Daniel Schulman with James Ridgeway
Mother
Jones
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
"the road is one succession of dust,
ruts, pits, and holes." So wrote Dwight D. Eisenhower, then
a young lieutenant colonel, in November 1919, after heading out
on a cross-country trip with a convoy of Army vehicles in order
to test the viability of the nation's highways in case of a military
emergency. To this description of one major road across the west,
Eisenhower added reports of impassable mud, unstable sand, and
wooden bridges that cracked beneath the weight of the trucks.
In Illinois, the convoy "started on dirt roads, and practically
no more pavement was encountered until reaching California."
It took 62 days for the trucks to make the trip from Washington,
D.C., to San Francisco, and another 37 years for Ike to complete
a quest, inspired by this youthful journey and by his World War
II observations of Germany's autobahns, to build a national road
system for the United States. In 1956, President Eisenhower signed
the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which called for the federal and
state governments to build 41,000 miles of high-quality roads
across the nation, over rivers and gorges, swamps and deserts,
over and through vast mountain ranges, in what would later be
called the "greatest public works project in human history."
So vital to the public interest did Eisenhower, an old-style fiscal
conservative, consider the interstate highway system, he even
authorized the federal government to assume 90 percent of the
massive cost.
Fifty years to the day after Ike put his pen to the Highway Act,
another Republican signed off on another historic highway project.
On June 29, 2006, Mitch Daniels, the former Bush administration
official turned governor of Indiana, was greeted with a round
of applause as he stepped into a conference room packed with reporters
and state lawmakers. The last of eight wire transfers had landed
in the state's account, making it official: Indiana had received
$3.8 billion from a foreign consortium made up of the Spanish
construction firm Cintra and the Macquarie Infrastructure Group
(mig) of Australia, and in exchange the state would hand over
operation of the 157-mile Indiana Toll Road for the next 75 years.
The arrangement would yield hundreds of millions of dollars in
tax breaks for the consortium, which also received immunity from
most local and state taxes in its contract with Indiana. And,
of course, the consortium would collect all the tolls, which it
was allowed to raise to levels far beyond what Hoosiers had been
used to. By one calculation, the Toll Road would generate more
than $11 billion over the 75-year life of the contract, a nice
return on mig-Cintra's $3.8 billion investment.
The deal to privatize the Toll Road had been almost a year in
the making. Proponents celebrated it as a no-pain, all-gain way
to off-load maintenance expenses and mobilize new highway-building
funds without raising taxes. Opponents lambasted it as a major
turn toward handing the nation's common property over to private
firms, and at fire-sale prices to boot.
The one thing everyone agreed on was that the Indiana deal was
just a prelude to a host of such efforts to come. Across the nation,
there is now talk of privatizing everything from the New York
Thruway to the Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey turnpikes, as
well as of inviting the private sector to build and operate highways
and bridges from Alabama to Alaska. More than 20 states have enacted
legislation allowing public-private partnerships, or P3s, to run
highways. Robert Poole, the founder of the libertarian Reason
Foundation and a longtime privatization advocate, estimates that
some $25 billion in public-private highway deals are in the works—a
remarkable figure given that as of 1991, the total cost of the
interstate highway system was estimated at $128.9 billion.
On the same day the Indiana Toll Road deal closed, another Australian
toll road operator, Transurban, paid more than half a billion
dollars for a 99-year lease on Virginia's Pocahontas Parkway,
and the Texas Transportation Commission green-lighted a $1.3 billion
bid by Cintra and construction behemoth Zachry Construction to
build and operate a 40-mile toll road out of Austin. Many similar
deals are now on the horizon, and mig and Cintra are often part
of them. So is Goldman Sachs, the huge Wall Street firm that has
played a remarkable role advising states on how to structure privatization
deals—even while positioning itself to invest in the toll
road market.
Goldman Sachs' role has not been lost on skeptics, who accuse
the firm of playing both sides of the fence. "In essence,
they're double-dipping," says Todd Spencer, executive vice
president of the Owner-Operator Independent Drivers Association,
a truckers' group that opposes toll road privatization. "They're
basically in the middle, playing one side against the other, and
it's really, really lucrative."
Despite such concerns, the privatization model has the full backing
of the Bush administration. Tyler Duvall, the U.S. Department
of Transportation's assistant secretary for transportation policy,
says dot has raised the idea with "almost every state"
government and is working on sample legislation that states can
use for such projects. "This is a ground battle in the United
States right now," he says. "States just need to be
convinced that this is basically something they should be considering."
