Sixty-six days into Donald Trump’s second term, Gov. Ned Lamont convened a press conference at the University of Connecticut Health Center to announce the rescission of roughly $155 million in federal public health funding to Connecticut. The cuts would gut infectious disease surveillance, newborn genetic screening, and childhood immunization programs.
“We have been modeling out potential outcomes and monitoring funding for critical programs,” said Lamont, Senate President Martin Looney, and Speaker Matt Ritter in a joint statement the following day, committing: “we will review these on a case-by-case basis to understand the impact and protect our most essential programs.”
The additional $880 billion in federal cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, food assistance, special education, and more currently under debate in Washington is already projected to cost Connecticut at least $1 billion. And so it begins. Across the country, Democratic officials at every level will organize —publicly and politically— to fend off crippling federal cuts to essential public services.
Unfortunately, the state of Connecticut could not be in a worse position to endure the coming troubles of a second Trump administration. Not because of a lack of resources —but because of a lack of will. A lack of moral character. For six years, the state has been governed by a brand of fiscal caution that has been marketed successfully as “responsible” leadership. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.
When he was sworn in in 2019, Governor Lamont faced a projected $1.5 billion deficit—a hole he and state lawmakers closed with a variety of creative solutions. One was diverting $170 million in vehicle sales tax revenue from the Special Transportation Fund (STF) to the General Fund. Notably, full dedication of this revenue stream to the STF was later achieved by FY2023 —a promise kept. Kudos to Lamont and company: actually, a deft budget move.
There were more risky maneuvers as well—saving $183 million in one year and $189 million in another by restructuring the state’s pension obligations to teachers and public employees. The changes extended the state’s pension debt schedule from 2032 to 2050, while wisely lowering the assumed return on investment from 8% to 6.9% (though 6% would have been more realistic). But two more decades of sustained economic growth to make ballooning payments is a risky bet—especially now, in an era of federal upheaval, inflation shocks, tariff-driven price hikes (and the profit-padding they conceal), sticky interest rates, and ballooning federal debt, all in service of extreme wealth concentration. When future lawmakers complain about “leaders of both parties” who “passed the buck” or “kicked the can down the road,” they’ll be talking about Governor Lamont, that budget, and those votes.
There were additional savings—$460 million over two years—from sacrifices made by our state workers—furlough days, delayed bonuses, three years of wage freezes, and higher employee contributions to healthcare and pensions. These weren’t theoretical cuts. They meant smaller paychecks, delayed promotions, steeper out-of-pocket costs, and more worry in the lives of the people who plow and repair our roads, process benefit applications, ensure our public safety.
And while workers gave more, the administration drew it’s only red line: no new taxes on the wealthy. There were gestures of progressivity—$6.3 million in revenue from a modest tax increase on real estate transactions for homeowners moving out of state and selling their houses for more than $2.5 million. A pretty penny of $50 million was taken in from trimming a 93% tax credit giveaway to owners of “pass through entities”—law firms, real estate groups, private equity funds—down to 87.5%, which still remains a pretty generous giveaway to help wealthy business owners avoid state and local tax (SALT) deduction caps while the rest of us pay extra taxes for the same reason.
But by and away, the bulk of new revenue in Lamont’s first budget came from a broad-based scheme of regressive taxes and fees. A total of $218.4 million was raised through sales tax increases on services like parking, laundry, dry cleaning, interior design, online sales, and digital downloads (which, as a member of a digitally native generation—I hate paying). And perhaps most egregiously of all, the budget taxed prepared grocery items—literally taking food out of people’s shopping carts. Could you imagine proposing an increase to grocery pricestoday?
In the years that followed, Connecticut’s budget outlook didn’t just stabilize—it soared. The state became flush with cash not because of Lamont’s tax policy, but because of a rare confluence of economic conditions: soaring stock market gains among the wealthy, record corporate profits, inflated consumer spending driven by stimulus, a pandemic housing boom, and $2.8 billion in one-time federal COVID relief. In short, the windfall came from the very top of the economy—and from circumstances unlikely to repeat.
Connecticut went from a $1.5 billion deficit in 2019 to record-shattering surpluses: $569 million in 2020, $1.7 billion in 2021, $4.3 billion in 2022, and $1.9 billion in 2023. By 2024, the Rainy Day Fund hit its statutory cap of 18% of the General Fund, totaling $4.1 billion. The excess was used to pay down pension debt—more than $8.5 billion in supplemental payments between 2020 and 2024.
