One evening last month, the mayor of Detroit, Dave Bing, took to the podium at a downtown theater. The occasion was the state of the city address, and despite the mayor's best effort to project optimism, the truths facing America's 11th largest city are grim. The budget deficit is at least $85 million. The police department doesn't have the money to safeguard Detroit's vast, sparsely populated territory. The school system is a mess, and its emergency financial manager plans to shut nearly a quarter of the city's public schools by summer. Bing plans to shrink Detroit's government and shed thousands of jobs an unpopular proposition in a city already boasting a 25% unemployment rate. Outside the theater, protesters waved signs that read, "FIRE THE MAYOR," and "SAVE OUR CITY." Inside, Bing spoke plainly: "We've been hit the hardest by what many call 'the Great Recession.' We simply cannot afford to continue down this road." Days later, an independent report would suggest that Detroit's actual budget deficit might be $400 million, and that the best route for survival is possibly bankruptcy.
Yes, Detroit is a city in crisis. But it is hardly alone. From San Jose, Calif., to Atlanta, cities are grappling with budgets that clearly show that the effects of this recession are far from over. In New York City, Mayor Michael Bloomberg may lay off thousands of teachers to close a $4.9 billion budget deficit. Phoenix, a city hit especially hard by the housing crisis, recently imposed a 2% emergency tax on retail food to help resolve a $245 million budget shortfall. In Los Angeles, Mayor Antonio Villagiarosa is considering privatizing city-owned parking garages and meters, and cutting his city's workforce from 14,000 to 10,000 this year to close a $485 million budget deficit. "We're eviscerating the level of services people expect," he says, "but I don't have a lot of options." The mayor of Kansas City, Mo., Mark Funkouser, is wrestling with how to pay for a $2.4 billion sewer upgrade in a city closing dozens of public schools. "These infrastructure builds are simply too big to handle on our own," he says. Already, the mayors of Phoenix and Philadelphia have asked the federal government for $50 billion to support various infrastructure improvements, like bridges. Detroit's mayor has visited the White House at least twice in recent months, and says, "It's going to be very difficult for us to come back without some massive federal support."
But will cities get the support they want from Washington? Given President Barack Obama's race and background as a community organizer in some of the bleakest stretches of Chicago's South Side, expectations were high that his administration would be the first in nearly four decades to substantively deal with the challenges facing urban America. He was called the country's first "urban president," and even created the first White House Office of Urban Policy. Obama has said that his administration's policies, like the American Relief and Recovery Act, and the then-pending health care package, would help cities, that they would "disproportionately impact African-American and Latino families, simply because they're the ones who are most vulnerable." But so far, that very broad approach has proved a disappointment to his urban supporters. Says Congressman John Conyers of Obama's urban policy: "It's been made a low priority."
Congress does have jobs bills on the docket that mayors would love to see passed. For example, the $75 billion Local Jobs for America Act recently proposed by Rep. George Miller, the California Democrat, would steer around $53 million to cities, to prevent job cuts and hire essential municipal employees, and non-profit workers who can supplement city services. The bill, says Chris Hoene, director of policy research at the National League of Cities, "may stop the bleeding," at least in the short-term.
But action on urban issues carries political risks for the President. Any federal help for cities that smacks of a bailout might push Obama's image further left as the November elections approach. The Miller bill, for example, would be funded by deficit spending. Even Michigan Republicans, who know that a healthy Detroit is critical to their state's success, want to see any aid to the city and others thoroughly justified. Says Rep. Pete Hoekstra, from the western part of the state, "If the federal government is going to be putting money into urban centers, we ought to fight for every dollar that we can," he says. "But it shouldn't be used to prop up a broken Detroit. It should be used for a new Detroit."
If Obama were to increase federal aid for cities, it would likely come in very focused initiatives that fit Hoekstra's criteria. "It becomes more about targeted investments that can help a city like Detroit reinvent itself," says Hoene. These initiatives would vary from city to city, but three Detroit examples highlight why this might be more palatable politically than a bailout.
Land. Given that much of Detroit's 138 square miles of land is eerily vacant, the city would like to use this to woo new business. For example, Mayor Bing would like to see lithium-ion battery manufacturers (funded by nearly $2 billion in grants from the Obama administration) build their plants on this abandoned land. If the federal government would commit more dollars to clean up brownfields and remove blighted buildings, manufacturers would be more interested in setting up shop in Detroit. The region is already home to many highly-skilled scientists and engineers laid off by the auto industry. But, says Bruce Katz, head of the Brookings Institution's Metropolitan Policy Program, "the federal government's commitment to brownfield remediation is not sufficient to deal with restructuring at this state."
Schools. In 2009, Obama's education secretary, Arne Duncan, called Detroit "ground zero" for education reform in America. In the past few months, an unusual coalition of philanthropic, business and political leaders have crafted a plan to commit nearly $1 billion in private money over the next 5 years to create a robust marketplace of public, private and charter schools. Their ultimate goal: boost high school graduation rates from the current 58% to 98% by 2015. The Obama administration could support these efforts with resources targeted to specific innovations, like public boarding schools, which have helped proved successful in Washington, D.C., and Baltimore.
Food. Two months ago, First Lady Michelle Obama launched the ambitious "Let's Move" campaign, aiming to eliminate food deserts, especially in urban communities, in the next seven years. Aldi is the only national grocery chain in the city of Detroit, and there are only two locations. Many residents depend on corner stores and gas stations that sell little, if any, fresh apples, oranges, lettuce and potatoes. The administration has committed $400 million to "Let's Move" some of that money could help jump-start the the opening of urban groceries and the development of urban farms, a promising grass-roots initiative in the city. Those small gestures would help the daily life of Detroiters significantly.
By targeting dollars in this way to cities across the country, the Obama administration might win over urban critics without being accused of a bailout. Some city advocates, of course, will want more. There's talk that Obama should develop a full-fledged "Detroit Project," enlisting the Administration's urban experts to use Motown as a laboratory for policies that could reinvent American cities. Detroit is a symbol of American failure, but also a platform of potential: The city's population has been cut by more than half from a peak of nearly 2 million in the 1950s, when it produced thousands of cars each year and built a thriving American middle class. Now, it is the poorest major city in America, with a poverty rate of 34% nearly triple the national rate.
Inaction on urban issues carries its own political risks. There's growing debate about whether Obama should develop a "black agenda," which was a key topic of a summit convened in March in Chicago by talk show host Tavis Smiley. Obama enjoys a 95% favorability rating among blacks recently polled in four key states, including Ohio, by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, a Washington think tank. But it's an open question whether that popularity will stay sky-high as cities across the country cut jobs and services and whether Democrats, who drew 23% of their votes from blacks in the 2008 elections, can count on an energized urban community for this fall's crucial Congressional races. The urban vote will be crucial in battleground states like Ohio (Cleveland) and Pennsylvania (Philadelphia, Pittsburgh). Still, says Marc Morial, CEO of the National Urban League and the former mayor of New Orleans, "this president represents the best hope for urban America."