Fall 2002 Voter's Guide Introduction
Governor; U.S. Senate and House
Portland City Council; Metro races
Oregon Legislature
...-near west
...-far west
...-inner east
...-outer east
...-south
LOCAL
Measure 26-33
Raises $50 million for a variety of services for needy children.
What's the fuss?
Too many kids arrive at kindergarten unprepared, drop out and wind up in the pokey.
What's the fix?
Money!
Here's the deal:
Who couldn't love a measure to raise $50 million for a "children's investment fund" to support programs that lower dropout rates and prevent child abuse?
We can't. Not only that, we'd like to award this measure with a blue-ribbon for exploitation.
We've got two fundamental gripes with M26-33. First, it's being offered up by Portland City Hall. Why is that a problem? Because the city is supposed to provide urban services, like fixing streets, busting bad guys and building sewers. It's the county that provides social services, like indigent health care, drug-abuse counseling and a raft of kids programs. The city has no experience managing such funds, while the county has been doing it for years.
So why is this a city, rather than a county, initiative? The driving force behind this measure, City Commissioner Dan Saltzman (a former county commissioner), says polling showed him that the measure would pass in the city of Portland, but not in greater Multnomah County.
Given that the vast majority of Multnomah County voters live in the city, we didn't exactly buy that argument. But we were more troubled after speaking to people at the county--including Commissioner Serena Cruz--who challenged that story. Instead, they tell us, Saltzman insisted this be a city measure.
We weren't exactly shocked to find an elected official seeking to burnish his reputation with some empire-building, but we were nevertheless disappointed.
Complaint No. 2 concerns the implementation of this measure. First of all, the $50 million figure came not from any analysis of need, but rather from polling, which determined that voters would be likely to support this amount. In addition, these funds would be administered by a five-member volunteer board with one staffer, which strikes us as inviting a vacuum of accountability. Even the county, which has scores of people who oversee the granting of funds to social-service programs, has managed to give money to organizations, such as Worksystems Inc. and the Urban League, that have squandered the funds (see "Salina Worrell Was Robbed," WW, July 3, 2002). We shudder to think what will happen if the city gets $50 million to dole out with so little oversight.
We love kids as much as anyone, but we'll save our money for more focused and logical efforts, like the parks and library levies which also are on the ballot.
Measure 26-34
Raises $49.4 million from property taxes for parks maintenance, repairs and recreation programs.
What's the fuss?
The city's parks are heavily used and lightly maintained.
What's the fix?
Money!
Here's the deal:
The city owns 10,000 acres of parkland, including 110 playgrounds and 150 miles of trails, but if you've recently tried to use a park bathroom, find your Frisbee in the grass or swim in a city pool, you probably know why this measure needs your support.
The parks department gets about half its budget from the city's general fund. The rest comes from fees for programs, golf courses and other pay-to-play operations. Due to chronic budget squeezes, however, the city has let about $60 million worth of maintenance slide since 1997--and the parks bear the scars.
Currently, the parks department only has enough dough to mow playing fields once a month; it also shut down two inner-city pools (and hasn't delivered on a promised pool east of 82nd Avenue). The bathrooms are either locked or filthy.
This measure would ding homeowners 39 cents per $1,000 of valuation for five years, which equates to $58.50 per year for the owner of a $150,000 home.
An identical measure, which we endorsed, received a majority of the vote in May but failed because of low turnout. In this general election, only a majority of those who vote is needed for passage, and we hope to see that happen. It's time to put money back into one of Portland's true treasures.
Measure 26-36
Raises $145 million for the Multnomah County Library.
What's the fuss?
The county's general fund cannot support the library at its current level.
What's the fix?
Voters must pay extra.
Here's the deal:
OK, we admit it. We were wrong. We opposed an identical library bond measure on the May ballot. Look, we endorsed Derry Jackson for the School Board a couple of years ago. Hard as it may be to believe, we do make the occasional mistake.
Five months ago, we were swayed by unhappy library employees and economic times more suited to driving a Pinto than a Lexus. Nearly six out of 10 voters who marked their ballots disagreed with us. But because fewer than half of eligible voters turned out, the measure failed, and we now get a second chance to think things over.
