E-Mail This Article to a Friend The Deval Patrick Show (continued)

SOME VOTERS might dismiss this nascent vision as naive and New Age-y: Deval Patrick as the protector of the poor and sick, Deval Patrick as the instigator of a new civic conversation, Deval Patrick as the Teen Whisperer. But others — disillusioned by Mitt Romney’s pedestrian priorities (streamlining state government, cutting taxes) yet uninspired by Tom Reilly (see "Premature Great Expectations," News and Features, January 21) — might be more susceptible to Patrick’s lofty rhetoric and quiet charisma.

Consider, too, that with former Clinton labor secretary Robert Reich ruling out a repeat of his 2002 insurgent candidacy earlier this week, the idealistic progressives who flocked to Reich may begin searching for another candidate to back. If and when they do, Patrick could be a natural fit. For starters, he’s anti-death-penalty and pro-gay-marriage. (Patrick served in the Clinton administration when the federal Defense of Marriage Act was passed, in 1996, but prominent gay activists say he was phased out of the debate after making his opposition clear; today, Patrick calls the DOMA a "mistake.") In contrast, Reilly — like Romney — favors the death penalty. And, after gay marriage became legal last year, the attorney general alienated the gay community by using an obscure state law to prevent same-sex couples from outside Massachusetts from wedding here.

Furthermore, Patrick successfully argued for Clinton’s support of affirmative action when the president considered jettisoning it in 1996. Factor in the subtler details of his personal history that have yet to emerge — Patrick’s father abandoning his family to play the saxophone with Thelonius Monk and Sun Ra; Patrick being told to bring a "jacket" to Milton Academy and showing up with a windbreaker instead; Patrick filling out his Harvard Law School application in the Sudanese desert while working for the United Nations; Patrick suing then-governor Bill Clinton as an attorney with the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund; Patrick joining Hill & Barlow, the former law firm of governors Mike Dukakis and Bill Weld, as partner at the age of 30; Patrick leading the Justice Department’s inquiry into the rash of arson in black Southern churches in the mid 1990s; Patrick chairing former attorney general Scott Harshbarger’s good-government gubernatorial campaign in 1998 — and he could easily become a darling of progressive voters. This, in turn, could make him a genuine threat to Reilly in the Democratic primary — and his personal wealth (during Patrick’s years as a corporate general counsel, his annual earnings approached $1 million) and ready-made nationwide fundraising network could help him neutralize Reilly’s early financial advantage.

Still, many political observers remain skeptical. Some argue that Patrick’s nonexistent name-recognition will be a huge liability if he jumps into the race. Others suggest that, as a novice candidate, Patrick would face an incredibly steep learning curve. "His big Achilles’ heel is that he’s never run for anything," says one Republican strategist. "Look at the rich-businessman model Bill Weld and Mitt Romney used to run in Massachusetts. Weld ran for AG in 1978 and got trounced before he was able to make a successful run for governor in 1990, and Romney ran for US Senate in 1994 and got trounced before he was able to successfully run for governor in 2002." A prominent Democrat puts it more bluntly: "You get instant publicity when you talk about running for governor. If Mickey Mouse said he was going to run, he’d get instant ink. These things don’t mean that much to me."

And maybe they shouldn’t. Patrick’s hypothetical candidacy could be a short-lived trial balloon, akin to the Reverend Charles Stith’s abortive congressional candidacy last year. Even if he decides to run — and that’s a very big if — he could flounder in the Democratic-primary process. Then again, he could successfully mobilize anybody-but-Reilly Democrats and give the attorney general a tough primary test. He could be the John Silber of 2006, a genuine outsider who outmaneuvers members of the local Democratic establishment and garners the nomination. Or — as far-fetched as it seems today — he could become the man who ends 16 years of Republican gubernatorial control and drives a stake through the heart of Mitt Romney’s presidential ambitions. Last week, Patrick got people talking. Now he needs to make up his mind.

Adam Reilly can be reached at areilly[a]phx.com