Each semester, when I speak to Cato's new employees and interns, I give them a quick discussion of some of the reasons that government tends to grow, such as the problem of concentrated benefits and diffuse costs and what James Payne called "the culture of spending." In his book by that title, Payne noted:
The congressman lives in a special world, a curiously isolated world that is dominated by the advocates of government action. He is subjected to a broad chorus of persuasion that incessantly urges the virtues of spending programs. Year after year he hears how necessary government programs are.
Day after day, year after year, people come to the congressman's office with stories about why some particular government program is needed -- to help their grandfather, their brother-in-law, their community -- and rarely if ever does a constituent fly to Washington to urge his congressman to vote against any particular one of the myriad programs that add up to his entire income tax bill.
The Washington Post has a great illustration of this problem in the Sunday paper. The little town of Owego, New York, was excited to hear that Lockheed Martin would build the new presidential helicopter -- it's called Marine One, though fortunately for Lockheed the government wanted 23 of them -- at a plant in Owego. But as the price tag ballooned from $6.8 billion to $13 billion, even politicians began to see it as an unnecessary expense. The military canceled the program on June 1. Hundreds of jobs will be lost in Owego. And as the Post writes:
An 11-year-old Owego girl, whose parents are longtime Lockheed employees, recently hand-wrote a letter to Obama. It was published in the local newspaper and quickly became a voice for her shaken community.
"Lockheed is the main job source in Owego," Hailey Bell, now 12, wrote. "If you shut down the program, my mom may lose her job and a lot of other people too. . . . Owego will be a ghost town. I've lived here my whole life and I love it here! Please really, really think it over."
I'm sure she loves her parents and her town. And there's no reason to expect Hailey to understand what $13 billion means to taxpaying Americans all over the country. But this is just the kind of story that members of Congress hear all the time: save my parents' jobs, save my community, save our farms. And it all adds up to a $4 trillion federal budget with a $1.8 trillion deficit. (And by the way, if you Google "fiscal 2009 budget," you will quickly find the Obama administration's budget page, which somewhat oddly does not show the actual budget totals but does invite you to "Use the map below to learn more about how the President’s 2010 Budget is restoring long-term opportunity and prosperity in your state.")
For a more, shall we say, adult view of what it means to direct federal dollars to particular areas, we might turn to an advertisement in the Durango, Colorado, Herald in 1987, which touted the Animas-La Plata dam and irrigation project and made explicit the usual hidden calculations of those trying to get their hands on federal dollars:
Why we should support the Animas-La Plata Project: Because someone else is paying the tab! We get the water. We get the reservoir. They get the bill.
That's the way they tell it back home, usually without putting it in writing. In public and in Washington, they say, "Without this dam, our little town will waste away. Only you can save us, Mr. Congressman." And it's bankrupting us.