Tom Keane

Boston City Council all the poorer after pay grab

THE BOSTON City Council’s quest for a bigger salary makes for a tale of breathtaking political incompetence. A body that never enjoyed high esteem anyway has managed to sully its reputation even further. The shame of that is Boston could use a strong and effective counterweight to the mayor. Instead we now have a council that appears weaker than ever.

Council President Bill Linehan first proposed raises of $25,000 in early September, a 29 percent gain over members’ current earnings of $87,500. It wasn’t only the size of the new salaries that startled. Linehan also proposed they become effective immediately.

The public outcry was predictable and justified. The State Ethics Commission got into the act as well, worrying that an immediate increase might violate state conflict-of-interest rules. Linehan backpedaled, agreeing to delay the effective date until after the next election and cutting the raise to $20,000. The 13-member body passed the measure 9-4.

Last week, Mayor Marty Walsh responded with a veto. Councilors perhaps could override him (although there’s some dispute about that). If they were smart, however, they would just let the matter go. Already, too much damage has been done.

Even in the best of circumstances, setting compensation for politicians is a hot-button issue. The money to pay for those salaries comes from taxpayers, many of whom are earning less than the people who represent them. The vote itself is, obviously, self-serving. And any time the issue comes up, it becomes a lightning rod for those who are unhappy with politics or politicians.

This is no secret to politicians, which is why the subject is approached in the most gingerly fashion possible. Many bodies use some external measures (such as inflation or changes to the gross domestic product) to adjust compensation. Others look to third parties (for example, a compensation commission of disinterested members) to make recommendations. And when compensation changes, it does so only slightly. None look for the gigantic increment that the council sought for itself.

Given this, the councilors’ approach to the subject looks especially inept: There was a cliff in front of them, they saw it and knew a fall would hurt, but they stepped over anyway.

Compound that with the fact that many residents have little idea what the council does (except, of course, to fight hard to raise its salary). The perception is that the body is weak and ineffectual, focused more on busy work than matters of actual substance.

There’s something to be said for that — and I say that as someone who was once a member of that body. The council meets in session just once a week. Except around budget season, committee hearings are relatively infrequent. Councilors spend their days appearing before the city’s liquor licensing board or zoning board of appeals, attending community meetings, or acting as go-betweens for residents and the city administration.

More fundamentally, the council has little formal power. Boston has what’s known as a “strong mayor” form of government. When it comes to the budget, for example, councilors can either approve or disapprove but, unlike most legislative bodies, they can’t create alternative budgets or specifically designate where funds should be spent. As a result, much of their power is of the “bully pulpit” sort, the kind that rests on moral authority and public credibility that — used effectively — allows councilors to be a meaningful check on mayoral power and city bureaucrats. But their foolish focus on compensation has now undercut that authority and credibility.

Indeed, one can manufacture a conspiracy here. Mayor Walsh faced a mini-crisis last spring when the council nearly failed to pass his first school budget. It was then he likely figured that, kind words about the council being a “vital partner” notwithstanding, it’s really a mayor’s opponent. What better way to eviscerate your opponent then to whisper sweet nothings about pay and stand back and watch the whole thing blow up? That didn’t happen, of course, but the effect is that same. The council’s embarrassment is Walsh’s gain. It’s also the city’s loss.

This column was first published in The Boston Globe on October 28, 2014.

GOP is still anathema in Mass

Jobs, education, and welfare reform. That’s the triumvirate of issues that undergird Charlie Baker’s gubernatorial run, the three that appear over and over in his television ads. Jobs and education I get. But welfare reform? Does that really excite voters? Indeed, didn’t we pass reforms earlier this year? And more to the point, Baker’s campaign seems to be ignoring the most compelling reason to get him elected, the one that could really move votes: Someone’s got to fend off the foxes lurking around the chicken coop.

The Bay State’s biggest political problem is the utter dominance of one party. Of the 160-member House, 131 are Democrats. In the 40-member Senate, there are only four Republicans. For the last four years, all six statewide constitutional offices — governor, lieutenant governor, attorney general, treasurer, secretary of state, and auditor — have been held by a Democrat. And to boot, both US senators and all nine US representatives are Democrats.

