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Risky Business in Florida
Source Michael Hoover
Date 05/04/12/16:03

Risky business
The state uses millions in tax dollars to help certain companies create
jobs. But does that strategy pay off for taxpayers?
By SYDNEY P. FREEDBERG and CONNIE HUMBURG, Times Staff Writer
Published April 10, 2005

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


To government officials, the giant factory south of Orlando had long
been more than a microchip plant.

It was the crown jewel of Florida's high-tech future, an economic
engine that would generate good jobs and help transform the home of
Mickey Mouse into "Silicon Valley East."

So when AT&T threatened to move the plant to Spain in 1995, state and
local government swung into action.

They trained workers, bought equipment, slashed the company's taxes and
even wrote new laws - all in an effort to get the plant to stay and
create new jobs.

Between 1995 and 2003, they gave the plant more than $49-million in tax
breaks and benefits, promised still more and credited AT&T and its
successors with creating 864 jobs and investing $1.2-billion in
construction and new machinery.

Today, however, some of the plant's equipment has been shipped
overseas. Many of the jobs are gone. Employment, which climbed from
about 890 in 1995 to 1,869 in March 2000, is down to about 600. Unless a
buyer materializes, the plant will close by the end of the year.

The nearly empty factory could be a symbol for the flaws that beset
what government and business leaders call "economic development."

Since the mid 1990s, state and local governments in Florida have
showered hundreds of millions of dollars in tax breaks, cash and other
incentives on companies like AT&T that promise to invest and create jobs
here.

In 2004-05 alone, an examination by the St. Petersburg Times shows,
Florida's economic development efforts could cost state government more
than $900-million.

In a state with a $61-billion proposed budget, $900-million could pay
for nearly 11,000 new teachers, prekindergarten classes for 150,000
4-year-olds and all of next year's tuition increase for more than
250,000 university students.

Supporters say they need incentives to overcome bids from other states
and countries that spend even more than Florida to meet companies'
demands.

Incentives generate tens of thousands of high-wage jobs, they say,
billions in state investment, a business-friendly image and a higher
living standard for Floridians.

But such boasts by government officials from Gov. Jeb Bush on down
gloss over some fundamental problems:

* Much of the largesse appears to go to a fraction of Florida's
1.5-million businesses, and some of the recipients are large, prosperous
companies that wield the most clout and are least likely to need help.

Wal-Mart, for example, stands to gain $51.4-million in local and state
incentives for seven Florida projects, a study by a Washington labor
group found last year. The incentives range from free land and
discounted utility hookups to $1.5-million to remove a bridge and
$200,000 worth of dirt.

* Thousands of jobs created with the help of incentives, like the ones
at the Orlando chip plant, materialize briefly, then disappear. Some are
wiped out by cost-cutting moves, bankruptcies or mergers. Other jobs go
overseas.

Example: JPMorgan Chase. Over a period of 16 years, state and local
governments paid or promised the financial services giant that is today
known as JPMorgan Chase more than $21-million in benefits, plus a tax
break of up to $74.5-million over 20 years, to create more than 2,800
jobs in Tampa. In January, the company announced it would lay off 1,900
employees.

* A key goal of incentives is to raise wages statewide. Yet a decade
after the Legislature began ramping up its corporate benefits, Florida's
2003 average wage - $34,520 - still trails the national average and may
have lost ground. By one measure, Florida's average wage has slipped
from 24th place among states to 26th.

* Florida's incentive laws are riddled with vague language and
loopholes that allow businesses to collect for low-paying jobs, too. All
a company has to do is hire a few highly paid executives, skewing the
average wage upward.

Take AT&T. In 1995, economic development officials told Orange County
commissioners that the plant would create 600 new high-wage jobs that
would have an average salary of $34,200, according to the Orlando
Sentinel . That was well above the county's average wage.

What they did not say: More than half the workers started at less than
the county average, and a smaller number of higher-paid administrative
and engineering jobs skewed the average.

* From a warehouse in Miami to a call center in Palatka, some companies
that have received incentives pay so little that workers or their
dependents qualified for state-financed health care or food stamps.

