Tuesday was a good day for incumbents. It was not a particularly good day for democracy.

Election Day. Not that anyone noticed. In Boston, less than 9 percent of the city's residents voted. That's about the same number of people Whitey Bulger and his gang have buried in unmarked graves in Dorchester. Statewide was even worse, with just 8 percent voting. It was, the secretary of state tells us, the lowest turnout ever.

I was in Fenway Park June 19 when the Red Sox lost 22-1. As the Yankees piled up run after run, a perverse thrill swept through the crowd. Having given up on any prospect of a win, we stayed, eager to see if a record could be broken.

I had the same sick feeling about this week's elections. I saw history being made.

I showed up at the polls at 2 p.m. In a precinct that normally draws 500 voters, just seven - seven - had voted. Four people were staffing the tables, including one Boston cop who, presumably, was there to defend the voting booths from evildoers looking to fix the results (``Stop! Hands off that curtain or I'll shoot!'').

Except that there were no results to fix. Nine races, from U.S. senator to governor's councilor, and all of them were unchallenged. Citizens of the former USSR had more choice.

Indeed, in the entire city of Boston, there were literally only four races with more than one name on the ballot. State Rep. Shirley Owens Hicks, state Sen. Dianne Wilkerson and Governor's Councilor Kelly Timilty all faced challengers. Each of them crushed her opponent.

In the only nail-biter, about 400 Republicans turned out to select the sacrificial lamb that will run in November against East Boston Sen. Robert Travaglini.

Who won? Who cares?

Election night I was a guest on a cable show reporting the results of the elections. We searched desperately for something to talk about. The presidential debates. Judge Maria Lopez. The weather.

Eventually, even though it was a Boston show reaching only a Boston audience, we talked about Brookline, where there was, I kid you not, a real race! Incumbent state Rep. Ronny Sydney lost to challenger Frank Smizik in what was essentially a grudge match because Sydney two years ago beat Smizik's buddy, long-time state Rep. John Businger.

The big issue in the race was House Speaker Tom Finneran. Turns out Sydney passed Finneran in the hall one day and said something pleasant to him. In Brookline, this is a despicable thing, the moral equivalent of Miami's take on Bill Clinton shaking Fidel Castro's hand after sending Elian back to Cuba.

Professional pundits will undoubtedly scratch their heads at length over this election. What did it all mean?

Sure, voter turnout has been declining over the years, but this precipitous of a drop is something different. Have we given up on democracy? Is the electorate so alienated by scandals, slimy fund-raising and inside dealings that it can't any longer be bothered?

Even more interestingly, why are so few people running?

There are a lot of possible reasons. The intense scrutiny politicians receive makes the job unappealing to many. Now that we've made kickbacks and graft illegal, the money's not particularly good either. A state representative makes $46,410. That's not particularly exciting to kids who, first year out of law school or business school, are making $100,000.

Moreover, challengers have a tough time raising money. The Clean Elections Law was designed to correct this problem, which is, of course, the reason incumbent politicians are doing anything they can to prevent the law from coming into effect.

The job isn't what it once was, either. It used to be that state and local politicians carried real weight. Now, power is increasingly held in the hands of just a few. The House speaker, the Senate president and the mayor have near dictatorial powers, all of which comes at the expense of your everyday representatives, senators and city councilors.

Or perhaps politics simply doesn't matter as much. In many ways, the great ideological clashes of the past have been settled. This is particularly true when it comes to economics. In Massachusetts, at least, it is also the case when it comes to most social issues.

Conversely, young people in particular are discovering that it is possible to be a civic leader without being a politician. Indeed, it often seems that working within the private sector offers more of an opportunity to change the world - and get well paid while doing it. Consider: work in the private sector and help create the information highway. Work in government and help fill potholes. Which of those streets would you rather be on?

Perhaps, however, none of these highfalutin' reasons is true. I asked one unchallenged state politician why he thought no one was running against him.

`Easy,'' he said. ``I'm a great state rep.''

Maybe that's the case across the commonwealth. Maybe, to paraphrase Voltaire, this really is the best of all possible worlds and we have the best of all possible politicians.

Tom Keane writes every Friday for the Herald. He can be reached at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.