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President Trump’s tight grip on the GOP, long assumed to be an inevitable feature of American life (like gravity or the McRib’s seasonal return), has started to loosen.

Republicans are now openly defying him. The man who once ruled the GOP like a casino boss can’t even strong-arm Indiana Republicans into gerrymandering themselves properly.

This sort of resistance didn’t emerge overnight. It fermented like prison wine or bad ideas in a faculty lounge. First came the Iran bombing: an early shock that suggested “America First” might also mean “Israel First,” at least to the populist-nationalist camp inside the GOP.

Then came the effort to muffle the Jeffrey Epstein files, a notion so foreign to MAGA’s ethos that the subsequent drama, according to Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.), “ripped MAGA apart.”

Greene also expressed concern that the Affordable Care Act’s subsidies are set to lapse, and that Republicans have no plan to fix the imminent premium spikes — an occurrence that threatens to alienate the very working-class voters that MAGA now insists it represents.

All the while, another MAGA soap opera was churning. Tucker Carlson decided to “platform” white nationalist and Holocaust denier Nick Fuentes, leading to an outcry of criticism that prompted the Heritage Foundation’s president to defend them (sparking another Republican “civil war” subplot).

The common thread in these stories is the sense that Trump’s days are numbered. The question of “Who gets MAGA when Dad can no longer operate the remote?” has become unavoidable.

True, pundits have been prematurely writing Trump’s political obituary since he first came down that escalator. But it feels different this time. The question is why.

There are likely numerous reasons, but I’ve zeroed in on the five that I think are the most important.

The first, and most obvious, reason is that Trump is now a lame duck, and everyone knows it.

Rep. Thomas Massie (R-Ky.) made the logic explicit when, during the Epstein-file fight, he warned his colleagues: “Donald Trump can protect you in red districts right now … but by 2030, he’s not going to be president, and you will have voted to protect pedophiles if you don’t vote to release those files.”

Once politicians and influencers start imagining their post-Trump resumes, his spell over them shatters. This probably explains why Trump has dangled the idea of an unconstitutional third term.

The second reason we are seeing Trump’s grip weaken is that, frankly, Trump’s not popular. In fact, according to a new Reuters poll, his approval rating is just 38%.

This rating plummets when it comes to the issues that divide Republicans. For example, according to that same survey, a mere 20% of American adults — including just 44% of Republicans — approve of Trump’s handling of the Epstein files.

The third reason is that Trump is increasingly isolated from the constituency that once fine-tuned his political instincts.

The Trump of 2016-2020 essentially crowdsourced his political instincts at rallies, where he learned to read the room like a comedian. Now he’s physically isolated and increasingly out of touch with his base. His inner circle consists of ideologues and billionaires — people who don’t worry about the price of milk.

So when Trump insists the economy is thriving, as he hosts Gatsby-themed soirees and tears down the East Wing of the White House to build a new ballroom, populists look up from their grocery bills, spy Trump on TV meeting with the Saudi crown prince, and are suddenly flooded with buyer’s remorse. This creates an opening, and the movement’s would-be heirs can sense it.

Of course, Trump could conceivably adjust his policies and rhetoric in an effort to restore his populist appeal.

But the fourth reason for Trump’s loss of power within the GOP concerns his mortality: Trump is the oldest person to win the presidency in U.S. history. He has had two “annual” physicals this calendar year — including an MRI no one will adequately explain (this is not part of a routine physical).

This brings us to the fifth and final reason the cracks are starting to show: Trump’s 2024 coalition was always like a game of Jenga.

It was a convenient alliance of disparate factions and individuals whose interests converged because Trump’s charisma (and lack of a coherent political worldview) was like the glue holding incompatible pieces together. But as that binding force weakens, the contradictions become clear, and open warfare is inevitable.

For years now, Trump imposed peace the way an aging rock frontman keeps peace within a band. But once that star starts forgetting lyrics or showing up late, his bandmates start imagining solo careers.

We’re watching MAGA realize that the Trump era is ending, and that the next battle is about what — or who — will fill the vacuum when he’s gone.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”

As the USS Gerald Ford aircraft carrier sails to the Caribbean, the U.S. military continues striking drug-carrying boats off the Venezuelan coast and the Trump administration debates what to do about Venezuelan dictator Nicolás Maduro, one thing seems certain: Venezuela and the western hemisphere would all be better off if Maduro packed his bags and spent his remaining years in exile.

