From Manny saves America

Confluence

Confluence. [kän-flü-ən(t)s]. n. A coming or flowing together, meeting, or gathering at one point.

Water is a big deal in Pittsburgh. Pennsylvania is a swing state. Am I being to subtle?

More evidence that, in a politically divided nation, water unites

Last month I argued that water ought to be the centerpiece of the Biden Administration’s environmental policy. President-elect Biden has announced climate change as the main pillar of its policy agenda, but the nation is deeply divided on climate, and so lasting progress will be difficult or impossible on greenhouse gasses. Meanwhile, protecting water is one of very few significant areas of public policy where the country is united, not polarized. That gives the president-elect and congressional leaders from both parties an opportunity to build a coalition for significant legislation on water. The idea seems to have struck a chord with many folks*, and it's picked up some momentum. More and more voices joining the call to rally to water policy when the new Administration and 117th Congress take office.

More data!

Encouraged by the response to my last post, I went casting about for more recent data on broad public support for water policy (my Texas A&M data were gathered in 2015). Happily, the 2020 Value of Water survey (VOW) by the U.S. Water Alliance asked about both climate and water. The national poll let respondents express their attitudes on a four point scale from “extremely important/concerned” to “not too important/concerned.”

The results are remarkably consistent with my earlier findings:

N=454. Thin bars represent 95% confidence intervals.

Once again, there’s a familiar stark gap between Democrats and Republicans on climate, but virtually no difference on questions about drinking water and water pollution.** And again, respondents who identify as strong Republicans express very little concern for climate change, but very strong concern for both drinking water and water pollution.

City water, country water

More than twenty years of experience and gigabytes of data have also convinced me that water also can unite urban and rural interests for leaders who want to build political bridges. And what do you know? The VOW survey also gathered data on where respondents live:

N=499. Thin bars represent 95% confidence intervals.

Once again, we see a significant divide between urban and rural folks on climate, but virtual unanimity on water.*** Strident (and likely futile) efforts by the Biden Administration to push climate initiatives in Congress would only deepen the divide between rural and urban America. But initiatives to deliver safer drinking water and fight water pollution could bring together urban and rural interests.

Art of the possible

Meaningful, enduring public policies require building coalitions across diverse segments of the American public. If the incoming White House and congressional leaders are serious about solving problems, they’ll do well to work on water. People across the political spectrum want safe, great-tasting tap water, and fishable/swimmable rivers, lakes, and oceans. The impact of good water policy is immediate and tangible. Landmark legislative wins are on the table for politicians with the vision and courage to pursue them.

But more than that, progress on water would help heal the nation’s political wounds, and demonstrate to a wary public that the institutions of the Republic can still fulfill the promise of a better life.

 

*I had a nice conversation on KJZZ in Phoenix on this topic.

**These relative partisan gaps remain in regression models that control for age, gender, race, and ethnicity. 

***These relative urban/rural differences remain after controlling for party identification age, gender, race, and ethnicity.

And remember: an awful lot of good water policy is also good climate policy. If you care about the planet more than you care about branding, talk less about CO2 and more about H2O.

Art of the Possible

Why water should be the Biden Administration’s top environmental priority

Evidently the president-elect is confident managing stormwater.

The Biden administration’s environmental policy priorities are likely to be quite different from the Trump administration’s, and the impending change at the White House has visions of sweeping new federal greenhouse gas policies dancing in environmentalists’ heads. But sober political observers know that the prospects of significant climate policy—let alone a Green New Deal—are virtually zero so long as Republicans maintain a majority in the Senate.* A trillion-dollar infrastructure and/or bailout package for local water infrastructure are also probably non-starters. Those are going to be bitter pills for many of the President-Elect’s supporters to swallow. It’s also why the Biden administration should make water, not climate, the centerpiece of its environmental agenda when it takes office in January.

Everybody cares about water

Once upon a time, environmental protection wasn’t an especially partisan issue. Indeed, most major milestones in U.S. environmental policy were signed into law by Republican Presidents.** But over the past 40 years environmental policy has become increasingly partisan at the national level, with Democrats widely perceived as more protective and Republicans less protective of environmental quality. Perhaps the most divisive environmental issue of all is climate change. When global warming entered the national political consciousness in the early 1990s there wasn’t much difference between partisans on the issue. A generation’s worth of general party polarization has changed all that, however, and today Democrats and Republicans are deeply divided even over the basic facts about climate policy. Today climate policy is nearly as divisive as abortion or guns in our national politics. Environmental activists clammor loudest for a big federal greenhouse gas program, but it is difficult to imagine any major legislation branded as a “climate” bill clearing the Senate’s 60 vote hurdle with so many red states lined up against it. 

