Maricopa County Supervisor Don Stapley's legal troubles provide an instructive window into much of what's wrong with Arizona. He was indicted by a grand jury on 118 felony counts for properly failing to disclose his real-estate dealings. The first "tell" on the case is that it's being pushed by Sheriff Joe Arpaio and County Attorney Andrew Peyton Thomas, who are hardly the most reliable figures in law enforcement. As New Times' Sarah Fenske pointed out:
Arpaio obtained a court order to purge his real estate records from
county files. Arizona law allows judges, cops, and prosecutors to
petition the court to keep their home addresses and telephone numbers
out of county records.
That's right. The sheriff of one of the most populous counties in America had deals for shopping strips going on the side.
One could say this isn't surprising in a state with no real economy except land deals and a highly incestuous power elite. For example, widely-cited local economist Elliott Pollack is a also a developer. Not a software entrepreneur. Not a CEO of a life-sciences company. Not the boss of a cutting-edge photovoltaic outfit or even a machine shop. A developer. It's the only game in town. I'm sure it never influenced his constant cheerleading for real estate until the roof fell in with such force. But can you imagine another big city — if Phoenix really is a city — with such a limited economy? Or with so many conflicts of interest and lack of independent voices or centers of economic power? Such is the Real Estate Industrial Complex.
With people like Arpaio, however, all this adds an even deeper layer of the intellectual corruption of the town. Who knows about Peyton, who profited from the only other growth industries in Phoenix: reactionary politics and anti-immigrant hysteria (where the sheriff is no slouch, either). So whether Stapley is ultimately guilty of a paperwork oversight or something more serious, the prosecuting pots are certainly proclaiming that the indicted kettle is black. So much for selfless public service. I suspect if the Stapley standard were applied widely, most of the Legislature would be in the calaboose, and a good thing, too.
When I was a columnist at the Arizona Republic, I was asked to make some suggestions about what the editorial board and reporters should ask gubernatorial candidates in the 2002 race. At the top of my list was, "What is your connection, and that of your family, to the real-estate industry." Notice I was not naive enough to phrase it "Do you have a connection…?" The point was that most of the state's most serious issues were connected to a runaway industry. So let's at least tell readers about the players. My idea went into the circular file. Yet even the sainted Janet Napolitano was bankrolled by Jim Pederson, a decent and progressive guy but…a developer. Not the president of a major locally based bank. Not the head of a nationally ranked non-profit. Not the chief of a global logistics hub headquartered in Phoenix. A developer.
The local media have never had much appetite to follow these strings. And yet the real-estate controlled Legislature, county supervisors and city councils make critical decisions on land use, water and infrastructure. It is no surprise that Arizona is a disaster of unsustainable sprawl, a looming water crisis and subdivisions that privatized profit to the few while pushing forward the big public costs of everything from roads and schools to the equally pricey consequences of filthy air and ruined ecosystems. It is no surprise that economic development has lagged, or that Arizona's public investments are years behind — we can't possible tax the industry of which we are a part. You don't even need envelopes of bribe money, under-the-table loans in exchange for favorable land-use decisions or overt self-dealing — although we'll never know. The result is much the same.
The Stapley case is also a reminder of the disaster of county government in Arizona. Counties have immense power, yet are usually led by supervisors who are either yokels, or ideological hacks, or political bench warmers (often all three) — all incapable of grasping the complex issues before them. This is especially true in Maricopa County, a highly urbanized region with complicated urban problems, competing in a world economy that values talent and innovation far more than shopping strips and "master planned communities." It's fun to laugh at the supes as Arizona hillbillies, but their neglect and active opposition to progressive policies makes them one more menace in a state with so many.
As TS Eliot once observed, Mankind cannot bear very much reality. In Arizona, denial is the necessary ticket price to be taken seriously. That’s explains why an Eliott Pollack is still given a seat of honor on Horizon. To suggest limits to growth is tantamount to loudly farting.
For the time being, we can enjoy our ringside seat at the economic apocalypse. Will Republicans find the hand of Jesus in budgets gouged of spending for the poor and young? I suspect.
It’s safe to assume we’re not going to pro-actively improve this state of affairs. But that doesn’t mean some advantages won’t accrue from the collapse itself. There are master-planned communities that won’t be built. There are behemoth shopping centers plans gathering dust on drafting tables. And there’s the land swaps that won’t happen for want of market demand. As Jack Williams used to say, Leave us all enjoy it.
It is remarkable. I think Phoenix really is depopulating. The large number of empty homes, apartments, and now businesses. You can buy a 4000-sq-ft house in Maricopa for $110K but nobody wants to live that far from what jobs remain. When the developers finally lose, the rest of us will win.
After the first paragraph, I was having flashbacks to Arizona Dreams: A David Mapstone Mystery.
Reading further led me to remember some of Travis McGee’s adventures (penned by John D. McDonald) in the older world of Florida real estate.
They make for great stories but depressing news.