Tom Keane

As the dust settles, six notes from the race

Some fallout and observations from Boston’s mayoral preliminary:

■ Can you say Mayor Connolly? John Connolly has to be one happy guy. It’s not time to start measuring the drapes (and in fact, per Governor Deval Patrick, don’t bother with new drapes at all), but a Suffolk University/Boston Herald poll taken before last week’s election showed him easily beating Martin Walsh 44 to 29 percent. Connolly has successfully transformed himself from a naysayer taking on an incumbent to a man with a comprehensive and appealing vision for Boston. Walsh did well in his home turf of Dorchester and Southie, but Connolly had support from almost everywhere else, suggesting he’s better positioned to sweep up the votes of the 64 percent who favored one of the other 10 candidates. It would be a mistake to count out the well-funded Walsh, but he kicks off the final stretch playing catch-up.

■ Where in the world was Mayor Tom Menino? For all of the talk about Menino’s heavy hand in choosing his successor, Hizzonor seemed — especially toward the end — almost invisible. Proof of Menino’s lack of involvement is in the pudding of the results: He’s not a fan of either finalist. Connolly dared challenge him, back when the mayor was considering another term, and even before then he took pleasure in tweaking Menino’s administration. Menino and Walsh also have an unhappy relationship and during the race Walsh staked out positions — such as doing away with the Boston Redevelopment Authority — that were anathema to the Mayor. Amazing: When Menino said in August that he would stay out of the race and everyone assumed he was dissimulating, he was actually telling the truth.

■ Old-time campaigning still matters. Both Connolly and especially Walsh did better than polls predicted they would, and it’s a reasonable conclusion that it was their get-out-the-vote efforts that made the difference. A strong field organization can help push one’s vote up by a few percentage points. That may seem a trifling amount, but in a tight race — and the preliminary certainly was that — its effect can be and was significant. New media are great, but posts and tweets don’t get people to the polls; door-knocking and cars do.

■ Good riddance to identity politics. If people voted on the basis of race and sex, then Charlotte Golar Richie — African-American and the only woman in the field — should have fetched well over 50 percent. Instead, she got 14. And the six candidates of color collectively received under 35 percent — this in a majority-minority city. I’m not saying identity politics is over, with us now living in some postracial, gender-neutral nirvana, but it seems that neighborhood allegiances, political engagement, interest-group politics, and strong messaging mattered more.

■ The pointless fight for endorsements. The aftermath of the preliminary will see Connolly and Walsh seeking the endorsements of the folks they just beat. And the defeated will be grateful to be wooed; it’ll keep them in the public eye and somehow validate their losing campaigns. If the endorsers had something aside a recommendation — money or a robust field organization — perhaps their backing would have meaning. Otherwise, endorsements are almost insulting, as if voters aren’t capable of making up their own minds. They also have a stink about them. A lot of the defeated are out of jobs. It’ll be fair for voters to wonder what quid pro quo candidates offered to get their support.

■ If you can’t say something nice. The preliminary was widely praised as a model of issues-focused civility. Some think the next six weeks will be more like a brawl. Maybe they’re right, but I think — hope — not. Sure, there will be more in the way of direct questions raised by Connolly about Walsh and vice-versa. But the two finalists earned their places because they persuaded voters they were good guys with good ideas. Candidates who indulge in negative campaigning come across as mean-spirited and unlikable. With many still unfamiliar with the two men — almost 70 percent of those registered didn’t vote — it would be smart politics to stay positive. It would also be far better for the eventual winner to take over the helm of a city bound together rather than torn apart.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on September 29, 2013.

The revolution will be printed

Last week, crowds camped overnight at the Boylston Street Apple Store, desperate to be first to get their hands on the newest iPhone. Someday in the not-too-near future, those same fanboys and girls will instead be waiting by their computers. Apple will, after much hype (something at which it is excellent), post the designs for its latest gadget. They’ll pay a fee, download the plans, and watch as their 3D printers quickly build their toy. When finished, they’ll pick it up and turn it on, along with millions of others who just did the same thing.

When that happens, the Chinese economy will collapse.

In all likelihood, China’s economy will have collapsed well before 3D printers become sophisticated enough to print the guts of a mobile device. It’s a technology that’s been heralded for several years but now looks increasingly real. The Industrial Revolution was the era of mass production. Now, 3D printers will usher in the era of personal production.

