April 28, 1976
Page 11521
MIRACLES AT THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE
Mr. MUSKIE. Mr. President, in the April 25 edition of the Maine Sunday Telegram, Don Larrabee wrote of a man from Maine, J. Paul Bolduc, who is performing miracles at the Department of Agriculture.
Disturbed by the amount of waste he saw in the Department's myriad forms and paperwork, Mr. Bolduc set out to do something about it. After only a few months' work, he has succeeded in eliminating 9,664 forms — 26 percent of the total number — and more than 700 reports — 16 percent of the total — at a savings of $16.2 million. And he is still not finished.
This is not the only miracle of Mr. Bolduc's career at Agriculture. I commend the entire article to my colleagues as an example of what business-as-usual in Government ought to be, and ask unanimous consent that it be printed in the RECORD.
There being no objection, the article was ordered to be printed in the RECORD, as follows:
BOLDUC CARVES MARK INTO BUREAUCRACY
(By Don Larrabee)
WASHINGTON.— A few months ago, J. Paul Bolduc of Lewiston decided that something had to be done about the excessive paperwork at the Agriculture Department. He advised Secretary Earl Butz that the number of forms could easily be reduced by 20 percent and the number of required reports by ten per cent.
The 36-year old Maine man knew he was upsetting the system but he had no choice. "When I see waste, it troubles me. I wasn't brought up in affluence," he says. Besides, he had won Secretary Butz' confidence with a couple of earlier miracles.
One was to consolidate the department's 28 computer operations (one for each agency) under a single roof. He also had developed a centralized, unified accounting system to replace the budgetary babel of 15 different systems that had jammed USDA's communications for years.
Butz didn't hesitate to give the go-ahead on the paperwork project. And, as Bolduc expected, "all hell broke loose." The bureaucrats instinctively resisted the changes. But Bolduc, who became the department's Assistant Secretary for Administration last month, was able to report last week that 9,664 forms (26 per cent) and more than 700 reports (16 per cent) had already been eliminated for an annual saving to the taxpayers of $16.2 million. The campaign still has a month to go.
Meantime, another Bolduc experiment was taking place. The department had been scouting all over town for more space to accommodate USDA's 28 sprawling agencies. Bolduc wondered if anyone had looked at waste space USDA had in its existing two buildings.
He took a walk one morning through seven and one-half miles of corridors in the two huge USDA structures bordering on Independence Avenue and found all the space that was needed. The remodeling of offices is now under way.
"I just happen to believe that you ought to realize the biggest bang for a buck," he says. "All too frequently, that doesn't happen in a bureaucracy."
J. P. Bolduc is not the only person in government who sees horrible waste, empire-building and inefficiency all around him. He and a group of partners at the subcabinet level — the men who try to manage the other big departments — meet regularly to share ideas about the seemingly losing battle in which they are engaged.
Bolduc has had 15 years to watch the empire builders at work in the Agriculture Department. Starting as an internal auditor and moving steadily up the career ladder, he was northeast regional director of USDA for audits before coming to Washington as deputy assistant secretary for administration two years ago.
His recent promotion involves overseeing the departmental budget of $15 billion annually and the fiscal and administrative nightmare of 350 programs, 15,000 field offices and all the personnel problems that go with having a work force of 100,000.
Superiors have recognized his skills with a number of cash awards. Associates say he is a man of "exceptional initiative and drive ... very aggressive, a motivator, a real dynamo." Bolduc says candidly that he's probably made a lot of enemies, too.
"We're asking every one of our agencies to submit a report on what they expect to get for the dollars they want to spend," he says. "We've identified several programs that ought to be discontinued because they are not cost-beneficial. In one sense, we're already testing Senator Muskie's proposal to force every agency to justify its existence and start from scratch."
Bolduc sees his principal role as one of supplying Secretary Butz with the facts and figures he needs when he goes to Congress. But he says it's been a disillusioning experience to watch Congress make decisions for their political impact, without regard to cost or sound judgment.
As an example, he cites the department's repeated recommendations to discontinue the 1930s Agriculture Conservation Program under which Uncle Sam pays up to $2,500 to any farmer who chooses to install a pond on his acreage or half the cost of liming or fertilizer.
"These are normal costs of doing business," he says. "Why should the government provide this help?"
At the moment, as the highest ranking career official is USDA, Bolduc finally has the clout to inject some of his philosophy into the top management of each of the 28 agricultural agencies.
He meets with these 28 deputies regularly and plans a major brainstorming session May 5 and 6 at a Pennsylvania farm retreat. They will go "away committed" or else, he says.
Bolduc pulls no punches about his own future. If he doesn't go to private industry, which is a constant temptation for a man with a growing family of four children, he might return to Maine in the next couple of years and seek the governorship.
"Yes, I'd like to run for governor," he says. "When I was northeast regional director for audits, I had a chance to interface with Maine state government and I saw first hand some of the antiquated ways of doing business.
"Maine's state auditor does nothing but audit the taxing districts; no one ever comes in to take a close look at how efficient or effective the programs are or what kind of mileage they're getting. No one assesses the long range impact."
Bolduc says he likes Governor Longley's businesslike approach and philosophy but he faults Longley's handling of men and politicians in the state. By coincidence, Bolduc has the same geographic base.
His mother, Blanche Bolduc, lives in Lewiston. His wife's father, Louis Talarico, was Lewiston's deputy fire chief and now operates Luigi's Pizzeria. The family spends the summer in Harpswell. But J. Paul Bolduc talks like a man who'd like to live in Maine all year round.