The financial stakes are potentially huge. "You're buying
the infrastructure of the economy, and it's enormously valuable,"
says John Schmidt, who served as associate attorney general in
the Clinton administration and as counsel to the city of Chicago
on the $1.8 billion privatization of the Chicago Skyway, the 7.8-mile
freeway that connects the Dan Ryan Expressway in the west to the
Indiana Toll Road in the east. "[Private road operators]
haven't been able to get in here previously. There's been a demand,
and it's been bottled up because we just haven't had privatized
infrastructure in this country, so they've been buying toll roads
in Chile and in France. Now, they suddenly have the opportunity
to come into this country."
at the western end of the Indiana Toll Road, just over the Illinois
border, the scenery rolls by like the lyrics to a particularly
forlorn Bruce Springsteen song. Passing over Wolf Lake, infamous
in these parts as the site where "thrill killers" Nathan
Leopold and Richard Loeb dumped the body of 14-year-old Bobby
Franks in the 1920s, the highway skirts ghost factories and decaying
main streets until, outside Gary, the smokestacks give way to
cornfields and Christmas tree farms, and the scenery stays pastoral
across the length of northern Indiana. If you've ever traveled
cross-country on I-90, known here as the "main street of
the Midwest," you've driven the Toll Road.
Privatizing this 157-mile interstate artery was the brainchild
of Indiana governor Mitch Daniels, a former Eli Lilly executive
and the director of the White House Office of Management and Budget
between 2001 and 2003—a position in which he was known,
for his budget-cutting fervor, as "The Blade." Daniels,
by all accounts, began plotting the privatization of the Indiana
Toll Road soon after he took office in January 2005. The new governor
was inspired by Chicago's $1.8 billion Skyway deal but had something
far bigger in mind. Leasing out the Toll Road would be the centerpiece
of his transportation plan, "Major Moves," a name—borrowed
from a Hank Williams Jr. album—that Daniels said he came
up with while singing in the shower. Under the plan, Indiana will
spend nearly $12 billion over the next decade on highway construction
projects funded, in part, by the proceeds from the Toll Road lease.
By September 2005, the governor was soliciting bids for the project,
with Goldman Sachs serving as the state's financial adviser—a
role that would net the bank a $20 million advisory fee. The winning
company would maintain and improve the highway, with the lease
agreement spelling out its responsibilities down to the maximum
time allowed for clearing roadkill. In return, the company would
collect tolls, which it would be allowed to raise by a specified
percentage each year after 2010. The deal (including the 75-year
term chosen for the lease) was structured so the companies would
gain a huge tax advantage; to further sweeten the pot, the state
instituted the first toll increase in 20 years shortly before
the agreement went through, nearly doubling the rate for passenger
cars and gradually raising truck tolls 120 percent. (The toll
for cars was promptly frozen pending the installation of electronic
tolling, sometime before mid-2008; in the meantime, the state
is paying mig-Cintra the difference.)
Driving the Toll Road on a temperate late-summer morning, the
sun squinting through a thick covering of stratus clouds, it was
hard to find anyone who approved of Daniels' deal. "Our economy's
already bad," said Amber Kruk, an 18-year-old starting her
shift at a Perkins just off the highway in South Bend. "We
don't understand why we're giving this road to a foreign company."
Gassing up his flatbed at a service station off the Toll Road,
62-year-old trucker Richard DeRohan said he runs the road less
now because of the increased tolls. "It should have stayed
in state hands," he said. "I didn't like when they did
it in Chicago. It should be run by a public entity—they're
the ones who created it."
In a New York Times op-ed published in May, not long after Indiana's
state Legislature approved the Toll Road deal, Daniels acknowledged
that public sentiment had run almost 2-to-1 against the idea,
and then summarily dismissed the opposition: "Their hearts
were in the right place, but not their logic." Indiana, he
argued, "very nearly tore up its equivalent of a Powerball
check" as Hoosiers convinced themselves "either that
our proposal borrowed from the future, or that it gave away a
part of America to 'foreigners.'"
In fact, Daniels argued in a paper he wrote for the Reason Foundation
last spring, "any businessperson will recognize our decision
here as the freeing of trapped value from an underperforming asset,
to be redeployed into a better use with higher returns."
