Delicate questions for Speaker Busch
Holding of jobs with state, county causes concerns about conflict of interest

By Ryan Davis
Sun Staff

May 29, 2003
 

As Anne Arundel County Executive Janet S. Owens stood recently before a room crowded with more than 200 employees and politicians, preparing to deliver her annual budget address, she paused to welcome a dignitary in the back of the room:

Speaker of the House of Delegates Michael E. Busch.

But she also could have introduced him with another title, the one used by his co-workers in county government: Michael E. Busch, assistant to the director of recreation and parks.

In Annapolis, the center of the state and county governments, it's not always easy to tell which role Busch is filling.

As he ascended this year to lead the House, his dual roles as a county employee and state leader have become increasingly intertwined. Some ethics experts, and local Republicans, are troubled by Busch's double life, saying it holds the potential for conflicts of interest. And while the Democrat defends his ability to do both jobs independently, he acknowledges that a provision in Anne Arundel's ethics law - noted in a case involving another county official - could force him to give up one job or the other.

Among the instances where Busch's county and state responsibilities have overlapped:
 

In 2001, as a delegate representing Annapolis and southern Anne Arundel, he pushed a bill through the House that provided $250,000 in state money for a controversial county project to turn farmland into lighted baseball fields. The money went to his county department.

In 2000, when Busch considered leaving his county and legislative jobs to become director of the quasi-public Injured Workers Insurance Fund, Owens responded by increasing his pay grade - saying at the time she was delighted that the extra money would also keep him as a delegate. That move opened the door for higher county earnings, and in the past 2 1/2 years his salary has jumped 41 percent, from $60,189 to $84,862, outpacing other departmental employees at that pay grade.

Busch also backed other legislation to channel money to his county agency. Last year, he co-sponsored a bill seeking money for a recreation department project to build a pool and Special Olympics training center; the bill was defeated. In 2000, he co-sponsored a failed bill seeking state money to build an amphitheater at Quiet Waters Park. And early in his tenure he pushed legislation that allowed counties to receive more land preservation money; in Anne Arundel, such programs are managed by the recreation and parks department.
Busch, 56, says he can reconcile the demands of his state and county jobs. As a legislator, he says, he votes for what his constituents - not his county bosses - want. Although their wants are usually the same, he notes that he voted this year for a workers' compensation bill that county officials opposed.

The amiable former coach and college football player says he has supported recreation because such programs keep kids out of trouble. Busch says it's his job as a delegate to push for parks in his district, and he properly discloses his county employment, so it's not a secret.

"If people want to accuse me of being supportive of Anne Arundel County, go ahead," he says.

Owens, a fellow Democrat, says Busch is a natural leader in the recreation department. Former County Executive John G. Gary, a Republican, calls him an honest man. And, officials note, state law allows Busch to disclose his employment while still voting on related issues.

But ethics experts and some Republicans see problems with Busch bringing money to his county agency.

"That is sort of the classic conflict of interest, bringing home the bacon to your employer," says Bob Stern, who helped write California's ethics laws and is president of the Los Angeles-based Center for Governmental Studies.

Says Kathryn Denhardt, an associate professor at the University of Delaware: "There is one fundamental ethics requirement in government: It is unlawful to use public office for private gain."

Typically, that tenet is violated by legislators who work for companies, she says. Bringing money to county government is different, because the government employee doesn't stand to earn a bonus. But Busch's rising county pay troubles her.

At the very least, it creates the perception of a conflict, Denhardt says. "If there is a perception of conflict of interest, there is an ethical problem," she says.

Busch, who organizes county sports leagues and helps oversee open-space preservation and special events, says his situation is the inevitable consequence of the General Assembly's structure. "If you're going to continue to have a part-time legislature, you have to have an opportunity for full-time employment," he says.

Maryland, where the General Assembly meets for 90 days each year, is one of 41 states with a part-time legislature, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.

Busch isn't the only delegate who is also an Anne Arundel employee. Del. Robert A. Costa is a county firefighter. Del. Theodore J. Sophocleus works in the state's attorney's office. But Busch is the only one in the county administration.

Eighteen of Maryland's 141 delegates hold federal, state or local government jobs, according to the state Department of Legislative Services.

Maryland's constitution prevents high-ranking state and federal officials from holding elected state positions, says William G. Somerville, counsel to the Joint Legislative Committee on Legislative Ethics. State law also prevents incumbent legislators from accepting any government jobs, but it doesn't prevent county workers from becoming state legislators.

