The days are not yet cool but a few leaves have dropped, hinting at the yard work to come, and fall sports are in full swing: football, soccer, volleyball, lacrosse — and politics.

Maybe you don’t think of politics as a game where you live, but in Illinois (and especially in Chicago) it’s our favorite spectator sport. This year’s playoffs have not disappointed, and the remaining weeks promise some serious smash-mouth campaigning.

I don’t mean to dis my Downstate brothers and sisters, but it’s The Chicago Way: You do whatcha gotta do to get done whatcha wanna get done, as legally as possible.

I’m seeing The Chicago Way put to use in other parts of the country more often these days, most recently in Sioux Falls, S.D. Let me explain:

Stories about The Chicago Way are legion; my personal favorite was the morning we woke up in March 2003 to find that then-Mayor Richard M. Daley had, overnight, ordered the city’s bulldozers to tear up the runways at Meigs Field. This small lakefront airport blocks from downtown was a favorite of those who travel by private aircraft, like CEOs and politicians.

Da Mayor, however, had more populist ideas for the narrow jut of land, called Northerly Island. He wanted to make it a park, like most of the rest of the city’s lakefront. He’d been trying to close the airport for almost a decade, but the CEOs and politicians were opposed. So, he did it The Chicago Way.

Rules were broken: The city ultimately paid the Federal Aviation Administration a fine of $33,000, the maximum at the time for closing an airport with a charted instrument approach without giving the required 30-day notice. (The FAA subsequently boosted the fine 10-fold.) The city also repaid $1 million in federal funds used to tear down the rest of the airport and build Northerly Island Park, which now is nature trails, a sculpture garden and a concert venue.

But nobody was indicted and lawsuits filed over the incident were eventually dropped.

Maybe it’s the bump in federal and state funds being directed toward the meat supply chain. Maybe it’s unexpected opportunities to build businesses in the post-pandemic economy. For some reason, I see The Chicago Way being adopted more often, in unexpected places.

Like Sioux Falls.

That the $500 million Wholestone pork packing plant proposal in that city ran into opposition surprised no one, and the opposition has been formidable: It forced the proposal to a vote of the people in the upcoming election. Frankly, I expected the conflict to follow one of the scripts we’ve seen in the past. The company would pick up its ball and find a friendlier playing field elsewhere (see also: Tyson and Tonganoxie, Kan., Sanderson Farms and Nash County, N.C.). Or it would play the long game, and communicate and explain until they’d overcome most of the objections and could build where it wants (see: Lincoln Premium Poultry in Fremont, Neb.).

But Wholestone took The Chicago Way. Before the initiative could be put to a vote, they began building a small “custom” pork plant on the land inside the Sioux Falls city limits where the company would like to build its large facility. This plant is expected to be operating in a few weeks.

The goal apparently is to take advantage of a legal loophole that would allow the company to “expand” its operations at the same location where an existing operation stands. Wholestone starts operating a plant — even one that’s existed only a few weeks — and they stand a good chance to sidestep the voter initiative altogether, regardless of the outcome.

Illegal? Nope. Unethical? Let’s just say it’s efficient. Effective. And pure Chicago.

The Wholestone deal is far from done; only a lawyer could count up the number of ways that this issue could be litigated, if enough money were available to invest in the effort.

Meanwhile, this Chicagoan — merely a spectator to a favorite fall sport — offers a tip of her hat to the ploy; game recognizes game.

The Chicago Way

Join for free* to continue reading.