It seems the stuff of science fiction, but check it out on Amazon.com. For $1,299 you can buy the Cubify Desktop Printer, a machine that creates objects right before your eyes — a full chess set, for instance. The blueprints for the objects are computer files; the printer follows those blueprints by precisely spraying thin layers of material. Granted, it seems crude and a bit silly right now. You can only print with plastics, the process can be slow, and $1,300 to create doo-dads you can find at the Dollar Store is excessive.

But just wait. Soon the machines will be able to print with anything: metals, paper, cloth, food, even living tissue — all of which have already been done by prototypes. There’s one school of thought that believes 3D printing will help bring manufacturing back to US shores. For a time, that may be the case. The better machines are costly and complicated; a local manufacturer will be able to print parts and assemble them for sale. But it’s a theory reminiscent of Federal Express’s failed 1984 bet on “ZapMail,” back when fax machines were expensive and rare. Two years and $317 million later, the service ended as low-priced fax machines made their way into offices around the country.

The same will happen with 3D printers: They’ll become cheaper, faster, and better. It is conceivable that eventually almost everything we now buy — particularly if it’s relatively small — will be manufactured in our homes. Want a new pair of jeans or the latest model of shoes? Print it at home; wear it tonight. And even better, the jeans or shoes can be customized exactly to your fit.

When we start using tableside 3D printers to make everything we wear, the textile industry will be transformed, becoming more about design than manufacturing. The overseas sweatshops that today manufacture clothing will close — better for our consciences, perhaps, but not so good for those for whom it’s the only job available. Shippers will lose business; boats and trucks will have nothing to carry. Retailers will shut down. Malls will be empty.

As with any technological advance, the benefits of 3D printing will be enormous. Improvements in productivity create wealth and in the long run everyone is better off. But that was true of the original Industrial Revolution, which wreaked havoc on a largely agrarian culture. There are many who still wish we could return to those times and there will be many who will resist this next revolution — and some voices are already being raised in warning. The 19th century Luddites tried to destroy the looms that were putting artisans out of work. Perhaps this time around we’ll see the CEOs of Aéropostale, Gap, and REI marching to ban home ownership of 3D printers. They won’t succeed, but the disruption they worry about will be real. There’s a new world coming, one that will profoundly shake the old.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Globe on September 24, 2013.

Thanks, candidates, for an upbeat race

They got on the bus last spring, and two days hence all but two get off. Twelve candidates went through the toil of collecting signatures, filing forms, and pulling together campaign operations, all for the chance of becoming Boston’s next mayor. Come Tuesday, 10 of them are losers. That’s a word that’s often meant as a mocking put-down, but in this case, even the losers have accomplished much.

I don’t know which two will make it through to the November runoff. The most recent polls show a number bunched together. One by Suffolk University and the Boston Herald puts at-large City Councilor John Connolly in the lead, at 16 percent, while District Attorney Dan Conley, state Representative Marty Walsh, and onetime state representative and former city official Charlotte Golar Richie are narrowly behind. A second, from WBUR, has similar results but adds at-large City Councilor Felix Arroyo to the mix. A reasonable bet would be that the finalists come from those five.

A reasonable bet but not a sure one. Both polls show large number of voters to be undecided and have margins of error of 4 percent or more. Thus even candidates with lesser numbers can argue that the margin of error plus some late-breaking voters equal victory. The weather, last-minute developments, and candidates’ ground games — their get-out-the-vote efforts — can all move numbers on Election Day, particularly in a field as crowded as this.

Campaigning is a grind. Candidates have to simultaneously create a field organization, raise money to support their efforts, put together a solid rationale for their candidacy, and reach out to voters at every opportunity possible. It is an exhausting ordeal, each day a roller coaster of emotions. A good story in the paper can leave you high; two hours later, a simple rebuke from a voter can bring you down. Although the candidates will tell you they’ve learned much and had experiences that will deeply inform their postcampaign lives, it’ll still be nice when it ends.

Campaigning is also risky. Four of those running — Felix Arroyo, Rob Consalvo, Connolly, and Mike Ross — have sacrificed their day jobs as city councilor for this run. (A fifth councilor, Charles Yancey, is running both for mayor and reelection.) The others as well have had to take leaves from jobs, and all have had to take leave from the obligations of their personal lives. Running for mayor is a strain on relationships with spouses, children, family, and friends.