This is certainly what Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado is working toward. This year’s Nobel Prize laureate has spent much of her time recently in the U.S. lobbying policymakers to squeeze Maduro into vacating power. Constantly at risk of detention in her own country, Machado is granting interviews and dialing into conferences to advocate for regime change. Her talking points are clearly tailored for the Trump administration: Maduro is the head of a drug cartel that is poisoning Americans; his dictatorship rests on weak pillars; and the forces of democracy inside Venezuela are fully prepared to seize the mantle once Maduro is gone. “We are ready to take over government,” Machado told Bloomberg News in an October interview.

But as the old saying goes, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. While there’s no disputing that Maduro is a despot and a fraud who steals elections, U.S. policymakers can’t simply take what Machado is saying for granted. Washington learned this the hard way in the lead-up to the war in Iraq, when an opposition leader named Ahmed Chalabi sold U.S. policymakers a bill of goods about how painless rebuilding a post-Saddam Hussein Iraq would be. We all know how the story turned out — the United States stumbled into an occupation that sucked up U.S. resources, unleashed unpredicted regional consequences and proved more difficult than its proponents originally claimed.

To be fair, Machado is no Chalabi. The latter was a fraudster; the former is the head of an opposition movement whose candidate, Edmundo González Urrutia, won two-thirds of the vote during the 2024 Venezuelan presidential election (Maduro claimed victory anyway and forced González into exile). But just because her motives are good doesn’t mean we shouldn’t question her assertions.

Would regime change in Caracas produce the Western-style democracy Machado and her supporters anticipate? None of us can rule it out. But the Trump administration can’t bank on this as the outcome of a post-Maduro future. Other scenarios are just as likely, if not more so — and some of them could lead to greater violence for Venezuelans and more problems for U.S. policy in Latin America.

The big problem with regime change is you can never be entirely sure what will happen after the incumbent leader is removed. Such operations are by their very nature dangerous and destabilizing; political orders are deliberately shattered, the haves become have-nots, and constituencies used to holding the reins of power suddenly find themselves as outsiders. When Hussein was deposed in Iraq, the military officers, Ba’ath Party loyalists and regime-tied sycophants who ruled the roost for nearly a quarter-century were forced to make do with an entirely new situation. The Sunni-dominated structure was overturned, and members of the Shia majority, previously oppressed, were now eagerly taking their place at the top of the system. This, combined with the U.S. decision to bar anyone associated with the old regime from serving in state positions, fed the ingredients for a large-scale insurgency that challenged the new government, precipitated a civil war and killed tens of thousands of Iraqis.

Regime change can also create total absences of authority, as it did in Libya after the 2011 U.S.-NATO intervention there. Much like Maduro today, Moammar Kadafi was a reviled figure whose demise was supposed to pave the way for a democratic utopia in North Africa. The reality was anything but. Instead, Kadafi’s removal sparked conflict between Libya’s major tribal alliances, competing governments and the proliferation of terrorist groups in a country just south of the European Union. Fifteen years later, Libya remains a basket case of militias, warlords and weak institutions.

Unlike Iraq and Libya, Venezuela has experience in democratic governance. It held relatively free and fair elections in the past and doesn’t suffer from the types of sectarian rifts associated with states in the Middle East.

Still, this is cold comfort for those expecting a democratic transition. Indeed, for such a transition to be successful, the Venezuelan army would have to be on board with it, either by sitting on the sidelines as Maduro’s regime collapses, actively arresting Maduro and his top associates, or agreeing to switch its support to the new authorities. But again, this is a tall order, particularly for an army whose leadership is a core facet of the Maduro regime’s survival, has grown used to making obscene amounts of money from illegal activity under the table and whose members are implicated in human rights abuses. The very same elites who profited handsomely from the old system would have to cooperate with the new one. This doesn’t appear likely, especially if their piece of the pie will shrink the moment Maduro leaves.

Finally, while regime change might sound like a good remedy to the problem that is Venezuela, it might just compound the difficulties over time. Although Maduro’s regime’s remit is already limited, its complete dissolution could usher in a free-for-all between elements of the former government, drug trafficking organizations and established armed groups like the Colombian National Liberation Army, which have long treated Venezuela as a base of operations. Any post-Maduro government would have difficulty managing all of this at the same time it attempts to restructure the Venezuelan economy and rebuild its institutions. The Trump administration would then be facing the prospect of Venezuela serving as an even bigger source of drugs and migration, the very outcome the White House is working to prevent.

In the end, María Corina Machado could prove to be right. But she is selling a best-case assumption. The U.S. shouldn’t buy it. Democracy after Maduro is possible but is hardly the only possible result — and it’s certainly not the most likely.