More than any public service, the library depends on supplementary taxes to pay for its operations. Currently, about half of the library's $44 million annual budget comes from a five-year levy passed in 1997. This measure would get the library through another five years without major cuts.
The good side of being so dependent on voters is that it forces the library to be accountable. By a number of measures, Multnomah County Library is more efficient than many of its peers. Take the Seattle Public Library. According to federal statistics, our library, which serves a slightly smaller population, has, per capita, about twice the circulation, 20 percent less staff and a 10 percent smaller budget than the one up north.
In May, we had concerns about whether library director Ginnie Cooper was a bibliophilic version of a rock star, building grand sets and hiring too many roadies. But based on our number crunching, we'd have to say she's giving the people what they want.
STATE
Measure 27
Requires labels on food containing genetically altered ingredients.
What's the fuss?
Scientists are altering the genetic structure of food. And they're not telling us!
What's the fix?
Label genetically engineered foods.
Here's the deal:
This measure, more than any on the ballot, had us excited. It seemed like a simple solution to an emerging concern. It pitted volunteer activists against corporate-paid lobbyists. And it seemed so Oregon to take a pioneering step for U.S. consumers.
After all, food labels already alert us to fat, chemicals and carbos, so why shouldn't chip lovers know if their Fritos were made with genetically altered corn? People in Europe, Japan, Australia and other countries with GE-labeling laws have the right to know what's in their food--why shouldn't we?
In the past, plant and animal genetic structures evolved over time thanks to evolution and breeding. Now, thanks to genetic engineering, scientists can boost crop yields and reduce pesticide usage by creating more robust, pest-resistant plants.
But the rapid pace of experimentation has caused increasing concern. As a result, we have Measure 27, which would require the state Department of Agriculture to ensure that all genetically engineered food produced or sold in Oregon is labeled as such.
The measure was put on the ballot by Donna Harris, a ballot-measure activist, and is backed by a broad coalition that includes the Oregon Democratic Party, the Sierra Club and U.S. Rep. Earl Blumenauer.
On the opposite side of this measure, the so-called "Coalition against the Costly Labeling Law" is funded by a Belgium-based biotech industry alliance, led by Monsanto, which plans to spend a record-breaking $6 million to defeat it.
The "No on 27" campaign has two basic messages: First, it says GE foods have been proven to be safe. That claim is genetically engineered bullpucky. While little evidence of harm from GE foods has yet surfaced, three reports in the past three years by the National Academy of Sciences have noted a lack of adequate safety studies, weaknesses in government oversight, and the potential for long-term health and environmental hazards.
Unfortunately, the second complaint against M27 is right on target: This proposal is horribly written. Even supporters of the concept admit it would label some things it should not, such as certain drugs that are not consumed as food, while failing to label some things that clearly should be tagged, such as plant cells exposed to hormones that alter their genetic structure. And its current wording could result in labeling food exports, putting Oregon farmers at a disadvantage.
Backers point out that this is not a constitutional amendment, so the state legislature could fix its defects. Of course, the state Legislature also should have been able to balance the budget without putting Oregon on the brink of a financial disaster.
The time for GE labeling has come. It's been embraced by everyone from Business Week magazine to the American Public Health Association, a moderate group of medical researchers and professionals. So while we cannot endorse this measure, we hope that it gets enough votes to prod federal policymakers to craft a national labeling law. If they don't, we encourage M27 backers to return with a better proposal in 2004. If they do, we'll be more inclined to give them our support.
Measure 26
![]()
Bans paying signature gathers based on the number of signatures they get.
What's the fuss?
Paying signature bounties invites fraud.
What's the fix?
Prohibit per-signature payment while maintaining other forms of payment, such as hourly wages.
Here's the deal:
Bill Sizemore is living proof: Corruption mars Oregon's initiative system. In September, a Multnomah County judge ordered Sizemore's Oregon Taxpayers United to fork over $840,000 in fines for accepting forged signatures. A witness testified to a sickening litany of abuses. Workers bought, sold, forged and traded signatures, turning John Hancocks into a cash crop.
