Of all the cuts Gov. Jon Corzine has proposed in his budget for the fiscal year that will begin less than two months from now, none has drawn more attention — or opposition — than the potential closing of numerous parks and recreational facilities across the state.
Environmental groups have criticized the governor’s plan as shortsighted and mean-spirited. Republicans have cast it as a ploy to raise taxes. Outraged citizens from Cape May to High Point have filled the pages of daily and weekly newspapers with letters to the editor lamenting the possibility that their favorite summer swimming hole or picnic spot might be shut down. Apoplectic callers to radio talk shows call for the governor’s impeachment.
We have yet to meet anyone who is in favor of closing state parks — and we suspect Gov. Corzine has yet to meet anyone who has congratulated him on the wisdom of his plan.
But, at the same time, we have yet to hear from anyone — environmentalists, Republicans, letter-writers, angry callers — that they’re prepared to offer any reasonable and responsible alternatives.
The Department of Environmental Protection, which oversees the state parks, has floated the idea of asking businesses to “adopt” some of these facilities to help make up for lost state revenue. But DEP officials have said they won’t give away naming rights, so the only incentive they have to offer is a bit of good will (which, given the DEP’s relationship with the business community, might actually go a long way). Still, it’s unlikely that the private sector is going to dig down deep enough to keep the parks open after July 1.
What the critics offer, meanwhile, is the usual warmed-over litany of glib, gratuitous suggestions we hear every time somebody’s sacred cow is threatened. We hear it from the farmers who don’t want the Department of Agriculture to be abolished; from the college professors and students who don’t want aid to higher education cut; from the homeowners who don’t want their rebate checks taken away; from the Medicaid recipients who don’t want their co-pays to rise; from the state employees who don’t want their paid holidays and sick days reduced.
Cut the fat. Root out the waste and inefficiency. Stop the corruption.
In other words, go after somebody else’s sacred cow. Leave ours alone.
This is an easy position for advocates to take. It’s an impossible one for governors and legislators who need to fill a $3 billion hole in a $33 billion budget. Because of the magnitude of the budget gap, virtually every department of state government is poised to take a hit this year. And the only discretionary money the DEP gets — money that comes from general state revenues, rather than fees and fines paid primarily by regulated industry (all of which is earmarked for administering regulatory programs) — goes to pay for the state parks. Cut the regulatory programs instead and industry will have legitimate cause to howl in protest. Spare the DEP altogether, forcing other department to cut more to make up the difference, and the State House will be overrun by demonstrators representing other constituencies.
Even in the best of times, crafting a state budget is a tough task. It involves setting priorities, then aligning resources to meet those priorities. When times are tough, the job gets much tougher. It involves cutting programs, reducing services, laying off workers and disappointing constituents. But it has to be done — and those who criticize elected officials for doing what has to be done, without offering specific and responsible alternatives, aren’t helping this unpleasant situation one bit.