Nor — with the possible exception of governor (and, naturally, lieutenant governor) — is that likely to change. After next week’s election, it’s a sure thing the legislature will remain overwhelmingly Democratic. There are Republicans on the ballot for attorney general, treasurer, secretary of state, and auditor — but recent polling shows them far behind. Democratic US Senator Ed Markey, up for reelection, will win easily. And, barring a surprise in the Moulton-Tisei fight for the sixth congressional district, the Massachusetts delegation to the House will also remain true blue.

Don’t get me wrong. Massachusetts’ politicians are, almost without exception, good people. They care about their jobs, work hard and try to do what’s right. But when one party has all of the power, everyone becomes an insider, creating a closed political culture that can breed scandal (the Probation Department, the Department of Children and Families, and the state drug labs) and complacency. The status quo becomes comfortable with itself, and new ideas, especially those that upset established interests, are shunted aside. Government becomes slothful and less efficient, delivering less while spending more.

An effective two-party system is an antidote. A clash of interests and checks on power force a higher degree of openness, truth, and innovation. Voters get this. That’s why there’s been a long history of Republican governors getting elected despite Democrats winning most other offices. Bill Weld, Paul Cellucci, Jane Swift (albeit, unelected), and Mitt Romney marked a 16-year string of such ballot-splitting.

So why wouldn’t a Republican running for office this time around make the same case?

Because, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Charlie Baker is, in fact, a Republican. But then again, you probably haven’t heard — or at least you haven’t heard it from him: Baker rarely mentions it. His ads talk about a lot of things but not his party affiliation. (The only way to tell perhaps, is the red colors his campaign features.) The bio on his website notes he is a “Republican candidate,” but that’s about it.

And this shyness about his affiliation makes his advertisements a little curious. Many are gauzy, filled with heartwarming stories about his commitment to his family, his forthright support for his brother, Alex, when he came out, his success in state government, and his equal success turning around Harvard Pilgrim Healthcare. Welfare reform aside, the tougher ads mostly trumpet a litany of familiar Democratic themes including, over and over and over, that he’s pro-choice. The idea that Baker is actually not a Democrat is mentioned only elliptically: He speaks of his bipartisan nature, his support from Democrats and independents, and his enthusiasm for new ideas and creative approaches.

Of course, we all know why. Even as Democrats are on the ropes elsewhere, locally the GOP is anathema. It’s the national party’s fault. As it continues to veer evermore towards the extreme, increasingly intransigent and seemingly more concerned with bringing down a president than building up a nation, it further alienates Massachusetts moderates that, in a tight race, are the key to a gubernatorial victory. Thus we see Baker largely unable or unwilling to put forward the best case to make himself governor. In the Bay State, at least, Republican is the new word that dare not speak its name.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on October 26, 2014.

A new rule for male politicians

Thoughtless words imperil male politicians.

In a ham-handed effort to calm nerves about the risks of Ebola, President Barack Obama last week recounted his trip to a hospital that had treated some Americans with the disease. “I shook hands with, hugged, and kissed — not the doctors — but a couple of the nurses at Emory because of the valiant work that they did,” he said.

Apart from the inadvisability of his actions, why would Obama hug and kiss nurses but not doctors? The implicit reason, of course, is a stereotype: Nurses are women and doctors are men. And why hugs and kisses for women and not men? It reflects the sexist way we greet professionals by their gender: handshakes for men, kisses for women.

Examples of sexist language and behavior by male politicians are easy to find.

Last month, Republican gubernatorial candidate Charlie Baker called Fox reporter Sharman Sacchetti “sweetheart.’’ Even though he apologized immediately, that one word got him in big trouble, read by some as Baker’s take on all women, feeding into the “war on women” trope that Democrats have eagerly promulgated about the GOP.

