WHQR's Sunday Edition is a free weekly newsletter delivered every Sunday morning. You can sign up for Sunday Edition here and find past editions here.
We’re all familiar with the certainty of death and taxes, the phrase popularized (though not coined) by Benjamin Franklin. And, while the ultra-rich would very much like to escape both, most of us in the terrestrial tax brackets have come to accept them as parts of life.
Growing up, taxes — or government finance, writ large — was a defining feature of the political landscape. I remember hearing about ‘tax and spend’ Democrats and fiscally conservative Republicans. And, while the policy truths were more complicated, financial governance was often portrayed as the bedrock of governance, as the sausage-making that took place beneath the clamor of culture-war rhetoric from somewhere up in the clouds.
It feels like that has changed, a bit. Maybe it’s that being a nerdy actuary just doesn’t translate on social media, or because it turns out those culture war issues have real world collateral damage — that is, actual people who are hurt by policies — but it’s less common that we talk directly about finances.
I’ve seen the shift in local journalism, too. Reporters once hounded local government with records requests, looking to catch a commissioner putting an extra steak dinner on their procurement card, a city bureaucrat upgrading to a deluxe suite on a work trip, or a government contractor padding an invoice with a few duplicate items.
Most of these stories involved a few hundred, maybe a few thousand dollars out of nine-figure budgets. Reporters weren’t saving the taxpayers very much by busting these splurges — but that wasn’t the point. It was the principle. Government was spending the people’s money, and we had every right to check them on excesses, however small. It was an important part of the Fourth Estate’s role because, the thinking went, if we gave them an inch they’d take a mile. Small excesses would grow.
That’s not a completely paranoid theory. Just look at Bell, California: a small city about the size of Leland. In the absence of meaningful local media coverage, bureaucrats began paying themselves outrageous — in fact, criminal — salaries. Finally, a series of investigations kicked off by the Los Angeles Times led to elected officials and top city administrators going to prison.
A lot of local reporting has abandoned this kind of oversight role.
For one, investigative journalism has been decimated as corporate media giants starve local bureaus of resources in favor of superficial fluff, branded content, regional (i.e. non-local) pieces republished at multiple papers and TV news stations, and — one fears — a coming wave of AI-generated ‘stories.’
But for another, journalism has shifted from examining local government with a sharp pencil and a calculator to a broader examination of fairness and impact. Looking at policy, reporters ask who’s hurt and who’s helped, who benefits and who is left bereft.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do the latter — we should. It’s tremendously important. I’m only saying we should also do the former.
In our newsroom, we do try to do both. And when we fail and miss a story — and I can assure you, we do — I think it’s more because we lack the resources to cover everything, and less because we don’t consider both important.
For only one example, take my colleague Rachel Keith, who has the at-times-unenviable job of covering education. Rachel’s reported plenty of stories about educational policies that have hurt specific groups of students or left them behind as they’ve benefitted others. Some of these are the ‘culture war’ stories I alluded to above – the ones that have actual human ramifications that go way beyond politicians scoring points with their bases.
But she’s also covered financial management stories, at New Hanover County Schools and Cape Fear Community College. Eyeballs deep in the fiscal weeds, at times, these are also important stories.
Take the years during which the New Hanover County board of education propped up its budget with federal Covid-funding, only to face a disheartening round of layoffs (or ‘layoff-by-attrition,’ as a best case scenario) when the spigot went dry. Anyone who threw up their hands in alarmed confusion clearly hadn’t been reading Rachel’s stuff.
Or take her coverage of CFCC, a community college that has resolutely presented itself as being run like a business. Rachel has covered the way CFCC handles finances and, at times, it seems to deviate from best practices, to say the least. A few years ago, the CFCC Board of Trustees was told by college president Jim Morton that he couldn’t present the year-end financials because they “look wacky.” The board seemed to shrug this off, and then awarded Morton a 10% raise. Now, maybe the numbers were fine — but maybe not. If the trustees weren’t going to ask questions, journalists like Rachel had to (and she did, and found numbers that were, well, wacky).
I bring up all of this because it is, as you have likely seen in both local and national news, budget season. I’ll leave aside what’s going on in Washington for the moment because there are far more astute commentators weighing in on that. But I have spent a bit of time looking at the City of Wilmington and New Hanover County, and we’ll be looking at other local governments, as well.
For the city and county, especially, there’s a lot going on. This year’s revaluation is increasing property values by over 60% on average, which means a potential surge in tax revenue. Local governments can negate that by cutting the tax rate and keeping bills basically the same, or at least relatively close while still accounting for inflation. Or, they could expand services that they couldn’t previously afford. There will be, no doubt, some heated debate over how to balance that equation.
If there was ever a time for that pencil and calculator, it’s now.
To that end, on Friday I had New Hanover County Commissioner Dane Scalise in the studio to talk about his hopes for the upcoming budget cycle. As he laid out in an opinion piece in the Wilmington Business Journal, Scalise would like to use the spike in appraised property values to cut taxes significantly. But he’d like to go further, not just cutting some parts of the county’s budget – namely the $600,000 DEI department and roughly $1.6 million in annual grants to non-profits – but also inviting in a third-party to audit the county for possible cost-cutting measures. (You can listen to the whole interview, here.)
Scalise’s plan for an outside audit of sorts obviously rhymes with what Elon Musk and DOGE are trying to do with the federal government, but Scalise was quick to distance himself from some of those negative connotations. He said he would want a well-qualified, professional service that his fellow commissioners could all agree on. And, unlike Musk — who has demonized federal employees as corrupt, calling them “parasites,” and otherwise antagonizing and harassing them — Scalise effusively praised county staff.
