Albany: Where NYC dreams go to die
Albany is giving the mayor agita. He wants something that would affect only New York City, and yet state lawmakers representing areas closer to Cleveland than Canarsie won’t deliver.
“The city should be in charge of its own destiny,” he thundered. “That’s why we had the revolution in 1776.”
That mayor wasn’t Bill de Blasio, but Mike Bloomberg in 2012, asking why upstate lawmakers from towns with perhaps a single stoplight can regulate how many red-light cameras New York City can use.
While the current mayor isn’t yet mulling Yankee Doodle-style insurrection, his anger at Albany is percolating. He wants higher taxes on city residents earning more than half a million dollars a year, to pay for pre-kindergarten and middle school afternoon programs. The reply from the north: Maybe. Maybe not.
“We’re a city of 8.4 million people,” de Blasio complained recently. “We’re larger than most states. Of course we should have the right to make our own decisions on revenue.” But we don’t.
It may surprise you it’s the state Legislature — and not, say, the City Council — holding the city’s fate. We often think of our mayor and our councilmembers as the city’s most powerful figures. But the city is a child of the state, and Albany has long been in control of many key decisions here. That’s in small part a relic of the ’70s fiscal crisis, when the broke city ceded financial oversight, but mostly it’s a simple matter of state law.
The governor largely controls our subways and buses through the MTA. State law gives New York City (and other places) power over its property taxes, and not much else — not congestion pricing, not a football stadium, not taxing commuters or the wealthy. The state could even dissolve the city’s government.
So what’s the new mayor to do to get his way? Longtime Albany dealmakers triggered a few thoughts:
First, de Blasio should visit Albany as often as he can. Saying no to someone is always harder face to face, and he may find others have better ideas for how his goals
The city proposes, the state disposes
can be attained. And while there, stay a while. Bloomberg always seemed to want to jet home (literally — he took his plane). Linger, perhaps even over dinner. (Try Athos on Western Ave.)
Second, don’t dis Albany. Ed Koch famously torpedoed his gubernatorial bid by lamenting to Playboy that upstate life meant having “to drive 20 miles to buy a gingham dress or a Sears Roebuck suit.” Bloomberg used to derisively refer to state lawmakers as the “Albany Legislature.” No one likes to have their jobs or hometowns mocked.
Third, realize it’s tough work. “Don’t underestimate how hard it is,” says Michelle Goldstein, Bloomberg’s second-term top Albany lobbyist. Of special note: He’ll need to decipher the wishes of Gov. Cuomo and Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver, Albany oracles who for years have had grown men pulling their hair out up and down I-87.
Fourth, remember that it’s sometimes about politics. De Blasio may recognize this more than Bloomberg, who seemed to think a proposal’s merit would assure its passage. Arm-twist, cajole, buy off — keep it legal, but effective.
“There are a lot of things that the mayor can do to help the different members of the legislature in terms of helping them in their districts, helping their constituents with various programs,” says Skip Piscitelli, the city’s top lobbyist under Rudy Giuliani and Bloomberg. “He has a tremendous amount of resources that he can bring to bear.”
Finally, don’t be too kind to one side. Bloomberg donated eye-popping sums to Senate Republicans. They carried his water — but that arrangement often irked the Assembly Democrats he also needed.
De Blasio has rarely missed a chance to knock the GOP — like when he brushed off the idea of hiring Republicans for his administration by saying “let’s not get crazy about this diversity idea.”
Partisan criticism of Republicans may play well on the Lower East Side, but not in Lockport.