Tax-loving ex-Gov Tom Kean endorses Republican gubernatorial hopeful Jack Ciattarelli

Former Governor Thomas Kean, the revered Republican patriarch who has long stood above the fray, descended to anoint gubernatorial candidate Jack Ciattarelli, describing him as a compassionate and decent leader and declaring the state needs a change.

But this endorsement, swiftly embraced by Ciattarelli, forces a reckoning not with a legacy of austerity, but with a record of tax increases and the dark, unresolved specters of a razor-thin election victory four decades ago.

In a social media post, Ciattarelli praised Kean for setting the standard for effective leadership, a curated tribute that conveniently omits the fiscal reality of the Kean era.

The former governor’s signature, often applied with great ceremony, was also the one that famously signed a major tax increase while, as historical records show, literally holding his nose.

This 1982 legislation, a compromise with a Democratic-controlled legislature, raised the top state income tax rate from 2.5% to 3.5% and increased the state sales tax from 5% to 6%.

Earlier that same year, Kean had also proposed a two-cent increase in the gasoline tax, demonstrating a pattern of turning to taxpayers to balance the state’s books.

Beyond the broad-based tax hikes, Kean’s legacy is permanently welded to the machinery of state debt through his creation of the Transportation Trust Fund.

Conceived as a stable funding source for roads and transit, the fund has morphed into a multi-generational anchor of financial obligation. It allowed the state to borrow billions, converting revenue dedicated for transportation into interest payments for Wall Street.

Today, that legacy is a staggering $20.5 billion in outstanding bonds, with a total debt service obligation projected to reach $32.5 billion—a financial burden borne by today’s taxpayers for the decisions of a past generation.

Yet, the fiscal record is only part of the story that Ciattarelli now inherits. Kean’s political ascent to the governorship began with the closest election in modern New Jersey history, a 1,797-vote victory over Democrat James Florio in 1981.

That campaign, however, was marred by tactics that strayed far from the decent leadership now advertised. It was a race notorious for the use of racial intimidation, a raw and divisive strategy employed to secure a win by a fractional margin.

Furthermore, Kean’s political operations were shadowed by his deal with Hudson County Assemblyman David Friedlander, a figure later convicted on federal charges of fraud and for his association with organized crime figures, as detailed in a subsequent FBI press release.

For a candidate like Ciattarelli, who seeks to rally a base around fiscal conservatism and ethical clarity, the embrace of Kean’s support is a high-stakes gamble.

It tethers him to a Republican icon who indeed raised taxes and created a monumental debt vehicle, while also forcing him to account for the unsavory political realities that forged that icon’s path to power.

As New Jersey voters look for a change, they are now prompted to examine what exactly they are being asked to change back to.