As the Sizemore case makes clear, fraud clings to the pay-per-signature system like white on risotto. Petition profiteers--most of whom have no commitment to the issues for which they solicit signatures--have ample incentive to cheat. For them, it's all about the benjamins. While they make a buck, the initiative system gets a black eye.
WW continues to be a strong supporter of Oregon's initiative system, so we're wary of anything that would threaten it. And paying petition circulators per signature isn't the exception these days; it's the rule. Yet M26 opponents have failed to demonstrate its drawbacks. The Pacific Green Party and Lloyd Marbet, a veteran activist, claim a ban on bounties will bar them from getting issues on the ballot while throwing the door wide open for big-money interests, like unions, who support this measure. That's because per-signature payment, they argue, is more cost-effective than hourly wages. Perhaps, but Measure 29 is a safeguard we can't afford not to take.
Eliminating per-signature payment won't wipe out all forms of fraud in Oregon's initiative system. However, it will keep a middleman from making dirty money off your signature. That's good enough for us.
Measure 25
Boosts the minimum wage from $6.50 to $6.90 per hour and pegs annual increases to inflation.
What's the fuss?
Low-paid workers are getting screwed.
What's the fix?
Annual raises forever!
Here's the deal:
We really wanted to support this measure, which at first glance, seems like an easy "yes," maybe even a "hell, yes." It is disgraceful that, in a state with so many resources, so many Oregonians are scrambling to survive. The boom times of the past decade filled the pockets of the "haves" but left an army of the working "have nots" farther behind than ever.
The most compelling statistic is Oregon's shameful position atop the list of states with the highest percentage of hungry citizens. Anybody trying to get by on the minimum wage--which works out to $13,500 annually--is eating a lot of ketchup sandwiches and shopping at Goodwill, if they're shopping at all. Our lowest-paid workers haven't had a raise since 1999.
So if we bump the ante by 40 cents, that's got to be good, right?
Not so fast. First of all, the correlation between the minimum wage and hunger is unclear. For instance, Oregon has had one of the highest minimum wages in the country since 1999, and yet we still boast more empty stomachs per capita than any other state.
Worse, a forced wage hike could exacerbate our state's dire economic situation. That's because raising the minimum wage causes higher unemployment. It's an ugly truth, but an indisputable one.
At a time when Oregon already sits atop the jobless charts, this proposal seems a bit ill-timed.
Nor is the measure well-targeted. According to the Oregon Employment Department, half the nation's minimum-wage earners are food-service workers, many of whom receive tips. A "yes" vote might improve the lot of Washington County berry-pickers, but the same bump goes to waiters at Jake's who already take home multiples of the minimum.
Despite those quibbles, we might still endorse this one if not for a fatal flaw. In addition to bumping up the minimum wage in January, M25 requires that each September thereafter there be an additional increase based on the consumer price index.
Remember "stagflation?" (Hint: It had nothing to do with dirty movies and everything to do with the economic horror show of the 1970s.) A return to the era of double-digit inflation and economic recession could force massive layoffs of minimum-wage workers if this measure were to pass.
Measure 24
Allows denturists to install partial dentures.
What's the fuss?
Gap-toothed patients are getting shafted because denturists can't install "partial dentures."
What's the fix?
Let patients go straight to the denturist for their new gnashers, bypassing dentists and saving money.
Here's the deal:
Every so often, a bizarre ballot measure comes along to remind us why we have an initiative system in the first place. This is a perfect example. Ever since 1978, denturists have been allowed to make and install full dentures--in other words, a complete set of upper or lower false teeth--without incident. But a quirk in the law has prevented them from installing partial dentures--a molar here, a bicuspid there--a sacred trust hitherto reserved for dentists. The upshot, denturists say, is that patients are paying hefty dentists' fees for partials, when they could be saving money by going straight to the denturist.
Like many medical turf battles--optometrists vs. ophthalmologists, podiatrists vs. orthopedic surgeons, registered nurses vs. licensed practical nurses--this issue has been a perennial toothache in Salem. The denturists proposed this change in 1993, 1995, 1997, 1999 and 2001, but the dentists' lobby knocked it back each time.