Yet his administration failed to commission an independent financial
analysis of the Toll Road project until the deal was almost done—and
when it did, internal emails obtained by Mother Jones show, the
motivation was primarily political. "Current criticism from
opposition is 'no independent analysis' and Scott and his team
have kindly volunteered to fill this void," one high-level
state official wrote in a February 2006 email, referring to Scott
Nickerson, an executive at the accounting firm Crowe Chizek, which
conducted the analysis.
The emails suggest that Daniels' administration remained preoccupied
with how to deploy the analysis to best political advantage—for
example, by releasing it through a third party, such as a think
tank. "The Governor is of the opinion that in order for our
response to be politically independent, he would prefer that Crowe
not be formally engaged to do this work," one email states
(emphasis in original). According to another, "Upon further
discussion, the group decided that it would be beneficial to be
engaged by a separate entity to allow us to perform the consulting
project and avoid the appearance of a lack of objective, independent
examination."
In the end, the "independent" analysis, released just
days before legislators were set to vote on Daniels' plan, found
exactly what the state had been arguing all along—that the
private-sector bid far surpassed what the state stood to earn
on its own. Near midnight on the final day of the legislative
session, after contentious debate, the bill squeaked through the
House in a 51 to 48 party-line vote.
Not everyone bought Crowe Chizek's conclusions, though. Roger
Skurski, a professor emeritus of economics at Notre Dame, analyzed
the deal extensively on behalf of an Indiana law firm that brought
suit to block the transaction. (The lawsuit ultimately failed.)
It was Skurski who found that the value of the road, over a 75-year
term, could be as much as $11.38 billion; in a letter to Rep.
Thomas Petri, the Wisconsin Republican who chaired the U.S. House
Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and Pipelines, the economist
wrote that "based on the State of Indiana's own studies and
figures...it seems that the conclusion changes from 'deal' to
'no deal.'"
"The public was ignored on this; public opinion was ignored
on this," says Dave Menzer, an organizer at Citizens Action
Coalition, an Indianapolis-based advocacy group that also joined
the anti-privatization suit. "I think that increasingly the
public feels like what's driving politics, what's driving these
decisions, is multinational corporations and deal-makers like
Goldman Sachs, Merrill Lynch, and Morgan Stanley. They're the
ones making tens of millions of dollars ultimately at the public's
expense."
Shortly after the coalition launched its campaign to stop the
deal, Menzer says, its six phone lines lit up with callers from
around the country seeking to help pay for the lawsuit. In less
than a month, it had helped raise nearly $120,000 toward the legal
bills. "We saw so many different interests coming together
saying that they didn't like this," he says. There were libertarians
and Republicans, who felt the state was giving away too much for
too little; long-haul truckers, who viewed the deal as the first
stage of a national trend that could threaten their livelihoods;
and environmentalists, who in the fine print of Daniels' "Major
Moves" plan had noticed an effort to revive (and possibly
privatize) a long-stalled project to construct Interstate 69,
the so-called nafta highway, through the farmlands of southern
Indiana.
So why did Daniels insist on pushing the project through in the
face of so much opposition? Daniels' office turned down Mother
Jones' requests for an interview, but quite a few Hoosiers have
come to believe that the governor could have been taking his cue
from Washington. In this scenario, Indiana, a bellwether state
in many ways, would serve as a test case. "Working to make
Indiana one of the first states to pave the way for road privatization,
to make a bad pun, was definitely his motivation," Menzer
says.
in mid-September, as the 61st United Nations General Assembly
convened in New York, the Waldorf Astoria's dim, ornate lobby
was teeming with diplomats and dignitaries who sat huddled in
armchairs, conferring in a multitude of languages. Rumor had it
that President Bush himself had dropped by the hotel the night
before.
Down the hall, in the chandeliered entryway that leads to the
Waldorf's Park Avenue entrance, 300 sharply dressed men and women
were carrying on a different sort of diplomacy. These delegates,
as they referred to themselves, were representatives from white-shoe
investment banks and consultancies; high-powered lawyers; executives
from the world's leading infrastructure companies; and, sprinkled
here and there, federal and state officials, who never seemed
to go long without being pulled into a conversation and handed
a business card. They were at the Waldorf for North American ppp
2006—a conference dedicated entirely to infrastructure privatization
in the United States.
As the conference opened, on the morning of September 19, Tom
Nelthorpe, the editor of the trade magazine Project Finance, addressed
the audience, drawing a laugh when he joked about pirates "plundering
the resources of the New World." "I hope you'll find
today's varied program evidence of a more sophisticated approach,"
he said.
