gavin newsom

Erin Wagner lives in the Chicago suburbs but visits two bald eagles in Southern California’s Big Bear Valley nearly every day.

At work, the 41-year-old often plays a livestream featuring Jackie and Shadow on one of her monitors — a respite when she needs a break.

The avian power couple follows her home, keeping her company as she cooks dinner.

“We live in such a busy world, and things are always being thrown at our face, so sometimes it’s nice to just have a gentle reminder of nature and what else is out there in the world,” Wagner told me last week.

She is just one of many devoted fans; the eagles had the highest view count of any year-round nature livestream active on YouTube between last fall and this spring, said Rebecca Mauldin, an assistant professor at the University of Texas at Arlington who studies social connectedness.

While the eagles’ following is singular, it’s part of a broader trend: surging interest in webcams that broadcast nature, unadulterated, minute by minute, in all its messy glory.

The number of 24/7 livestreams created per year swelled by about 3,000% between 2019 and 2025, Mauldin’s data show.

Jackie and Shadow’s livestream exemplifies “Slow TV,” a genre that began with a 2009 Norwegian broadcast of a seven-hour train trip. It took off, with other marathon programs featuring chopping firewood and knitting.

Nature looms large in the format. Millions tune into Sweden’s live coverage of an annual moose migration, and the same goes for a seasonal broadcast of bears chowing down on salmon in Alaska.

The appeal makes intuitive sense. In a world of quick camera cuts, sound bites and troubling headlines, Mother Nature’s rhythms can be a salve. And with many of us wound up in concrete urbanity, the livestreams offer instant transportation to the wild.

Following Jackie and Shadow takes patience. If they’re not hanging out at the nest, it’s a waiting game until they come back. Even when they’re there, there may not be much going on.

Entertainment “can be very artificial, it can be very packaged, and it can be very short,” said Jenny Voisard, media manager for Friends of Big Bear Valley, the nonprofit that operates the cameras broadcasting the eagles. “This is long and slow and calm.”

Yet nature is unpredictable, another draw for viewers. This nesting season alone has brought plenty of drama, from the lovebirds losing their eggs to ravens to laying more not long after. Last week, I wrote about the couple’s shocking origin — it involves a love triangle! — and their rise to reality stardom.

Last year, Jackie and Shadow raised two chicks that went on to fledge: Sunny and Gizmo

(Friends of Big Bear Valley)

Research backs the vibes. Those who watch nature livestreams — from platypi to osprey — report a host of benefits, from uplifted mood to relaxation, said Mauldin, citing a literature review she-coauthored.

Others get jazzed about learning about a particular species, she said.

There may be limitations, though.

In terms of connecting to nature, “I lean toward the effect is stronger if you’re actually outdoors, or, you know, you’ve got a little ant crawling on your finger and watching it,” Mauldin said.

She highlighted another dimension I didn’t think of: Many “talk about how they’re developing strong online relationships, and you can see it in the chats or in the comments.”

Someone might comment that they had a bad day and are glad to be watching their favorite birds again, and another viewer will rally to support them. Then there are people who watch on their own, but gab about it later with a friend.

Friends of Big Bear Valley, with 1.2 million followers on Facebook, offers more than just updates on the eagles. It’s a buzzing community center where fans can share their thoughts and engage with one another.

Animals may also get something out of being watched: protection.

The eagle cam, for example, “sort of stokes the public’s imagination and interest in conservation,” said Thomas Leeman, deputy chief of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s migratory bird program in the Pacific Southwest. “They start to really care about whichever particular birds that they’re watching.”

Wagner, of Chicago, said her husband and 14-year-old son sometimes give her a hard time about how invested she is in Jackie and Shadow.

But her cat, Oscar, shares her fascination.

She recently posted a photo of the feline on Jackie and Shadow’s Facebook — looking intently at a TV where an eagle hunkered down on the nest.

“My new cat is just as obsessed as all of us,” she wrote.

More recent wildlife news

Big Bear’s celeb eagles continue to keep us on our toes. Jackie recently vanished from the nest for nearly 24 hours, sending fans into a panic — but eventually reunited with her eggs and mate, reports USA Today’s Michelle Del Rey.

While we’re on the subject of avian kind: Last week, I wrote about a pair of condors that appear to be nesting in Northern California, something not seen for a century. The Yurok Tribe is leading the effort to bring the large, endangered vultures back to their historic homeland in Humboldt and Del Norte counties.

