It’s not ‘time to move on’ — it’s time to investigate
LAST SUMMER, the think tank MassINC released a poll revealing that almost 40 percent of Massachusetts voters consider corruption in politics to be widespread. To that substantial, cynical minority, nearly all politicians are venal, unprincipled, and in it for themselves. It’s a worrisome attitude, speaking to a lack of faith in government. Sure, a majority polled still thought those who populate the State House are, with notable exceptions, basically well-meaning and honest. But this week, their confidence was likely shaken.
The reason for that is the bizarre saga of Lieutenant Governor Tim Murray’s auto accident on Nov. 2.
When it first occurred, Murray’s accident seemed a simple thing. He had, he said, woken up before sunrise and decided to take a drive, both to pick up coffee and survey damage from the Halloween snowstorm that had swept through the region. Although traveling at a safe speed, at one point his car skidded on black ice and went tumbling off Route 190. He had been wearing a seat belt, the airbags had deployed, and while the state-owned vehicle was totaled, he was fine - not even needing a trip to the hospital. He immediately asked for a sobriety test from the state troopers who showed up. And to bolster his account of things, one investigating trooper slipped on some black ice while down the road another car went careening after hitting some ice.
It could have happened to anyone, I thought, and when people began raising doubts, I was dismissive. Granted, the tale about surveying storm damage when it’s dark outside did have an odd ring to it, but Murray’s larger point - he liked to go driving alone just to clear his head - struck home. (I, too, enjoy being by myself when in the car; I always win every argument.) The demands by the Globe and the Herald for the release of information from the vehicle’s “black box’’ data recorder seemed overreaching, as did the Herald’s further appeal for the information when the public records request was rebuffed. I remember thinking how awful it was that trust had eroded to such a degree that the first reaction of some was to instantly assume that, if a politician had been involved, then something untoward was going on.
Except, of course, that the doubters were right. When the black box was finally released, it turned out Murray hadn’t skidded on black ice. Instead of traveling at the speed limit, he’d gone as fast as 108 mph. He hadn’t even been wearing a seat belt, and State Police suggested the cause of the accident was he’d fallen asleep. Murray now says that’s the real story, but this time the questions from posters on blogs and comments sections seem more credible. What was Murray really doing out on the road so early? Was he surveying damage or was he coming home from somewhere else? Were others involved? Was he texting? Did he really pass a sobriety test? Were the State Police - so very hesitant to release the black box - covering for him? And also, does he make it a habit not to wear a seat belt?
Shortly after the black box data was released, Governor Deval Patrick said, “I know this man. I care about him.’’ Then, he added, “Now it is time to move on.’’
One can admire the human concern. But politically, Patrick’s attitude is tin-eared, feeding into the worldview of those who believe politicians protect their own. Three years ago, the state watched aghast as legislators voted Sal DiMasi speaker of the House, even as they knew he was about to be indicted. Last week’s events felt like déjà vu, with politicians unaware of how their actions undermine the confidence of ordinary citizens. Apologies, governor, but it is, decidedly, not “time to move on.’’ It is time to investigate, not avoid. Rather than continuing a slow, reluctant drip of information, it is time to kick off a process that is bold, transparent, and independent. Someone, somewhere - a legislative committee, the attorney general, perhaps the feds - needs to stand up and take on this task. Otherwise, the ranks of the cynics will only grow.
Originally published in the Boston Globe on January 8, 2012.