Emerging markets rarely emerge solely on their own, and would-be
road operators have spent years working to convince state and
local officials that privatization is a no-lose proposition. It
has created something of an echo-chamber effect, says John Foote,
a senior fellow at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government who
specializes in transportation issues. "If you've got enough
people whispering in the ears of governors and mayors and so forth
saying that this is the greatest thing since sliced bread and
don't miss the boat, pretty soon people start believing it."
Perhaps the most tireless of the privatization advocates is Mark
Florian, the chief operating officer of Goldman Sachs' municipal
finance division, who advised Chicago and Indiana on their toll
road deals and says he has personally visited more than 35 statehouses
to "help spur the market." Florian was a speaker at
the Waldorf conference, and after his remarks in the hotel's lavish
ballroom, the Goldman Sachs executive—who bears a mild resemblance
to Stephen Colbert—was instantly mobbed, rock star style,
by delegates, all of whom seemed to be on a first-name basis with
him.
"I at times tell my colleagues that I kind of feel like
a missionary—out trying to sell the religion," Florian
told Mother Jones. "We have been heavily invested in this."
Florian's employer isn't just any old Wall Street firm. It is
one of the nation's most active and most profitable investment
banks, and top Goldman Sachs officials have served in numerous
administrations. Last summer, President Bush tapped its ceo, Henry
"Hank" Paulson, as secretary of the treasury. Another
former Goldman Sachs ceo is New Jersey governor Jon Corzine, who
in September commissioned an analysis of whether state assets,
including the New Jersey Turnpike, should be turned over to private
companies. In addition to advising Indiana on the Toll Road deal,
Goldman Sachs has worked with Texas governor Rick Perry's administration
on privatization projects, and according to Schmidt, the former
adviser to the Chicago mayor's office, it was a Goldman Sachs
representative who first pitched the city on the idea of leasing
out the Skyway.
That deal, which yielded $9 million in fees for Goldman Sachs,
was "an eye-opener" for the company, Florian recalls:
"That was a pretty phenomenal transaction. As soon as we
were involved in that and saw the potential application of doing
this more broadly, we were very excited about doing that."
After the Skyway lease closed, Florian says, Goldman Sachs was
inundated with calls from investors worldwide who wanted a piece
of America's transportation infrastructure. "We said, 'Well,
gee, if all these people are interested in investing, perhaps
we can create a vehicle for them to invest through,'" he
explains. To that end, Goldman Sachs put together an infrastructure
fund that, by the time Florian addressed the conference, had already
surpassed its original $3 billion target. Other investment firms,
including Morgan Stanley and the Carlyle Group, began putting
together their own funds. So appealing is the infrastructure market
that Goldman Sachs has made significant changes to its municipal
finance group to better position itself for a coming boom.
When Goldman Sachs began advising Indiana on selling its toll
road, it failed to mention to the state that it was putting together
a fund whose sole purpose would be to pick up infrastructure for
the best price possible in order to maximize returns for its investors.
Nor did the bank advertise the fact that, even as it was advising
Indiana on how to get the best return, its Australian subsidiary's
mutual funds were ratcheting up their positions in mig—becoming
de facto investors in the deal.
"The firm is an established adviser, but we also have this
big investment arm," Florian told Mother Jones, arguing that
Goldman Sachs' dual nature typically doesn't cause a problem in
corporate deals. "But this is a trickier marketplace, and
people are cognizant of that because it is so public. It's so
new.... We're going to really feel our way along here." A
Goldman Sachs spokesman later contacted Mother Jones to stress
that there is "a wall" between the firm's investment
and advisory divisions. "Asset management makes its investment
decisions independently of the rest of the firm," he said.
Asked whether the firm has a system to prevent conflicts of interest,
the spokesman demurred.
Florian says Goldman Sachs does have a system for avoiding conflicts
in situations when Goldman is a principal investor in a deal.
"We put in a voice mail and some information about that situation
and what our role might be, and it literally goes around the world....
It's a good system, but it's not always perfect." Indeed,
the system didn't stop Goldman Sachs last spring from vying to
advise the city of Chicago on a deal to privatize Midway airport—even
as it was seeking, along with other partners, to take over British
Airports Authority, one of the companies likely to bid on the
airport.
