thanks to competition from foreign brands built in non-union states, they sell less than half. Detroit’s population has fallen by 60% since 1950. The murder rate is 11 times the national average. The previous mayor is in prison. Shrubs, weeds and raccoons have reclaimed empty neighbourhoods. The debts racked up when Detroit was big and rich are unpayable now that it is smaller and poor.
Inner-city blues
Nearly half of Detroit’s liabilities stem from promises of pensions and health care to its workers when they retire. American states and cities typically offer their employees defined-benefit pensions based on years of service and final salary. These are supposed to be covered by funds set aside for the purpose. By the states’ own estimates, their pension pots are only 73% funded. That is bad enough, but nearly all states apply an optimistic discount rate to their obligations, making the liabilities seem smaller than they are. If a more sober one is applied, the true ratio is a terrifying 48% (see article). And many states are much worse. The hole in Illinois’s pension pot is equivalent to 241% of its annual tax revenues: for Connecticut, the figure is 190%; for Kentucky, 141%; for New Jersey, 137%.
By one recent estimate, the total pension gap for the states is $2.7 trillion, or 17% of GDP. That understates the mess, because it omits both the unfunded pension figure for cities and the health-care promises made to retired government workers of all sorts. In Detroit’s case, the bill for their medical benefits ($5.7 billion) was even larger than its pension hole ($3.5 billion).
Some of this is the unfortunate side-effect of a happy trend:
Americans are living longer, even in Detroit, so promises to pensioners are costlier to keep. But the problem is also political. Governors and mayors have long offered fat pensions to public servants, thus buying votes today and sending the bill to future taxpayers. They have also allowed some startling abuses. Some bureaucrats are promoted just before retirement or allowed to rack up lots of overtime, raising their final-salary pension for the rest of their lives. Or their unions win annual cost-of-living adjustments far above inflation. A watchdog in Rhode Island calculated that a retired local fire chief would be pulling in $800,000 a year if he lived to 100, for example. More than 20,000 retired public servants in California receive pensions of over $100,000.
Money (That’s what I want)
Cleaning up the mess in local and state government will take time. Circumstances vary widely from place to place, but a good starting-point would be to abandon the accounting tricks. Only when the scale of the problem is made clear can politicians persuade voters of the need for sacrifice.
Public employees should retire later. States should accelerate the shift to defined-contribution pension schemes, where what you get out depends on what you put in. (These are the norm in the private sector.) Benefits already accrued should be honoured, but future accruals should be curtailed, where legally possible. The earlier you grapple with the problem, the easier it will be to fix. Nebraska, which stopped offering final-salary pensions to new hires in 1967, is sitting pretty.
Yet sooner or later, some of these problems will end up in Washington, DC. In Detroit, a judge ruled this week that federal bankruptcy law trumps a state law that makes it impossible to reduce pensions. But the issue will arise again, and will not be truly settled until it reaches the Supreme Court. Many places like Detroit will surely have to break some past promises—and rightly so. And given the size of many of the black holes, the state or federal government may have to help out. Taxpayers should not bail out feckless local governments or investors who should have known the risks. But they should help pensioners left stranded through no fault of their own. Some state and municipal workers do not qualify for the federal Social Security system; they get only the pensions promised by their employer.
If these do not materialise, there should be a backstop to ensure that they receive at least a basic pension.
Americans in virtuous states and cities will be just as furious about their tax dollars flowing to Detroit and other distressed places as Germans are about euros going to southern Europe. But the truth is that America’s whole public sector still operates in a financial never-never land. Uncle Sam offers an array of “entitlements” that there is no real plan to pay for. Barack Obama is on his way to joining George W. Bush as a president who did nothing about that, while Republicans in Congress imagine they can balance the books without raising taxes. The government spends more on health care than many rich countries and still does not cover everyone. America’s dynamic private sector is carrying on its back an unreformed Leviathan.
Detroit is merely a symptom of that.
No comments:
Post a Comment