Put simply, taxpayers sometimes pay hidden costs: They subsidize the
company to create jobs, and they subsidize workers who need public
assistance to make ends meet.

* State and local officials are sometimes so eager to award incentives
that the application process is perfunctory, decisions are rushed and
oversight is questionable.

Some local governments write checks without independently verifying
that companies have met employment goals. Essentially operating under an
honor system, auditors rely on information submitted by businesses. The
state's monitoring process has come under criticism as well.

In 2003, the city of Clearwater and Pinellas County were baffled when
the state reminded them to pay their share of incentives for CGI Group,
a computer technology firm. The company was closing its operation in
Clearwater.

"We question whether this company is creating jobs in Pinellas County,"
Danielle Weitlauf, finance officer with the county's economic
development agency, told the state in an e-mail. "The last the city
checked, the company's employment numbers were around 100 and their
building is for sale."

CGI, which took over IMRglobal in 2001, didn't get any more cash, but
it left town with $354,318 in previously awarded incentives.

* Florida's incentives include dozens of tax breaks that are embedded
in the tax code rather than paid outright. Because businesses claim them
as credits, deductions or exemptions on their tax returns, which are
confidential, these tax breaks often fall outside the scrutiny of the
public and even state legislators.

So, the state Revenue Department can confirm that some banks catering
to foreigners will be excused from an estimated $9.8-million in
corporate income taxes in 2004-05. The agency can say that some
entertainment firms will be exempted from more than $60-million in sales
taxes and that 346 companies reduced their insurance premium taxes by
$176-million.

But by law the tax agency is not allowed to identify them (and in some
cases may not know who the recipients are or how much money they get
unless there is an audit).

* Although the Legislature keeps adding incentives and loosening rules
for those already on the books, it rarely checks to see if they are
paying off.

A recent report for the state's main economic development group
concluded that Florida's most widely used incentive program is a good
deal for taxpayers. But the program could be improved by publishing
lists of companies getting tax refunds, increasing monitoring and
requiring firms to provide health insurance, the report said.

Other studies have found no direct link between incentives and the
creation of jobs.

"Most incentives are outright corporate welfare," said Bruce Nissen, a
labor economist at Florida International University. Often, they create
low-wage jobs from a public purse that would have gone to cash-strapped
schools, Nissen added.

"As taxpayers, we have the right to know where our money is going,"
said Sen. Mike Fasano, R-New Port Richey, chairman of the Senate
Committee on Transportation and Economic Development Appropriations.

Fasano recently requested information about the trophy deal to bring a
branch of California's Scripps Research Institute to Palm Beach.

Bush persuaded the Legislature to earmark $310-million (plus
$59-million in interest) for Scripps, which has promised to buy
scientific equipment, create 545 jobs over seven years and help wean
Florida from its dependence on low-paying tourism jobs. Palm Beach has
pledged an additional $200-million.

A litany of successes
Florida hails the Scripps deal as a shining success, a true partnership
between government and industry bringing high-wage jobs in the new
economy.

In glossy brochures, incentive supporters cite a litany of similar
success stories - from Fortune 500 climbers like Fidelity National
Financial, which relocated its headquarters to Jacksonville from
California in 2003, to companies like Nestle, the Swiss conglomerate
that recently opened a bottled-water plant in North Florida.

Yet, ask them how many jobs created with the help of incentives have
come and then gone abroad, and there are no numbers. And they don't
track how many of the new employees or their dependents get health
benefits.

In 2003, they even had trouble locating companies that the state had
certified for incentives.

When the staff of a state Senate committee sent surveys that year to
183 businesses eligible for tax refunds, only 38 responded. Thirty-nine
came back "return to sender."

The Senate review was largely positive, but it glossed over a
surprising fact: More than half the companies that did respond to the
survey said they probably would have located or expanded in Florida
without the incentives.

In a statement, the governor's office accused the Times of focusing on
the negative and neglecting the good that has come from the Bush
administration's economic development policies..

The governor's office and Orange County also defended the incentives
awarded to the struggling Orlando microchip plant, whose owners have
increasingly relied on contract manufacturers in Asia.

