The Annapolis water treatment plant is crumbling. The city’s Market House, once the pride of downtown, awaits revamping after years of mismanagement. An energized citizens’ group wants to create a council-manager form of government that would reduce the mayor’s clout. On top of all this, the city is broke, refinancing its debt to make ends meet. So why would anyone want the job of mayor, especially a bright young guy like Josh Cohen?

“Despite the bad wrap politicians get, I believe politics is a noble calling,” says Cohen. “I have enough of an ego to believe that I have something to contribute and confidence in my ability to make a difference. I have an opportunity to effect a positive change—or to crash and burn.”

Just one year into his term as Annapolis’ 126th mayor, the jury is still out. Despite dealing with the worst snow storms in history, passing a balanced budget without raising property taxes, creating the Annapolis Economic Development Corp. to attract and expand business, and making progress toward securing a long-term solution to the Market House, his short time in office has not been without controversy.

“I came into office during a difficult time,” he says. “When times are tough and there’s not the money to do some of the initiatives I’ve promised, every issue is a battle. Anytime there is a new sheriff in town trying to assert himself, there is inevitable tension.”

At 37, this lifelong Annapolitan is driven, a tad cocky, and plays a mean saxophone. He’s more handsome—think a shorter JFK Jr.-type with glasses—and more personable face-to-face than he appears on his weekly YouTube address where he comes off as stiff. Trim and athletic, he jogs three times a week in his West Annapolis neighborhood where he lives with his wife, Lesley, a registered nurse, and their two daughters. A Key School graduate, he briefly attended St. John’s College at the New Mexico campus but got his bachelor’s degree in economics from the University of Maryland, College Park. Before taking over as mayor, he spent eight years working in the criminal justice field as a Maryland parole and probation agent and director of special grants for the Maryland Crime Victims’ Resource Center.

If likeability were the sole job requirement, Cohen would have it aced. Even critics agree that he is funny, forthright, and well-intentioned. “I like the guy’s spirit,” says Frederick Paone, the city’s lone Republican alderman. “Even though we disagree on some things, he has a good grasp of issues. I’ve never seen him lose his cool.”

Alderwoman Classie Hoyle says, “When we disagree, we talk about it, then we shake hands or hug. That’s a good thing. He doesn’t lose his temper or fly off the handle—quite different from our former mayor [Ellen Moyer]. And he listens.”

This trait is obvious during a recent council meeting when Cohen gives the same level of attention to a request for a proclamation from a homeless war veteran dressed in camouflage to probing questions about the Market House from savvy Council-woman Sheila Finlayson, with whom he often spars. “Sometimes he doesn’t always consult with the council and makes decisions as if he is totally autonomous,” Finlayson says. “We each have a voice in the city, a voice that we’d like to be heard. After he is called on it, he does come to us, but we would appreciate it if he would keep us in the loop.”

In his rare spare time—13-hour days are not unusual and weekends are reserved for the family—Cohen enjoys a good read. “The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon” by David Grann is a recent favorite. Perhaps Cohen feels a connection to the story of an explorer who ventured into uncharted territory with little more than a machete, a compass, and a passionate sense of purpose. 

Cohen wasn’t the city’s first choice for mayor. He became the Democratic nominee only when Zina Pierre, the first black woman to receive the nomination withdrew from the race due to personal financial issues. (Pierre declined to be interviewed for this story.)

Cohen was elected to the city council when he was 28, and later to the county council, but he didn’tfinish his term in order to run for mayor, a fact that draws criticism—and it’s not something he is particularly proud of. “I knew people would beat me up about this, but when I saw the shape the city was in, and the people who were lining up to run, this may sound ridiculously cocky, but I felt I had to run.” While Cohen candidly admits to being open to future political opportunities, he relishes his current role. “I will finish out this term as mayor.”

The idea of a young, ambitious mayor with future political aspirations doesn’t sit well with some area residents. “He’s a political animal. Each decision is made with an eye on the next rung on the political ladder,” says Trudy McFall, a mayoral candidate who lost to Cohen in the primary. “His strong suit is his ability to stay calm in the face of anything. It’s an extraordinary skill, especially for someone his age. He’s good at maneuvering behind the scenes while maintaining his choir- boy persona.”

During Cohen’s first year, perhaps nothing in his administration caused as much of an uproar as the firing of 33 employees in March. Cohen admits that he failed to appreciate the magnitude of the budget crisis. “I thought that by controlling overtime and reducing spending we’d be able to avoid layoffs, but it became clear we had to lay off employees.”

He was chided by a few aldermen for not exploring other alternatives. “My request was to look at every other option first,” says Finlayson. “Some employees were handled rudely. They were approached that Friday morning and told they had to vacate their desks. We have low morale in the city. We have to rely on people to provide good service in the community. We are destroying that atmosphere. We’re paying now for some of their firings. Some people are suing the city.”

Cohen says that he had to act quickly. “We didn’t have the luxury of time. Every day we failed to take action, we created a bigger deficit.”