Daniel R. DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities.

Republicans are licking their wounds after Tuesday’s ballot box defeats. But there is a lesson to be learned here. The various elections in New York City, New Jersey and Virginia, viewed collectively, reminded us yet again of a perennial political truth: Americans still care first and foremost about their wallets.

Culture war-type issues often generate the most salacious headlines — and many of the Trump administration’s fights on these fronts, such as immigration enforcement and higher education reform, are just and necessary. Still, the economy remains the top political issue. Unless Republicans get more serious about advancing an actionable economic agenda to provide real relief to middle- and working-class Americans, the party risks losing even more ground in next year’s midterm elections.

When voters went to the polls in New York City, New Jersey and Virginia, they were often asking the simplest, most urgent questions: Can I pay the rent? Can I fill up my truck at the pump? Can I fill the fridge? Will my job still exist next year? Do I have reliable healthcare for my children? Across too many districts and communities, those answers remain uneasy. Inflation, while well down from its Biden-era peak, is still stubbornly higher than the Fed’s 2% target. Purchasing power is still eroded, and cost-of-living anxieties persist for far too many.

For Republicans, this is both a warning and an opportunity. Despite a concerted effort in recent years to rebrand as the party of the common man, including but hardly limited to Teamsters President Sean O’Brien getting a coveted speaking slot at last year’s Republican National Convention in Milwaukee, too many voters still associate the GOP with tax cuts for the donor class and a general indifference toward the tens of millions of Americans who live paycheck to paycheck. That’s the blunt truth. The perception of corruption in some of the highest corridors of power in Washington, especially when it comes to the influence wielded by the über-wealthy emirate of Qatar, doesn’t exactly assuage voters’ concerns.

If the GOP wants to regain the public’s trust, it must present a compelling vision of what a sound conservative economic stewardship entails in the 21st century.

That redefinition begins with a renewed focus on work, dignity and resilience. The Republican Party must build an economic narrative that centers on taming inflation, boosting wages, rebuilding America’s industrial base and greater healthcare security for the paycheck-to-paycheck class. Conservatives should pursue a pragmatic economic nationalism — one that ties together trade policy, manufacturing, energy production, workforce development and family formation. All proposed economic policies must be explained in concrete, local terms. The relevant questions each and every time should be: How does this policy tangibly benefit the average American, and how can the policy be messaged so that the benefit is clearly understood?

The voters Republicans need to reach are not tuning in to wonky policy seminars. They want results: lower energy bills, affordable groceries, job security and an economy that rewards hard work. The GOP must speak directly to these priorities with honesty and humility.

If economic anxiety persists through next fall’s midterms, voters will punish whichever party appears more indifferent to their struggles. The Trump administration and Republicans across the country need to get to work fast. That means more Trump-signed executive orders, within the confines of the law, that can provide real economic relief and security to the working men and women of America. And it certainly means a concerted congressional attempt to bolster the economic prospects of the middle and working classes, perhaps through the Senate’s annual budget reconciliation process.

Inflation must finally be tamed — including the Fed raising interest rates, contra Trump’s general easy-money instincts, if need truly be. Private health savings account access must be expanded and the ease of acquiring private healthcare must finally be divorced from the particular circumstances of one’s employment. More jobs and supply chains must be reshored. Concerns about child care affordability and parental leave availability must be addressed. And even more of our bountiful domestic energy must be extracted. These are just some of the various policies that voters might reward at the ballot box next fall.

Our searing cultural battles will continue — and they matter, greatly in fact. But when a family can’t afford its groceries or gas, such debates tend to fade into the background. Republicans must rebuild trust with voters on the most fundamental issue in American politics: the promise of economic opportunity and security.

It’s always dangerous to over-extrapolate and glean clear national lessons from a few local elections. But all three of the biggest recent races — for New York City mayor and for New Jersey and Virginia governors — had final winning margins for Democrats greater than most polling suggested. That seems like a clear enough rebuke. Accordingly, the Trump administration and Republicans across the country must deliver real economic results on the real economic issues facing the American people. If they don’t present a compelling economic vision and execute that vision capably and efficiently, there likely will be even greater electoral damage next fall.

That could all but doom the remainder of the Trump presidency. And what a disappointment that would be.

Josh Hammer’s latest book is “Israel and Civilization: The Fate of the Jewish Nation and the Destiny of the West.” This article was produced in collaboration with Creators Syndicate. X: @josh_hammer

The uproar over Tucker Carlson’s interview with white nationalist and Holocaust denier Nick Fuentes has sparked yet another round of MAGA civil war talk.