Earlier this year, then-attorney general candidate Warren Tolman pushed back against his primary opponent Maura Healey, calling her aggressive questions of him “unbecoming.” Last year, Obama got heat for referring to California Attorney General Kamala Harris as “by far, the best-looking attorney general in the country.” In 2010, majority leader Harry Reid spoke about New York Senator Kirsten Gillibrand. “We in the Senate refer to (her) as the hottest member,” he told a crowd.

For the most part, these words mean little. Baker’s professional record suggests he is more than comfortable working with high-powered women. So too, Obama’s stands on issues such as equal pay speak far louder than the occasional stereotypes his words convey. And many — including many women — defend public comments about a woman’s pulchritude, thinking the brouhahas they provoke are overblown and that comments about someone’s looks should be seen as a compliment and nothing else.

Still, as politicians perhaps know better than most, words can have enormous power. They can inspire and they can hurt, and sexist language uttered by public figures in particular can be especially hurtful.

The English language itself is partly to blame, making it easy to get tripped up. There are the unnecessary distinctions, for instance: “waitress” and “actress”, when “waiter” and “actor” would be fine. We grapple with gender-denominated nouns. The male head of a committee is a “chairman” while people aren’t sure what to call a woman in the same position (“madam chairman”?). We still haven’t figured out singular pronouns when gender is unclear, substituting the ungainly “they.” And the meaning of words can change rapidly. In the military, “conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman” is a crime, hardly a slur against women. But in a political debate, apparently, “unbecoming” can be read as one.

But the other fault is a failure to distinguish between the personal and the professional. Many of the examples above are easy to dismiss as innocuous — grating to some ears perhaps, but nothing of real substance. Yet as almost every woman could doubtless testify, even seemingly innocuous comments, repeated over and over, can build to something significant. “Sweetheart,” “hot,” or “best-looking” are OK and even welcomed by friends and lovers, but in the professional realm they jar, reducing women to those terms only. So too, greeting women with a hug but reserving handshakes for men also promotes an unwarranted distinction. (Better, perhaps, would be to emulate the French: hug and kiss for everyone.)

Granted, the entry of women in the work world is still a relatively recent phenomenon; it wasn’t too long ago that the employment sections of newspapers used to advertise “jobs for men” and “jobs for women.” The world is changing rapidly and it’s hard to keep up with new language and changing mores. Still, politicians — male politicians in particular — need to school themselves better and watch more carefully the words they use. A basic rule: If you wouldn’t say it about a man, then don’t say it about a woman — and vice versa.

This column was first published in The Boston Globe on October 21, 2014.

Gas prices are falling; the real cost comes later

GAS IS CHEAP, and getting cheaper every day. Motorists everywhere are thrilled and why not? A $40 fill-up is now $30 or less. And if that little windfall were only going into our pockets, all would be well. But that’s not what’s happening: Instead, we’re wasting it. Public policy — federal, state, and even local — pushes us to conserve and be efficient. But basic economics now pulls the other way.

I figure this out while gazing longingly at an image of the Tesla Motors Model S, the all-electric luxury car that’s taken the automotive world by storm (even the curmudgeonly Consumer Reports gushed it’s “not only the best electric car we’ve tested, it’s now our top-rated model overall”). Getting the equivalent of about 90 miles per gallon, the natural question, posted on the company’s website, is, “How much can I save?” Tesla provides a handy calculator to come up with the answer: A whopping $4,270 a year in gas savings when netted against the cost of electricity.

But I take a closer look at the numbers and things look less rosy. Tesla figures gas is $3.90. Not these days. It assumes I drive a car averaging 22 miles per gallon. More like 30. Electricity? The company uses an average of 12 cents per kilowatt. In Massachusetts, it’s 16.9 cents. And Tesla expects I drive 30,000 miles a year. Really, it’s more like 15,000.

Run the numbers again and I’m only saving $683 annually — about $13 a week. It’s still something, of course, but hardly enough to justify paying $74,000 or more.

Looks like I’m sticking with my Honda.

Or, for that matter, if gas prices continue to fall, maybe I’ll just pick up a light truck.

