Is another northeastern Minnesota school district being led into troubled waters by Johnson Controls? The Grand Rapids School District, which will be taking an estimated $70 million bond measure to the voters this fall, is proposing to close four elementary schools in Grand Rapids and Cohasset and replace them with two consolidated schools.

I won’t go into depth over the many questions I have about the plan, which is more than twice the estimated $33 million price tag for renovating the existing community schools. School officials, in opting for the $70 million plan developed by JCI, say it’s cheaper in the long run, a claim that I suspect has more than a few holes in it.

But for members of what I now call the “school construction-industrial complex,” a $70 million project is always superior to a project that costs half as much, because it means twice as much money in the pockets of consultants, engineers, architects, and contractors. These large public projects represent a gravy train for the construction sector, and that’s why all involved invariably see brand new facilities as the solution for whatever ails a school district.

As most people who know me are well aware, I’m a strong advocate for public education. This newspaper has editorially-supported every excess operating levy ever proposed by a school district in our coverage area, and I have even headed up the Tower-Soudan Vote Yes group for operating levies at least twice. Operating levies put more money in the classroom, and I’m all for that.

The trouble is, in most cases, big capital projects actually mean less money available for the classroom. While most school funding comes from the state, many school districts are still reliant on voters to approve extra operating funds— and taxpayers who are already paying for large capital projects are less likely to support additional operating dollars. That’s why Sen. Tom Bakk engineered a change in the law after the St. Louis County School District scorched its own voters in 2009, leaving little hope the district could even renew its then-modest excess operating levy, much less pass anything additional. So Bakk gave all school districts the authority to levy up to $724 per student, essentially tossing a lifeline to a local school district that was circling the drain financially after the promised “savings” from their Johnson Controls-devised restructuring plan never materialized and transportation costs mushroomed, as critics had predicted.

Putting resources into the classroom can and does make a difference. However, I’ve yet to see a study that shows new buildings add anything to the quality of a student’s education. Technology is great, but it can be added to any building, of any age.

Of course, the engineers, architects, and contractors don’t profit from money that goes towards additional educational resources, which is why every strategic planning effort led by Johnson Controls or one of the other members of the school construction-industrial complex ends up with a proposal for a multi-million dollar capital project.

And in recent years, these companies have taken advantage of non-existent state oversight of school district elections by using sophisticated marketing methods to sell an unsuspecting public on new schools they often don’t need. And while these companies, in many cases, stand to benefit financially from passage of these referenda, they’re able to convince school boards to bankroll the campaign with taxpayer dollars, something that school districts aren’t supposed to do. It forces taxpayers to pay twice— once when their tax dollars finance the spin campaign, and second when at least 51 percent of the voters fall victim to the spin.

If voters in Grand Rapids choose a tax increase for new schools, that’s their choice. What concerns me is seeing the same promotional playbook that allowed ISD 2142 to pass its 2009 referendum being rolled out on the voters in Grand Rapids. It’s as if school districts haven’t learned a thing from the cautionary tale of the St. Louis County Schools and the four and a half years of litigation that resulted from their promotional campaign.

Already, the Grand Rapids school district’s website features promotional videos with many of the same arguments that JCI and its public relations allies offered up here six years ago. The schools, they say, are “old,” dating from the 1940s to the 1960s, are expensive to operate, don’t have the latest technology, and aren’t designed for 21st century educational models, whatever those might be.

These same purported problems, combined with a laundry list of benefits of the new schools, are incorporated into a PowerPoint presentation that the district has used at community meetings and on their website. Most of these “benefits” entail nothing more than educational buzzwords, like “supported instruction spaces,” which we used to refer to as “classrooms.” Or “collaboration areas,” otherwise known as a table where more than one student can work together. They contrast current photos, of kids sitting on the floor in dark hallways or closets, with smiling faces (pulled from the Internet) of kids in a colorful, well-lit setting. To call it “over-the-top marketing” is being kind. And don’t look for the school district to report any of its campaign spending— and certainly don’t look for any officials in St. Paul to inquire about it, either. These days, policing government abuse is a task that has pretty much been consigned to average citizens and to the ever-shrinking handful of crotchety newspaper editors still out there who are willing to rake the muck.

It’s an uphill battle in the face of most media that are too quick to ignore problems, and public officials who are weak, incompetent, or part of the problem.

Of course, no one ever said self-government was going to be easy. It was 239 years ago last week that we, as a nation, declared independence from Great Britain, and proposed a government of, by, and for the people. It was an impressive concept, but it’s proven to be a tough task that’s never finished.

Yet, the day we stop fighting those who would abuse the power of government for private gain, rather than for the public interest, is the day all of those fancy words penned back in 1776 lose their meaning. The day we become cynical, or let apathy determine our future, is the day we surrender as a self-governing nation. Fortunately, a lot of us still think these are principles worthy of the fight.