"We are disappointed any time jobs leave Florida," said Scott Openshaw,
a spokesman for the governor's Office of Tourism, Trade and Economic
Development. "But as in any free market and business industry, there is
always risk."

Debra Aul, who was hired to work at the plant in 1997 for $6.91 an hour
plus benefits and dismissed with hundreds of co-workers four years
later, sees the incentive game differently.

"I would think the government would have gotten outraged at what
happened," said Aul, 47, who got steady raises and assumed the company
was there to stay. "But it seemed like the only people who were
concerned about jobs going to Singapore were the people losing their
jobs."

High-stakes bidding war
Ever since the 1850s, politicians in Florida have given free land and
tax breaks to their favorite industries, notably citrus companies and
tourism businesses.

It wasn't until the mid 1990s, however, that Florida joined the
high-stakes bidding war that pits state against state for jobs.

A turning point came when Alabama lavished $253-million on a proposed
Mercedes-Benz plant near Tuscaloosa.

Under pressure from Florida companies to level the playing field,
then-Gov. Lawton Chiles agreed to give business a stronger hand in
economic development.

To that end, the Legislature created Enterprise Florida, a tax-exempt,
nonprofit group that operates with corporate contributions and about
$11-million a year in state money. Its board is led by the governor but
dominated by executives from banks, utilities, real estate and large
firms that sometimes benefit from incentives themselves.

Throughout the 1990s, dozens of similar public-private partnerships
grew up across the state as the roles of industry and government became
intertwined.

By the time Bush took office in 1999, broken jobmaking promises and
public opposition to "corporate welfare" had tempered some states' zeal
for the incentives game.

In Alabama, a coalition of religious and community groups began
battling corporations that grabbed incentives but failed to pay their
fair share of taxes. In Nebraska, lawmakers demanded greater public
disclosure of business tax incentives.

And in Ohio, small businesses convinced a U.S. appeals court last year
that a tax incentive given to DaimlerChrysler was discriminatory and
unconstitutional.

In Florida, Bush has pressed for more tax incentives, helped establish
more training for workers and personally intervened, like Chiles, in
big-ticket deals.

Today, the governor presides over an economic development spending
program so vast that no one seems to know the total bill.
Shrouded in secrecy
The state's share of the total bill could top $900-million in 2004-05,
according to a Times analysis.

Most of that will come from tax breaks designed to encourage companies
to plow money into plant expansion, new equipment, people and research
and thus spur growth in the businesses and the economy. But the state
seldom evaluates whether the tax breaks are working.

Over the years, the Legislature has created more than 50 of these tax
breaks, sometimes at the behest of a business or a few businesses
lobbying for incentives. Combined, the tax breaks could mean a loss of
more than $792-million in revenue this year.

(When the governor's office tallies the cost of economic development,
it omits many of these tax subsidies, saying they are not incentives but
part of Florida's business friendly tax structure available to any
company.)

Since tax returns are confidential, the state Revenue Department is not
allowed to say - and in some cases doesn't even know - which companies
benefit or how much they get.

The governor's office does, however, identify businesses that get some
of the tax breaks, including firms that promise to create jobs in
special low-tax areas designated by the state.

Among past recipients: Home Depot, Winn-Dixie, Publix and Wal-Mart, the
world's biggest retailer with $285-billion in revenues last year and a
workforce larger than those of General Motors, Ford, General Electric
and IBM combined.

Wal-Mart says incentives are "a jackpot investment" because it pays far
more in state and local taxes than it gets in tax breaks and other forms
of government aid.

With 91,000 Florida employees, the company reported paying
$58.7-million in state and local taxes last year.

In addition to the $792-million in tax breaks, Florida has earmarked
$119-million this year for the economic development bureaucracy and a
raft of incentives for individual companies. They range from outright
cash payments to training grants to road-building funds given to local
governments on behalf of companies that promise to create jobs.

Only about 800 - less than one-tenth of 1 percent of all the businesses
in Florida - have received funding in recent years from 10 of the most
widely known programs, according to records released by the state. More
than 400 of those companies have gotten a tax break designed to
encourage businesses to donate to community development and low-income
housing projects. Between 1997 and 2002, the Times Publishing Co.,
publisher of the Times, received $402,500 for making donations to local
museums and community organizations.