For the problem that Tesla faces in my little test is one afflicting all manufacturers of fuel-efficient cars. When the cost of gas rises, we panic, trying to get rid of the behemoths and looking for something smaller, lighter, electric, or hybrid. We don’t need lectures from greens about why it’s good for the environment. We do it simply because it’s good for our budgets. That means not only more fuel-efficient cars, but also carpooling, public transit, or simply cutting down on casual jaunts about town.

Until the price of gas drops. Then the opposite happens.

GasBuddy.com now reports regular unleaded in Boston is as low as $2.85 per gallon, making it the Two-Buck Chuck of the automotive world. Moreover, industry sources are saying it could go lower still. That marks a steep slide from just three years ago, when gas averaged over $4.

And the impact of that? The University of Michigan Transportation Research Institute reports that in September the average miles per gallon of newly sold cars declined from 25.8 to 25.3. It’s a small change, but significant, reflecting “the reduced demand for fuel efficient vehicles of all types because of the falling gas prices,” according to the research institute. And as long as that continues, it’s a safe guess that October’s sales will show yet another decline in average miles per gallon.

We all know better, of course. Oil is a limited resource. Even with booming domestic production, we still import too much of the stuff. And, most critically, consumption contributes mightily to greenhouse gases. That’s why we’ve put in place an array of measures to try to encourage greater efficiency. Corporate average fuel economy standards force manufacturers to squeeze out better mileage. Highly efficient cars get preferences for parking, buyers of plug-in cars get big tax breaks, and hybrids get to drive in HOV lanes.

But against the power of the almighty dollar, all of these falter. It’s an old truth: Economics is a powerful, maybe irresistible force. Our best intentions and government policy notwithstanding, it drives our decisions.

The drop at the pump reflects a multitude of factors. The world economy is slowing, which reduces demand. Summer is turning to winter, and winter-blended gases are less expensive to produce. And new production — especially in the United States — has produced a glut in supply.

Still, if you’re contemplating purchasing an automobile, consider this: Eventually, all of these will change. The economy will rebound, summer will come, and supplies will tighten. Cheap gas is ephemeral. Any new car will be around for years.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on October 19, 2014. 

Boston bedtime stories

Daddy, tell me the story about Boston before global warming.

You’ve heard this one before, honey.

But I like it — the streets. . .

Yes, the streets. It once was that all of Boston’s streets were just packed with throngs of cars, rushing here and there, sometimes hitting, hurting, and even killing people who were just out for a simple walk.

No canals?

That’s right, no canals at all. Your Uncle Fred, the gondolier? Before the canals were built, there were no jobs for people like him. You wouldn’t see the water by your side as you strolled around, just a lot of smelly cars.

It sounds awful.

It was. Funny, but we didn’t know it. We just accepted it the way it was. You know the Harborwalk? Now it’s raised, and it seems we can see a million miles. Back then, it was right at sea level. And the winters were so cold and snowy that sometimes we couldn’t even leave the house.

Is that why all the Canadians come here to visit?

Absolutely. They love the warm weather and all of our beaches. Used to be that they’d all go to the North Shore or Cape Cod.

Cape what?

Never mind. It’s not around anymore. But who cares? We’ve got beaches everywhere now. Even Framingham and Worcester.

We’re so lucky for global warming.

Indeed we are, honey. Indeed we are.

Mommy, tell about what it was like before the Olympics.

Well, dear, many years ago we didn’t have a media center, a soccer stadium, the athletes’ village, the special lanes for Olympic officials, and all of the 25 or so sports venues we have now.

What was there instead?

People, honey. People actually lived in downtown Boston.

But I thought people were supposed to live in suburbs.

Right. But no one seemed to understand that. Then, luckily, the opportunity came along for Boston to host the 2024 Olympics. Many people said no, but some really smart developers thought otherwise and got to work. They tore down all of the nasty apartments and spent billions building the shiny new buildings the Olympics folks said we should have.

Is that why you have to pay that special tax each year?