"One of the things we've learned in these recent corporate
scandals is that those firewalls may not be very soundproof,"
says Duane Windsor, a professor of business management at Rice
University and an expert on business ethics. "There is a
lot of leakage back and forth...that kind of problem where the
motives are so mixed that it's hard to tell why you are getting
a certain piece of advice.
"There's no reason to think the people in these companies
are abnormally honest," he adds wryly.
Dennis Enright, a principal at NW Financial Group, a New Jersey-based
investment banking firm that advises municipal governments, says
that in transactions involving vital public assets, investment
banks such as Goldman Sachs should be carefully watched. "It
does seem odd that they are effectively teeing up assets for their
corporate clients to buy," he says. "In most situations,
that wouldn't be deemed ethical." John Foote, the Kennedy
School fellow, also suggests that Goldman Sachs has "some
decisions to make. People don't want them playing on both sides
of the fence."
So, we asked Florian, does Goldman Sachs want to be an adviser
or an investor in the business of roads? "Both," he
replied.
since its emergence as a major political issue in the Reagan
era, privatization has become a default option for politicians
of both parties aiming to off-load everything from prisons and
welfare offices to Social Security. The movement has spawned its
own industry of contractors, consultants, think tanks (with the
Reason Foundation in the lead), and lobbyists; as a result, private
companies now do everything from feeding soldiers in Iraq to taking
welfare applications and even operating entire city halls for
towns such as Sandy Springs, Georgia, a city of 85,000 that has
outsourced its public works, administration, and finance to the
Colorado-based firm ch2m hill. But the brass ring has long been
seen to be the nation's enormous, and aging, infrastructure.
Roads, in particular, are ripe for the picking. Congestion is
increasing, and the Federal Highway Administration estimates that
it will cost $50 billion a year above current levels of federal,
state, and local highway funding to rehab existing bridges and
roads over the next 16 years. Where to get that money, without
raising taxes? Privatization promises a quick fix—and a
way to outsource difficult decisions, like raising tolls, to entities
that don't have to worry about getting reelected.
More often than not, those entities are foreign—primarily
because, unlike U.S. firms, foreign companies have years of experience
operating private toll roads in South America, Europe, and Australia.
One of the biggest among them is mig, a $6 billion subsidiary
of Macquarie Bank Ltd. The company operates roads in the United
Kingdom, Canada, and Germany, among other countries, but, as ceo
Stephen Allen told the Australian TV show Business Sunday in 2005,
"The attractive market to us is the U.S.... We're well positioned
in what we think could be a huge market." The company's annual
report offers an upbeat illustration of mig's business: a picture
of a sad-faced terrier alone in a living room at 6:10 p.m. ("Before");
a picture of the same terrier with attractive couple, in the same
living room, same time ("After"). "Our motorways
deliver people to places faster than if they used the often heavily
congested, slower alternative routes," the copy notes.
mig once owned 40 percent of Cintra (Concesiones de Infraestructuras
de Transporte, S.A.), a Spanish company whose holdings include
21 roads across Europe and the Americas. Cintra's 2005 annual
report describes the company as "one of the world's leading
private transportation infrastructure developers," and reassures
investors that it offers the magical combination of high profits
and "a low risk profile." Investors in toll roads face
stable revenues as well as expenses—and, best of all, "limited
competition."
Indeed, private road operators often insist on noncompete clauses
that limit governments from expanding nearby roads. In 2003, Orange
County bought back the lease for a set of pay-to-drive express
lanes in the median of Route 91, just so it could finally expand
the adjacent road. Toll road companies can even get governments
to do their enforcement for them: In July 2004, the consortium
that owns Toronto's 407 etr, a 67-mile highway that relies on
transponders and cameras to collect tolls, sued the provincial
government to force it to deny license plate renewals to motorists
who hadn't paid their tolls. In the end, the consortium, which
included mig and Cintra, was successful.
