ALBANY
— Just when Micah C. Lasher thought it was safe to finally sleep one
recent morning, three words appeared in his in-box: “It’s a sham.”
Mr.
Lasher had stayed up all night helping write a bill to increase the
number of charter schools in New York, a cornerstone of Mayor Michael R.
Bloomberg’s education agenda. But amid the frenzy, a highly contentious
provision had slipped by him: the State University of New York would
lose its power to approve charter schools.
Charter
advocates, including the one who had complained via e-mail, were
seething. Mr. Lasher raced to the State Capitol, and in a feverish two
hours of speed-dialing, helped to broker an agreement among lawmakers,
the governor and the mayor to restore the university’s role.
“The adrenaline was pumping,” Mr. Lasher said. “This needed to be nipped in the bud immediately.”
As Mr.
Bloomberg’s chief negotiator, Mr. Lasher, 28, is the wrinkle-free face
of City Hall, balancing the roles of bulldog, policy wonk and peacemaker
for a mayor who is not shy about comparing lawmakers to lunatics.
“He
can go to war with you on Monday and break bread with you on Tuesday,”
Austin Shafran, a spokesman for the Senate Democrats, said of Mr.
Lasher.
In an office near the State
Capitol, Mr. Lasher and eight staff members scrutinize every significant
piece of paper floating through the Legislature.
They
assemble color-coded memos — yellow to support, pink to oppose — on
topics like playground equipment and workplace harassment.
Then
there is the politicking. On a recent day, just when Mr. Lasher thought
that a long-shot effort to eliminate seniority protection for teachers
was slowly picking up support, his BlackBerry hummed with news: two
lawmakers were having second thoughts.
“Are you kidding me?” he repeated in
disbelief, adding an expletive the second time, even though the bill’s
chances of passing were slim.
While
Mr. Lasher is praised as an honest dealmaker with an encyclopedic
knowledge of policy, some lawmakers, particularly those critical of Mr.
Bloomberg, say his intensity can be stifling.
“He
can be a real nag,” said Kevin Sheekey, who, when he served as deputy
mayor, had hired Mr. Lasher. “He’s constantly pushing. That’s very
helpful in the job.”
Mr. Lasher, still plump-cheeked and bright-eyed, has yet to get a
driver’s license. Despite his age, however, he has built an impressive
résumé. He was a secret weapon to Manhattan politicians as a teenager,
and in college he created a powerhouse consulting firm.
As a child
growing up in the Upper West Side, he made a name for himself as a
magician. He performed tricks like the Ambitious Coin, in which a
half-dollar vanishes, on NBC’s “Today” show. And by age 14, he had published a 224-page book of tricks.
The
youngest member of a neighborhood club of Democrats, he was responsible
for cleaning out the clubhouse. Elected officials, taken aback by his
zeal and shrewd mind, were soon approaching him for advice.
“He
demonstrated to me more political acumen than people who spent a
lifetime in this business,” said Scott M. Stringer, the Manhattan
borough president and a former assemblyman, who relied on Mr. Lasher as
an informal adviser when he was 17.
The
prodigy loved winning, and he became so emotionally attached to his
candidates that after one of them, Deborah Glick, lost a race for
Manhattan borough president in 1997, he retreated to a corner of a West
Village restaurant and cried.
He
developed his political muscles at Stuyvesant High School, where he
warred with school administrators as editor of the student paper, The
Spectator.
A long-simmering conflict escalated
when he published an April Fool’s edition that mocked teachers and
criticized seniority rules. The school promptly shut down the paper.
What
followed was a classic Lasher crusade: an all-consuming campaign to
restore free speech. Mr. Lasher and his allies flooded the school with
fliers and petitions, forcing the administration to eventually give in.
Amid
Stuyvesant’s overachievers, Mr. Lasher was no star student. He enrolled
at New York University, where in the wee hours of the morning he built a
political consulting firm.
The result
was SKDKnickerbocker, now one of the city’s most prominent firms, which
created fliers for Barack Obama’s presidential campaign and counts
among its clients 1199/S.E.I.U. United Healthcare Workers East.
At
Knickerbocker, he helped manage 76 campaigns — roughly three-quarters
of them successful — and practiced a distinct brand of politics:
cunning, idealistic and fiercely competitive. But his ardor has
sometimes gotten him into trouble.
In 2001, when he
was 19, Mr. Lasher helped design a now-infamous handout leaflet that
contributed to the downfall of Mark Green, who was seeking the
Democratic nomination for mayor. The handout included a controversial
New York Post cartoon that graphically depicted Mr. Green’s rival, Fernando Ferrer, kissing up to the Rev. Al Sharpton. Mr. Green won the nomination, but with the party not united behind him, he narrowly lost the election to Mr. Bloomberg.
In
an interview, Mr. Lasher described the episode as “something that I
deeply regret being a part of,” emphasizing his inexperience at the
time.
Mr. Lasher likes to say he has picked candidates he believed in, and aside from Mr. Bloomberg, they were all Democrats.
He
is a devout liberal who winced at the mayor’s effort to change term
limits to allow himself to run for a third term, friends say.
But last year,
when Mr. Sheekey invited him to join the mayor’s Department of Education
and help make it more politically astute, Mr. Lasher accepted.
Last
summer, he coordinated the successful effort to have the Legislature
renew mayoral authority over the city’s public schools.
Mr.
Lasher enjoyed working at the Department of Education so much that he
three times turned down an offer to become director of state legislative
affairs.
“He was really pushed into
the job,” said Mr. Sheekey, who is an executive at Bloomberg L.P. “This
is an office that is more important than any single city commissioner.”
In
Albany, Mr. Lasher has become a master multitasker. His recent duties
have included finding ways to entice television crews to film in New
York and resolving a dispute between Apple and legislators over how it
sells its iPad.
Mr.
Lasher has worked hard to counterbalance his boss’s sharp tongue. When
he learned in April that the mayor was planning to denounce a proposal
to cut property taxes as “craziness,” Mr. Lasher was instantly on the
phone with Senate Democrats, who had championed the idea, taking the
heat.
“The mayor can be a little
harsh,” said Assemblyman David I. Weprin, a Democrat who represents
eastern Queens. “You really want someone in the position who can smooth
things over.”
Mr. Lasher’s quick rise
has fed rumors that he may be gearing up for a political race of his
own. He had hoped to run for the City Council in 2009, but he abandoned
his plans after term limits were extended.
Now,
Mr. Lasher says he has made no definite decisions about his future,
though he has not ruled out vying for a Council seat in 2013.
“Do
I want to succeed and do interesting things and continue to take on
more responsibility? Absolutely,” he said. “Do I have some grand plan
for what that’s going to look like? Absolutely not.”
For
now, Albany beckons. The budget is two months overdue, summer is
approaching and the mayor is fuming. Whether a young political wizard
can emerge as an effective ambassador for a city of eight million
remains to be seen.
“The chick just hatched,” State Senator Bill Perkins of Harlem said. “Let’s see what happens when it becomes a real rooster.”
A correction was made on June 9, 2010
:
An
article on Monday about Micah C. Lasher, the chief negotiator in Albany
for Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, referred imprecisely to the
controversial use of a cartoon by the mayoral campaign of Mark Green in
2001. While the cartoon, depicting Fernando Ferrer and Al Sharpton, was
reprinted in a handout leaflet that Mr. Lasher helped design, it was not
part of an advertisement for television or for a print publication.
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