Full disclosure: I previously worked for Carlson at the Daily Caller, so I’ve had a front-row seat for this ongoing battle for a long time now.

In case you missed the latest: Carlson invited Fuentes onto his podcast. What followed wasn’t an interview so much as a warm bubble bath of mutual validation — the kind of “conversation” that helps launder extremist ideas.

Enter Kevin Roberts, president of the Heritage Foundation — once the intellectual vanguard of conservatism, now something closer to an emotional support group for people who think President Reagan was too soft. Responding to whispers that Heritage might distance itself from Carlson, Roberts rushed out a video to reassure the faithful: Heritage will have no enemies to its right.

Roberts disagreed with Fuentes (good for him) but insisted Heritage didn’t become the top conservative think tank by “canceling our own people or policing the consciences of Christians.” He also called Carlson’s critics a “venomous coalition” who “serve someone else’s agenda” — which echoes one of the oldest antisemitic tropes in the book.

And then something surprising happened: People inside Heritage actually pushed back (a brave move, given Heritage’s Orwellian “one voice” policy). Some even resigned.

The broader right-wing commentariat weighed in, too. Ben Shapiro called Carlson an “intellectual coward.” Ted Cruz made some noise. The Wall Street Journal editorial board huffed. And talk radio host Mark Levin criticized Fuentes and Carlson during a speech to the Republican Jewish Coalition. For a brief moment, it looked like accountability was actually trending.

But … why this moment? Why now?

Keep in mind: Then-former President Trump dined with Fuentes in 2022 and wrongly claimed immigrants were eating pets in 2024. As president, he told the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by” in 2020. And of course he launched his political career by questioning President Obama’s birth certificate. I could go on.

Despite all of this, Trump’s grip on the conservative movement only grew firmer.

Meanwhile, right-wing antisemitism has metastasized on Trump’s watch — despite his support for Israel.

Charlottesville, anyone?

The “alt-right” has shed its “alt.” They’re just “right” now.

This is especially observable when it comes to young conservatives who came of age during the Trump era. Indeed, one Heritage staffer told the New York Post that “a growing number” of Heritage interns “actually agree” with Fuentes.

And here’s the irony: The same conservative media figures now sounding the alarm helped build the machine.

Take Levin. Fuentes recently admitted that it was Levin’s radio show that first radicalized him. “He planted the seed, at least,” Fuentes told Carlson.

Likewise, aside from endorsing Trump in 2024, Shapiro made conspiracy theorist Candace Owens famous when his Daily Wire hired her to host a podcast on its platform after she became buddies with Kanye West and after she suggested the only problem with Adolf Hitler was that “he had dreams outside of Germany.”

So if these more mainstream Trumpers are horrified now, it’s probably because they helped create monsters — and those monsters are now coming to devour their creators, as monsters always do.

Rest assured, though, this rot is not limited solely to antisemitism. In recent months, MAGA figures such as Vivek Ramaswamy, FBI Director Kash Patel and even Vice President JD Vance (who is married to an Indian American woman) have all been targets of racist abuse online.

It’s important to note that none of these folks are considered “Never Trump” or Reagan conservatives. They are Trump allies. The revolution devours itself. (First they came for the Never Trumpers.…)

Again, this is far from the first skirmish in the MAGA civil war. But all of these internecine fights obscure the root cause of the problem: Trump. And yet, the orange emperor himself? Off-limits.

The fever won’t break while Trump’s still around, serving as a magnet for the worst people and cultivating the toxic ecosystem that made all of this right-wing racism possible, if not inevitable.

So by all means, conservatives: Condemn Carlson, denounce Fuentes and scold Heritage for failing to police the right and only punching left.

But as long as you avert your eyes from Trumpism, your righteous outrage is just theater — the political equivalent of aggressively mopping the floor while the pipes keep bursting.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”

On Tuesday, I voted for the first time. Not for a president, not in a midterm, but in the California special election to counter Texas Republicans’ gerrymandering efforts. What makes this dynamic particularly fascinating is that both parties are betting on the same demographic — Latino voters.

For years, pundits assumed Latinos were a lock for Democrats. President Obama’s 44-point lead with these voters in 2012 cemented the narrative: “Shifting demographics” (shorthand for more nonwhite voters) would doom Republicans.