Yes, but I’m not complaining. It was worth it. For one summer, Boston was the most important city on the planet. It was sad, of course, that all of those businesses had to move out, but I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything.

And we got all of those lovely, empty places to play!

That’s right.

We’re so lucky we have developers, aren’t we?

Indeed we are, dear, indeed we are.

Daddy, tell me the story about Brave Bill.

Well, sweetie, once upon a time people used to make fun of the Boston City Council. They said it didn’t do much, had no power, and was worthless. They just treated it terribly.

And what did Brave Bill do?

Bill said that wasn’t true. He helped people understand that city councilors were the city’s real heroes, the leaders who made Boston the great place it was. He told people how long and hard they worked and how deeply they cared.

So people said, ‘Give them more money’?

I wish. Crabby citizens, media writers, and even the mayor of Boston — Mean Marty, they called him — all tried to stop Brave Bill.

But he won, right?

Yes, he did. Brave Bill helped the city councilors get more money. Soon after that, though, the councilors realized they still weren’t getting paid enough for all of the good things they were doing, so Brave Bill got them even more. And since Brave Bill had a supermajority. . .

Supermajority?

Yes. It means enough votes that there was nothing Mean Marty could do to stop them. And that’s why today there’s a law that city councilors have to be paid the most of anyone in the city.

More than video stars?

Of course. They’re worth every penny — and maybe even more.

We’re so lucky Brave Bill was around, aren’t we?

Indeed we are, sweetie, indeed we are.

This column was first published in The Boston Globe on October 14, 2014.

Does a ballot question kill the cause?

The bottle bill question — coming soon to a voting booth near you! — neatly illustrates the benefits and perils of referendums. They’re a great form of direct democracy, an opportunity for the people to have their voices heard. But they usually don’t get much attention, making them subject to ill-considered whims or to whoever’s advertising budget happens to be biggest. Moreover, they’re a clunky form of lawmaking, a simple yes-no vote that lacks nuance, compromise, and accommodation.

A quick recap: Massachusetts first adopted the bottle bill back in 1983. Carbonated beverages, such as soda and beer, were covered. Uncarbonated were not. The irrational result: Fizzy Poland Springs carries 5 cent deposit. But the same water in the same bottle — except uncarbonated — does not. At the time it didn’t seem to matter. The wide variety of still beverages we see today — juices, flavored waters, sports drinks, and the like — weren’t very popular.

The world changed, however, and bottle bill advocates began arguing for an “update” to include all of the newfangled drinks flooding the market. Legislation was introduced, debated, and allowed to languish. Pressured by supermarkets and beverage makers and wary also about imposing new fees on consumers, legislators found it a lot easier to simply avoid the issue altogether.

So advocates decided to do an end run.

The ballot question process is a difficult one. Proponents need to get language approved by the attorney general, file with the secretary of the Commonwealth, gather signatures (this year, 68,911), submit the measure to the Legislature and — should the legislature fail to act — collect even more signatures (11,485) to finally get on the ballot. That complexity is intentional, a way to keep the number of referenda few (only four this year). Some don’t like referendums at all; they’re an implicit admission that the legislative process has failed. But sometimes that happens, as shown by the two marijuana questions in 2008 and 2012. Politicians were afraid to loosen pot laws for fear of seeming pro-drug. The people, it turned out, were far ahead of them, voting first to decriminalize small amounts and later to allow medical uses.

Thus Question 2. If the legislature won’t act on deposits, ran the thinking, then the people will. And indeed, advocates were able to point to polling that showed wide majorities of Massachusetts citizens favored expanding the law, making even more credible their claim that reform was being bottled up (sorry) at the State House at the behest of narrow special interests.

