Douglas Rooks has been a Maine editor, columnist and reporter for 40 years. He welcomes comment at [email protected].

In 1990, Republican Gov. John McKernan was running for reelection and Democratic House Speaker John Martin was looking to pad the party’s sizable legislative majorities. The savings and loan crisis — the collapse of hundreds of banks after unwise deregulation in the Reagan administration — had unsettled the economy and a recession was looming. Maine banks were particularly hard-hit, century-old financial institutions were dissolving and the state’s prospects were worse than the nation’s.

With revenues already sinking, Martin and McKernan made a deal. Before going out to campaign, they emptied the rainy day fund the state maintained against financial emergencies. When the 1991 Legislature convened in January, the gap between revenues and projected spending was far greater than anyone had imagined. Animosity and finger-pointing began, continuing throughout the session and into July.

The governor and lawmakers were forced into major budget cuts eliminating whole agencies, along with punishing tax increases. Then a state shutdown, lasting almost a month, did lasting damage both to competence of state government and Mainers’ confidence in it.

In some respects, especially cross-party cooperation, we’ve never recovered.

It’s unlikely any such dire outcome will result from Gov. Janet Mills’ final supplemental budget proposal, outlined in last week’s State of the State address, but there are substantial reasons for concern.

Throughout two terms, Mills has been averse to creating any new programs or substantially restructuring those that have lost their effectiveness, and has managed state finances almost as if she were balancing a checkbook.

Amid the flood of federal pandemic aid that spanned the first and second term, Mills built the rainy day fund to its maximum $1 billion level while abandoning general fund bond issues, which must be approved by voters, as a means of future investment. Surpluses continued to roll in, thanks to robust income tax collections, and while Republicans complained about a lack of tax cuts, Democrats were mostly willing to go along.

Mills’ aversion to bond issues is particularly striking. A governor’s bond package was a standard part of legislative proceedings from the 1950s through 2010, when Paul LePage was elected. LePage intensely disliked borrowing, canceled already approved bonds and made it clear only highway bonds had his support. Gas tax and other dedicated revenues have been falling for decades, and the borrowing was more filling a leaky bucket than building new infrastructure.

Finally, Democrats got LePage to agree to the last comprehensive bond package to date, in the election year of 2018. Four questions, all approved handily, supported community colleges, the university system, wastewater treatment and, of course, roads and bridges.

As governor, Mills proposed three more $100 million-plus highway bonds in her first term, but not since. The road problem was finessed by annual transfers from the general and liquor funds, diverting money supposed to go toward education, health care and all the other purposes of state government. The leaky bucket is being filled another way.

In her second term, Mills has proposed no bond issues. Traditional recipients of such investment in infrastructure — higher education, drinking water and wastewater treatment, public lands — have all gone without. Three small bonds voted in 2024 were entirely legislative initiatives. Maine’s school construction program is falling far short of what’s needed for adequate school facilities, yet Mills has no response.

Now, the governor is seeking additional spending, some $218 million to send out $300 checks to most households, and $70 million to subsidize private housing construction. The housing proposal would normally be a bond issue for voters, but it’s difficult to know what to make of the checks.

Maine, like most states and the federal government, sent out several rounds of checks during the pandemic, when there was a steep though blessedly short recession and millions of jobs vanished overnight. What’s the emergency now?

What’s worse is the governor’s proposed funding source: the rainy day fund. Since the debacle of 1991, the fund has waxed and waned, but has been spent down only when there were actual shortfalls, which there aren’t now.

Other than burnishing political prospects, it’s hard to justify this spending, which smacks more of President Trump’s mythical “tariff refund” checks than any real answer to “affordability” concerns.

To date, legislative Democrats have been content to do the governor’s bidding, even if it’s resulted in substantial underinvestment in Maine’s public services. No one knows, however, when there will be a economic downturn and the rainy day fund could be a vital part of threading the needle between spending cuts and the dread tax increases.

A little independent thinking would be in order, if lawmakers are up to it.