Much has been written about the unprecedented political polarization in Northampton — personal attacks online and at public meetings — the loudest focused on our school budget. On one side are passionate supporters of our schools, pushing for the “strongest” school funding. They argue that ample reserves and rainy day funds exist, and that the mayor and City Council are indifferent to teachers and children. A small number of them are loud voices on social media, launching often-personal attacks at those who disagree on budgeting policy, and dismissing calls for civility as conspiracies to silence dissent.

On the other side is a larger but quieter group who have looked more objectively at the fiscal realities facing Massachusetts cities and recognize that spending down reserves to dramatically increase school funding isn’t just inadvisable — it’s untenable. I am one of those people: a career progressive policy advocate, union supporter, parent of two children in Northampton public schools, and a staunch believer in robust public education.

Look 10 miles down Route 10, and you will find the clearest possible argument for our position. Easthampton is facing a $6.9 million Proposition 2½ override vote on June 9. This did not happen overnight. Officials say the budget gap grew gradually over several years as rising costs outpaced revenue growth and the city increasingly relied on reserve funds to avoid making cuts to services. Over just three fiscal years, Easthampton transferred nearly $7 million from reserve and stabilization accounts, including $4.5 million in the current fiscal year alone, into its operating budget. The reserves are now nearly gone.

The consequences of that choice are stark. If the override fails, the city would eliminate approximately 40 full-time positions, with most reductions coming from the school system, because that is the largest department in the city. For the average Easthampton homeowner, the $6.9 million override would mean roughly $1,200 more in property taxes every year. An override of more than $8 million would actually be needed to provide financial stability beyond three years, and that would still require conservative budgeting going forward. Easthampton’s mayor put it plainly: if the city had taken a more conservative approach — making modest adjustments each year rather than drawing down reserves — the deficit would not be this deep. “Doing those things in a more gradual way,” he said, “would have protected us from getting to this point.”

This is precisely what Northampton Mayor Gina-Louise Sciarra, the majority of the City Council, and many of us in the community have been saying for years — while listening to the schools’ passionate advocates: the city has increased its annual appropriation to Northampton Public Schools by 40% since FY23, using $5 million in Fiscal Stability Stabilization Fund reserves over three fiscal years to help close the gap between revenues and expenses. That is a remarkable and real investment in our schools. But it has also brought us closer to the same crossroads Easthampton now faces. The override that Northampton will almost certainly need in the next couple of years is coming regardless — but it can be a manageable one. Had the loudest voices prevailed and we spent down our reserves more aggressively, we would be looking at a crisis like Easthampton’s, or worse.

Northampton is not immune: of the 351 municipalities in Massachusetts, 57 have proposed overrides just this year. And across the state, override requests have surged five to six fold compared to the previous decade — with communities requesting $120 million in new levy authority for FY2026 alone, of which only $57 million was approved by voters. Nearly half of communities that went to their voters were turned down. The pain in those communities that failed — and then had no reserves left either — is not hard to imagine.

I have little hope that the most strident voices in Northampton’s budget wars will absorb this lesson. They seem to be blindly wed to their positions, unmoved by evidence, and energized by grievance. But I do have hope for the many good-faith residents who have been swayed by their passion. The story unfolding in Easthampton is not abstract or theoretical. It is a real city, with real teachers and librarians and firefighters facing real job losses, brought there by exactly the fiscal path that a vocal minority has been demanding Northampton follow. We are watching the cautionary tale play out in real time, right next door. Let’s make sure we’re taking notes.

Josh Silver lives in Florence.