So why do they do it? Power, of course. The mayor’s job, as incumbent Tom Menino has noted frequently, is one of the best political jobs around. With Boston’s strong-mayor-and-weak-council system of governance, a mayor can have enormous and often unfettered influence.

But most also run, I think, for the best of reasons. As trite as it may sound, the candidates care. They have a vision for what Boston might be and want to help move the city in that direction. Sure, it takes a lot of ego to believe that you are uniquely qualified to do such a thing, but that’s the nature of political office — a combination of hubris and aspiration.

This campaign has been remarkable. There’s been much smart thinking about new plans and programs. People — especially young people — have become (often for the first time) engaged in politics and, by extension, in the daily life of the city. And the battle for votes has been, as many have noted, exceptionally civil. The mudslinging of other elections has left many of us cynical about the political process. This election has been a refreshing tonic: thoughtful, issues-focused, and uplifting. The campaign itself has helped make Boston a better city; all the candidates deserve credit.

The 12 have been together at so many debates and showcases that they have developed a kind of camaraderie. They’re rivals, to be sure, yet they’ve also gotten to know each other so well that, like long-married couples, they can finish each other’s sentences. There’s almost a sense of melancholy as the end approaches. Two will go on; the rest return to the real world. To those 10, we owe our thanks.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on September 22, 2013.

Liars and cheats

For many, copying tests or inflating resumes is worth the risk

The startling news from Cambridge: 10 percent of incoming Harvard freshmen cheated on exams while in high school. That factoid, taken from a survey conducted by the student-run Harvard Crimson, shook up the chatterati, prompting much handwringing about the crumbling morals of today’s youth and the impending fall of civilization. Roman Empire, here we come! In truth, what the survey should have prompted was skepticism.

According to a 2012 national study by the Josephson Institute’s Center for Youth Ethics, 51 percent of high schoolers admit to having cheated on an exam. The Institute’s analysis, conducted every other year, has consistently found a majority of students to be cheaters. So if the Crimson’s numbers are right, then far from being ethically challenged, Harvard freshmen are saints. And since Harvard students aren’t saints (they only play them in those fantasy-drenched essays they write to try to gain admission), something’s wrong. An obvious conclusion: Harvard students actually cheated on a survey about cheating.

Kids aren’t the only ones with ethical issues. The Society for Human Resource Management estimates that 40 percent of resumes contain lies, while a staggering 78 percent of them are misleading. In making the transition from real life to resume, suddenly each position you’ve held is vital, you were the leader on every task, and everything you did met with acclaim.

Cheating is hardly a new phenomenon. The Josephson Institute’s data go back to 1992, and it was bemoaning the lack of students’ principles even then. But there is some belief that while cheating may be age-old, of late it’s become more widespread and sophisticated, with smartphones instead of scribbled hints on one’s palm and downloaded papers replacing CliffsNotes. And I suspect resume padding is a long-time practice as well. The main difference between then and now is that today it is far easier to find out the truth. A padded resume posted on LinkedIn becomes available for all to see, including those co-workers who have no recollection of your singlehanded success at turning around that lagging division.

But for all of this cheating, civilization hasn’t crumbled. The reason, contrary to the worries of those anguished by its prevalence, is that, while cheating is bad, it’s not terribly bad. For many, it’s seen as something akin to speeding. Against the rules, to be sure, but oftentimes rationalized in the same way that we rationalize many transgressions: Everyone else is doing it, I’ll never get caught, the rules themselves don’t make sense (30 miles per hour on this road?), or something else (such as an important meeting) matters more.

Why do high schoolers cheat on tests? They cheat because sometimes the penalties of not doing so appear far worse than the cheating itself. Few kids come home from school to hear their parents asking, “What did you learn today?” Rather, the question is, “How’d you do on your exam?” From freshman year on, the constant drumbeat is about GPA and college admissions. Do badly on one test and your GPA suffers. A lower GPA and you don’t get into the right college. Don’t get into that college and your life is in tatters, dooming you to die early, broke, and alone.

Faced with those consequences, the moral costs of cheating must look small indeed.

The same kind of thinking applies to resumes, which at best are imperfect markers as to how good an employee you might be. Every entry-level job seems to require prior experience, a Catch-22 whose only escape, finally, is to invent a prior experience. Or consider the case of Leslie Cohen Berlowitz, who was forced to resign in disgrace from her job as head of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. She had falsely claimed to have a doctorate from New York University; she probably wouldn’t have been hired unless she had one. Still, after 17 years on the job, one would think work performance, not some long-ago distortion, would matter more. Apparently not.

