North Jersey Editorial Board

North Jersey Record

We’ve found ourselves asking this question far too many times before: Is it really too much to ask from lawmakers to be genuinely upfront with the public about what they want to do and why?

The answer, sadly, seems always to be the same: Apparently so.

The latest cheap stunt comes from Trenton, where our noble leaders sneaked $10 million worth of increases into the new state budget to boost legislative aide salaries, thus avoiding any meaningful public scrutiny of the plan.

We would not have objected to at least considering potential raises. Legislators have received a base of $110,000 each toward staff salaries since 2002. But by quietly shifting around $10 million as budget surplus, lawmakers are boosting that figure to $135,000 — not unreasonable after so many years at the same level. That’s especially true given that the Legislature had earlier approved more egregious raises for judges, prosecutors and other highly paid appointees. If those workers are getting a salary bump, then why not more modestly paid, hardworking employees?

The flip side is that this comes at a time when Murphy wants to squeeze taxpayers for even more money amid severe financial burdens. This is hardly the best time to be talking about widespread salary hikes.

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Democratic leadership knew that. So they went into stealth mode. The same issue generated controversy as recently as 2016, when top Democrats and former Gov. Chris Christie struck a deal allowing Christie to profit from a book deal while in office in exchange for a flurry of raises for employees ranging from top officials down to legislative aides. That effort thankfully stalled, but supporters of that trade understood how the public might react this time.

Senate President Stephen Sweeney and Assembly Speaker Craig Coughlin both released statements saying virtually the exact same thing we hear any time controversial taxpayer-funded raises are questioned: that it’s so terribly important to recruit and retain good people serving the public — even though it’s not at all clear exactly how much the quality of public service is affected by the absence of such raises.

But if the increases are so defensible, then advocates should defend them — before they are finalized and without trying to duck a public debate.

“Whether or not it’s justified, allocating $10 million behind closed doors for such a controversial public purpose comes off as deliberately evasive,” said Assemblywoman Amy Handlin, R-Monmouth.

She’s right. She’s also right when she says such maneuvers inevitably prompt taxpayers to wonder — with good reason — for what else they’re stuck paying without knowing anything about it.

The only reasonable conclusion is that lawmakers willing to play these kinds of games simply don’t care about public trust. They’d rather do what they want to do, recognizing that undecided voters won’t find more trustworthy figures on the other side of the aisle, and will mostly make their decisions on other issues.

Transparency in politics, as always, is far too expendable. The handling of the legislative raises provides just one more example.