In 2019, when running for office, Doug Chew made a loud and proud campaign promise. Send him to the courthouse as a Westmoreland County commissioner, and he would take 60% of his paycheck and donate it to the drug court.
The people listened. They gave him the job. Like other elected officials, Chew received his paycheck.
In December 2020, as his first year in office came to a close, he made his promise again. That check would be written, dutifully, every year.
That didn’t happen.
In September 2021, he said it wasn’t necessary. The drug court had all the funding it needed. He said it right before the program lost a $50,000 grant. Chew’s pledged and unfulfilled donation would have been more than $48,000.
In July 2021, he answered criticism about the missing pledges by saying he donated to a litany of other charities. That’s a lovely example. We should all donate to our nonprofit organizations to make our communities better through social services, the arts, historical preservation and more. But that wasn’t the promise.
In December 2021, Chew said he was writing a grant application. That’s good. It’s something that commissioners should do. Finding grants and other funding is part of the job. It is not, however, the same thing as honoring a promise.
Now, as another year comes to an end and with the added attention of a hefty 7.8% salary increase for Westmoreland County officials from the commissioners on down, Chew’s campaign promise comes into focus once again.
Let’s be clear about something: No one should have to fork over 60% of a paycheck to get a job. No, the point is that this is an unforced error on Chew’s part.
While many campaign promises come with strong language, they are often carefully structured around loopholes. A candidate might promise to work on balancing the budget. If the budget doesn’t get balanced, well, that doesn’t mean the candidate didn’t do the work. Sometimes it’s a promise to take an action where failure can be easily dismissed by a little finger-pointing.
Chew promised something he didn’t have to promise. No one else offered up their paychecks — although Commissioner Chairman Sean Kertes did kick in personally for the drug court’s shortfall on weekend drug testing as did Treasurer Jared Squires and local attorney Scott Avolio.
So Chew has no one else to blame when the question keeps popping up. He made the promise. When he gets an automatic raise of several thousand dollars, it is a natural reminder of the check he never wrote.