In an ideal world, we’d care more about how much our children know than how they test. And employers would judge staff by the quality of their work rather than the length of their CV. Until then, though, cheating will persist — not just by a few, but a lot.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Globe on September 17, 2013.

These hopefuls mean business

Except when City Hall is hiring, mayors don’t create jobs. But they can create the conditions that allow local economies to flourish — or they can burden business to such an extent that seasoned executives and young entrepreneurs alike shy away.

Most of the 12 candidates running to be Boston’s next mayor seem to understand the power they hope to have. By my count, eight of them focus directly on economic growth. District Attorney Dan Conley, with a plan he calls “Better Jobs Now,” has the most detailed proposal out there. At the other extreme are those such as City Councilor Felix Arroyo whose platitude that “all jobs in Boston are good jobs” doesn’t show much thinking as to what that means or how to get there.

There was a time, not long ago, when politicians would treat commerce as the enemy, setting up an us-versus-them dynamic that regarded doing business in the city as a privilege for which companies must dearly pay. The mayoral candidates have mostly gotten away from that kind of thinking; they seem to understand basic economics. Rather than trying to tell voters what they hope to extract, they’re trying to help companies grow with the belief that a thriving economy naturally creates local jobs. Doing so means making Boston an attractive place to do business, with better infrastructure, better services, and smarter employees.

City Councilor Rob Consalvo, for example, focuses on an old but worthy idea — the Urban Ring — that would connect Boston to neighboring towns. Conley talks about coordinating transportation planning directly with mayors from other cities around Boston. He’s not alone in this regional approach — City Councilor Mike Ross is also a fan — and it’s a welcome shift in tone from the current administration, which is Boston-centric to a fault. If the new mayor can work with other mayors as if they were his or her peers, the results could be remarkable indeed.

Meanwhile, City Councilor John Connolly wants to upgrade City Hall. A few months ago he posted an amusing but telling video titled “The Amazing Permit Race,” which compared applying for a dog license and a moving truck permit in both Boston and Philadelphia. Boston proved a nightmare. And the complexity of the city’s regulations doesn’t just make life tough for applicants. It also creates the perception of favoritism; insiders can get stuff done while those who are not politically connected lose out.

Connolly promises reform. So too do community activist John Barros, Conley, Consalvo, and Ross. Of course, so too did incumbent mayor Tom Menino, who during his two decades has also decried the city’s byzantine processes. His failures suggest that improvement is hard, requiring real legislative changes and a willingness to let go of regulatory strings that many would just as soon see in place.

Companies also need good employees, and that’s particularly true for Boston’s burgeoning innovation economy. Training and education are thus a key part of any growth strategy. That’s good for potential employees as well; long gone are the days when an unskilled job could keep a family in the middle class. State Representative Marty Walsh, a one-time labor leader, is especially passionate about the subject. Then too, Boston is expensive. Promoting affordable housing, Barros and Conley argue, thus becomes an economic growth strategy by helping to keep skilled workers in the area.

For all of these good ideas, there is a dark undercurrent. A number of candidates — such as Arroyo, Conley, and Ross — genuflect to the Boston Jobs Ordinance, promising to make sure that Boston jobs are for Boston residents. Assuming businesses aren’t discriminating on the basis of race, sex, or other similar factors (something that should be aggressively addressed), they want to hire the best people for the job. A jobs set-aside for city residents is in effect a requirement that something else trumps merit — an anathema to businesses competing in national and international markets. Push that idea hard and businesses will just head for friendlier climes — Quincy, perhaps, or New Hampshire. That risk underscores a key idea that the new mayor should keep in mind: Boston is not an island. It’s just as easy to move out as it is to move in.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on September 15, 2013.

The boom candidates

City Hall promises come easy in a strong economy

It can be fun being mayor when the economy is on an upswing; it’s less a pleasure when recessions hit. Spending makes everyone happy. Trimming back does not. Judging by the raft of new ideas the 12 candidates to succeed Boston Mayor Tom Menino are advancing, they’re looking to have fun. But the next mayor shouldn’t enjoy himself or herself too much. It’s a good guess that sometime during the second term, things will turn sour — and that’s when the party ends and the painful hangover can begin.

