It's springtime in an odd-numbered year, a time when Bostonians' thoughts once would turn not to love but to politics.

No more. And particularly not this year. For 2003 is shaping up to be the worst year for politics in the city's history.

Put simply, almost no one plans to run for City Council. Of the nine district seats, it appears only one incumbent - Charles Yancey - will face a serious challenger. And right now there are, just maybe, five candidates running for the four available at-large seats: the four incumbents and - still undecided - Greg Timilty (a candidate in 1999 and the son of former state Sen. Joseph Timilty).

This marks a sharp change from the past. For most of the 20th century, huge numbers would vie for the City Council and the School Committee (which was an elected body until 1991). And that continued to persist even in the 1990s.

For example, 14 ran for the four available at-large positions in 1991; 18 in 1993; 15 in 1995.

And then the supply of candidates seemed to dry up. Just nine candidates submitted signatures in 1997; 10 ran in 1999.

Last time around, in 2001, only seven ran. The city didn't even have to hold a September preliminary election for at-large councilor (preliminaries are needed if there are more than eight candidates).

At least that year there was a preliminary election for mayor, as well as preliminaries in two district races.

This year, it looks like there will be no September election at all.

And why the drop in candidates? One thing's for sure: It's not the money.

In 1965, a councilor drew a salary of $7,500.

Today, the job pays a cool $75,000. City councilors are better paid than state reps or senators. They make more than 80 percent of all Americans. And it's not heavy lifting.

Meetings are just once a week. No one punches a clock; no one checks to see whether you're in the office or, as they say when the councilor is sleeping late or off playing golf somewhere, ``in the district.''

On the other hand, it's not a job if you care about big public policy issues. Councilors mostly wrangle over getting a bigger piece of the pie for their constituents.

It's a daily parade of liquor licenses, potholes, zoning variances, broken street lamps and hopeful job seekers. And the nights can be long.

Councilors are expected to show up for every community event, where they smile while getting harangued.

Still, we're in a recession and there are a lot of unemployed people out there. Doesn't anyone want this job?

Apparently not.

Should we care? There are, of course, the usual platitudes about the importance of voting and democracy and all that. But no one except political scientists really gives a fig about them.

Yet there is one serious concern. The population of Boston is changing; over half of its population is now non-white. Yet the council - the most local of all political bodies, one you would think is most closely representative of Boston's neighborhoods - is not.

Of its 13 members, 10 are white, only two are women.

Boston's politics were once driven by its Irish and Italian immigrants. Those groups saw local elected office as a way to break into the mainstream of American society.

And guess what? It worked.

Many councilors point to that very success - the fact that white ethnic groups have become part of the middle class - as the reason for this year's dearth of candidates.

They no longer need politics to make good in America.

Of course, there are newer ethnic groups out there.

There are Latinos, Vietnamese, Haitians and Brazilians. One would think these ethnic groups could also take the same route.

Yet, for reasons unknown, that so far hasn't happened.

Instead, the council is dominated by a group of six 30-somethings that calls itself the ``Young Turks.''

The six make much of their age, although in fact councilors over the years have almost always been elected when in their 20s and 30s. All are white and all are male.

And, troubling, there is a sharp schism between them and the city's three non-white councilors.

Rather than looking like the wave of the future, the Young Turks collectively seem more an echo of the past.

And there is almost no prospect of that changing soon.

In fact, the city's only Latino councilor - Felix Arroyo - is perceived as extremely vulnerable.

The thinking is that Timilty (or whomever) knocks Arroyo back into fifth place and out of a job.

And so - a dull year, no September election and a body that seems increasingly disconnected from the city's population.

None of that sounds very good.

Tom Keane can be reached at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.