Then the ads began to run. Deep-pocketed opponents bought a spate of folksy and persuasive TV commercials. Short-funded advocates were unable to mount an equivalent response. The once solid majorities in favor of Question 2 reversed, with recent polling by the Globe now showing 60 percent voting “no.” That may change, of course; indeed, advocates have access to free media that seems to favor their side of the issue. Yet the rapid reversal in fortunes shows just how easy it is to move votes. Unlike races between candidates, where there are plenty of debates and discussions, ballot questions are for the most part ignored. Indeed, check out Question 4, another end-run around the legislature that would impose mandatory sick time on employers. It’s a big-deal issue, but I bet most voters haven’t given it much thought.

Question 2 also demonstrates why referendums, while occasionally needed, should be rare.

Opponents of the bottle bill have been chastised for saying 90 percent of residents have access to curbside recycling. The correct number is closer to 64 percent. But the real debate, and one better handled through a legislative process, is how best to maximize recycling around the state. I’ve argued before that it makes no sense to have both recycling and deposits; the two systems work at odds with each other. But a referendum question doesn’t allow for those sorts of considerations and, in this case, creates an almost paradoxical situation. If Question 2 fails, recycling will be set back; a “no” vote will get interpreted as a reason to do nothing. Yet if the question wins, recycling also will be set back. Since we have all of these new deposits, the thinking will run, why do anything more? Either way, the environment loses.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on October 12, 2014.

It’s still the economy, stupid

The headline number sounds pretty good — unemployment in September dropped to 5.9 percent — and President Barack Obama is out on the stump proclaiming the news and taking a healthy measure of credit. So if “the economy, stupid” is the issue that really drives elections, why are Democrats still looking at the prospect of some serious losses in this year’s midterm voting?

The latest figures, released last Friday, showed unemployment below 6 percent for the first time since July 2008. The drop came because the US economy created 248,000 new jobs in September, the 48th month in a row that job growth has been positive. Without question, there’s been a dramatic turnabout from the grim years of 2008 and 2009 — the height of the Great Recession — when the economy lost a total of 8.7 million jobs. Since then, the United States has more than made up ground with over 9.7 million new jobs created. Combine that with strong numbers for real GDP growth (4.6 percent in the April-June quarter), and things really do seem to be humming along.

Not so fast, argue Obama detractors. They point to two contrary pieces of data that dull the rosy picture: the declining labor participation rate and stagnant median incomes.

The unemployment rate only counts those who are actually looking for work. But many Americans have either gotten discouraged or have simply withdrawn from the workforce altogether, meaning that the so-called labor participation rate continues to fall. In September it was 62.7 percent, its lowest point in recent history (by comparison, in July 2008, it was 66.1 percent). You may wonder how this is possible. After all, the number of net new jobs since the recession (8.7 million lost and 9.7 million created) is about 1 million. How, then, can more people be unemployed? The short answer is that our population is growing. Just to keep the same percent of the population employed, the economy needs to add between 1 million to 1.8 million jobs each year. The 1 million net, of course, is over almost six years. That’s nowhere near enough to keep pace.

Second, the average worker isn’t getting any richer. Median weekly wages so far this year are about $780, the same as they were in 2013. Meanwhile, the inflation rate was 2.1 percent for the year. Thus, “real” wages (incomes adjusted for inflation) are actually lower this year than last. That’s why, even as he hailed the drop in unemployment, Obama had to acknowledge that “there are still a lot of families where somebody in the family is out of work, or isn’t getting as many hours as they want.”

It can’t remain this way, forever, though, which is why Obama is right to celebrate. The economy created 2.3 million new jobs in 2013 and seems on pace to create 2.7 million this year. That’s well above the number needed to keep pace with population growth. Labor markets will eventually function like other markets. A surplus of jobs will draw people back into the workforce, causing the labor participation rate to rise again. Similarly, as we start getting closer to “full employment” (in the range of a 4.0 to 5.5 percent unemployment rate), employers will have to start offering higher wages to attract the workers they want. Real incomes will start to rise.

In other words, the future is bright. Unfortunately for Democrats, the elections are next month.