Under the proposal, dentists would still make the diagnosis, perform the examination, extract the old teeth and clean the survivors, but denturists would be allowed to take impressions, fabricate and fit the partials, and make any necessary adjustments.
Dentists say that denturists are not trained to spot serious dental problems. They fear that patients will save a few cents but risk their remaining teeth. They complain that denturists only get two years of schooling; that many are not trained to fit partial dentures; and that denturists may not counsel patients on all their options to save their pearly whites, including dental procedures like root canals.
Ultimately, we think most of these arguments are self-serving. Denturists in Washington, Montana, Canada and Europe fit partial dentures with abandon, and we haven't heard any horror stories. Proponents reckon that patients will save about 40 percent on their dentures if this measure is adopted. We'll bite.
Measure 23
Implements universal health care in Oregon.
What's the fuss?
Our health-care system is a disaster. Thousands of poor and working-class Oregonians can't afford insurance, so they don't see the doctor.
What's the fix?
Dismantle the private insurance industry and set up a government-run system, funded by new taxes, in its place.
Here's the deal:
This is one of the most radical prescriptions ever written. Measure 23 would set up a single-payer health-care system in which every Oregonian had access to treatment, regardless of income. That means all health care--from ingrown toenails to triple-bypass surgery. Your tooth hurts? Go to the dentist. Your back aches? Call the chiropractor. Ran out of Prozac? Swing by the drugstore. No bills, no premiums, no co-pays, no deductibles, no hassle.
In this brave new world, paying a doctor for a visit would be like paying a firefighter to stop your house burning down. Instead, doctors, hospitals, drugstores and other providers would get their cash from the state of Oregon.
Now for the bad news. Proponents reckon that Oregon's medical bill will top $19 billion if this measure passes. To pay this fantastic sum, Measure 23 envisions three main sources of money. First, $7.6 billion from existing government programs like Medicare and Medicaid; second, $7 billion in new payroll taxes; and finally, $4.9 billion in new income taxes.
That's serious dough, people--triple the size of the entire state budget.
The new income tax would hover between zero and 8 percent, effectively doubling your state tax bill come April 15 (the proposed tax is progressive, hitting rich folks harder than the middle class).
The new payroll tax would tack as much as 11.5 percent onto employers' costs. On the other hand, they would no longer have to pay health premiums, so many would actually benefit.
We really, really want to endorse Measure 23, but our conscience gnaws at us.
We worry that proponents underestimated the costs. We fret that Oregon will be inundated with sick people from other states seeking "free" health care. We're squeamish about abolishing Medicaid, Medicare, the Oregon Health Plan and most of the State Accident Insurance Fund. We gulp at the thought of a massive state bureaucracy (Measure 23 would set up a 15-member board to run the program) with the power to define what counts as "medically necessary" and to set reimbursement rates for providers. We're particularly concerned about the squishiness of "medical necessity" and the rationing it implies. We're not opposed to rationing, but we'd like to know how it's supposed to work before we vote.
At the same time, we're sold on the idea that lies at the heart of this measure: By cutting out the insurance middlemen and their avalanche of paperwork, we could save enough money to provide health care to everyone.
We hope this measure fails by exactly one vote. We hope its supporters wrestle with the details and come back with a "Son of 23" next year. The health-care crisis is real, and it requires radical surgery. But, in this case, we'd like to get a second opinion before giving our consent.
Measure 21
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
Would force judges to run against "none of the above."
What's the fuss?
Oregon's governors keep appointing ultra-liberal judges who never face any opposition when they run for election.
What's the fix?
Make it easier for voters to strike back.
Here's the deal:
Don McIntire, the Gresham anti-tax activist who wrote the measure, is frustrated by what he says is the myth of judicial elections.
The former gym owner says the majority of judges initially get to the bench not by running for the post but by being appointed by the governor. Then, once a judge is on the bench, lawyers are reluctant to challenge them because it's hard to unseat an incumbent--and for fear that they'll lose and piss off someone who could make their lives miserable.
