Parris Glendening has now met the Law of Unintended Consequences -- and he will have to live with the ramifications of what happened for a long time.
Who could have predicted the new governor's first crisis would revolve around something that took place years ago in Prince George's County and that has absolutely nothing to do with the governance of Maryland?
Yet the brouhaha over Mr. Glendening's role in pension payouts to aides who followed him from Upper Marlboro to Annapolis isn't a momentary news story. It leaves an indelible impression with a citizenry already cynical about government.
Take Mr. Glendening at his word -- that he had nothing to do with these pension developments and inadvertently made three of his aides eligible for these cushy supplemental benefits -- and he's still got a massive perception problem.
Take Mr. Glendening at his worst -- as a politician neck-deep in concocting this program -- and he's got a much larger problem.
Any way you look at it, the governor's image suffers.
Let's go back to the time when this supplemental program began -- 1990. Recession had hit Prince George's County. Massive layoffs were under consideration. Concern was voiced about non-merit-system workers who might be laid off. They had no job security and no termination package.
So the Glendening administration and County Council created a program to provide a "safety net" for these non-merit-system workers with 15 years of government service. It was modeled after a Montgomery County plan.
It appeared to be the right thing to do -- but it wasn't.
Two years later, an unelected pension board -- appointed by Mr. Glendening -- dramatically enriched the special benefits. The executive never signed off on these actions; neither did the county council. Giving appointees such unchecked power was fraught with danger.
Then the final, suspicious move: Mr. Glendening, only days before the November election last year, ordered top aides to "resign" -- out of courtesy for his successor, he says. But this automatically qualified those with 15 years of county service for the special pension benefits. (Mr. Glendening maintains he wasn't aware of the pension implications.)
For the aides who followed him to Annapolis, it was a charade. They voluntarily left their Prince George's posts -- yet because of Mr. Glendening's resignation order, they suddenly qualified for special termination benefits.
On top of that, a friendly ruling by a county lawyer made Mr. Glendening himself eligible for special benefits under the absurd logic that because of a 1992 term-limitations law, he was forced out of county government and had been "involuntarily separated" -- though he had planned for years to leave office and run for governor in 1994. Thus, he can collect $21,000 a year for the next three years. (He says he will decline it.)
Two retired or defeated Prince George's elected officials also qualified for these special benefits since they, too, could claim to have been "involuntarily separated."
It's a ridiculous situation.
No elected official -- none -- should receive such a sweet deal. Every candidate knows that he or she either will be defeated or will some day leave office. It's the chance you take. "Involuntary separation" has nothing to do with it. (Heck, the way they're defining terms in Prince George's, someone fired for stealing government funds would be eligible for benefits, since the culprit was "involuntarily separated" from his job.)
Even more ridiculous is the notion that a pension program had to be created to provide a "safety net" for non-merit-system workers. What was needed was a simple severance plan.
Any worker of long standing deserves a "safety net." Many companies give workers one week severance for each year worked. The idea is to make sure these employees have enough money when they are pushed out the door to serve as a bridge until they find new jobs.
But not a pension that pays someone in his or her 30s or 40s some $20,000 a year for a decade or more. That defies common sense. It reeks of a raid on the taxpayers.
The good news for Mr. Glendening is that all this took place before he became governor. His record in Annapolis is still clean.
The bad news is that this trail of suspicious past deeds has set off alarm bells. Is this part of a longstanding pattern or a regrettable mistake?
While Mr. Glendening personally isn't benefiting any more from this cushy pension program, his three aides are. They already have collected cash for unused sick-leave and vacation days and will receive years of county retirement checks once they quit their state jobs. The amounts are generous by government -- or even private-sector -- standards.
Efforts last week to limit the damage only partially worked. Whatever the original intent, doling out extra benefits to an exclusive group of government workers sends the wrong signal to state legislators and to Maryland citizens.
Barry Rascovar is editorial-page director of The Sun.