There’s an irony here. When Bill Clinton ran against incumbent George H.W. Bush, the then-lousy economy was a central theme of his campaign, with unemployment in 1992 at 7.9 percent. Clinton’s “the economy, stupid” message resonated with voters and ushered Bush out of office. In retrospect, however, Bush in fact had managed a turnaround and that the economy was growing at the tail end of his presidency. The data were good; voters just didn’t feel it.

So too this time around. For good reason, people still don’t feel confident about the economy; upbeat statistics don’t feed, house, or clothe. Thus the grim outlook for Democrats for the election. But two years from now, as (presumably) Hillary Clinton makes a run? Almost certainly yes.

This column was first published in The Boston Globe on October 7, 2014.

With iPhone 6, protect privacy first

James Comey, the head of the FBI, is angry. He shouldn’t be, and his anger deserves a response.

Apple caused a stir recently with its release of the iPhone 6, not only because the company hailed as the font of innovation now seemed in catch-up mode to Google, but because it closed a backdoor.

A backdoor in the computer world refers to a way to gain access into a piece of hardware or software that circumvents normal protections. Passwords on smartphones, for example, keep unauthorized users out. But just in case you forgot your password, Apple used to keep a copy. Of course, that meant it had the ability to give that password to others — say, police or national security folks — with an interest in your information.

That backdoor is now gone. If you forget your password, enjoy the paperweight you now have. And even if you’re a cop with a warrant, there’s nothing Apple can do to help: Unless an owner reveals the password, what’s on the phone remains private — or private, at least, for perhaps five years. (That is Apple’s estimate of how long it might take a code-cracker to break a six-character password.)

Law enforcement is appalled. Apple is “marketing something expressly to allow people to place themselves beyond the law,” said the FBI’s Comey. “There will come a day . . . when it will matter a great, great deal to the lives of people of all kinds that we be able to with judicial authorization gain access to a kidnapper’s or a terrorist or a criminal’s device. I just want to make sure we have a good conversation in this country before that day comes. I’d hate to have people look at me and say, ‘Well, how come you can’t save this kid?’”

Let the conversation begin. And let’s start with this: The future Comey fears is already here, and indeed, it’s been around for quite some time. Apple’s doing nothing new.

Google, for instance, has for years allowed users to encrypt their phones (although with Apple’s announcement, Google also said that the encryption feature will now be turned on by default). Unlike Apple, Google never had a backdoor — or at least one it knew of. Also, the company encourages all manner of third-party software developers to create apps and add-ons; many of those help users secure the information on their devices.

This isn’t new with smartphones, either. Ever since the late 1980s, when renegade software developer Phil Zimmerman created a way for ordinary users to encrypt data (called PGP, or “Pretty Good Privacy”), it’s been easy for desktop and laptop computer users to make all of their files unreadable to outsiders. Smartphones are now just following that well-trod path.

Of course, most of us don’t bother with encryption, which is probably a mistake. But sophisticated terrorists or kidnappers? Of course they do. In addition, even if the government somehow were able to compel Apple to reinstall a backdoor, there are ways around that: It’s easy to remotely wipe out all of the data on a smartphone. (A bizarre real-life case: Police apparently wrapped tin foil around the smartphone of former Patriots’ player Aaron Hernandez to prevent it from being wiped clean.)

There’s another problem law enforcement faces with trying to keep its access to smartphones: It could wipe out a key American industry.

Apple likes to cloak its new protections in saintly garb, but in truth it’s just good business. After Edward Snowden, users are demanding better security. If a company doesn’t deliver, they’ll go elsewhere. Moreover, Apple, Google, and other big American high-tech companies sell worldwide. Citizens in nations across the globe won’t buy their devices if they think the United States can so easily pry.

The FBI’s worries also come in this context: We are the most-surveilled people of all time. The future George Orwell envisioned is here: Most of us carry on our person devices that allow government to track our every movement (encryption doesn’t change that). Phone calls can be intercepted, cameras on the street watch what we’re doing, and almost all of our data are in the cloud. Apple may have struck a small blow for privacy but really, the FBI needn’t worry. Our secrets are still quite few.

This column originally appeared in The Boston Sunday Globe on October 5, 2014.