But Anne Arundel's ethics law could cause problems for Busch, a delegate since 1987. Under one provision, county employees cannot assist a company or agency in matters where the county might have a competing interest.

Based on that provision, the county Ethics Commission ruled in August that Michael Fox, a county employee who also serves as an Annapolis alderman, could not vote on or discuss issues such as annexation of county land.

Busch says if that ruling were applied to him, he would be barred from doing much of his work - even voting on the state budget. After all, the state and county often have competing interests for money.
 

No complaint ever filed

He says no one has ever filed a complaint about him with the county Ethics Commission, but he wouldn't be surprised if someone sought such a ruling now. After all, he has become a favorite GOP target since he blocked Republican Gov. Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.'s centerpiece legislation to allow slot machines at horse-racing tracks.

Others agree that a complaint is likely. "I have a feeling this will unfold," Owens says.

Busch believes that the county Ethics Commission overstepped its bounds last year - a common complaint from elected county officials in other ethics cases. He believes that state law would supersede any county ruling, and plans to meet with state officials on the issue.

But Suzanne Fox, executive director of the state Ethics Commission, says, "We are not an appeals court to the counties."

Busch says that if he had to give up a job, it would be his county post. He receives $71,806 a year from the county (forgoing part of the $84,862 salary to participate in legislative sessions). As speaker, he makes $47,500.

Busch was hired as a county recreation supervisor in 1979, and first ran for delegate unsuccessfully in 1982. Four years later, he ran again at the urging of Dennis M. Callahan, a former Annapolis mayor who is now Busch's boss at the county department. He won and began his climb in the legislature.

In 1995, then-County Executive Gary decided he didn't want any employees reporting to Busch because the delegate took a three-month leave every year for the General Assembly.

Gary says the time-use and conflict-of-interest issues Busch faced as chairman of the House Economic Matters Committee have only intensified now that he is speaker.

"There is a conflict," Gary says. "Busch is a person of character. What if it wasn't a person of character?"

Busch considered leaving his county post in 2000, to be director of the Injured Workers Insurance Fund, which sells workers' compensation insurance. It offered a salary of at least $145,000, but would have required him to quit his delegate's job, he says.

He asked Owens for a raise. He says he would have already become director of parks and recreation by that point if it hadn't been for his annual three-month absence.

"Anyone whose been at the county 24 years should either be moving on or be at the top of the [pay] scale," Busch says.

Owens boosted his pay grade, which resulted in a $3,010 pay increase, and raised the ceiling on his salary. While Busch's salary jumped 41 percent over the past 2 1/2 years, a sampling of five other assistant department directors shows salary increases ranging from 17 percent to 29 percent, according to the county. Within the recreation department, the two employees on the same pay grade as Busch saw their salaries increase 21 percent and 34 percent.
 

Reason for a raise

"I don't know if he got that raise because he was due it," says County Council Chairwoman Cathleen M. Vitale, a Republican. "I don't know if he got the raise because he's bringing home the bacon to his boss."

At the time of Busch's raise in 2000, Owens told The Sun that he played a "pivotal role" in helping the county achieve its goals in the legislature. She says now it is "very likely" Busch would have gotten the raise even if he weren't a delegate.

As a legislator, Busch has handled several measures that would channel money to his county agency - the most notable involving Broadneck Recreation Complex.

In 2001, he introduced a bond bill to fund improvements at the park, which is in his district. The county had recently bought land adjacent to the park. Some neighbors, including the woman who sold the property, wanted it to become an equestrian park; others wanted ball fields.

Busch's bill allowed the county to pay for lighted fields on part of the land.

"At first glance, I didn't think anything of it ... ," Vitale says. "I take a step back [now] and ask, 'Is this something I would have gotten involved in?'

"Me personally, I wouldn't have done it. People have a natural distrust of the government and the only way you correct that perception is to take yourself one step higher."

Busch says he came up with the idea for the Broadneck park bill partly because of his county job. That's no different, he says, than a doctor/legislator developing a health care idea because of medical experience.

He also introduced two other state bond bills during that legislative session - one for the Annapolis Maritime Museum and another for the Galesville Heritage Society Museum.

"There are times I vote for what the county wants," he says. "There are times I vote against what the county wants."
 
 

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