14 California Lawmakers Collect Two Government Paychecks Monthly

You pile one check on top of another
A taxpayer advocate describes how fourteen California lawmakers collect both legislative salaries and government pensions simultaneously.

In California's capital, fourteen state legislators draw both a legislative salary and a public pension earned from prior careers in law enforcement, education, or local government — a legal arrangement that nonetheless illuminates a deeper tension between honoring individual commitments and sustaining collective systems. The state's pension funds carry unfunded liabilities that some researchers place as high as $247 billion, and the officials tasked with addressing that crisis are among those benefiting from its architecture. It is an old human story: the rules we inherit shape the choices we make, and the choices we make reveal the rules we have yet to change.

  • Fourteen California lawmakers collect both a $107,242 legislative salary and a separate government pension, with one assemblyman taking home a combined $281,000 annually before expenses.
  • CalPERS faces unfunded liabilities estimated between $140 billion and $247 billion, and municipal leaders are warning that pension costs are becoming structurally unsustainable.
  • Critics argue that stacking public paychecks is invisible to most taxpayers and fundamentally at odds with the spirit of public service, while defenders insist these pensions were earned through decades of sacrifice.
  • Taxpayer advocates are pushing for Social Security-style rules that would suspend pension payments for any public employee still drawing a government salary above a basic threshold.
  • Pension policy experts acknowledge the practice is wrong but warn that those who benefit from the current system will resist reform fiercely, making meaningful legislative change deeply uncertain.

California's state legislators earn $107,242 a year to serve in Sacramento, but fourteen of them also collect monthly pension checks from prior careers in law enforcement, education, or local government. Critics call it "double dipping," and the practice has become a focal point in a broader fiscal crisis: the state's public pension systems carry unfunded liabilities estimated between $140 billion and $247 billion.

The contrasts are striking. Voters eliminated legislators' own pension benefits in 1990, yet those same lawmakers remain entitled to pensions earned before they arrived in Sacramento. Assemblyman Jim Cooper retired from the Sacramento County Sheriff's Department at 50 after thirty years of service and now collects $173,820 in annual pension payments alongside his legislative salary — a combined $281,000. Assemblyman Tom Daly retired from his county clerk-recorder post just weeks after winning his Assembly seat, securing an $85,000 yearly pension to supplement his legislative pay.

Those collecting dual paychecks argue they earned every dollar. "After working two decades for the county, I earned a pension," Daly said. "A person receiving an earned pension should not have to surrender that benefit simply because the taxpayers elect them to state legislative office." Senator John Moorlach, who draws $83,827 annually from his years as Orange County treasurer, said the retirement income made it financially possible for him to run for the Legislature at all.

Taxpayer advocates see the arrangement differently. "The public never envisioned that kind of thing can be done, where you pile one check on top of another," said Jack Dean of California Pension Reform. A League of California Cities study warned that municipal pension costs are rising sharply and becoming unsustainable, a concern that deepens when the officials responsible for reform are among those drawing from the same system.

Stanford professor and former assemblyman Joe Nation, whose California Pension Tracker places the state's uncovered pension debt at $247 billion, offered a measured view: double dipping is "wrong," he said, but it is a symptom of a system designed to permit it. He noted that the practice affects only a small fraction of pension recipients and that contribution rates, investment returns, and demographics are larger drivers of fund stress — but he called reform "absolutely essential if we want the systems to survive."

Proposed fixes include suspending pension payments for any public employee still earning above a modest threshold, mirroring Social Security's approach. Yet Nation cautioned that those who benefit from current rules will fight hard to protect them. The fourteen lawmakers collecting dual paychecks — ranging from a $5,239 annual pension to $173,820 — represent a small slice of California's public workforce, but they sit at the center of a question the state has not yet resolved: how to keep faith with earned benefits while preventing the systems that fund them from collapsing.

California's state legislators earn $107,242 a year to do their job in Sacramento. But fourteen of them are collecting a second government paycheck every month—retirement pensions from careers in local government, law enforcement, education, or the military. The practice, which critics call "double dipping," has become a flashpoint in a larger crisis: the state's public pension systems are hemorrhaging money, with unfunded liabilities estimated between $140 billion and $247 billion, and no clear path to solvency.

The tension is stark. Voters stripped legislators of their own pension benefits back in 1990, imposing term limits and eliminating the retirement security that had once come with the job. Yet those same legislators, having worked elsewhere in the public sector before arriving in Sacramento, are entitled to collect pensions earned through prior service. Some retired remarkably young. Assemblyman Jim Cooper, a Democrat from Elk Grove, left the Sacramento County Sheriff's Department at 50 after thirty years in law enforcement, and now collects $173,820 annually in pension payments on top of his legislative salary—a combined take-home of $281,000 before per diem. Assemblyman Tom Daly, a Democrat from Anaheim, retired at 58 from his job as Orange County's clerk-recorder just weeks after winning his Assembly seat, securing an $85,000 annual pension that supplements his legislative pay.

