Endless amounts of snow. How a series of blizzards buried a governor and a mayor.
Boston Mayor Marty Walsh has taken to criticizing his constituents’ latest craze: snow-diving from roofs and apartment ledges into the massive drifts that have choked the city for weeks. “Stop the nonsense!” Walsh pleaded this week. But judging from what locals are saying about him, Walsh might wish he could disappear under a snow mound too, along with Gov. Charlie Baker.
It’s been a fast fall into snowy political ignominy for Walsh, who’s in just his second 
year on the job and who only recently—before the plague of endless snow began—joked that he hoped never to hold another press conference until “the Red Sox win the World Series.” There’s been little sympathy for him: This is, after all, Massachusetts, a state beset by historic snowfalls, providing a political opportunity for prepared pols to get a lot of TV face-time and supply the public with earnest helpings of competency and caring. Instead, for Walsh and Baker, it has proved to be the winter of everyone’s discontent—and for local and state officials everywhere, a textbook case of how not to manage a weather emergency.
Today the local economy is reeling, budgets are shot, criticism is mounting—and the snow crisis is still here. The accumulated snow and brutal cold have caused a humiliating collapse of the region’s public transit system, leaving workers stranded, businesses shuttered and many questioning the city’s judgment in believing it could possibly host the 2024 Olympics. Boston’s ego—never that strong to begin with—has taken a big hit too.
Until mid-January, New England’s weather had seemed remarkably mild, with little snowfall and folks starting to think they might make it through the season unscathed. But late January saw the arrival of the first blizzard, which left 29.5 inches on the ground. Five storms followed in quick succession, including another blizzard that began on Valentine’s Day. The total snowfall in less than three weeks was 90.8 inches—an unprecedented amount.
When that first storm threatened, both Baker and Walsh—unaware of the tribulations to come—went into full-blown crisis management mode, set to prove to those that elected him that they had the right stuff to manage whatever came along. Each appeared on camera—Walsh at City Hall, Baker at the Framingham headquarters of the Massachusetts Emergency Management Agency—clad in weather-appropriate gear, surrounded by serious-looking officials and sign-language interpreters, offering up nostrums about safety and preparedness.
It made for good theater but quickly deteriorated. In Walsh’s case, cleanup after the blizzard was, by the lights of many, poorly managed. Chalk it up, perhaps, to rookie mistakes. Despite parking bans, roads weren’t plowed to the curb and the necessary next step— picking up the stuff and trucking it away—was done haphazardly. On top of that, the New England Patriots had won the Superbowl and even as a second storm dumped more snow, Walsh insisted on holding the traditional rolling rally through city streets. Residents were aghast and Walsh got his back up, making tin-eared remarks denigrating any who dared disagree. The online commentary was harsh; people figured downtown snow removal to make way for the Patriots diverted resources from their own neighborhoods.
In a more generous winter, where warm weather often follows cold and thus allows some melting, these missteps might not have mattered much. But the cold didn’t relent and subsequent storms just made more obvious the shortfalls in cleaning up the first. Walsh, to his credit, eventually got the message. He has since focused unerringly on what has to be a wintertime mayor’s number one job: Getting the streets cleared. Still, even major thoroughfares operate with one fewer lane than usual and two-way side streets are effectively one-way, leading to standoffs between drivers approaching each other. In one neighborhood, South Boston, the city fixed that problem by declaring formerly two-way streets to be one-way. That worked because the street pattern in Southie is a grid. In other neighborhoods with more random road patterns, there’s no such easy solution.
Meanwhile, Baker—who just took office January 8—faced his own problems. A Republican in the true-blue Bay State, Baker won his job largely on claims of competence; in previous lives he had held senior positions in state government and turned around a troubled health maintenance organization. As the snow started falling, the region’s public transit system started failing. The system is managed by the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority (nicknamed the “T”), a quasi-independent state entity. Governors appoint the T’s board, but newcomer Baker was left with holdovers from the prior administration of Democrat Deval Patrick. Trying to slough off responsibility for ever-mounting delays, Baker blamed T general manager Beverly Scott. “She doesn’t report to me,” he said. Technically correct, perhaps, but his fingerpointing made for ugly politics, raising questions about his leadership.
Then things got worse. As a storm pummeled the region the evening of February 9, the entire system—buses, subways and commuter rail—was suddenly shut down, stranding Monday workers trying to make their way home. It remained closed the following day. The public was furious. T manager Scott—pushed, perhaps, or maybe just fed up—then resigned. She stays around until April, but nevertheless has effectively handed the public transit mess to Baker.
The region’s second blizzard on Sunday, February 15, compelled the system to shut down yet again. Even now numerous lines have yet-to re-open; officials say a return to normal could be weeks away. All of this in turn makes city streets even more clogged, as frustrated commuters turn to their cars instead of mass transit. Businesses – particularly the small businesses so beloved by pols from both sides of the aisle—are taking a hit. So too are workers, especially those on hourly wages or in service industries; commuters regularly offer up tales of nightmarish delays or missing work altogether. An angry Baker gave voice to everyone’s frustration, “I mean, I’m sort of done with excuses, okay?” Actions, though, would seem better than words.
Granted, the T’s problems really aren’t the governor’s fault. People point to systematic underinvestment in maintenance and upgrades, to wasted spending and over-ambitious expansion, and to a culture resistant to demands for efficiency and effectiveness. Those are problems decades in the making. Still, just as Barak Obama didn’t cause the Great Recession, it still became his to solve. So too with Baker.
The obvious question, once the snow settles, so to speak, is the political one: How will the winter of 2015 affect Walsh and Baker? Chicago Mayor Michael Bilandic famously lost to challenger Jane Byrne after a livid electorate blamed him for bungling cleanup after the blizzard of 1979. His defeat has become an object lesson for every politician: Voters care most about what happens on their streets and sidewalks. Get that right and you should be OK. Get it wrong and you’re in trouble.
Most fair-minded residents survey the stunningly high levels of snow and recognize that this winter has been exceptional. In Chicago, the rap on Bilandic was that he didn’t seem to be trying. In Massachusetts, early errors notwithstanding, Walsh and Baker now seem determined to do what they can. Walsh is happy to cite the 286,000 miles plowed so far; Baker has deployed the National Guard to clear the tracks.
The test for both likely comes next year: If winter 2016 is handled like winter 2015, their careers might be doomed. Some argue this year a once-in-lifetime exception. Others think the polar vortex blamed for the massive storms may well be a permanent feature, a consequence of global climate change. For that reason, Walsh might want to spend some time learning from Montreal. Its ability to clear its streets is the stuff of legend. (Then too, it also has a snow removal budget almost seven times that of Boston.) For his part, Baker needs to gain control of the T, perhaps through state legislation or for some form of receivership. Continued failures could wreak permanent havoc to the state’s economy and, of course, set him up for a challenge from Democrats who say they can do better.
For now though, both men are more focused on the present. Walsh—$35 million spent removing snow and counting—still has trucks and plows on the street. Baker is pushing for quick fixes to bring public transit back on line. And making their work all the more urgent: Yet another storm is predicted for this Sunday.
So the mayor might want to stop worrying about people diving into the snow—and focus on getting it cleaned up.
This column was first published in Politico on February 19, 2015.