Cities get built and are transformed by deliberate action. The places and features of urban life that communities enjoy, and perhaps take for granted, exist because of the inspiration and persistence of a handful of people who chose to make a difference when they could.
Change happens, places are built, opportunities are captured or missed, because of the people who happened to inhabit, for a brief time, the worlds of political and civic power. Many people contribute to the history of a place, labor behind the scenes, and understand the importance of getting things done without worrying too much about getting the credit.
If you take a walk downtown, through Leventhal Post Office Square Park to the concessions at the restored South Station, and then across the Seaport District to the harbor, with Logan Airport in the distance, you would be experiencing the work of many people, but much of it exists because of the inspiration and drive of one man: Bob Weinberg.
Bob came to Boston in the late 1960s with no expectations of staying here, but he was asked by a friend to interview with the new mayor, Kevin White. He became chief of the mayor’s policy team, and shared the burden of the job with Barney Frank, White’s executive assistant. Weinberg quickly became a major influencer of public policy, combining a strong intellect with a keen strategic instinct and progressive values. He set an example for how to skillfully navigate the tightly held political and business worlds of the city, achieving outcomes that made an immediate difference then, and that we still benefit from today.
Bob was among a small handful of people who changed the direction of Massport, transforming the agency from one that literally bulldozed its way to growth and expansion at the expense of neighboring communities to one that thrived while engaging the communities in a positive, mutually beneficial dialogue. Former governor Mike Dukakis appointed Weinberg as chairman of the Massport board, and Bob used that role to great effect. His partnership with Massport’s then-executive director, Dave Davis, remains one of the great examples of how talented people who might otherwise compete with one another can collaborate for the public good.
When I interviewed Bob for my book on Massport, he told me that his great challenge in the 1970s was finding “a sweet spot where you can make things better for most people, but you don’t hurt anyone. This was the opposite of Massport’s policy [at the time].”
Weinberg’s approach to public policy was based not on the Robert Moses “you must break eggs to make omelets” approach, but on something called Pareto Optimality, a concept where you strive to improve systems to the point where it’s impossible to improve the circumstances of any one person without degrading the circumstances of another person. Applying Pareto Optimality in the context of public policy is both politically smart and morally correct, yet too often it is overlooked by decision-makers who think it’s more important to flex their political muscle than it is to strive for win-win outcomes.
Bob was the creative force behind the creation of Post Office Square Park, the lovely urban oasis that is a model for urban public space. A popular urban refuge, it was built over a large underground parking facility to replace an eyesore of a mid-20th-century garage. The park’s operations and maintenance are paid from the garage revenues, ensuring a high-quality outcome. It’s rare for a parking garage to facilitate a major enhancement of the urban public realm; this one does.
Among other things, Bob established a school of public management at Boston University and developed, with Norman Leventhal, the innovative concession area at South Station that integrates and complements the historic multimodal terminal building. His strategic prowess enabled him to preserve Massport’s commitment to reform at a time when it might have been lost.
Boston today is a different place than it was in the 1970s: It’s more diverse, more inclusive, facing new challenges as we regain our collective footing from the pandemic disruptions of the past few years. The city remains fertile ground for talented people to make their mark and create their own legacies. Today’s political and civic leaders can learn important lessons from those who came before, those whose efforts led to lasting change and durable improvements.
As I write this reflection, Bob Weinberg is dealing with a terminal case of mesothelioma. It’s a difficult situation, but the qualities that once made him one of the city’s most impactful civic leaders remain in abundance. Bob’s time in Boston was lived in full, and we benefit from his work today, and future generations will continue to do so. He is an example of the kind of person Walt Whitman wrote about, of someone who embodied the “acme of things accomplished, an encloser of things to be.”
James Aloisi is a former Massachusetts secretary of transportation. He serves on the board of TransitMatters.