headline
Full Text:
CBIA: The Garbles Voice Of Business
By Bill Collins
Businessmen have come to town,
Here to change our laws around;
If you help them make their gain,
They may help with your campaign.
CBIA is a familiar acronym at the state capitol, though it may not be on the
tips of tongues elsewhere. It stands for Connecticut Business and Industry
Association, a sort of statewide chamber of commerce. Its highest visibility,
outside of legislative hearing rooms, comes in state election years. Then it
erects incomprehensible billboards along our highways, touting its convoluted
message.
CBIA's dilemma is the classic one facing most business groups - how to put a
respectable face on avarice. This year, as at the start of every legislative
session, it has offered humble advice to lawmakers. Cut spending and taxes, it
says. Especially business taxes. And improve education and transportation
while you're at it.
Some might view these as conflicting goals, but this is not a line of work for
those with hang-ups about consistency. One way they suggest to cut spending
without doing harm is to privatize some state services. CBIA members could
then contract to do plenty of that work cheaper, notably because they often
pay lower wages and benefits.
Another mixed message this year concerns electricity. Unlike many of its
members, who are drooling for competition to undercut Northeast Utilities,
CBIA urges caution. It also recommends that Northeast Utilities be relieved of
its responsibility to buy up the extra power produced by local self-suppliers.
Coincidentally, CBIA's new chairman is Bernard M. Fox, president of that same
Northeast Utilities. Given Northeast's dismal record of speaking openly about
its nuclear plants, Mr Fox's elevation adds one more layer of tarnish to
CBIA's image. It's like electing Al D'Amato or Bill Clinton to chair the
Ethics Committee.
But the state Department of Social Services has chosen to overlook any such
conflicts of interest. Perceiving some hidden goodwill lurking behind these
character lapses, it has awarded CBIA $1.6 million to figure out how to get
small businesses to hire welfare recipients. That $1.6 million should help
markedly with the association's annual budget. And dare we hazard a guess as
to the result of the research? Maybe, just maybe, it will recommend
subsidizing businesses.
The award of this tasty contract, and the deference CBIA receives at the
capitol, might make you wonder where it gets all that clout. Surely not from
its opaque billboards or its transparent advice. No, its clout comes from
money. Its members contribute generously to political campaigns, and it pays
plenty for a stable of experienced lobbyists.
You can almost feel sorry for those lobbyists. They work hard, faithfully
representing Connecticut's richest special interests. But behind their backs
is always the snickering. Capitol insiders love to deride CBIA's embarrassing
attempts to feign concern for the state's general welfare.
But contrasting with CBIA's advice to cut state spending, there are compelling
reasons to spend more. One is the expected costs of implementing Sheff v
O'Neill. Another is the revelation that 19 percent of Connecticut kids live in
poverty. A third is the terrible neglect of our state parks.
Meanwhile CBIA-member Aetna gives Zoe Baird, age 44, a tidy departure package
of $3.5 million, and Lawrence Fish, head of the Citizens Bank conglomerate,
gets a bonus of $3.2 million. Under the circumstances, CBIA might gain maximum
respect by simply having the decency to shut up.
(Bill Collins, a former mayor of Norwalk, is a syndicated columnist.)