The candidates have promises aplenty. Felix Arroyo wants more cops patrolling city parks. John Barros would boost spending on the arts. Dan Conley thinks teachers need more professional development. John Connolly urges increasing the length of the school day. Rob Consalvo says he’ll hire 200 more cops. Charlotte Golar Richie looks to rebuild infrastructure to better withstand global climate change. Mike Ross hopes for universal pre-school. Marty Walsh plans “little city halls” in Boston’s neighborhoods.

And so on and so on. There are a lot of ideas out there, many of them worthy. Whoever is mayor will likely liberally borrow from what has been a stew of creative thinking during this campaign. The year 2014 may see the kick-off of a number of new initiatives.

They will all cost money, though. Still, we’re doing well, so why not? The national economy is growing, doing a slo-mo bounce-back from the Great Recession. And Boston in particular is hot. The industries that are its mainstays — health care, technology, bio-tech — are surging, hiring more and generating profits. Attracted by the city’s charm, safety, culture, and nightlife, people are moving in. Developers are spending billions on new construction, all with the promise of millions of dollars of new tax revenue. The city is in solid shape, and lenders likely would be willing to lend it more.

The money, it seems, is at hand. And that’s the problem.

Things may be on the upswing now, but someday that’ll change. Menino experienced that several times during his 20 years. He arrived just as one recession was ending and saw a long period of growth. Seven years into his term, however, Internet stocks imploded, kicking off the 2001 recession. The economy bounced back eventually, but six years later brought another, far more significant crash. No one knows when the next recession comes, of course, but it’s probably a certainty that at some point one will arrive. Without proper preparation, its impact on the city could be brutal.

Even in the best of times, demands for spending far exceed growth in revenue. Those demands can only be met by thinning the city’s reserves and borrowing. But doing so makes the next recession all the worse. New employees hired during a boom are hard to fire during a bust. Other programs have to be cut deeply to make up the difference, or staff has to be shrunk through attrition (meaning, for example, that in the Police Department new cops wouldn’t be hired while the city waits for old ones to retire, gradually increasing the average age of the force). Bold initiatives, like public art or newly created parks, suddenly find themselves without funds for care and maintenance. What was once an asset to a community turns into an eyesore. Innovative programs sponsored by the city find themselves cut; those dependent on them are cast adrift.

The better but harder approach is to hold off. Increase spending slowly. Don’t take on extra debt. Divert a healthy portion of the new funds coming in to build reserves for the inevitable rainy day.

One of Menino’s best traits has been his fiscal caution. Being a naysayer isn’t necessarily fun, but it’s served Boston well. It’s been politically smart too. People will forgive you for not spending as much as they wish. But those forced to make harsh cuts not only lose a legacy, they can lose reelection

This column originally appeared in The Boston Globe on September 10, 2013.

 

The drug divide

Drawing the line on restrictions and penalties

It made for a disturbing and unfortunate juxtaposition.

The week that the US government decided to essentially legalize the use of marijuana, four died from ingesting another drug, “Molly,” a variant of the more commonly known Ecstasy or MDMA. The first, on Aug. 19, was a 19-year-old woman at Boston’s House of Blues. Days later saw two more at a music festival in New York City. And the drug is also blamed for killing a college sophomore in Washington, D.C., just a weekend ago.

Meanwhile, the prohibitions against marijuana, another psychoactive drug, fade away.

It’s perhaps an overstatement to claim marijuana has been legalized, but not by much. Just last year, Colorado began allowing residents to use marijuana recreationally. Washington state will likely do so in 2014. No longer will pot use be limited to medicinal purposes, as it is in Massachusetts, 17 other states, and Washington, D.C. No longer will users in Colorado and Washington state have to pretend they need a hit to soothe a backache or cure their insomnia, admitting instead to the obvious: Medical pot is just a subterfuge for getting high.

But just because a state permits something doesn’t mean the federal government agrees. According to the Drug Enforcement Agency, marijuana is a Schedule I drug, with “no accepted medical use” and a “high potential for abuse.” The federal penalties are harsh — up to five years for mere possession, for instance. And since federal law trumps state law, in theory that means it doesn’t matter what the states do. Marijuana — medical or recreational — is still illegal.

Unless it’s not. Even as kids were dying from MDMA, Attorney General Eric Holder was telling states that control of marijuana is now up to them. If that position sticks — and there’s a lot of blowback from law enforcement — then the criminalization of cannabis may well go the way of those odd, urban-legend laws (such as limits on Sunday hunting) that are supposedly still on the books yet are also entirely ignored.