Unfortunately, McIntire's cure for this anti-democratic illness is ludicrous. He doesn't proposed a judicial "merit selection" system like the ones used in many states. Nor does he propose a salary hike for judges, to make these races more attractive to potential candidates. Instead, McIntire thinks voters should be able to choose "none of the above," which he argues would give voters an alternative to the lesser of two evils.
How would it work? Even McIntire isn't sure. Several newspaper articles have stated that if "none of the above" were to get more votes than a sitting judge, the position would become vacant until a new election. When questioned by WW, McIntire says he thinks the incumbent judge could remain on the bench until a new election.
Either way, it's just plain goofy.
In reality, this measure is intended to intimidate judges who make unpopular decisions--like throwing out illegally obtained evidence against nasty crooks. It would unhinge the constitutional balance envisioned by our republic's founders, which was for judges to apply the law dispassionately and serve as a check to the whims of voters and their elected representatives. Because so few people vote in judicial elections, Measure 21 might allow a small, organized minority to throw out a judge, even if he or she has no opposition in the race. As a result, this measure has the potential to create chaos in the courts.
Measure 22
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
![]()
Requires Oregon Supreme Court and Appellate Court judges to be elected by districts.
What's the fuss?
All but one of Oregon's top judges are from the Willamette Freakin' Valley!
What's the fix?
Put some judges from the sticks on the bench.
Here's the deal:
Unlike Measure 21, this measure makes a certain amount of sense: State legislators, members of Congress and Metro councilors are elected geographically--so why not judges? After all, of Oregon's current 17 Supreme Court and appellate judges, 16 of them come from Eugene, Portland and Salem. Isn't something amiss when the values and experiences of rural Oregonians are excluded from the state's top tribunals by a cabal of liberal urban lawyers?
In reality, the primary cause of the geographical disparity on the high courts is not quite so sinister: Judges have to be lawyers, and most lawyers in Oregon live and practice in the state's three largest county seats.
D'oh!
But this measure, like M21, is not about logic. It's all about politics. Co-author Steve Doell thinks judicial candidates from outside the north Willamette Valley will be tougher on crime and less likely to toss out flawed laws passed by voters. He may be right--after all, the loudest opponents to the measure definitely lean to the left. But this measure, like M21, would also make judges more vulnerable to the worst tendencies of voters (see above), as smaller districts would make it easier to unseat a judge who made an unpopular ruling, even if that decision were the correct application of the law. In addition, the measure would mean that in crucial higher-court seats, some of the best candidates would be excluded simply because of their address.
Measure 18
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
Allows certain tax districts to divide themselves into split-tax zones and establish permanent property-tax rate limits.
What's the fuss?
A previous ballot measure created headaches in a few tax districts.
What's the fix?
Adjust the Constitution to allow more equitable taxation in those few affected districts.
Here's the deal:
Unless you live in Deschutes County, you probably don't need to know a whole lot about this housekeeping measure, which will not create any new taxes and will require a majority vote by those affected for any changes to be made at all.
In a few Oregon outposts, rural and urban voters pay the same taxes for a service--such as the local sheriff--that they use disproportionately. As Bend has grown, for instance, city residents have come to depend increasingly on the city police instead of the sheriff for public-safety services but still pay the same rate for the sheriff's department as rural Deschutes County residents.
In other counties with a pronounced urban-rural divide, there are what is called "split-tax" districts. In such a case, the country folk would pay a higher rate for sheriff's services than city slickers. But because of language included in 1995's Measure 50, no new split-tax districts can be created. All Measure 18 will do is allow a vote on the creation of such a two-tiered structure. If such a vote were to succeed, citizens would still have to approve any tax increase, which would be limited by the constitutional caps that affect all other property taxes.
Measure 17
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
Lowers the minimum age for service in the Oregon Legislature from 21 to 18.
What's the fuss?
Salem is, like, denying itself the talent of brilliant teenagers.
What's the fix?
Adjust the Constitution to allow 18-year-olds to serve.