There is also a third kind of spending that puts Florida's total well
above $900-million. The state will distribute about $21.7-million this
year in sales tax revenue on behalf of the World Golf Hall of Fame north
of St. Augustine, the International Game Fish Association Fishing Hall
of Fame and Museum in Dania Beach and pro sports facilities, notably
those for the Florida Marlins, Jacksonville Jaguars, Tampa Bay Devil
Rays, Tampa Bay Lightning, Florida Panthers, Tampa Bay Buccaneers and
Miami Heat.

The $900-million tab does not include the incentives provided by local
and federal government. Businesses can get everything from free land and
wastewater treatment plants to federal training funds. Something as
simple as a change of zoning from "rural" to "business" can increase the
value of a property a thousand-fold.

The total cost of federal, state and local incentives is hard to track
because Florida apparently does not keep a combined list of costs.

Florida does publish a yearly report disclosing federal, state and
local costs of incentives used in "enterprise zones," the low-tax areas
that get special programs to spur jobs and investment there.

In 2003-04, the tab came to $87.7-million for 7,702 promised jobs in 51
zones. The cost per job: $11,392.

A lead player in the deal making is the governor's Office of Tourism,
Trade and Economic Development, an 8-year-old agency with about 20
employees. It works with the Legislature, business leaders and economic
development groups like Enterprise Florida to set policy. It oversees
some but not all incentives and approves deals recommended by Enterprise
Florida.

By law, the trade office, known in government and business circles as
OTTED, doesn't have to disclose key information, including the wages and
taxes that companies getting incentives pay.

"For these programs to be effective incentives, businesses using them
must not feel that their detailed records are being exposed to public
dissemination where they will be available for their competitors to
see," the governor's trade office wrote in a report to the Legislature
in 2001.

Some small businesses say, however, that incentive deals themselves
give unfair advantages to the firms chosen to get them - often at the
expense of homegrown companies that never threaten to leave town.

"It's robbing from the poor to give to the rich," lawyer Michael
Woodward told the Putnam County Commission in May 2000 before it gave 22
acres and millions of dollars for Sykes Enterprises to build a call
center in Palatka. "If you want to help someone, help your own people."

Four years and many incentives later, Sykes eliminated its Palatka
workforce and put its building up for sale.

The same fate
Hundreds of newly hired workers at the chip plant near Orlando met the
same unhappy fate.

The factory processes silicon wafers, the millimeter-thick plates that
are cut into the tiny chips inside desktop computers and cell phones.

AT&T's equipment subsidiary, Western Electric, announced it would build
the plant in 1980 and hire at least 1,500 employees and possibly more
later.

From the start, there were generous incentives: $5.5-million for roads
and sewer upgrades; $184,535 for water mains extensions; generous
permits so the plant could use huge quantities of water and wastewater;
a new electric substation built on Western's property - with enough
juice to power 38,000 residential customers.

Despite the concessions, the plant never operated at full capacity.
First, the project was put on hold as AT&T fought to preserve its
telephone monopoly in court. Then, after the breakup of the monopoly,
AT&T struggled with layoffs, corporate upheavals, younger, more feisty
telecom rivals and cheap chips from Japan.

More government aid was on the way, however: Three times in the 1990s,
AT&T and its corporate offspring dangled the possibility of a major
plant upgrade with more jobs or hinted that the plant would leave town -
or both. And each time, state and local government scrambled to come up
with more incentives - all the while reassuring taxpayers that the
factory was turning a region of low-paying tourism jobs into a
high-tech, high-wage mecca.

"The investment will include three to four generations of technology,
thus guaranteeing a commitment to Florida and Orlando of many years to
come," a local business group wrote on behalf of AT&T in July 1995.

From that point until 2003, Florida, Orange County and the city of
Orlando passed new incentive laws, relaxed rules, signed at least 10
agreements and dispensed an assortment of benefits worth at least
$49-million. The benefits included tax breaks, cash, training aid, sewer
discounts and high-tech equipment.

Exactly how much public money was pumped into the plant isn't clear,
however, because Florida didn't keep (or won't disclose) a list of
combined costs for this or any other incentive deal.

