A Trial of Nelson Oliva

The city has to pick up the pieces following Oliva’s negotiated exit.

Nelson Oliva, the soon-to-be former city manager, will escape town with something that resembles a golden parachute. The City Council approved the termination of Oliva’s contract in closed session Dec. 21. It was agreed between both parties that his departure was without “good cause” for which his contract required a full year’s salary as compensation.

Examples of good cause–as described in his contract–include insubordination, dishonesty, embezzlement, and appearance of a conflict of interest. In other words, the city presumably had good cause to terminate Oliva’s contract under any of a litany of controversial items but chose not to. In fact, when the City Council dismissed interim City Manager Charles Long on Dec. 7, and reinstated Oliva amidst an orchestrated evening full of praise, it wiped out two avenues to terminate his contract in one fell swoop.

The reinstatement essentially negated Oliva’s past poor performance–including a significant and persistent appearance of a conflict of interest with his former company NEO Consulting–and cut short, by nine days, the possibility to enact another clause in his contract which would have allowed the city to terminate, even without cause, had Oliva failed to perform his duties for more than 60 consecutive days.

It is difficult to argue causation when the old council had awarded Oliva with the maximum bonus in 2009–20 percent of his then $200,000 salary (Oliva’s salary rose to $225,000 in 2010)–in gratitude of his service. In hindsight, 2009 was a trendsetting year for the city, but not in a good way.

On June 9, 2009, Oliva presented a construction budget of $56 million for the Sycamore North project to the council for approval within a lengthy consent calendar, which unsurprisingly came without discussion. It has since been revealed that the budget was $14 million less than what was actually anticipated–which was either negligent or purposefully destructive–and that the city had underfunded the project by $42 million, a crisis that now threatens the well-being of the redevelopment agency and all city projects.

Oliva had also promised progress and success on the waterfront project and the Intermodal Transit Center, but both continue to flail aimlessly and approach failure under his leadership.

Oliva’s tenure was not all a disappointment. As his supporters readily proclaim, Oliva oversaw the construction of a dog park and a community garden, helped cover the expenses at the city’s schools when the district made harsh program cuts, and expanded the city’s affordable housing department–be it for the financial benefit of his family.

And that is what is so perplexing about Oliva’s self-inflicted demise. His story is not unlike those told in Hollywood true-crime stories that document the rise and fall of individuals who take advantage of the system. Oliva leveraged a complacent electorate and a disinterested and disengaged council to perpetrate an ingenious scam out of city hall–funneling redevelopment monies through the affordable housing agency run by his company.

Just as if it were scripted however, Oliva continued to push the envelope–capped by the Sycamore North project, where he had finagled to include an inordinately-high affordable housing component (74 of 96 units)–and his empire ultimately came crashing down.

In the end, Oliva should be just as relieved as residents. He was never just the city manager. That was mostly a front, a pretense for his real position–executive of the company he never actually left when he took the high-paying job as city manager. NEO has its founder back, although it is safe to assume the company will be renamed before it approaches another city desperate for creative accounting and affordable housing solutions.