Bye-bye, Bloomberg

IN ONE corner of Michael Bloomberg’s open-plan City Hall offices, near the digital clock counting down his final days as New York’s mayor, hangs a large cartoon cut-out of a helicopter. Hanging from its cockpit window is a towel bearing the word “Bermuda”. This is a somewhat edgy gag. Thanks to the financial-information empire that he founded, Mr Bloomberg is one of the richest men in the world: Forbes puts his wealth at $31 billion. Naturally, he owns a real-life helicopter and a weekend home in Bermuda. It is not known just how often he flies to the balmy island to play golf. Though the mayor has brought transparency to once-murky city government (a favourite Bloomberg motto is: “In God we trust. Everyone else, bring data”), he does not feel a politician’s urge to share his inner life with voters.

New Yorkers have weathered a dozen eventful years with their mayor, spanning the aftermath of terror attacks, the financial crash and Hurricane Sandy. They elected him three times, first as a Republican, then as an independent, after campaigns of stupendous, lopsided expense (Mr Bloomberg shovelled more than $100m of his own money into his final re-election). His wealth frees him from corrupting special interests: he never has to beg for campaign donations. It has also spared him the usefully humbling experience of having to beg a truculent city for its love. He is a chief executive, not a leader who makes voters swoon.