When Duluth voters dumped Emily Larson for Roger Reinert, it wasn’t because they suddenly found Roger irresistible. It was because they were sick of opening their tax statements every year and needing a paper bag to breathe into. Larson had a gift for blending two words — “levy increase” — with a third: “inevitable.” And after eight years of that spin, Duluthians called mercy.
Reinert saw his opening and waltzed through it. He campaigned like a guy who would break the cycle, finally hold the line, and bring fiscal sobriety back to City Hall. He promised no more runaway hikes, no more smiling explanations about why grandma’s house taxes just went up again, and he promised to tackle downtown, which has been circling the drain faster than Superior Street potholes after spring thaw.
But now comes his 2026 budget proposal, and right in the middle of it? A “cost of living” tax increase. That’s the branding. That’s the sell. “Cost of living.” If you squint, it sounds like a Duluth marketing campaign — slap it on a mural in Canal Park, maybe sell it on coffee mugs. But the reality is that the phrase is just City Hall code for “tax increase with better packaging.”
And here’s the rub: if the budget really needs more fuel, that's fine. Nobody’s pretending Duluth’s finances are tidy. But this is precisely the pickle Reinert put himself in. He won because voters believed he’d stop this game, not invent a shinier label. You can’t ride to office on a no-more-levy-hikes horse and then dismount with a bag of new taxes under your arm. Unless, of course, you’re betting voters won’t remember what you said during the election.
Of course, like every politician who wore a top hat, Reinert will swear he never promised a freeze. He’ll argue he was “responsible,” not reckless. He’ll say this is a modest bump to keep pace with inflation. And he’ll insist Duluth is finally being “realistic.” That’s the oldest game in the book.
But isn’t kicking the can down the road — with “modest” hikes, deferrals, slogans — the exact reason Duluth is already in this financial ditch? Every mayor has done it. Larson did it with social-work sincerity. Don Ness did it with a smile and a press conference. Herb Bergson probably mumbled through it at a Rotary lunch. And now it looks like Reinert, for all his promises, is doing it too — just with fresher buzzwords.
Meanwhile, Downtown is still what voters screamed about in the last election. Still dangerous. Still embarrassing. Still more open-air rehab clinic than business and entertainment district. And taxpayers are still waiting for something that feels like the “bold action” they thought they were voting for.
Reinert’s supporters might argue: give him time. But time runs fast in politics, and budgets are where words get measured. This moment tells Duluthians whether they elected change, or just another caretaker with smoother spin.
And here’s the kicker: if Reinert thinks voters can’t smell a tax hike through the “cost of living” perfume, he’s underestimating the same folks who just fired a mayor for raising taxes too often. Duluth voters may forgive many things — potholes, failed snow removal, even Spirit Mountain subsidies — but they never forget who took money from their wallet.
So let’s call this what it is: a levy increase, wrapped in marketing — a fresh coat of paint on the same old Duluth habit.
And if Reinert wants to prove he was worth the risk, he had better deliver more than slogans. Because otherwise, the next election’s motto writes itself: We voted for change, and all we got was “cost of living.”