Over the past few years, the federal government has rolled out
the welcome mat for private road companies. The 2005 highway bill
changed the tax code to allow private firms to raise tax-exempt
financing for road projects, something that only governments were
able to do up to now. (For congressional pork buffs, this was
the same legislation that contained Alaska Republican congressman
Don Young's "bridge to nowhere," and that, by way of
homage to Young's wife, Lu, was named the Safe, Accountable, Flexible,
Efficient Transportation Equity Act—A Legacy for Users,
a.k.a. safetea-lu.) The bill also expanded eligibility for a transportation
subsidy program that includes loan guarantees and lines of credit,
and created a pilot program that lets participating states use
tolling to finance interstate highway construction and invite
private-sector participation on the projects. "It's a very,
very sweet deal," says a veteran congressional transportation
committee staffer who requested anonymity because of his role
advising members on highway policy.
one morning last May, Congress took up the issue of highway privatization
in a hearing of the House Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and
Pipelines. In attendance were D.J. Gribbin, a former chief counsel
to the Federal Highway Administration who went to work as a lobbyist
for Macquarie early last year; Goldman Sachs' Mark Florian; and
Governor Mitch Daniels, who was then a little more than a month
away from sealing his historic deal with Cintra and mig.
Referring to Indiana's decision to privatize its toll road, Daniels
told the committee that so far, no one in government has come
up with a workable solution to patch the gap between transportation
needs and available funding. "All across our state, hundreds
of road and bridge projects have been promised for years, in some
cases decades, with no source of funding and no hope of becoming
reality unless bold new steps are taken.... We looked at every
option to address this funding shortfall, from raising the state
gas tax [to] issuing more debt, increasing heavy truck fees, and
increasing vehicle registration fees, to name just a few. It was
clear that very few of these 200-plus projects would become reality
on a business-as-usual basis."
He later remarked, "Just as many business units are more
valuable if separated from their conglomerate parent, an asset
like a highway can be worth vastly more under different management."
The hearing was a fairly docile affair—that is, until Oregon's
Peter DeFazio, the ranking Democrat on the subcommittee, got his
turn questioning Daniels. "So you're saying that there's
no political will to raise the tolls," he began, "but
if you enter into a binding contract which gives a private entity
the right to infinitely raise tolls, then that'll happen—but
politically you couldn't say we're going to go out and raise the
tolls."
"Well, you're a busy man, Congressman," Daniels responded
dryly. "I don't expect you to understand our state."
"No, sir. I'm just asking a question," DeFazio shot
back, his voice rising. "Are we outsourcing political will
to a private entity here?"
When DeFazio spoke with Mother Jones months later, he was still
seething. Daniels, he said, "just screwed the state of Indiana
and the people of the state of Indiana." In his view, mig-Cintra
has "a license to print money here. They do the deal, put
money up front, turn around and go to a bank, which will gladly
give them whatever they want, and pay themselves back, and they
are left with equity and debt. They are projecting that they already
would have broken even around the 15th year. So we've committed
an asset for 75 years and after 15 years the state could have
been making money on it."
DeFazio continued, "When you look at the Chicago Skyway,
that's even worse. They are not even reinvesting the proceeds
of the sale in transportation. They're using them for operating
costs. That would be like anybody selling their assets in order
to live. You can't sell your assets very long to put food on the
table—before long you're out of assets. Chicago has sold
an asset, which will be extraordinarily profitable for the company
that got it."
DeFazio's take harkens back to Eisenhower and his vision of a
national highway system as vital to economic development, commerce,
and even national security. "It's a scam, basically,"
he says. "And you lose control of your transportation infrastructure.
It means you fragment the system ultimately. It just does not
make sense for an integrated national transportation system."
The transportation committee staffer echoes DeFazio's broad concerns.
"You're replacing a federal-state partnership with a public-private
partnership," he says, "and the whole idea of developing
a national transportation system may go by the wayside."
When asked whether private interests will begin to drive transportation
decisions, including when and where roads are constructed, he
responded, "Absolutely. They would definitely only go to
where the profit is." Just as the creation of a National
Highway System promised, in Eisenhower's words, to "change
the face of America," so too could its demise.
Ralph Nader, too, has been vocal in opposing the privatization
deals. Last February he wrote a scathing letter to Mitch Daniels,
comparing the toll road lease to the Louisiana Purchase, "only
Indiana is the France of this deal. You are taking a minuscule
up-front payment in return for a large downstream private profit
to a foreign company which is being handed a captive customer
base." Nader says he and other consumer advocates were late
to recognize the trend. "Who would have dreamed" that
the nation would begin actually selling off its core assets, he
told Mother Jones. "That's new. They caught everybody napping."
Some conservatives are also sounding the alarm. Phyllis Schlafly,
writing for the conservative publication Human Events in September
2006, tore into the recent privatization deals under the colorful
heading "Greedy Politicians Seduced by Siren Song of Filthy
Foreign Lucre."
