Human events move briskly. Usain Bolt in Olympic 100-meter races, for example.
On the other hand, Bourbon must be aged two years in oak barrels before it’s allowed even to be called Bourbon.
But almost nothing in non-emergency government functions better at flank speed, except standing in line to get your driver’s license. Haste produces error.
For that reason alone — even dismissing motives, risks, unexamined and unproven benefits — the proposed merger of three of Lake County’s four “Round” communities was a terrible idea that now has been quashed by what its chief advocate called a “technicality.”
The binding measure to merge Round Lake, Round Lake Beach and Round Lake Park has been tossed off the Nov. 8 ballot, but the move was no technicality unless you consider the law a technicality. In measures proposing municipal restructuring, the law requires a 120-day notice.
“One Round Lake” did not even come close.
After unrolling the idea publicly four weeks ago, former Round Lake Mayor Bill Gentes and One Round Lakers for which he spoke raced to demand a binding vote.
Never had a people’s movement been more invisible. This is a save-us-from-high-taxes debate with no debate and no facts, either. No homepage on the Internet. No FAQs with data, explanations, expert support.
Just a thin Facebook page with many questions, but no answers. And then goodbye.
In a spicy going-away note, Gentes chastised the three sitting mayors for guarding their “duplicative political kingdoms,” wasting taxes, spurning democracy and denying citizens the boundless benefits of merging.
The note included no evidence of any savings. But we will be back, Gentes hinted.
One Round Lake claimed it was a “grass roots effort” with more than 500 resident signatories from the villages of Round Lake (18,289 residents as of 2010), Round Lake Beach (28,093) and Round Lake Park (7,379).
But One Round Lake was civic hostage-taking in which one village might vote resoundingly no, though still be held captive by the other two.
If that’s democracy, it emits a bad odor of mendacity.
What One Round Lake lacked was unambiguous, shared proof the idea would improve life. Stealthy plans send a signal.
The idea seemed secretive enough that each village administration was caught off guard, though you can’t debate secrets if you don’t know the secret. Or the rules. Or the reasons. Or the proof.
But Gentes has history. The last time he presented himself to voters, they rejected him twice in the same electoral cycle.
He lost the State Senate District 26 seat to Republican Bill Duffy in 2008 by a 68,000 to 41,000 count and then lost his mayoral reelection try for a third term in Round Lake, 1,137 to 603.
Round Lake governance during Gentes’ terms had a reputation for snarly smack-talking contention, but Round Lake politics have always been that way, though fewer than 1,800 residents bother to vote for mayor.
Observers noted the not-merely-coincidence of Gentes losing while simultaneously claiming in a reported newspaper editorial board interview that he had taken a leave of absence from his real estate executive job. But then Gentes admitted when confronted that the Realtor Association of NorthWest Chicagoland had fired him as operations manager. The association then called him untruthful in a press release and donated money to his Senate foe.
Gentes did not leave the Round Lake throne room as a happy camper.
The merger vote theoretically would have been doable because the only rational theory of merger is cost efficiency. But One Round Lake did not prove that case or even seem to try.
In the case of the only identified merger detail, the new government would have used an aldermanic legislative system based on geographic, proportional population districts.
That means that Round Lake Beach’s aldermen might have de facto veto power over the other two villages. Round Lake and Round Lake Park together have less population than Round Lake Beach.
Proving that civic mergers save money has become illusory nationwide.
“There are far less savings than people think,” said Jered Carr, a noted researcher on civic mergers and professor of public administration at the University of Illinois Chicago.
“Given all the studies, I’m very skeptical of the idea that bigger works better,” he told the Las Vegas Sun, adding that “I’m always aware that there is just no evidence for most of what elected officials say” about consolidation.
So there will be no king of the new One Round Lake, at least for a while. But be patient. There’s always another election.
David Rutter was an editor for 40 years at six newspapers.
