That should do it, thought I, when a dozen CEO bylines including Ecolab's Doug Baker, U.S. Bank's Richard Davis, Best Buy's Hubert Joly and Target's Brian Cornell appeared on these pages two weeks before the end of the 2016 Legislature's regular session. The CEOs' call for the Legislature to give a green light to Southwest light rail should turn the tide in the transit project's favor.
After all, this same gaggle of business bigwigs ran the very same play at about the very same time in the 2012 session, on behalf of a new stadium for the Minnesota Vikings. The one in which the Vikes will take the field for the first time on Aug. 28.
Big business had its way at the Legislature four years ago. In fact, through 158 years of statehood, big business has prevailed at the State Capitol more often than not. Tales of a handful of cigar-smoking moguls huddling at the Minneapolis Club to chart the state's course may be mostly apocryphal — though that is pretty much how James J. Hill and Charles A. Pillsbury decided the location of scores of small Minnesota and Dakota towns in the 1880s. And it's how Minneapolis got its Institute of Arts on Jan. 10, 1911. (No, I didn't cover that meeting.)
But I can attest that in the past 40 years, when big business has wanted lower property taxes, or open enrollment in public schools, or a break from high workers' compensation costs, or a stadium or three or four, the Legislature has complied — if not initially, then eventually. Usually, Republicans are especially eager to do businesses' bidding.
So it came as a surprise to me — and probably to the bylined CEOs — that their May 7 missive in the Star Tribune produced no discernible effect on Republican opposition to Southwest light rail. GOP resistance didn't budge then, and it hasn't budged since — despite the high price that's being exacted for saying no. The toll as of Thursday, when talks about a special session collapsed: a tax bill that would have delivered $550 million in relief through mid-2019; a $1 billion bonding bill plus some cash for still more building projects, and upward of $700 million for earmarked highway projects around the state. Those items would have been on a special-session agenda if House Republicans had bent even a little on rail transit.
Has big business lost its touch? I asked a guy whose job it is to apply business pressure at the Capitol, Minnesota Business Partnership executive director Charlie Weaver. Not surprisingly, he said no.
"This wasn't an indictment of the influence of the business community," Weaver said. "It's a reflection of the energy around the [transit] issue."
Make that the lack of energy. He explained that when business leaders called for a new home for the Vikings in 2012, legislators knew the CEOs were speaking for a horde of NFL fans in their districts. They had been hearing from pro-stadium constituents when they knocked on doors. Transit improvements don't have that kind of grass-roots support, Weaver said.