If he had to do it over again, he says he would have communicated more effectively, both with the council and employee unions. “Even though I don’t believe it would have changed the outcome, the need to lay off employees is such a fundamental reversal of the city’s culture that it left a bad taste in a lot of people’s mouths.”

He says he avoided raising property taxes and cut the budget by 13 percent, the biggest cut of Maryland’s 147 municipalities. “In 45 years the Annapolis budget was reduced no more than 2.5 percent three or four times so this reduction is pretty dramatic,” says Cohen.

But critics say he hasn’t cut enough. Bill Kardash, chairman of Annapolitans for a Better Community, says the city’s budget is based on “hypothetical sources of income,” projected savings that may or may not materialize, and that with 700 city employees, the payroll is bloated. He says Annapolis has 18 departments while larger cities such as Rockville, Gaithersburg, and Bowie have eight or fewer. Kardash says that 85 percent of Annapolis’ city budget is personnel and personnel benefits. “If he took the medicine and laid off 50 or 60 people when he came into office, he would have made a huge impact. We have three arborists. I’m worried about the trees, too, but maybe this is something we could contract out,” says Kardash.

Local blogger and Capital contributor Paul Foer describes the mayor’s handling of the budget as “Cohenspeak,” where bad news is slapped with a smile. “I think he feels that it is more important to reward people than get things done,” says Foer. “He is doing nothing to cut an overspending bureaucracy. Everything comes down to politics instead of governing.” 

But Cohen claims the payroll isn’t bloated, pointing out the nearly 80 positions he eliminated in this year’s budget. (A combination of early retirements, eliminated positions and the 33 layoffs.) According to Cohen, comparing Annapolis to larger towns isn’t fair. You have to compare the services, he says. Do they have full-service fire, police, and public works departments? “We may be comparable in population, but we have a tremendous demand on services both in terms of our physical infrastructure, as well as law enforcement and public safety, because we have over a million visitors a year.”

Cohen says his challenge is to forge a steady path without being pulled too far to one extreme or the other. “One side says I cut too much, I should have raised taxes instead. The other side says I didn’t cut enough. Passions are high on both sides; it’s hard to carve out a middle ground.”

Kardash is the primary force behind a movement to create a council-manager form of city government. Currently, the city manager reports to the mayor. In a council-manager system, he would report to the nine-member city council.

Cohen opposes this direction. “There are small towns that have part-time mayors and the citizens turn the keys over to a full-time professional manager. That’s not Annapolis. Our residents and business persons want to call City Hall and know the mayor is in charge. There is never a guarantee that we’re going to elect a good mayor, but at least when the buck stops here, the mayor is accountable. If you make the nine-member council responsible for the city manager and have him report not to the mayor but to all nine council members, you lose that accountability. The reins of government would be in the hands of a non-elected official who would report to nine bosses, each with a competing agenda. It would be a recipe for political gridlock.”

But Kardash claims that inaction has been a hallmark of Cohen’s administration thus far. “Analysis paralysis,” says Kardash when describing Cohen’s management style. He says Cohen creates too many committees and studies everything to death. Decisions don’t happen.

“That is in the eye of the beholder,” counters Cohen. “There are some people who think I’m rushing decisions. It really is a judgment call.”

Perhaps his management style is best reflected in his approach to the redevelopment of the city’s beloved Market House. “What I’ve found is that the key to successful politics is to understand when the right time is to put on the brakes and when the right time is to press the gas pedal,” he says. “I believe in taking the time on the front end to make sure there is a lot of thought put into something that is as multi-faceted as the Market House, to make sure the people are heard and that we have the right guiding principles. But once it gets to a certain point where we’ve talked about it enough, then we need to move forward deliberately.”

Cohen says the Market House—and the economic development of the entire Historic District—is one of the biggest challenges facing Annapolis. Main Street and Maryland Avenue are dotted with empty stores owing to high rents and the recession, and the new Annapolis Towne Centre has taken its toll. “Downtown should be a vibrant destination for locals primarily. If you make it work for locals, the tourists will come,” he says. Cohen wants to attract unique retailers—not chain stores—with an emphasis on quality and personal customer service.

Right now big plans are in place. If all goes as planned, downtown’s Market House will be revamped and open by spring. For decades city officials have talked about reinventing the entire City Dock; Cohen is taking action. He has created an advisory committee to make recommendations for redesigning the entire space, giving the public greater exposure to the waterfront by turning the existing parking lot into a public pavilion and adding underground parking. The ideal redevelopment would put an emphasis on recreation and shopping, and create a City Dock that brings locals and visitors back again and again. “I envision a waterfront that’s a true public space as opposed to a place just to park cars,” says Cohen.

Agree with his policies or not, nobody questions Cohen’s passion to make Annapolis a better place. The question is, what can he accomplish in this economically challenging time? Will additional layoffs be necessary? Will there be continued gridlock on a plan for downtown?

As he told an audience during his December 2009 inauguration: “This is our moment. This is our opportunity to be what we never thought we would be. It’s up to us.” Which is maybe the reason why a bright young guy like Josh Cohen would want the job in the first place.

Mary Ann Treger blogs the Annapolis Insider.