But while the balance sheets were glowing, Connecticut’s public services were quietly hollowing out. After more than a decade of flat funding, state-contracted nonprofits— responsible for mental health care, housing support, substance use treatment, re-entry programs, and services for people with disabilities—now operate with 30% less buying power than they had in 2007. Nearly 2,000 people sit on waitlists at the Department of Social Services, unable to access basic care. At Connecticut’s community colleges, over 400 permanent positions will be cut. Entire staffs eliminated from offices like Career Services.
Cafeteria workers laid off, shutting down food operations. Office administrators, tutors, ESL instructors, and librarians sent home, slashing library hours and student support across multiple campuses. Funny, from a governor who once featured his public school students in his campaign ads.
At a May Day Rally on May 1, on the New Haven Green, I witnessed a licensed practical nurse who worked at a state-affiliated nursing home take the stage. He was a Black man of large stature, caring for people’s parents, grandparents —and caring for us, seniors. He said that the facility had only been supplied with medium gloves. He held out his hand, opened his palm to the crowd, and declared: “These hands don’t fit medium gloves.” He went on to describe coworkers buying hand soap from the dollar store with their own paychecks because the state did not provide any. Then he described having to tape two diapers together to fit a patient because they didn’t have diapers in the right size. I cried.
SEIU 1199NE—the union representing nearly 5,700 nursing home workers across 51 facilities in Connecticut—is demanding a long-overdue investment in the caregiving workforce. The union is seeking to raise starting wages to $25 per hour, with increases over time to $30— wages that would offer basic stability to caregivers like the one I saw speak on the Green. These are not the workers we want stressed, sleep-deprived, and struggling in a constant state of scarcity. To meet the union’s demands, the state would need to invest an additional $275 million per year in Medicaid funding, roughly half of which would be reimbursed by the federal government.
Connecticut’s community nonprofits are requesting a $264 million increase for FY26. This funding would support a 6% cost-of-living adjustment for providers, a Medicaid rate increase, and the annualization of one-time coronavirus funding. Staffing shortages are impacting service delivery, with more than 80% of health and human services nonprofits struggling to recruit and retain staff due to uncompetitive wages. Two-thirds report having waiting lists stretching from weeks to months, and almost half have been forced to cut programs, reduce capacity, or turn away clients. More than 60% say they are operating at a deficit or with dangerously thin margins.
Senate President Martin Looney has introduced measures such as a “mansion tax,” which would impose a 1-mill tax on homes assessed over $1.5 million and a 2-mill tax on those over $2 million, potentially generating up to $660 million annually. Alongside Majority Leader Bob Duff, he also proposed raising the top two income tax brackets, which could generate another $420 million annually.
This year, the Finance, Revenue and Bonding Committee advanced a 1.75% capital gains surcharge on Connecticut’s wealthiest residents—projected to raise $284 million annually. Despite repeated introduction, none of these proposals have ever been included in the final budget package negotiated with Governor Lamont. This year is the year.
This is not about what lies in the state’s coffers. It’s about what lies in the heart of our governor —and the intentions of those around him who enable and celebrate his leadership. In a state so often described as being in permanent fiscal crisis, one would think the need for new revenue would be self-evident. And yet, time and again, revenue solutions are avoided —not because they don’t exist, but because they’re considered politically toxic.
A budget is a moral document. Show me your budget—and I’ll show you your values. Where are the morally courageous leaders who will say: I will generate revenue for this state from the right places —not by cutting funds for soap and sanitary products in nursing homes, but by asking for a few more cents on the dollar from those buying mansions, docking yachts, or taking helicopter rides from their back yards?
Connecticut’s crisis is no longer fiscal. It is moral. The Democratic governor of our state should address and combat extreme concentration of wealth, not embody and enable it, as he stewards our public services.
Justin Etheridge of New Haven is a civil servant who conducts criminal justice research for the state but writes in his capacity as a private citizen. His forthcoming book, To Tell the Truth, is a first-person narrative of American activism—from the gay rights movement to the movement to end gun violence.
Carol McDaniel is a dedicated and results-driven professional with 5 years of experience and US News. Known for her strong problem-solving skills and collaborative mindset, Carol has built a reputation for delivering high-impact results across diverse teams and projects.
Throughout her career, she has demonstrated expertise in 2 core skills or areas, e.g., client relations and project coordination, and is passionate about continuous learning and meaningful contribution. Carol thrives in dynamic environments and consistently brings professionalism, adaptability, and a focus on growth to every role she takes on.