Those defending the arrangement argue they earned these benefits through decades of service and sacrifice. Daly put it plainly: "After working two decades for the county, I earned a pension. A person receiving an earned pension should not have to surrender that benefit simply because the taxpayers in their community elect them to state legislative office." Senator John Moorlach, a Republican from Costa Mesa, echoed the sentiment. He draws $83,827 yearly from his nineteen years as Orange County treasurer and supervisor, and he suggested he might never have run for the Legislature without that financial cushion. "I don't think I would have come up here if I didn't have the benefit of the retirement check," he said.

But taxpayer advocates see something different: a system that permits public officials to stack government paychecks in ways ordinary workers cannot. Jack Dean, vice president of California Pension Reform, framed the problem simply: "The public never envisioned that kind of thing can be done, where you pile one check on top of another." The concern is not merely about fairness. A study released by the League of California Cities warned that municipal pension costs are rising sharply and becoming "unsustainable." CalPERS, the state's largest pension fund, estimates its unfunded liabilities at $140 billion, though some researchers place the figure much higher—former Assemblyman Joe Nation's California Pension Tracker calculates the uncovered debt at $247 billion.

Law enforcement officers have particular latitude. Unions have successfully negotiated early retirement ages—sometimes as young as 50—citing the physical and mental toll of the work. Cooper defended the practice: "Public safety careers are inherently higher intensity and risk than other professions, and employees often start their careers earlier than others, subsequently earning retirement earlier." He also pushed back on the notion that early retirement is the primary driver of pension system insolvency. "I do not believe that early retirement is the leading cause of the unsustainability of our state pension system," he said. "Individuals that work 25 to 30 years in any profession regardless of their age deserve the dignity to retire."

Nation, now a Stanford professor studying pension policy, offered a more nuanced view. He acknowledged that double dipping is "wrong," but he argued the real problem runs deeper: "We've created a retirement system that permits and perhaps promotes it, so we should not be surprised that people take advantage of it." He estimated that double dipping affects only a small fraction of all public pension recipients, and he pointed to other factors—contribution rates, investment returns, demographic shifts—as more significant drivers of pension fund stress. Still, he said, meaningful reform is "absolutely essential if we want the systems to survive."

Taxpayer activists have proposed borrowing from Social Security's playbook: reduce or suspend pension payments for anyone still employed and earning above a modest threshold. Dean put it plainly: "There should be some change made that says as long as you are employed, you have a job, maybe it's as a state legislator, you don't collect your pension, you wait until you are at retirement age like the rest of us when we get Social Security." But Nation warned that those benefiting from the current system will fight hard to preserve it, making legislative change "very difficult." The fourteen lawmakers collecting dual paychecks—ranging from Assemblyman Richard Bloom's modest $5,239 annual pension to Assemblyman Jim Cooper's $173,820—represent only a sliver of California's public workforce. Yet they embody a larger question the state has yet to answer: how to honor earned benefits while ensuring the pension systems themselves don't collapse under the weight of promises made.

The public never envisioned that kind of thing can be done, where you pile one check on top of another.
— Jack Dean, vice president of California Pension Reform
We've created a retirement system that permits and perhaps promotes it, so we should not be surprised that people take advantage of it.
— Joe Nation, Stanford professor and pension policy researcher
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Inventor

Why does this matter now, in 2018? These are just fourteen people out of hundreds of legislators.

Model

Because the math is breaking. The pension systems are underfunded by somewhere between $140 billion and $247 billion. Every dollar that goes out is a dollar the system doesn't have. When you're in crisis mode, even small leaks look different.

Inventor

But these lawmakers earned their pensions, didn't they? They worked in government for decades.

Model

They did. That's what makes it complicated. No one's arguing they didn't earn the money. The question is whether you can ethically collect two government paychecks at the same time while the system is drowning.

Inventor

What would happen if you stopped it?

Model

You'd save some money, but not enough to fix the core problem. The real issue is that the systems made promises they can't keep—to too many people, for too long, with returns that didn't materialize. Double dipping is a symptom, not the disease.

Inventor

So why are people so angry about it?

Model

Because most Americans can't do this. You can't retire from one job and immediately collect that pension while working another full-time job. It feels like a privilege carved out for people with power. And when the system is failing, privilege looks like theft.

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