The questions Gotbaum is trying to answer these days, however, aren’t about the view. One question is whether in her nearly two terms in office as the city’s elected watchdog, she has done enough of the other kind of oversight—of city officials, agencies, programs and policies—that the public advocate is supposed to do. Another question is whether, given the public advocate’s limited powers and budget, the office is truly capable of performing that watchdog role.
Gotbaum has geared up to answer both the broader question and her own critics. Her staff has prepared a Power Point briefing on her accomplishments and the challenges she’s faced. She’s presented it in individual meetings with the men running to succeed her. As she meets with a reporter, she’s armed with that slideshow as well as a typed set of notes on topics like “What I’m working on for the rest of the year.”
But as Gotbaum works through her final months, the office she holds is approaching a crossroads after nearly 16 years in existence. Its staff and budget are roughly half what they were in 1993, its powers are fewer and its media profile has shrunk. Despite these trends, a large field of candidates has assembled to try to succeed Gotbaum, including former Public Advocate Mark Green running for his old job, civil liberties lawyer Norman Siegel seeking the post for a third time, Queens City Councilman Eric Gioia and Brooklyn City Councilman Bill de Blasio.
The prize those candidates are aiming for could change almost as soon as it's in the winner's grasp: A charter revision commission likely to be launched in 2010 will probably consider the perennial question of whether New York City needs a public advocate and, if so, what its role should be. Theoretically, the next public advocate could see his office disappear or his authority expand—with both scenarios affecting the balance of power in a city that is likely to have in place a powerful third-term mayor countered only by a cooperative City Council.
The conversation about who, if anyone, should be the next public advocate is unique to New York City, which is believed to be the only place in the world with a popularly-elected ombudsman.
The evolution of the office
“Public advocate” is actually a new name for an office older than the modern city. Its earliest ancestor was the president of the Board of Aldermen—a citywide, popularly elected post that dates to 1831. When the five boroughs consolidated in 1898, the president of the Board of Aldermen (a body that passed laws) got a seat on the Board of Estimate (a more powerful mini-legislature that dominated budget and land use decisions) where he had voting power equal to the mayor and comptroller, who each had two votes compared to one apiece for the borough presidents. When the Board of Aldermen became the City Council in 1936, the president’s title changed accordingly, and the post gained the power to break tie votes in the Council.
The city decided to revise the charter once more in 1975, and some wanted to get rid of the president’s post. But an opposing faction sought instead to strengthen the office to become a vehicle for citizen complaints about government, and it prevailed. The City Council president was given limited powers to review how city agencies handled citizen complaints, but the people who held the office during and after this charter change expanded the role to include collecting their own citizen complaints and investigating systemic problems.
The office’s authority began to shrink, however, in 1989, when the charter was reformed to eliminate the Board of Estimate, and with it the City Council president's ability to vote on the budget and land use decisions—the office's most significant power. As in 1975, there were calls to eliminate the City Council president as well. The argument had a powerful opponent. “If it wasn't for Andy Stein,” says former Council leader Peter Vallone, Sr., “there would be no office at all.” The incumbent Council President, Andrew Stein—who had aspirations of becoming mayor —argued forcefully for its survival, noting the tens of thousands of complaints that he had handled. He was joined by charter commission members who wanted a high-profile check on the power of the mayor with the backing of a citywide constituency.