Before Chiles' administration approved the first deal in 1995, a key
deputy said his staff had done a thorough review and had a stringent
system in place to ensure that the company fulfilled its promises.

Yet over the years, the state relied heavily on the word of AT&T and
its successors. There were no safeguards against layoffs, no provisions
to give hiring preference to local vendors and no requirement that the
plant owners retain the new jobs for any prolonged period.

By July 2001, less than two years after the last incentive agreements,
high tech had hit the skids. Lucent Technologies, which had taken over
the plant and was spinning it off to its Agere Systems subsidiary, had
gotten a junk-bond credit rating.

The Orlando Sentinel reported that the plant had fallen below the
minimum threshold of jobs needed to qualify for county incentives.

Even so, Bush's top trade deputy, Dr. Pamella Dana, approved tax
refunds for $856,250, saying that the plant had met all of its
previous-year state job commitments. Her approval letter, dated Aug.20,
2001, came with a handwritten note: "Congratulations on your continued
success!"

In September, Agere's executives told the state they couldn't meet the
terms of their agreements. They worried they would have to return the
money.

Dana told them not to worry.

"There is no statutory requirement, nor is it ... (the state's)
practice, to require qualified applicants to forfeit prior year award
payments if they cannot meet current year requirements," she said in a
letter dated Oct.22, 2001.

Agere put the factory up for sale in January 2002, but a year later
Dana endorsed a new round of sales tax breaks for Agere.

Now, unless the company can find a buyer by the end of the year, it
will close the plant.

A megaboost or bust?
So were all the incentives worth it?

Yes, says the state, which denies its treatment of the plant was too
lenient. In fact, Openshaw, the governor's trade office spokesman, said
that Florida's use of incentives in the case of the plant and other
companies is conservative by comparison to other states.

He also said that, unlike some states, Florida hands out benefits only
after companies create jobs and pay taxes.

"You might argue that the state didn't maximize its investment, but
neither did it lose money," Openshaw said. Florida enjoyed 500 new jobs
paying $20,000 above the county average for a long time, he said.

Agere says it and its predecessors made up for all the inducements with
a $100-million payroll, at least $66-million in local taxes and at least
$31-million in donations to public universities, schools and charities.

"There is no doubt that the investments made by the community have paid
off many times over," said Steven Goldsmith, a spokesman for Agere.

John Lewis, Orange County's economic development administrator, said
the deal paid off because the county crafted "smart agreements" with
safeguards so that the company got paid only for goals it met. The
county paid $3.1-million of the originally promised $22-million, he
said.

"We did not "give away the farm,' as they say," Lewis said, noting that
Orange could have lost all the jobs and millions in tax revenue if the
plant had moved out of state in 1995.

The largest beneficiaries were USF and UCF, where administrators say
Lucent's deep pockets brought new state-of-the-art labs stocked with
high-tech equipment, training and research programs for future engineers
and a new day for university-industry partnerships.

But even at the schools, the incentives had a downside. The
universities spent much of the corporate money - which was matched by
state funds - on commercial equipment of little use to most students.
Some of the costly machines were leased back to the company and
installed at the plant for commercial chipmaking operations.

When the leases are up, the universities could end up selling much of
the aging equipment for a fraction of its original value.

Some former chip workers, who lost their pensions as well as their
jobs, say government wasted millions on a mirage of job creation.

"The company had a plan to sell these jobs overseas, and it seemed like
it accelerated and happened under our noses," said Nicholas Frisco, a
former union leader who earned about $42,000 a year plus benefits
working in the plant's maintenance storeroom. He resigned in 2002 at age
56 after 35 years with the telephone company.

Debra Aul, who went back to school after she was laid off in 2001, now
teaches and does freelance editing. She said the company should be held
accountable for not keeping its part of the bargain. She wonders when
the government first noticed that tax breaks were subsidizing the moving
van.

"Those jobs are now in Singapore," she said. "When did they find out?
Did they turn a blind eye? Or were they truly clueless?"

-- Times researchers Kitty Bennett and Carolyn Edds contributed to this
report.

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