If you’ve ever been to a local government meeting of any kind you already know how incredibly boring they can be. Attendance at these meetings is always low, unless there is some issue at hand that directly affects someone, and they’ll stay just long enough to hear about their issue. I don’t blame them.
One of the reasons I go to these meetings is because I have a weird fascination with pointing out that elephant in the room; the one that everyone pretends is not there. I’m also willing to talk about the elephant openly, which gets me into trouble sometimes. One of my friends jokingly calls me “the Most Hated Man in Maple Valley.” That’s OK. We can’t solve issues unless we’re willing to talk about them.
In small governments and towns, though, it’s difficult to confront people directly, because you have to live and work side-by-side with them. You’re likely to run into these people at the grocery store, and be forced into an uncomfortable “hello”.
So, the meetings must continue to be boring. But it’s because of this boringness that allows elected officials to get away with more than they normally would. No one is paying attention.
When I went to a Valley Medical Center commissioners’ meeting last week, I thought I would be in for more of the same, but I was wrong. It’s gotten to the point of open hostility between the staff plus three commissioners and the two “reform” commissioners.
During a discussion of a huge multi-billion dollar potential merger/alliance with University of Washington Medicine, the staff attorney quickly shot down the few probing questions from the reform commissioners as “perplexing” and “nonsense.” The hospital’s outside attorney dismissed people opposed to the merger as if they were misguided children and didn’t bother to address any of their concerns. Two of the three staff-friendly commissioners were equally hostile to any opposition.
The crowd at the meeting also drank the hospital Kool-Aid, with a handful of vice presidents taking notes and shaking their heads in disagreement whenever there was dissent. Even the people who came for public comments were very pro-merger, including one lady who is so in love with the idea of this alliance that she’s already decided to live nearby so she can take full advantage of all this new health care access (as if she had previously been denied access before). I’d never been to a cult meeting until that day.
This should be fun.
So what’s all the fuss about? Money. Property tax money, specifically, because many of the concerns of the reform commissioners are about the possible misuse of that tax money. The salaries are very high, and the CEO of Valley received $1.73 million in retirement money, although he probably won’t retire anytime soon. His Valley salary is about five times higher than the award-winning UW Medicine director’s salary, even though UW Medicine is much bigger than Valley Medical ($5 billion per year in revenue, versus $1 billion for Valley).
Even all of the 11 Valley vice presidents each make more than the director of UW Medicine. Despite this, the three Kool-Aid commissioners voted in another year of incentive payments on top of their high salaries.
Is this illegal? Probably not. Is it sleazy? I’m not sure I’d go that far. Are the Kool-Aid commissioners personally benefiting? There’s no evidence of that. I think I’d go with “wildly inappropriate” and “irresponsible.”
The potential merger with UW Medicine has many potential pitfalls which I’ll address in later columns. The worst part is that the proposals include widening the oversight committee from just the current five elected officials to a total of 13 positions, with eight of them being appointed by the staff. Let me restate that: these eight appointed officials would hold a majority, and could decide the salaries and bonuses of the people who helped get them appointed. Personally I find cronyism despicable, especially with tax dollars, and I hope you do too.
In the meantime, we should demand that the commissioners who are elected to be our public oversight committee will ask tough questions, since many millions of public dollars and assets are at stake. But, with the reformers in the minority, we’re not getting those tough questions answered.
It’s time for some cult-busting, and for me to get my next title as the “Most Hated Man in Renton.” Stay tuned.