COMMUNITY COUNCIL
OPINION: Albuquerque’s '9-11' crisis: When the 9th and 11th floors stop talking
Albuquerque has a problem that is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore: The two floors of City Hall where our municipal government policy is directed seem to have forgotten how to work together.
I am an attorney and have served Albuquerque in several positions, including city attorney, city planning director and chief administrative officer/city manager. I have seen firsthand that disagreements between a mayor and City Council are inevitable. But effective government requires something more important than agreement: communication, mutual respect and a willingness to compromise.
Those qualities appear to be increasingly scarce at City Hall.
Consider several recent examples.
Earlier this year, the City Council sued Mayor Tim Keller over staffing levels in Albuquerque Fire Rescue. The dispute was ultimately settled in February. A lawsuit between two parts of the same municipal government is hardly evidence of a healthy working relationship.
Then came Proposition P-26-2. The council proposed changing the City Charter to make the city attorney and city clerk independent municipal offices, with a shared appointment process involving both the mayor and council. I believe it would have created additional, yet unaccountable, branches of government. The council approved the proposal and its companion legislation to put the charter amendment before voters in November.
But Keller vetoed the companion legislation. On Monday, the council failed to override his veto. Consequently, P-26-2 will not appear on the November ballot, and the proposed charter changes will not become part of our municipal government.
That is good news in one respect. But the episode is another troubling symptom of the larger problem: The ninth floor, where councilors have offices, and the 11th floor, where the Mayor’s Office is, are not communicating effectively.
The same problem was evident in the recently adopted 2027 fiscal year budget. The council approved a $1.5 billion spending plan, making substantial changes to the mayor’s proposed budget. Among the disagreements was the fundamental question of revenue forecasts — the financial assumptions upon which any responsible budget must be based. The mayor ultimately allowed the budget to take effect without his signature while publicly expressing concern that the council had relied on an overly optimistic revenue forecast.
Think about that for a moment. Albuquerque has a $1.5 billion annual budget, yet the two branches of government could not reach agreement on the revenue numbers underlying it.
That is not simply a disagreement over policy. It is a failure to communicate.
And then there was the mayor’s Aug. 15 State of the City address. The themes were scarcity, resilience and abundance — important concepts for a city seeking to overcome its challenges. But there was one particularly conspicuous scarcity: any meaningful recognition of the City Council as a coequal branch of Albuquerque’s government.
Abundance cannot grow from one branch of government talking primarily to itself. A city cannot achieve abundance of housing, jobs, public safety, infrastructure or opportunity when its elected branches are operating in separate silos.
Albuquerque’s charter actually provides a mechanism for addressing this problem. Article XIX, adopted in 2009, established an Intragovernmental Conference Committee specifically to help resolve disputes between the mayor and City Council.
So here is the question both the ninth and 11th floors should answer:
Why isn’t that mechanism working?
The answer cannot simply be that the mayor and council disagree. Of course they disagree. That is democracy.
The problem is what happens next.
The legislative and executive branches are supposed to debate, negotiate and compromise. They are not supposed to sue each other over ordinary governmental responsibilities, fight publicly over basic financial assumptions, or attempt to restructure the city’s constitutional architecture because they cannot agree on how government should operate.
There is an almost irresistible headline here: Albuquerque has created its own 9-11 crisis.
That comparison is, of course, about geography, not tragedy. Nothing about our municipal disagreements remotely compares with the horror of Sept. 11, 2001. But the ninth floor and the 11th floor increasingly appear to be operating as though they are separate governments.
They are not.
They are two branches of one government, responsible to the same taxpayers and citizens.
I am not suggesting that either branch should surrender its constitutional responsibilities. Nor am I suggesting that every disagreement should be papered over. Healthy friction between legislative and executive authority is essential.
But healthy friction produces better decisions. Dysfunction produces lawsuits, vetoes, stalemates and public bickering.
The mayor and council don’t have to agree. They don’t even have to like each other. But they do have to talk to each other.
They should talk before they litigate. Negotiate before they restructure government. And use the dispute-resolution mechanisms already provided by the charter before declaring institutional war.
Albuquerque faces enormous challenges. Public safety, homelessness, housing, infrastructure, economic development and fiscal sustainability require the attention and cooperation of all our elected leaders.
We cannot build a more abundant Albuquerque if the ninth floor and 11th floor are competing rather than collaborating.
After a career in Albuquerque city government, I have learned that good government is not about one branch winning an argument. It is about whether the government can continue to function effectively after the argument is over.
The lesson for both floors of City Hall is simple: Talk to each other. Work together. Remember whom you serve.
Albuquerque has only one government.
It is time its two principal branches started acting like it.
Attorney David Campbell is a retired U.S. diplomat and former Albuquerque chief administrative officer, city attorney and planning director, serving in four mayoral administrations. He is also a member of the Journal's Community Council.