Why no one wants to be a pol today

15 June 2001

 

 

The commonwealth's last two governors have fled for other states or other lands. Massachusetts' most prominent political family, the Kennedys, has now taken a pass on both the governor's office and on the late Joe Moakley's congressional seat.

 

And in Boston, where grizzled political know-it-alls call politics a "contact sport," this year's city races look less like a sport and more like a game of solitaire. In fact, so few candidates are running that it now appears Boston's Sept. 25 preliminary election - which is used to narrow down a large field - won't have to be held at all.

 

The mayor's race, of course, has merely two candidates: incumbent Thomas Menino and at-large City Councilor Peggy Davis-Mullen. But it's at the City Council level, a world of classic retail politics, where the paucity of candidates is most striking.

 

Eight incumbent district councilors are seeking re-election. Six of them look as if they will face no challenger whatsoever. Just two - Dorchester's Maureen Feeney and South Boston's James Kelly - are expecting a race, each against just one challenger.

 

One district seat is open. Its current occupant, Maura Hennigan, has held the seat for 20 years and this year is running for an at- large seat.

 

Observers had figured that Hennigan's open seat would attract a sizable field of candidates. Indeed, some had thought that the district, which includes Jamaica Plain and West Roxbury, was an ideal spot for a minority candidate.

 

Wrong. Only two candidates have put forth their names, both of them having previously run against Hennigan. Neither is a minority: proof, perhaps, that while Boston's demographics may be changing quickly, its politics are slow to follow.

 

But it is Boston's at-large council seats that have usually attracted the most candidates. It used to be that upwards of 15 people would vie for the four slots. This year? Six.

 

And that poor showing is particularly surprising because, with Davis-Mullen challenging Menino, one seat is open. That's a circumstance that usually draws hordes, but so far the only new entrants are Hennigan, Robert Consalvo, an aide to state Rep. Angelo Scaccia, and Felix Arroyo, a former member of the School Committee.

 

That's it. Thirteen City Council seats and a grand total of 18 candidates. If the lottery had odds like these, we'd all be millionaires.

 

What's going on?

 

Incumbent city councilors would have you believe, of course, that they are doing such an excellent job that no one could conceive of challenging them. That Panglossian view of the world doesn't square with the city's history of political engagement, however. In Boston, it used to be that someone always was willing to run. Today, that's apparently not the case.

 

Talk to city councilors and they are, privately, not particularly complimentary of their jobs. It's a lot of work for not a lot of glory. Moreover, the position itself is institutionally weak. Boston's strong mayor/weak council system of government means that the mayor dominates and councilors have to be content with chipping around the edges.

 

That's not to say they all want to leave the job, however (although right now four are floating their names as potential replacements for departing District Attorney Ralph Martin). Getting elected to another term as a city councilor is kind of like growing old: It's better than the alternative.

 

Still, local politics has changed. Some councilors speak wistfully of years past, when they were regarded with high levels of respect. The time was that local politics dominated the daily news. That's not true today. And while citywide councilors used to be household names, now they are almost obscure - a fact demonstrated by the Herald's recent poll of the 9th District congressional race where at-large Councilor Steve Murphy drew barely 1 percent.

 

But there's something larger at play as well. Politics once was a calling. If you wanted to do good, if you wanted to change the world, you ran for office.

 

Now elective office seems an increasingly ugly pursuit. Local politicians are belittled. When their names do appear in print, it's often only in the gossip columns.

 

Moreover, there are other ways to make one's mark on the world. For some it's work in the nonprofit world. For others, it's in business, which, despite today's economic downturn, still has an allure. And it's an allure that is about more than money; it's a sense that creating a company can change people's lives as surely as can passing a piece of legislation.

 

Without a doubt, the glory jobs in politics - Congress, governor and Senate - will always have candidates eager for the position. But the prospects for Boston's elections this year make one wonder whether local democracy - the hands-on kind of politics that can sometimes affect people the most profoundly -is at risk of withering away.