Here's the deal:
It's pretty simple, really. Should 18-year-olds--who, of course, can vote--have the right to run for the state Legislature? A number of city councils in Oregon (including Portland's) allow 18-year-olds to run, so why not the Legislature?
Don't get us wrong, the vast--and we mean vast--majority of teenagers we know should not be allowed near heavy machinery, let alone in office. But that doesn't mean that there aren't some exceptional young men and women whose ideas and energy might blast some cobwebs from the crypt otherwise known as the state Capitol.
Besides, Measure 17 has a bit of stealth to it that we think is just fine. Its passage won't result in a horde of teen lawmakers demanding that Ecstasy be covered by the Oregon Health Plan and the state song be changed to "The Real Slim Shady." But it may prod younger Oregonians to vote. That would be, like, a good thing.
Measure 14
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
Removes racial references from the Oregon Constitution.
What's the Fuss?
The Oregon Constitution is politically incorrect.
What's the Fix?
White it out.
Here's the deal:
Are there black Oregonians who can't get a job because the state constitution contains the word Negro? Is the cause of racial equality set back because Article VII, Section 14 says that counties having fewer than 10,000 "white inhabitants" must be reimbursed for court costs? No, but we support Measure 14 anyway. It would remove all references to race, including the words "white," "mulatto" and "Negro," from the original 1857 document.
Michael C. Marino, a Portland activist and author of the bill, says he spent $1.47 on the campaign. When asked if this is just another example of political correctness run amok, akin to banning Huckleberry Finn from school reading lists, Marino responds, "Huck Finn was not written by the U.S. government; Huck Finn is not law." But isn't it important for us to know what the Oregon Constitution used to say? "Not as important as what it says now," he asserts.
Besides, for those who believe that if we don't know our history we are condemned to repeat it, the original language would remain as part of the historical record and could easily be found in a library or online.
M14's passage would have no financial effect on Oregon. It also would have no demonstrable effect on people of color in our state. But sometimes a thing is worth doing just because it's the right thing.
Measures 15 and 16
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT
Allows the state to issue general-obligation bonds to make buildings earthquake-proof.
What's the fuss?
When the big one hits, the walls will come tumbling down.
What's the fix?
Let lawmakers raise $1 billion-plus.
Here's the deal:
We all know that Oregon is due for a big one sometime in the next 100 years. When the earth moves under our feet, we want our kids safe, our cops conscious and our ambulances able to get out of the garage and arrive at a standing hospital, not a pile of bricks. So some serious (and costly) seismic upgrades are in order. These ballot measures, which were referred by the 2001 Legislature, don't actually raise any money, but allow lawmakers to issue general-obligation bonds if and when they see fit. (They're constitutional amendments because floating GO bonds for more than $50,000 requires such a move.)
M15 would allow bonds for schools. M16 would allow bonds for cop shops, 911 centers, fire stations and hospitals. If both measures pass, $1.1 billion could eventually be raised for retrofitting and reinforcing such buildings. The bonds could be repaid from any pot of state money (excluding property taxes), such as lottery dollars, the tobacco settlement or the general fund.
Although neither measure has drawn any opposition, we have serious problems with both of them. Measure 15, which is limited to public schools, is the least objectionable. We don't doubt the proponents of this measure who say some districts are so strapped for cash that they'll never make their aging buildings safe without a state bailout--and the state is the chief funder of K-12 education. But some districts, including Gresham, Hillsboro and Beaverton, have already spent gobs of their own cash on seismic retrofitting. M15 penalizes them for being proactive.
But it's M16 that's got us really baffled. We, too, want police and fire stations to be safe, but isn't this a local government responsibility? And no taxpayers should pick up the tab for hospitals. Sure, most are nonprofit, but they already save millions of dollars by being exempt from property taxes. There's a reason the hospital lobby is backing this measure more eagerly than school districts.
The truth is, even if these measures pass, they won't do anything soon. Facing a probable $1 billion deficit, lawmakers who gather next year aren't going to put this at the top of their list. That means there's plenty of time for lawmakers to reconsider this problem and come up with solutions that make more sense.
WWeek 2015