Water is different. It seems that radical polarization hasn’t yet contaminated our most essential resource. Unlike climate threats, where risks seem distant and causal linkages uncertain, risks to water quality are immediate, the causes known, and the effects tangible. It’s no coincidence that the partisan divide on water is much narrower than it is on climate. A few years ago, I helped the Texas A&M Institute for Science, Technology, and Public Policy run a national public opinion survey on environmental issues. We asked respondents to rate their level of concern about issues on a 0-10 point scale, with 10 meaning “extremely concerned” and zero meaning “not at all concerned.” As you’d expect, we found consistent partisan gaps across issues. But one really striking finding stood out to me and has stuck with me ever since. Check this out:

N=1,439. Thin bars represent 95% confidence intervals.

The public opinion gap between Democratic and Republican concern is greatest for climate change and smallest for water quality.  What’s more, the average Republican falls on the “not concerned” end of the spectrum on climate change (4.3), but well into the “concerned” range on water (6.4). On reflection, that result shouldn’t be surprising: Republicans like to drink water and flush their toilets just as much as Democrats do, and I’d guess that a good number of America’s hunters and sportfishermen tend to vote with the GOP.

What’s more, the nation’s most severe drinking water, water pollution, and infrastructure affordability problems are in rural America. Big cities like Flint, Detroit and Newark tend to get the most attention from reporters and politicians, but the water challenges of rural communities are in many cases much more daunting.

Manny's electoral map.

Joe, Kamala, and the 117th

These political conditions are ripe for a bipartisan, urban-rural coalition to improve the nation’s drinking water and water quality. Rather than beating their heads against the stone wall of a GOP Senate in vain pursuit of climate policy, the Biden Administration ought to focus its legislative efforts on systemic reforms to improve the water sector. Vice President-elect Harris has been working on water issues actively since joining the Senate, so she’ll come into office with some expertise on the issue and is poised to be an effective champion. Major legislative victories in the 117th Congress won’t come easy for anyone, but water policy offers perhaps the best chance to get something big done on the environment.

And guess what? It turns out that lots of the things we do to protect water quality (e.g., aquifer protection, watershed management, wetland restoration, sustainable agriculture, etc.) also reduce greenhouse gas emissions and mitigate climate change impacts. So a big victory on water policy would be a big victory for climate policy, too.***

 



*It’s technically possible for Democrats to pull even in the Senate with a sweep of Georgia’s special Senate elections. New Vice President Harris would then break the leadership tie and give Democrats control of the 117th Senate. My political science spidey sense tells me this is an unlikely scenario.

**Lincoln created the first national park when he signed the Yosemite Grant Act in 1864. Theodore Roosevelt established the U.S. Forest Service, signed five more national parks into law and established 19 national monuments. Nixon established the Environmental Protection Agency and signed the Clean Air Act. Ford signed the Safe Drinking Water Act and RCRA, and Bush41 championed the 1990 Clean Air Act Amendments that created the first cap-and-trade system for managing air pollution.

These partisan gaps remain in regression models that control for age, gender, race, ethnicity, and income.

***Just don’t say that part out loud in red states.

Two Cheers… or maybe just one

for a federal low-income water bill assistance program

All watery eyes are fixed on Washington

The ink is barely dry on the $2 trillion coronavirus response law, but there are rumblings that a another relief bill will be at the top of the agenda when Congress reconvenes later this month.  The latest noises out of Speaker Pelosi’s office indicate that the next bill will focus on immediate relief for families, small businesses, health systems, and local governments.

When it comes to household water affordability relief, the perennial favorite proposal is a federal means-tested assistance program for low-income families modeled after the Low Income Home Energy Assistance Program (LIHEAP). A $1.5 billion LIHEAP-style relief program for water was part of the House proposal for the last COVID-19 relief bill, but it was cut from the final bill and never enacted. The proposal is likely to be resurrected in the next bill.

Over the past week I’ve had several conversations with utility executives, policy experts, and government leaders about how Congress might best provide water relief in this ongoing and rapidly-moving pandemic. This post summarizes thoughts that have emerged from those conversations, and explain why I’m sympathetic but lukewarm on the idea of a federal LIHEAP-style program for water in this moment of crisis.

