On Tuesday night, a Lexington resident summed up the vibe in the Council chambers with a shrug: “Feels like they picked out the drapes before asking if we even wanted the house.”
Hard to argue with her.
Because in the span of just two weeks, Lexington’s government has sprinted toward a deal that would spend $30 million upfront and shackle taxpayers to a $3.5 million-per-year lease-to-own agreement for up to 35 years. Do the math and you get something north of $152 million — a price tag big enough to make even the most seasoned budget hawk choke on their Ale-8.
The Gorton administration insists this has been a “transparent process,” citing 35 meetings. What they don’t mention is that none of those meetings were public. Residents only got the full financial picture last week, and their first real chance to speak came at a work session on November 18. Then, with breathtaking speed, Council scheduled a first reading for November 20 and a final vote for right after Thanksgiving — a time when most Lexingtonians are more focused on pies than public debt.
Transparency, but on fast-forward. Civic participation, but only if you can sprint.
Meanwhile, the building we already own — the one that’s fully paid off — supposedly needs about $55 million in repairs. That’s real money. But it’s also far less than the nine-figure commitment on the table. Repairs are possible. There’s no safety crisis forcing a move. And no one has made a convincing argument for why a teardown-and-rebuild beats a fix-what-we-have approach.
Unless, of course, you’re the kind of developer who benefits when the city decides “replace” is more fashionable than “repair.”
Which brings us to the Webb and Greer companies — two of the wealthiest development outfits in Lexington — standing behind the “Opportunity Fund” that would build this gleaming new Government Center. It’s funny how “opportunity” in Lexington seems to be a one-directional flow: upward, never outward.
Why is it always this class — the already well-connected, the already well-capitalized — who get “opportunities,” while everyone else gets rising rents, rising grocery bills, and rising blood pressure?
And yes, it’s worth remembering: the last time Lexington tried to build a new city hall, someone went to federal prison over a straw donation scheme. Different year, same vibe — a politically convenient megaproject pushed by people who won’t be paying for it.
That history alone should make us a little jumpy about rushing through another blockbuster deal before anyone’s had time to read the fine print, let alone debate it.
Because times are hard. More than 1,100 Lexington students qualify as McKinney-Vento — meaning their housing is unstable. Families are juggling utilities, groceries, rent, and medical debt like a shaky tower of Jenga blocks. And the city wants to lock itself into a 35-year commitment that will squeeze future budgets long after today’s leaders have term-limited their way into retirement?
Maybe we can’t afford 35 years of someone else’s priorities?
A $3.5 million annual lease-to-own deal is not fiscally responsible when so many public needs — housing, food access, transit, energy costs — are already underfunded.
Worse, the so-called “Rainy Day Fund” that would help cover the upfront $30 million has only about $40 million in it. If Washington’s political winds shift — and lately they’ve been whipping like spring storms — federal support to cities could thin out fast. That leaves maybe $10 million as a cushion. Not great in a world where budgets can collapse overnight.
And yet, instead of slowing down, listening, and reassessing, the city is accelerating. A 35-year obligation, shoved through in 35 days.
Lexington deserves better than process theater. We deserve public meetings before decisions are made, not after. We deserve a real conversation about needs versus wants. And we deserve leaders who understand that civic priority isn’t determined by who can afford the nicest renderings.
So show up. Email your councilmember. Tell them to vote NO. Tell them to fix the building we already have before handing over more “opportunities” to the folks who least need them.
Because if Lexington must spend $152 million on something, it ought to be the people who live here — not the ones who already own half the skyline.
