February 14, 2008 09:51 am We didn't need further proof that Michigan's legislative process is not only dysfunctional but ethically bankrupt. We got it anyway. As reported by the Record-Eagle last week, state lawmakers crafted an $8.5 million tax break for Meijer, Inc. and millions more in breaks for a host of other businesses even as they were increasing income and business taxes on the rest of us suckers. If you feel like you've been had, you have -- along with 10 million or so other Michiganders. The tax break in question doesn't specifically name Meijer. That would be crude. Instead, it is structured so that the only company in the state that would qualify is Meijer, Inc. What a lucky break for them, eh? They weren't the only ones to hit it rich. Other economically challenged folks, such as professional sports stadiums (including the Palace of Auburn Hills, which has sold out 210 straight Detroit Pistons home games as of Wednesday and is owned by Bill Davidson, one of the richest men in Michigan), Michigan International Speedway, banks and the insurance industry also cashed in. But Meijer was the only business singled out to receive special treatment above and beyond its retail industry competitors. Meijer refused to talk, but sent an unsigned statement that said the tax break was intended to "incent growth in large concentrations of skilled workers typically found in headquarters or research facilities." What malarkey. These aren't exactly homeless folks, after all; they are "skilled workers." But they apparently needed some "incenting" anyway. A Department of Treasury official said the tax break request -- which got most of its support from House Democrats -- came directly from Meijer and was inserted into a conference committee where the final bill was negotiated between the House, Senate and administration of Gov. Jennifer Granholm. No one at the table, apparently, was lobbying for taxpayers. To his credit, state Rep. Howard Walker, R-Traverse City, refused to vote for the tax bills that included the special corporate treats. "I really thought special carve-outs for individual entities was just pure bad policy," he said. Unfortunately, Walker and others aware of what was going on didn't expose the back-room shenanigans until it was too late. It might not have made a difference, but it would have been worth the try. This must be called what it is -- corruption. Lawmakers and the firms that shower them with campaign contributions in return for special favors won't say that, of course, but that's what it is; worse is that it's simply the way business gets done in Lansing. We didn't really need further proof of that fact, but we got it anyway.
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