Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

Allegheny County councilors wanted a regular salary. No one considered the pension problem

Katie Blackley
/
90.5 WESA

This is WESA Politics, a weekly newsletter by Chris Potter providing analysis about Pittsburgh and state politics. If you want it earlier — we'll deliver it to your inbox on Thursday afternoon — sign up here.

In politics, no victory is ever really final, and every celebration is premature. Our national political turmoil arguably began, for example, when Barack Obama trolled Donald Trump at a 2011 gala, inspiring Trump to run for the White House himself in 2016. Trump won but spent much of his time in office trolling Democrats (among many, many others), which helped them retake Congress in 2018 and the White House in 2020.

We’ll see where that leads next year. But we already have a cautionary tale this year about how election wins can mask, or even create, future political challenges. Granted, the story has to do with the arcana of government: pensions, county council, and a vote you may not have even noticed casting in November. But this is a story about unintended consequences: Who knows what will happen if you don’t read to the end?

You may recall, or not, a ballot question in November about how county council members should be compensated. Council members receive $10,939 a year, payment the county’s Home Rule Charter describes not as a salary but a stipend for attending twice-monthly meetings.

County members led by Bob Macey wanted to change that with the help of voters, who must approve alterations to the charter. They had a number of reasons for doing so: Council does much of its work outside its twice-monthly meetings, they argued, and the stipend was structured in a way that left them unpaid for the last two months of the year.

“The pay structure created problems with members who rely on that money to pay their bills,” Macey told me. “All I was trying to do is have us be paid on a regular basis,” with a check coming every two weeks all year long.

Council also wanted a bit of respect: When Macey proposed that council put the question to voters in June, he told his colleagues, “I do have a concern about … we as a body getting paid in the same manner as all the other employees in Allegheny County.”

But as it turns out, there might be a downside in getting paid in the same manner as other employees: Those other employees are required to pay into the county’s pension fund. And if that rule is applied to council, it could mean waiting not just a couple months but years to receive a chunk of their annual earnings.

WESA Politics Newsletter

Stay on top of Pittsburgh and Pennsylvania political news from WESA's reporters — delivered fresh to your inbox every Thursday afternoon.

No one appears to have been aware of the concern until after voters narrowly approved the ballot question in November. But last week, council chief of staff Ken Varhola sent members an email advising them that because of the change, the solicitor for the county Retirement Board “deems [that] you are now subject to retirement deductions even though you are unable to receive a pension.”

The matter is complicated by a couple of conflicting legal provisions. State law requires people paid by the county to contribute to its pension fund … but the county’s own code says that County Council members “shall not be entitled to receive any indirect compensation for their services” — including pension and health benefits.

“We’re trying to figure this out right now,” said County Controller Corey O’Connor, who sits on the retirement board. “I don’t think [being in the pension fund] was the intent of anyone, and I don’t know that this is what voters thought they were voting for.”

County employees contributed 10.5% of their earnings in 2023 to the pension fund — which would cost council members a little less than $1,150 a year. All this because they wanted to be paid more smoothly and promptly.

Even in a worst-case scenario, council wouldn’t lose that money outright. Upon leaving office, members could — like any departing county employee — cash out the contributions they’d made or roll them over into a personal retirement fund. But any delay in getting paid would arguably defeat the whole purpose council had for seeking the change in the first place.

Macey said he hoped that wouldn’t happen.

“I think good minds and good people will see the convoluted situation that is being brought about and get it resolved,” he said.

O’Connor, for one, seemed dubious that council would be enrolled in the pension fund at all.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen,” he said.

There are, in fact, legal arguments on both sides. There’s also an argument that council should have been paying into the pension fund all along … but asking voters to recast its reimbursement as a “salary” brought the issue to the fore.

Still, all of this could have been discussed months ago. Council voted in June to put the question before voters without discussing the matter in committee — where policy details are often hashed out. So there was no discussion of implementation or any potential legal wrinkles.

To be sure, there was some debate about and criticism of the bill’s overall concept: Councilor Bethany Hallam said it would encourage laziness among council members. But Councli didn’t wrestle with implementation at the table that night or since. (Hallam says today that the proposal “was so bad on its face that I never even thought about pensions.”)

Only one councilor publicly expressed uncertainty about what council was proposing to do: Jack Betkowski told his fellow council members in June there were “many unknowns about this, which is why I think a robust discussion in committee would be beneficial.”

And it’s hard to ignore the irony here: Council members argued that their pay should be structured to reflect the fact that they work outside regular meetings. Now they could end up paying a price because those meetings were the only time they publicly discussed the measure at all.

Or maybe it will all work itself out. But I’d think twice before calling that a victory.

Nearly three decades after leaving home for college, Chris Potter now lives four miles from the house he grew up in -- a testament either to the charm of the South Hills or to a simple lack of ambition. In the intervening years, Potter held a variety of jobs, including asbestos abatement engineer and ice-cream truck driver. He has also worked for a number of local media outlets, only some of which then went out of business. After serving as the editor of Pittsburgh City Paper for a decade, he covered politics and government at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. He has won some awards during the course of his quarter-century journalistic career, but then even a blind squirrel sometimes digs up an acorn.