Still, Miller’s current travails point to a broader problem he faces as he ramps up for 2005. It’s a problem rooted in the inherent weaknesses of the post of speaker. On the one hand, a speaker enjoys the trappings of influence—a security detail, a city-funded minivan, a lavish City Hall spread—and these perks, naturally, encourage him to think bigger. Yet it’s hard for speakers to earn promotion to a higher office. When Peter Vallone, a speaker for fifteen years, ran for mayor in 2001, he came in third in the Democratic primary.

That’s because a speaker starts with a huge built-in disadvantage. He’s won election only in a single council district; his colleagues elect him to the council’s top post. The result is that a speaker’s power flows from his control over his council members; he hasn’t forged a bond with the public. In short, nobody knows who the heck he is.

The mayor’s power, by contrast, is rooted in his daily interaction with New Yorkers, and in their sense of his record. This tactical imbalance makes it easier for the mayor—and the tabs—to define the speaker in the public mind before he can craft a citywide image for himself. Which is exactly what’s happening right now—Bloomberg, in tandem with the press, is pigeonholing Miller, right out of the gate, as a youthful, inexperienced pol who lacks the management savvy to be mayor.

What can Miller do? The only way the speaker can raise his profile is to criticize the mayor as much as possible, on as many issues as possible. But that carries risks, too: It allows the mayor to paint Miller as a puppy yapping at his heels. If that’s been easy for Bloomberg to do, it doesn’t only have to do with Miller’s youth. It’s inherent in his job. And it’s a problem that Miller will be extremely hard-pressed to solve.

Related:

• Archive: “The City Politic”
• Articles by Greg Sargent
• Table of Contents: Jun 21, 2004 issue of New York | Subscribe!