As Los Angeles first responders address the fallout from this month’s riots, the bill threatens to be especially high. Past policy choices from state and city officials have made handling each successive crisis even tougher, both logistically and financially. Without a serious change in priorities, Californians can expect a vicious cycle of escalating costs.
Set aside the estimated $134 million cost of federal backup, and $20 million already reported spent by the county sheriff’s department. The latter expects to shell out a record half-a-billion in overtime pay this fiscal year. Last year, the city set its own record $1.1 billion paid for extra hours, $256 million of it at the Los Angeles Police Department. That citywide figure is bigger than the entire projected budget shortfall Mayor Karen Bass was facing earlier in the year.
The overtime avalanche has no single cause; red tape, staffing levels and high base salaries all play a role.
One need only turn back the clock a few years to begin explaining dwindling headcounts. California saw some of the longest-lasting COVID lockdowns nationwide. Then-Mayor Garcetti didn’t lift LA’s state of emergency until March 2023, three years after Americans first heard “two weeks to slow the spread.” The LAPD had been shrinking for years, but early retirements culled the force to its smallest in two decades. In 2020, there were 14,902 employees, but by 2024 that sank to 12,617 with only 8,800 sworn officers.
When lockdowns squeezed revenues, over 2,000 workers retired early under a program meant to reduce payroll. City controller data shows a 17.5% job vacancy rate citywide at the end of 2023, up from 11% before the pandemic.
Then there are the bureaucratic hurdles. Dana Brown, head of the city’s personnel department, blamed LAPD shortages on “archaic” civil service rules that often force applicants to wait six months or more during the hiring process. The LAPD received 53% more job applications in 2024 than in 2022, but delays meant 9% fewer candidates received a background check.
Finally, there are the hefty salaries. My organization, Open the Books, first examined high Los Angeles wages in 2022 when we wondered at how a county lifeguard could have earned $510,000 in compensation in a single year, or collect $980,000 in overtime alone over just five years. A rich deal with the LA County Lifeguard Association made it possible. Their contract stipulates lifeguards with 30 years of service can retire as soon as age 55 on 79% of their pay, allowing some to collect six-figure checks for decades more.
That friendly dealmaking with public employee unions led to a recent 13 percent pay bump for the LAPD, negotiated by Mayor Bass. The top-compensated detective took home $603,887 last fiscal year, $404,875 of it as overtime. Each of the top ten earners made more than the president.
The picture is similar at the Fire Department, where the top ten each earned over $500,000, led by the battalion chief with $905,060.
It’s reasonable to argue those with dangerous roles deserve handsome rewards, but the problem persists across the city and county, including at the Department of Water and Power. Made infamous after this year’s wildfires were met with empty hydrants in the Palisades, it accounted for eight of the ten highest-paid city employees in 2023. The top earner collected $857,458.
Furthermore, police chief Jim McDonnell makes nearly double his counterparts in New York and Chicago – that’s not a matter of danger, but of resource allocation.
Speaking of which, Sheriff Robert G. Luna, under fire for posting heartfelt sympathy for bomb victims in Iran, collected $556,000 in total compensation last year. He could have allocated $50,000 to media training and history courses while still pocketing half a million.
This overtime effect is so dramatic that many rank-and-file employees are catapulted beyond leadership compensation. For example, 4,114 employees took home more than Newsom last year ($242,195). Bass’s own $328,394 is dwarfed by some of these examples.
Perhaps that’s as it should be; after all, they’ve forced Californians into this “pay now, pay more later” model.
Another COVID-related example illustrates the vicious cycle even more starkly. During Summer 2022, First Partner Jennifer Siebel Newsom successfully advocated for $4.7 billion in additional spending for K-12 mental health. In a report from her own nonprofit, she said “teens are experiencing a tremendous loss due to school closure and social distancing,” describing their “denial, anger, and depression.” If she were to cast her eyes about for those responsible, they’d likely land somewhere in the same room – on her husband.
Cozy public union relationships, layers of government overreach and red tape have put Californians in a hole. Digging out will take a fresh approach to resource allocation, focused on efficiency and essential services. Until then, past choices will keep handicapping future operations.
John Hart is CEO of Open the Books, and former communications director for U.S. Senator Tom Coburn.