But 2016, and especially the 2024 elections, shattered that idea. A year ago, Trump lost the Latino vote by just 3 points, down from 25 in 2020, according to Pew. Trump carried 14 of the 18 Texas counties within 20 miles of the border, a majority-Latino region. The shift was so significant that Texas Republicans, under Trump’s direction, are redrawing congressional districts to suppress Democratic representation, betting big that Republican gains made with Latinos can clinch the midterms in November 2026.

To counter Republican gerrymanders in Texas, Gov. Gavin Newsom and California Democrats pushed their own redistricting plans, hoping to send more Democrats to the House. They too are banking on Latino support — but that’s not a sure bet.

Imperial County offers a cautionary tale. This border district is 86% Latino, among the poorest in California, and has long been politically overlooked. It was considered reliably blue for decades; since 1994, it had backed every Democratic presidential candidate until 2024, when Trump narrowly won the district.

Determined to understand the recent shift, during summer break I traveled in Imperial County, interviewing local officials in El Centro, Calexico and other towns. Their insights revealed that the 2024 results weren’t just about immigration or ideology; they were about leadership, values and, above all, economics.

“It was crazy. It was a surprise,” Imperial County Registrar of Voters Linsey Dale told me. She pointed out that the assembly seat that represents much of Imperial County and part of Riverside County flipped to Republican.

Several interviewees cited voters’ frustration with President Biden’s age and Kamala Harris’ lack of visibility. In a climate of nostalgia politics, many Latino voters apparently longed for what they saw as the relative stability of the pre-pandemic Trump years.

Older Latinos, in particular, were attracted to the GOP’s rhetoric around family and tradition. But when asked about the top driver of votes, the deputy county executive officer, Rebecca Terrazas-Baxter, told me: “It wasn’t immigration. It was the economic hardship and inflation.”

Republicans winning over voters on issues such as cost of living, particularly coming out of pandemic-era recession, makes sense, but I am skeptical of the notion that Latino voters are fully realigning themselves into a slate of conservative positions.

Imperial voters consistently back progressive economic policies at the ballot box and hold a favorable view of local government programs that deliver tangible help such as homebuyer assistance, housing rehabilitation and expanded healthcare access. In the past, even when they have supported Democratic presidential candidates, they have voted for conservative ballot measures and Republican candidates down the ticket. Imperial voters backed Obama by a wide margin but also supported California’s Proposition 8, banning same-sex marriage. This mix of progressive economics and conservative values is why Republican political consultant Mike Madrid describes Latino partisanship as a “weak anchor.”

The same fluidity explains why many Latinos who rallied behind Sen. Bernie Sanders in 2020 later voted for Trump in 2024. Both men ran as populists, promising to challenge the establishment and deliver economic revival. For Latinos, it wasn’t about left or right; it was about surviving.

The lesson for both parties in California, Texas and everywhere is that no matter how lines are drawn, no district should be considered “safe” without serious engagement.

It should go without saying, Latino voters are not a monolith. They split tickets and vote pragmatically based on lived economic realities. Latinos are the youngest and fastest-growing demographic in the U.S., with a median age of 30. Twenty-five percent of Gen Z Americans are Latino, myself among them. We are the most consequential swing voters of the next generation.

As I assume many other young Latino voters do, I approached my first time at the ballot box with ambivalence. I’ve long awaited my turn to participate in the American democratic process, but I could never have expected that my first time would be to stop a plot to undermine it. And yet, I feel hope.

The 2024 election made it clear to both parties that Latinos are not to be taken for granted. Latino voters are American democracy’s wild card — young, dynamic and fiercely pragmatic. They embody what democracy should be: fluid, responsive and rooted in lived experience. They don’t swear loyalty to red or blue; they back whoever they think will deliver. The fastest-growing voting bloc in America is up for grabs.

Francesca Moreno is a high school senior at Marlborough School in Los Angeles, researching Latino voting behavior under the guidance of political strategist Mike Madrid.

Zohran Mamdani, the progressive standard-bearer who could become New York City’s next mayor after Tuesday’s election, faces a public-safety trap that has entangled progressives nationwide: Voters want less cruelty, not less accountability. Confuse the two, and even progressives will vote you out.

Even before he has taken office, Mamdani is already fending off attacks from opponents, including former Gov. Andrew Cuomo and other political adversaries. They seek to brand him as a radical by tying him to the national Democratic Socialists of America’s most controversial criminal justice planks, such as declining to prosecute misdemeanor offenses.