In a way, the story of pot in America is starting to look much like the story of alcohol. When Carrie Nation and her followers forced through the 18th Amendment, the results were a rampant disregard of the law and the rise of organized crime. Prohibition’s end did not actually legalize booze. It just pushed the matter down to the states, letting them make the call (and until recently, a few, such as Utah, essentially still banned the stuff ). So too, when Harry Anslinger in the 1930s crusaded to make pot a federal crime, the consequences were the same as Prohibition: Millions paid the law no heed and organized crime found a new market.

Now it looks as if we’re taking the next step: abandoning federal proscriptions and letting the states legalize or not, as they see fit. Colorado and Washington today. Soon, one suspects, there will be many more.

Holder’s decision marks a dramatic shift in philosophy and public policy, and there are many reasons to support it. A decision to get high is a personal one, perhaps unwise but not deserving of jail. The resources spent and lives wasted in stopping pot could be put to far better use. A smarter approach, many say, is to manage drugs through a combination of education, regulation, and taxation. Make sure people understand consequences, ensure quality and safety, put in place restrictions on age and use (as we do with tobacco), and, of course, tax the stuff because, after all, Leviathan wants its cut.

But then one runs headlong into “Molly” and her siblings and wonders where to draw the line. The lessons from Prohibition and the war on drugs are that, in the long run, bans don’t work. If anything, they backfire. Yet the rash of deaths and hospitalizations from “Molly” are horrifying, and the almost instant reaction is to want to impose even harsher restrictions and tougher penalties. One can intellectually understand the argument about education, regulation, and taxation, but what chance to learn does a 19-year-old woman have if merely one dose of MDMA puts her in a morgue? Should the consequence of a single mistake be death?

Thus the conundrum: Even as one war ends, the calls for a new one may be beginning.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on September 8, 2013.

Non-white mayoral candidates need white vote

Boston has in its hands an opportunity to choose its first non-white mayor ever. Six of the 12 candidates can lay claim to that description, a number of them strong, credible, and eminently electable. At-large City Councilor Felix Arroyo Jr.; John Barros, former head of the Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative; and Charlotte Golar Richie, once a senior official in the Menino administration, are particular standouts.

It is an opportunity that could be undone, however, by an upcoming event that is breathtakingly wrongheaded: a planned mayoral debate permitting only non-white candidates to speak. But what stuns is the acquiescence of almost all of those who would be mayor. Perhaps short-sighted, perhaps seeing just another opportunity to make their case to a few more voters in a fiercely competitive race, they fail to understand how their participation is not only a moral transgression but a political misstep as well.

The forum itself, scheduled for Sept. 10 at the nonprofit Freedom House in Dorchester, is promoted as “For the Community by the Community.” Some worry Freedom House risks its nonprofit 501(c)(3) designation, but in truth, private entities can do what they want (just ask the gay-excluding organizers of South Boston’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade). But legal is far different from wise. The tenor of the mayoral campaign so far has been remarkably inclusionary and issues-focused, almost as if each candidate understands that no matter the heat of the battle, it is better to bring people together than to push them apart. And indeed, for a minority candidate, that need is critical.

Boston is what is known in the shorthand as a “majority-minority city,” a self-contradictory term meant to indicate that non-whites make up a majority of the population — 53 percent, according to the US Census Bureau. A simple read on this would be to conclude that Boston is about to have its first non-white mayor.

That read would be incorrect. The lower number for whites excludes a dubious category of so-called “white Latinos.” Add them back in and the white population climbs to almost 54 percent. Then too, the argument about electing a non-white candidate assumes an unswerving solidarity among voters of color. African-Americans are but a quarter of the city’s population. Do the residents of the city whose heritage is Latino, Asian, Native American, or — increasingly common (at 4 percent) — two or more races all think alike? Probably not. And on top of that, elections aren’t about population, they are about turnout. Pollsters’ projections for the vote later this September are that the electorate itself will be around 64 percent white.

In short, if the next mayor of Boston is to come from the minority community, that person will require white votes. A lot of them.

That’s hardly impossible and history makes the case. In 1994, African-American (and Republican!) Ralph Martin won a stunning victory in a race for district attorney, handily defeating a white candidate that saw him raking up large margins in white neighborhoods. His win was correctly hailed as a seminal event, a harbinger of Boston turning a page from a race-plagued past to a post-racial future.

