“Mission creep” is generally understood to mean the gradual or incremental expansion of a project or mission beyond its original scope. In military parlance, it describes when an operation becomes wider in scope than its initial objectives, which can lead to unintended, and even disastrous, consequences.
Mission creep is especially prevalent in government bureaucracies. How often do we see an agency gradually expand its defined mission statement to include new issue areas or programs? At the federal level, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) is the champion of mission creep. According to an EconoStats case study, the original mission of the CDC was to research, understand, and combat communicable diseases that pose a health risk to society. In 1992 the purview of the CDC began to encompass both communicable diseases and noncommunicable diseases, creeping into oversight of such areas as dieting and alcohol consumption. Later, it was expanded even further to include occupational safety, global health, birth defects and developmental disabilities, chronic diseases, non-occupational injury prevention, and crime (by defining “gun violence” as a public health issue).
The problem with bureaucratic mission creep is not only losing focus away from a primary responsibility, but without clear lines of demarcation, agencies start intruding on the “turf” of other agencies. In the case of CDC, its mission creep currently duplicates the work of over 19 other government agencies.
In California, there are several state and local agencies that deal with housing issues. At the state level, the California Department of Housing and Community Development (HCD) develops housing policy, administers housing finance, economic development and community development programs. It also reviews the housing elements of regional governments drafted by each region’s Council of Governments through the Regional Housing Needs Assessment (RHNA), which must be adopted by the jurisdiction, which is then responsible for ensuring there are enough sites and proper zoning to accommodate its RHNA allocation.
Given the myriad of existing government agencies dealing with housing, it is surprising that school districts have now expanded their portfolio into housing. What is not surprising is that they are not very good at it.
Earlier this month, the San Francisco Chronicle reported that the Mountain View Whisman School District, a Silicon Valley school district with a history of controversial spending and mismanagement, drew the anger of parents and taxpayers over its handling of “a lavish, over-budget teacher housing project, including the recent purchase of a $2,500 swivel chair and other pricey furnishings.”
The fact that school districts are even in the housing business is odd, but the history is illuminating. In 2000, Proposition 39 lowered the vote threshold for local school bonds from two-thirds to 55%, creating the first exception to a taxpayer protection that has been a part of the constitution for almost 150 years. (Last November’s Prop. 5, which sought to lower the vote threshold needed to approve debt for a broad range of projects and programs was soundly rejected by voters.)
Prop. 39 was sold to the voters as providing critical infrastructure for school facilities. There is nothing in the language of the measure, the ballot material or the implementing legislation suggesting that anything other than school facilities would be financed with local bonds. But because school bonds are the only local general obligation bonds that can take advantage of the lower threshold, it isn’t surprising that special interests would try to shoehorn all sorts of non-education-related infrastructure to take advantage of the 55% vote.
Last year, the legislature considered Assembly Bill 2571, which would have broadened the specified purposes for which school bonds could be issued. But not only was the proposal inconsistent with the plain language of Prop. 39, it never passed. This calls into question the legality of any Prop. 39 bond that envisions the construction of “workforce housing.”
Here’s an idea. Schools should focus on education and eschew expanding their bureaucratic turf into housing. And all bureaucracies should take care to “stay in their lane.”
Jon Coupal is president of the Howard Jarvis Taxpayers Association