Yet, in distancing himself from those specific policies, Mamdani is cleverly navigating a political minefield that has doomed other reformers. His strategy demonstrates a crucial lesson for the broader progressive movement: voters want a less inhumane justice system, not one that is unenforced. If progressives are perceived as abandoning accountability for offenses like shoplifting and public drug usage, they invite a political backlash that will not only cost them elections (or reelections) but also set back the cause of reform nationwide.

Americans across the political spectrum support reducing extremely harsh punishments. They want shorter sentences, alternatives to incarceration and rehabilitation over punishment. The moral case against excessive punishment resonates with voters who see our system as unnecessarily cruel. The evidence is overwhelming: 81% of Americans believe the U.S. criminal justice system needs reform, and 85% agree the main goal of our criminal justice system should be rehabilitation.

But when it comes to deciding which behaviors deserve prosecution, the politics shift dramatically. Mamdani has previously aligned with the Democratic Socialists of America, an organization that calls for ending the enforcement of some misdemeanor offenses.

This is precisely the kind of stance that can trigger backlash. The 2022 recall of San Francisco’s progressive district attorney shows why. About 1 in 3 “progressive” voters cast a ballot to remove the progressive DA from office. It wasn’t because they disagreed with his policies; in fact, these same voters supported his specific reforms when his name wasn’t attached to them. Their opposition was rooted in a fear that declining to prosecute low-level crimes would create a deterrence vacuum and incentivize lawlessness.

In Los Angeles, George Gascón’s trajectory offers a cautionary tale. As Los Angeles County district attorney, he survived two recall attempts before losing his 2024 reelection bid by 23 points. L.A. voters hadn’t abandoned reform — they’d supported it just four years earlier. But Gascón’s categorical bans on seeking certain harsher sentences or charging juveniles as adults triggered a revolt from his own rank-and-file prosecutors, creating the perception that entire categories of misconduct would go unaddressed. When prosecutors publicly sued him, arguing his directives violated state law, the deterrence vacuum became tangible. By the time Gascón walked back some policies, voters’ trust had evaporated.

This pattern repeats across the country. In Boston, DA Kevin Hayden has distanced himself so forcefully from predecessor Rachael Rollins’ “do not prosecute” list that he bristles at reporters even mentioning it. Yet Hayden’s office is still diverting first-time shoplifters to treatment programs — the same approach Rollins advocated. The difference? Hayden emphasizes prosecution of repeat offenders while offering alternatives to first-timers. The policy is nearly identical; the politics couldn’t be more different.

Critics are right to argue that the old model of misdemeanor prosecution was a failure. It criminalized poverty and addiction, clogged our courts and did little to stop the revolving door. But the answer to a broken system is not to create a vacuum of enforcement; it is to build a new system that pairs accountability with effective intervention.

Mamdani has already shown political wisdom by declaring, “I am not defunding the police.” But the issue isn’t just about police funding — it’s about what behaviors the criminal justice system will address. As mayor, Mamdani would not control whether the prosecutors abandon prosecution of misdemeanors, but what matters are his stances and voters’ perception. He should be vocal about how we thinks prosecutors should respond to low-level offenses:

• First-time shoplifters: Restitution or community service.
• Drug possession: Treatment enrollment, not incarceration.
• Quality-of-life violations: Social service interventions for housing and health.
• DUI offenders: Intensive supervision and treatment.

To be clear, this isn’t about ignoring these offenses; it’s about transforming the response. For this to work, the justice system must use its inherent leverage. Instead of compelling jail time, a pending criminal case becomes the tool to ensure a person completes a treatment program, pays restitution to the store they stole from, or connects with housing services. This is the essence of diversion: Accountability is met, the underlying problem is addressed, and upon successful completion, the case is often dismissed, allowing the person to move forward without the lifelong burden of a criminal record.

Mamdani’s proposed Department of Community Safety is a step in the right direction. But it must work alongside, not instead of, prosecution for lower-level offenses, and Mamdani must frame it as a partner to prosecution. If voters perceive it as a substitute for accountability, his opponents will use it as a political weapon the moment crime rates fluctuate.

New York deserves bold criminal justice reform. But boldness without pragmatism leads to backlash that sets the entire movement back. The future of the criminal justice progressive movement in America will not be determined by its ideals, but by its ability to deliver pragmatic safety. For the aspiring mayor, and for prosecutors in California and beyond, this means understanding that residents want both order and compassionate justice.

Dvir Yogev is a postdoctoral researcher at the Criminal Law & Justice Center at UC Berkeley, where he studies the politics of criminal justice reform and prosecutor elections.