That’s not to say race never matters. It clearly does and in profound ways. Yet to a large degree, victories such as Ralph Martin’s require us to pretend that it doesn’t matter, or at least that it doesn’t matter all that much. Yes, past and present animosities and injustices may plague us, but in order to win, minority candidates need to persuade voters that, notwithstanding differences of color or heritage, they care about them and want to make their lives better. A debate that excludes some candidates merely on the basis of race, however, implicitly rejects that notion. It makes identity transcendent. It says that one side can never truly understand or empathize with the other. And it cuts away at any effort to build a diverse coalition. Yet so far, only one candidate — Golar-Richie — has repudiated the debate. (Rebuffed in a plea late last week to open the event to all, she now says she won’t participate.) For their sake — as well as for the good of the city they seek to lead — the other candidates in this race need to repudiate it as well.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Globe on September 3, 2013.

Organized labor is on the ropes

There will be much noise at Labor Day breakfasts tomorrow as politicians pay fealty and labor thumps its chest, talking about the great battles won and the great ones still to come. Three weeks hence may well see another victory, as union members successfully push one of their own, Marty Walsh (until recently, head of the Building Trades Council) to the front of a crowded field and into the finals for Boston mayor.

Yet the noise means little, and the sense of power is an illusion. Labor is on the ropes. The fault is not its thuggish, pinky-ring stereotype — good and dedicated men and women have ascended to leadership — but deeper causes. The economy that gave unions their birth has changed dramatically. A once-vital movement now seems obsolete and counterproductive.

Organized labor was at its heyday in the 1950s, when unions represented more than a third of all employees. Today, the numbers have plummeted. In 2012, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, just 11.3 percent of all workers were members, the latest in annual declines extending back for decades. And if one pokes through the data, the news for unions is even worse. Unions don’t much appeal to the young, for instance — only 9.5 percent of workers 34 and younger are members, while in older age cohorts the representation is much higher. Further, unionization is largely confined to the government (35.9 percent). In the private sector (6.6 percent), unions are now almost irrelevant, strongest in old-line, slow-growing industries such as utilities (24.7 percent) and transportation (19.9 percent) but weakest in newer, cutting-edge sectors such as finance (1.1 percent) and business services (1.2 percent).

How did the “folks who brought you the weekend” end up this way?

Unions arose in a world dominated by monopolies and oligopolies, corporations wielding extraordinary power against which individual workers had little say. The concept behind unionization was that, by banding together, employees could begin to match their bosses in clout. Kind of like Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots, the two behemoths would face each other and battle away to some uneasy truce. It worked. Wages rose, workplace protections were put in place, and ordinary people — the subject of brutal conditions during the early stages of the Industrial Revolution — were finally accorded some respect.

But the economic landscape has been remade. Many of the vast and powerful businesses that once dominated the country (described by economist John Kenneth Galbraith as the New Industrial State) are now gone or enfeebled. Competition is worldwide, not just domestic, and, more profoundly, the ferment of innovation — in both new fields and old — means that any big company finds itself constantly beset by upstarts that quickly take market share. In the world of creative destruction, changing technologies, and growing fragmentation, unions — which depend upon collective power wielded against large opponents — have little ability to organize.

That doesn’t mean the issues unions once sought to address have gone away. Indeed, amid all of this tumult, employees are ever-less secure in their positions. The balance between work and the rest of one’s life seems to be getting more out of whack. And there are increasing worries about the decline or “hollowing out” of the middle class — the broad group of people who are neither poor nor rich. Someone, somewhere, needs to help solve these problems.

But it won’t be unions.

For all of the excitement local labor leaders may have over Walsh’s candidacy, there is a feared comeuppance. If Walsh is in the final, his union ties — now his greatest asset — will become his greatest liability. Taxpayers have watched as city unions have sought higher wages and shorter days and will wonder how Walsh can be an effective manager. Those who worry about schools have seen teachers’ unions mobilize to block improvements and will question Walsh’s ability to deliver.

The latter point carries great irony. Education is almost certainly a key solution to helping people compete, thrive, and reap the rewards of the new economy. Yet it is unions that are viewed as standing in the way of needed reforms. The enemy of the middle class is now the very group that was once its champion.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on September 1, 2013.