"Why the rush to sell our transportation systems to foreigners?"
she queried. "'Follow the money' explains all. State and
local governments pocket the money upfront and get to spend it
here and now, so politicians can cover their runaway budget deficits
and enjoy the political rewards of spending for new facilities.
They ignore the fact that U.S. citizens must pay tolls to foreign
landlords for the next two or three or even four generations."
In some places, highway deals have already become campaign fodder:
In Texas, where Governor Rick Perry has proposed a $184 billion,
4,000-mile network of toll roads, which is expected to be financed
largely through public-private partnerships, the notion proved
widely unpopular, and independent gubernatorial candidate Carole
Keeton Strayhorn made the proposal a key target of her campaign.
"I don't think the people want anything that is riddled with
personal profiteering and enrichment, and this is riddled with
all of the above," she told Mother Jones last July. "This
is critical infrastructure and you are turning it over to a foreign
company with a secret contract."
Perry has refused to release many of the details of the $1.3
billion contract his administration has signed with Cintra for
a toll road from Austin to Seguin. The Spanish company has enjoyed
a cozy relationship with the governor's office: Perry's former
legislative director, Dan Shelley, worked as a Cintra consultant
and lobbyist prior to joining the governor's staff, and in September
2005, he went back to work for Cintra. Both he and his daughter,
Jennifer Shelley-Rodriguez, now have lucrative contracts to lobby
Texas legislators on the company's behalf.
More and more, the argument over private roads comes down simply
to the bottom line. Dennis Enright, the infrastructure expert
at NW Financial, says the most common argument for privatization
deals—that government simply can't come up with the kind
of big money private companies can mobilize—is a myth: "If
the public sector wants to raise $1.8 billion or $3.8 billion,
they can do it themselves" with standard financing techniques.
The problem with public-private deals, Enright argues, is that
the companies will cherry-pick the most profitable roads and leave
much of the public stuck in the slow lane. He offers this hypothetical:
"If you want to go on the Chicago Skyway during rush hour,
they can charge you a much higher price because it's premium travel
time. Now what does that do to the rest of the transportation
system? It puts all of those people who can't use the Skyway onto
the adjacent roads. Now the adjacent roads are backed up further.
Now [the Skyway] can charge even more because they have more of
a time advantage."
Enright concludes, "The private operator's fidelity is to
his stockholders—not to the public transportation system,
not to the people who use the road. His duty is to get the most
possible revenues out of the asset." Enright's firm did a
study showing that if a pricing scheme similar to the one agreed
to in Chicago had been applied to New York's Holland Tunnel for
the past 70 years, the toll would stand at $185 rather than the
current $6.
Higher tolls and a proliferation of private roads are certainly
in the nation's future unless the federal government delivers
some other solution to a looming funding crisis. The federal highway
trust fund, which is financed by the proceeds of the federal gas
tax, is running out of money—in part because lawmakers have
not dared to raise the tax, currently 18.4 cents per gallon, since
the mid-'90s. At this rate, the fund, which is the primary source
of money for federal highways, will be spending more than it takes
in by 2009. "A question has been raised about what the proper
federal role in transportation is," the transportation committee
staffer says. That question now faces Congress, which has responded,
in trademark fashion, by creating a commission. In 2005, as lawmakers
hefted safetea-lu onto the president's desk, they convened the
National Surface Transportation Policy and Revenue Study Commission,
with the lofty mandate of exploring ways to "preserve and
enhance the surface transportation system to meet the needs of
the United States for the 21st century."
The commission's chair is Transportation Secretary Mary Peters,
who is, as dot's Tyler Duvall puts it, a "tremendous champion"
of privatization. Joining her is Paul Weyrich, the founder of
the Heritage Foundation—the conservative think tank that
advocates privatization. Another commission member, Cornell economist
R. Rick Geddes, has suggested turning the U.S. Postal Service
over to the private sector. Geddes told Mother Jones that, while
he is not yet sold on the idea of private highways, he is "sympathetic"
to the model; he said the commission's recommendations, due by
July 1, will likely suggest a number of "tools in the toolbox."
DeFazio, however, fears the panel may have already made its choice.
"My understanding is it's turning more and more and more
toward a sole focus of how to justify the privatization of infrastructure—just
like Bush's Social Security commission," he says. "You
couldn't be on the commission to study the future of Social Security
unless you signed off in favor of a privatization solution in
the beginning. It sounds like they're trying to pervert the commission
we created to take the same direction."