Romney budget chief an agent of change
For Eric Kriss, the last year must have felt like deja vu.
In 1991, when he joined the Weld administration, the fresh assistant secretary of Administration and Finance was appalled at what he found. "Nobody really knew who was spending what or why. We were left with just an unbelievable mess," he said at the time.
Eleven years later, named as secretary of A&F - arguably, the second most powerful position in state government - Kriss's words were equally harsh. The state's budget shortfall, he said, was "the most serious fiscal crisis in 60 years."
Hyperbole? Hardly. In both cases, things were in chaos. And in both cases, Kriss was brought in as a fixer.
Kriss has a reputation for speaking his mind - usually a virtue, but in government, sometimes a flaw. He infuriated Mayor Thomas Menino last February when he said the comparatively wealthy Bostonian should not cry "poor boy" in the face of state aid cuts. In September, people gasped when Kriss talked about governmental "givers and takers." He upset privatization foe Sen. Marc Pacheco (D- Taunton) in November, when he took on Microsoft and pushed for open- source software. Just recently, he's gone after unions, saying their costs were a "hidden tax" on state taxpayers.
It's not that Kriss is wrong about any of this. It's just that one normally doesn't hear these things from politic and polite senior officials.
Which is fine by Kriss. He's not looking to win friends; he's not gunning for some elected office himself. He's a man on a mission.
Kriss, 54, hardly looks the revolutionary. He's neat, trim. He's been married for 32 years and has two sons now in college. See him on the street, and you might peg him as a buttoned-down, 9-to-5 salaryman.
Looks can be deceiving. In business, Kriss was an entrepreneur who relished the risk and challenges of starting up or turning around a company. He has a passion for music, and found time over the last year to put together an album of instrumentals ("some jazz stuff, some blues, even some Hayden," he says) that he'll release next month. He also loves cars; his Jaguar provokes controversy when he shows up at meetings to announce the latest belt tightening.
He understands the symbolism involved. "I don't mean it to be an affront to anybody," he says. "It's just an attribute of who I am."
Kriss left the Weld administration in 1993 and went on to found and run several companies. "When I left," he says, "I told my family and close friends I would never go back [to the public sector]."
Mitt Romney changed his mind. It was his admiration for Romney - they worked together at Bain Capital in the 1980s - as well as the challenge that drew him back.
"I do like crises," Kriss says, seeing them as a "possibility for dynamic change." And in the state's recent budget crisis, Kriss saw a chance to finish some things he had started in the Weld years. "How many times is it that you have two bites at the apple?" he asks.
Has he accomplished what he wanted? The most important success has been survival. The state muddled through a terrible year using a combination of program cuts, new fees, and occasional smoke and mirrors, all without imposing a broad-based tax increase. "It was a difficult year," Kriss admits. There was enormous conflict with the Legislature; sometimes the questioning was "harsh, tough and unfair," Kriss says, "but I didn't take it personally." Indeed Kriss is quick to share credit, stressing the role of the Legislature and his good working relationship with its leaders.
Otherwise,
success often has been elusive. The administration last year proposed a
sweeping set of reforms in education, transportation, health care and the
judiciary. Those have been only partially realized.
"You never get all of what you want," Kriss
points out. "We made progress and the public debate has shifted."
Unheralded, in fact, are some significant changes. Kriss
had targeted the fragmentation of the judicial system, with its myriad, wasteful
courthouses. Now he points to the construction of a new, unified courthouse in
This year - with the severe budgetary gloom largely over - marks an opportunity to make good on many of last year's initiatives. Will the blunt-talking Kriss be around to see it through? One suspects yes. He's optimistic, he's learned a lot and he has a better sense than he did of what he can achieve. Still, he makes it clear: "I serve at the pleasure of the governor."
Talk back to Tom Keane at TomKeane@TomKeane.com.