In a memo to his colleagues accompanying his proposed ordinance, Francesconi cites 15 major policy actions the council took in 2000. Not one of the 15 was originally proposed by him."

by PHILIP DAWDY
pdawdy@wweek.com

Jim Francesconi is either on a noble quest to improve the democratic process or trying to find a way to cover his political ass.

The commissioner-who-would-be-mayor is still smarting from recent votes that he thinks made him look bad. In 1999, he got a tongue-lashing from the downtown business crowd after voting against a tax break for Freightliner. Last year, council colleagues and bleeding hearts blasted him when he opposed spending $1 million for Multnomah County's early childhood development program.

In both cases, Francesconi was pained by the prospect of pissing someone off over a collision of the city's goals. And, in both cases, he complained that he didn't have enough information.

So, this week, Francesconi will float a solution: an ordinance requiring that all major proposed city policies go through a four-week review process before coming to a vote. That's on top of the already-grinding process that many council actions go through, from attorneys' opinions to transportation studies.

As is typical in City Hall these days, the proposal is heading for a split vote on Feb. 28.

Commissioners Erik Sten and Charlie Hales say Francesconi's plan is not needed. "It's not like we make slap-dash, cavalier decisions here," says Hales, who recently navigated the tortured route to passage of his skateboard ordinance.

"It's a little bit wonkish," Sten agrees. "What makes a city great isn't bureaucratic analysis, it's leadership."

Still, it looks as though Francesconi is about to pull off something Mayor Vera Katz herself can't these days: beating Sten and Hales on a 3-2 vote. That's because Commissioner Dan Saltzman's heart beats fast for analysis; he's a probable yes vote, along with the mayor.

How would Francesconi's system work? Currently, if the Office of Transportation needs a new garage, it simply acquires the land and permits, leaving Hales, commissioner-in-charge, to slide an ordinance through City Council. But, as Francesconi notes, the plans might clash with the city's development goals (shepherded by Katz) or be toxic for the city's environmental goals (Saltzman's bailiwick).

That could lead to bad policies and blood on the council floor.

Francesconi's cure is for all the affected bureaus to look at the project through their own lenses; then, the folks at the Office of Management and Finance--who've suddenly become the force in the city's bureaucracy--will reconcile the bureaus' analyses into a separate opinion.

You might call it a bureaucratic impact statement. "Maybe it's the lawyer in me, but I want as much information as possible when we are dealing with issues that impact major city goals," Francesconi says.

For those who've watched the council deliberate, it's a common and, for some, wearying refrain. Francesconi so frequently appeals to the City Attorney's Office for more information that City Hall wits have suggested he be assigned a personal lawyer.

Hales and Sten say voters elected them to play Solomon when city goals collide. "It's always
easier for a bureaucracy to dither," says Hales, "and this proposal seems to play into this most unfortunate trait in government."