Take a walk around that table where House budgeteers left $4.2 billion sitting. It's a peculiar thing in a state capitol to see a pile of available, unencumbered money after the budget is drafted.
The loose money, along with the money expected to be on hand in the state's Rainy Day Fund at the end of the fiscal year, totals about $8.5 billion. It's got a kind of magnetic field around it that warps some of the normal rules about state spending.
• It's enough to give each citizen of Texas — from newborns to nonagenarians — a check for more than $3,600.
• It's enough to pay for everything on the "wish list" that's stashed in the back of the budget approved by House Appropriations this week (See The Maybe Budget).
• About half of the money could be spent with the existing spending cap. Put it another way: If you don't count school finance, lawmakers could spend another $4 billion or so without growing the budget faster than the economy.
• That half is enough to lower school property taxes by about 40 cents for one year.
• It would cover the tab for the prison system and the Department of Public Safety — and everything else in that section of the budget — for more than a year.
• It's enough to run the Legislature and all of the state's judiciary for five years.
• It would cover the state's health and human service spending for about five months.
And it presents a political problem for state budgeteers. They have enough money on hand to pay for any number of things they and others want to do. But they don't want to spend everything they've got.
Part of that is fear of school finance. Lawmakers don't really know what the state's new business tax will bring in, and they won't know for certain, once and for all, until spring of next year. But they've promised to spend enough to lower school property taxes to $1, and they want to have some money socked away in case the business tax comes up short. It wouldn't be a complete surprise: Then-Comptroller Carole Keeton Strayhorn told lawmakers when they were working on it that the school finance package was out of balance to the tune of about $25 billion over five years.
Part of it is fear of U.S. District Judge William Wayne Justice. He's in charge of a case brought against the state for not doing it's job under federal health and welfare programs for children. The state has lost the case and now it's waiting for the outcome of a conference between the judge and the various lawyers to find out what the remedies are and what they'll cost. Most estimates put that at $500 million annually or less, but some pessimists think the numbers will be much higher.
And part of it is resistance to increases in state spending. Conservatives still run the Legislature and still want to hold the line on increases in the state budget. And they point out that the mound of money available now is about the same size as the deficit they faced in 2003. Budget cuts made then, they say, were more painful than holding the line will be this year.
The stack of greenbacks is tough on another group, too. Gambling promoters generally count on stress to win permission for their games. Tight budget times work well for them. But even times of plenty can work, if legislators are looking for money for large pet projects. But when lawmakers won't even spend the money they've got, it's hard to sell casinos or slot machines as money-makers for the state. One proposal would use gaming money to send kids to college. Another would fund health care for kids or even for larger groups that include adults. At this point, that's a tough sell.