Redistributive programs

Redistributive programs come in two basic flavors: means-tested and entitlements.* Means-tested programs provide benefits to individuals and households who demonstrate need and whose resources (income, assets) fall below specific thresholds. People must apply for these benefits, and government bureaucrats evaluate applications to see that they meet program rules. Procedures for auditing and appeals accompany these processes. Those who receive benefits must reapply periodically in order to maintain eligibility. Benefits decline or disappear as incomes grow. Familiar means-tested assistance programs include TANF (“welfare”), SNAP (formerly Food Stamps), Section 8 housing, and LIHEAP.

Entitlement programs provide public benefits to qualifying individuals and households regardless of their need or resources—rich, middle-class, and poor households all may receive assistance. People are not required to demonstrate need or report income and assets to government agencies to get the benefits. K-12 education is a great example at the state/local level. School districts don’t require families to demonstrate financial need before enrolling their children, and millions of wealthy and middle-class kids attend school at the public expense across the country. Medicare and Social Security pensions are the two biggest federal examples: rich or poor, the government provides these programs whether or not their recipients “need” them.

It should come as little surprise that means-tested programs often carry a social stigma and entitlement programs are perennially popular.

LIHEAP for water?

Many local utilities provide some kind of means-tested assistance. With 50,000 community water systems operating across the country, these programs vary widely in design and administration.** No statewide water assistance programs exist, although California is building one. There is no federal low-income household assistance program for water or sewer bills. The closest analog is LIHEAP.

A LIHEAP-style water program is a fine idea in theory: it targets the needy population and helps pay for an essential but often expensive service. The program is familiar to the community advocacy crowd, and a network of state and local social service organizations already exists to help administer the program. But there are at least four big reasons to worry about federal LIHEAP-for-water as a cornerstone of affordability policy.

First, the extreme fragmentation of the water sector makes managing water bill assistance administratively costly in ways that it isn’t for energy. LIHEAP coordinates with the 3,200 electrical utilities and 1,400 gas utilities across the United States. There are 50,000 community water systems, and roughly 40,000 of those are very small, serving fewer than 3,300 people and employing just a handful of staff. Affordability is often most dire in these very small utilities in rural communities. Billing systems in these lightly-staffed utilities are often primitive and poorly-suited to coordinate with social service agencies. Making a LIHEAP-type program work for water will take months and significant investments in administrative systems and organizational capacity on the utility-side.

​Second, like all means-tested programs, LIHEAP puts an administrative burden on the very people that it seeks to help. Learning about the program, applying, demonstrating eligibility, ensuring receipt, appealing decisions, and reapplying are time-consuming and sometimes humiliating processes. These costs may be especially significant for people with low literacy or limited English proficiency. Potentially eligible people may forego benefits if the application process is too burdensome, if they perceive a social stigma associated with public assistance, or if they do not trust government.

Do we want to force low-income people to ask for help and prove that they "need" it?

​Third, forty years of experience with LIHEAP demonstrates the limits of the program. Historically, LIHEAP has reached an average of just 16% of eligible households. That’s not 16% of all households, that’s 16% of the population that qualifies for the program. The all-time high-water mark for LIHEAP outreach came during the 2009-2010 recession response, when the program helped 22% of eligible households. In other words, at its very best, LIHEAP failed to reach 78% of the people who needed it.

​Quoth the Speaker: "The coronavirus is moving swiftly, and our communities cannot afford for us to wait."

Fierce urgency

Finally, it is unclear that a LIHEAP-style program would address the immediate need to stop water shutoffs and reconnect every household during a public health crisis. Even assuming the most optimistic administrative scenario, LIHEAP-style assistance will take several weeks or months to work its way from the U.S. Treasury to state governments to social service organizations and finally into water billing systems. After all that, the program’s impact on shutoffs and reconnections will still depend on local practices.

I don’t hate the idea of federal low-income assistance for water. A LIHEAP-style program would surely help many people and could be an important part of a systemic strategy to improve the American water sector. But such a program would do little to alleviate the immediate COVID-19 crisis and could blunt political momentum for more comprehensive and meaningful reform.

​Last week I blogged about how the federal government could move swiftly to help keep water and sewer services flowing everywhere during the COVID-19 crisis. My idea is a one-time conditional, formulaic grant program to support water utilities that agree to end residential shutoffs, restore service universally, forgive outstanding penalties, and structure prices to meet affordability standards. It’s an unorthodox and admittedly blunt instrument, designed to tackle a short-term crisis as quickly as possible, with the lowest management costs and least administrative burden on families. Sustainable solutions for the water sector will require more fundamental reforms to the way that we govern, finance, and manage these critical systems after the pandemic has passed.



*Tax expenditures are also redistributive, but I’m trying to keep this post short so I’m leaving them aside.

**To my knowledge, there has never been a systematic study of water assistance program effectiveness over a larger number of utilities.