As he himself regularly points out, Ned Lamont came to the governor's office from the private sector. He has found many key advisors and commissioners among entrepreneurs and philanthropists. He is comfortable with the way business does business, meaning not always out in the open where competitors could profit from proprietary information. He likes his cards close to his cardigan.

Finding and making use of expertise is one of the governor's strengths, such as when he marshaled experts in medicine, public health, congregate care, underserved communities and social services to advise on best practices for managing the Covid pandemic and getting Connecticut residents vaccinated.

After four years as governor, however, and embarking on a re-election campaign, Ned Lamont has topped up his resume. His most recent and relevant experience has gone beyond that of a successful businessman. Now his is the CV of a public official who, in the past, had his own business. If he is re-elected in November, it will be by voters who have become familiar with his civic leadership and mostly approve of it.

And whether he wins or loses, throughout 2022 he will be rounding out four intense years that ought to season a person's outlook. An elected official ought to be even more valuable to the public because of what he or she has learned and put to good use.

As Candidate Lamont contemplates what he brings to his next campaign that he did not have to offer in 2018, Governor Lamont ought to reconsider his stance on transparency in the people's business. Anything less is patronizing. The governor's folksy style may hide it, but it's there. 

In his most recent conversation with The Day Editorial Board, the governor mentioned that people seem to have an "antipathy" for public-private partnerships. The subject was the quasi-public Connecticut Port Authority and the funding of the State Contracting Standards Board, which Lamont's budget held to the same level that has paid for a staff of two. He considers the board's work a duplication of functions performed by state auditors ("Do you know how many auditors we have? A hundred!") and the procurement office in the Department of Administrative Services. Some legislators want to move the board from the executive branch to legislative oversight, however, and he may choose to compromise.

Antipathy is a pretty good word to describe the popular feeling about arrangements between public servants and private interests. It is not the combination of public and private that bothers people about a statutorily recognized quasi-public agency like the Connecticut Port Authority. It's the coziness.

To cure antipathy — and comply with the state's Freedom of Information law, which he often chooses to ignore — all the governor has to do is instruct his administration and the quasi-public agencies to be readily transparent within the FOI framework. Coziness evaporates in sunlight like PDA in front of one's grandparents. 

Transparency won't affect proprietary information because the law gives qualified protection to ongoing negotiations, certain personnel matters, and other exemptions. Think of it as an incentive to keep people honest when there's a temptation to cross the line in small or large matters. How will it play in Plainfield?

"I like quasis," the governor told the editorial board, "but ya gotta know what you're doing."

Precisely. Not only do the public and private members of a quasi-public entity — like the Connecticut Port Authority — need to know what they're doing, as the governor meant; but the people gotta know what their officials are up to.

People would vote for that.

Lisa McGinley is a member of The Day Editorial Board.