As I noted in our interview, there are many Democrats and liberals who would very much like to cast some sunlight into the inner financial workings of the federal government. No less a liberal than Bernie Sanders has said, and I quote, “Elon Musk is right” — when it came to the Pentagon, which has failed audit after audit of an opaque budget that’s nearing $1 trillion. (And, perhaps, if the Department of Defense was the first thing Musk jammed into his woodchipper, instead of USAID, it might have set a different tone.)
In general, many from the center to the left that I’ve talked to support not just increased transparency but increased efficiency of the federal government. However, an erratic, chainsaw-wielding tech billionaire operating with little or no oversight and highly dubious guardrails against conflict of interest doesn’t seem to be a popular way to achieve those goals.
So, back here at the local level, it seems unlikely we’ll see recent college grads with juvenile social-media handles gleefully hacking into the county’s financial software.
I do think it would be good to have journalists going through some of those financials. To be clear, I’m not endorsing or denouncing Scalise’s views on the budget — or the views of his fellow commissioners, some of whom I suspect will differ significantly not just on particular line items but at a philosophical level. But journalists ought to be another part of the story, not just recording what officials say about the budget, but having their own look under the hood, and reporting what they find to the public.
Don’t worry, I’m not accusing the City of Wilmington or New Hanover County of corruption or fraud. We are, I know, a very long way from Bell, California.
I just want to do our part to keep it that way.
Letter to the Editor
We welcome letters to the editor’s desk on any topic. Our ideal length is around 400 words or less, but if they need to be a little longer, that’s fine. We reserve the right to edit or add context when necessary. We ask that submissions come with your name and where you live (no street address necessary, just your neighborhood, town, city, etc.). Criticisms are welcome, but we ask you to try to keep it civil.
Send your letter to BSchachtman@whqr.org — or by mail, if you're old school, to WHQR Public Media 254 N. Front Street, Suite 300, Wilmington, NC 28401.
This edition’s letter comes from Rev. Dante Murphy of Wilmington. Murphy is the former head of the Pender County NAACP who left the Democratic party to become a registered Republican in recent years. Murphy played a prominent role in pressuring the New Hanover County Board of Education to take responsibility for the sexual abuse and neglect of students in the district. He currently pastors in Pender County.
In 2018, I analyzed former President Trump’s approach to governance, branding it as a unique form of civil disobedience. Five years later, as the nation reflects on his tenure and continued influence, the question remains: is Trump’s method of governance an act of necessary disruption or a dangerous precedent for American democracy? The debate over his policies, particularly immigration, continues to shape political discourse. Below is an updated perspective on the topic.
Trump’s Legacy of Civil Disobedience
During his first presidency, Donald Trump defied conventional political norms, challenging Democrats and Republicans in ways that upended traditional governance. His ‘zero tolerance’ immigration policy, which led to the separation of thousands of children from their families, sparked national outrage. Today, as America assesses the long-term effects of his administration, we continue to witness the consequences of his polarizing approach. The humanitarian crisis at the border persists, and the scars left by his policies remain etched in the fabric of American politics.
Trump’s insistence on building a wall along the U.S.-Mexico border symbolized his larger governing philosophy rooted in defiance and an unwavering commitment to fulfilling campaign promises. His approach often disregarded institutional norms and legal constraints, leading to multiple impeachments and ongoing legal battles post-presidency. While some saw him as a necessary disruptor, others viewed him as threatening democratic principles. The question remains: is his brand of activism an act of patriotism or a dangerous precedent that emboldened authoritarian tendencies?
Historically, figures like Harriet Tubman, Abraham Lincoln, and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. broke rules to pursue justice. Conversely, authoritarian leaders such as Saddam Hussein and Adolf Hitler also wielded disruption to serve personal and ideological ambitions. The distinction lies in whether disruption fosters justice or erodes democracy. Trump’s legacy is still being written, but his tenure has undoubtedly reshaped American politics, creating a deep divide over whether his actions are acts of necessary rebellion or reckless governance.
As the nation approaches future elections, the challenge is determining how to respond to leaders who defy institutional norms. Do we continue rewarding disruption or reinforce the values that have long defined American democracy? The balance between activism and authoritarianism is delicate, and history will judge whether Trump’s legacy was one of reform or irreversible damage.
***
When I first read Murphy’s letter, I was struck by his use of the term ‘civil disobedience,’ and I’m sure not everyone would agree that’s the right lens.
But it does seem to me that much of the criticism of President Donald Trump’s first administration revealed how little lawful regulation there is for the office. While there have been, and continue to be, important constitutional challenges, so much of what rankles people about Trump is the violation of stately norms: the decorum, convention, and — many would argue — decency that we’d like to define the White House, but for which there are no rules on the books.
There are many equivocating narratives out there, on both the left and right: all Presidents lie, enrich themselves, and try to appropriate unconstitutional power to themselves through executive order; every administration has basically been in the pocket of the oligarchs or the stock market, and; the White House has always been disconnected from ordinary Americans.
But even in a flattened world view, scrubbed of all nuance, Trump has struck fans and detractors as a singularity. For liberals, that makes him a unique menace to the established order, and for conservatives that makes him irreplaceable (that’s a short-term boon for the GOP, but a long-term succession nightmare).
In any case, I’m curious what you will make of Murphy’s analysis. I also wonder what future administrations will make of Trump’s precedent. Will tomorrow’s Democratic candidates be reactionary, which is to say empathetic and mannered, conscientious consensus brokers who play by the rules, including the unwritten ones? Or might we one day see something else, not an anti-Trump but a mirror-Trump?