As conservationists celebrate that win, the story for birds nationwide is not so rosy. A recent study found that North America is rapidly losing birds, and the loss is accelerating, largely due to intensive agriculture and warming temperatures, writes the Associated Press’ Seth Borenstein.

A few last things in climate news

Trump’s war on Iran has disrupted global oil and gas supplies. The conflict has kept ships that carry millions of barrels of oil a day stranded in the Persian Gulf, and key Middle East facilities have sustained damage, reports the Associated Press.

Oil prices have spiked, and Californians are paying the highest price at the pump in the nation. As my colleague Iris Kwok explains, that’s due to the state’s higher taxes and stricter requirements for cleaner, more expensive gas that pollutes.

Sticker shock at gas stations is expected to spur more Americans to consider hybrid or electric vehicles, according to fellow Times staffers Caroline Petrow-Cohen and Blanca Begert.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Justice has released a legal opinion that sets the stage to approve a controversial oil operation off the Santa Barbara County coast, The Times’ Grace Toohey reports.

This is the latest edition of Boiling Point, a newsletter about climate change and the environment in the American West. Sign up here to get it in your inbox. And listen to our Boiling Point podcast here.

For more wildlife and outdoors news, follow Lila Seidman at @lilaseidman.bsky.social on Bluesky and @lila_seidman on X.

March 7 (UPI) — Rep. Darrell Issa, R-Calif., announced he is retiring at the end of his term and put his support behind San Diego Supervisor Jim Desmond.

Issa issued a statement Friday on social media saying he will not be seeking re-election in this year’s midterm elections.

“This decision has been on my mind for a while and I didn’t make it lightly,” Issa wrote. “First, we built the right campaign infrastructure, support has been overwhelming — including from President Trump — and our polling was unmistakable: We would win this race. But after a quarter-century in Congress — and before that, a quarter-century in business — it”s the right time for a new chapter and new challenges.”

Issa offered his “enthusiastic endorsement” to San Diego Supervisor Jim Desmond, who filed to run for Issa’s seat on Friday.

The announcement comes after Gov. Gavin Newsom‘s ballot measure to redraw state congressional districts, which passed in November, transformed Issa’s district from safely Republican to an area more friendly to Democrats.

Issa had previously been rumored to be considering a run for Congress in Texas, but he told Fox News in December that the plan would not be going forward.

“I’m thrilled to set the record straight and here’s the truth: Texas House members and residents of that state did ask if I would consider running there following Gavin Newsom’s historically corrupt gerrymander,” he said at the time. “I appreciate the opportunity, but California is my home. I told them I’m going to stay in Congress, and I don’t need to go to Texas for that.”

Anna Elsasser, spokesperson for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, celebrated the news of Issa’s retirement in a statement.

“After over two decades of disastrous representation, Darrell Issa is once again running for the exits — and good riddance. Issa abandoning his voters now is the clearest sign yet that Republicans know he can’t win on his record of skyrocketing prices, gutting health care, and looking out for himself and wealthy special interests above all else,” Elsasser said. “Any Republican who tries to parachute into this race with the same extreme agenda will face the same fate.”

Christian Martinez, a spokesman for the National Republican Campaign Committee, praising Issa for his “decades of dedicated service” in a statement provided to Politico.

“We are optimistic that this district will continue to be represented by a Republican who will stand for common sense and reject the radical agenda and chaos that progressive Marni von Wilpert and socialist Ammar Campa-Najjar would bring,” Martinez said.

When a Los Angeles County judge ordered a notorious Watts scrap metal yard to permanently halt its operations last year, many residents and environmental advocates thought it might finally bring an end to the facility’s dangerous pollution. Instead, the shutdown may have only marked the beginning of what could be a lengthy process to erase decades of environmental degradation.

For nearly 75 years, S&W Atlas Iron & Metal had crushed car parts, shredded aluminum cans and processed an assortment of recyclable metals. Over that time, the facility and its owners racked up dozens of environmental violations and were eventually criminally convicted of crimes that endangered students next door at Jordan High School and residents of Watts.

Since Atlas’ court-ordered closure, the towering piles of scrap metal have largely disappeared from the 3-acre recycling facility. Jordan High’s campus hasn’t been rocked by explosions, pelted with shrapnel or blanketed in layers of toxic, metallic dust.

But one of the most serious, and remaining, threats has gone unnoticed until recently.

A contractor hired by Atlas recently measured a witch’s brew of toxic chemicals percolating in the soil and groundwater beneath the site at orders of magnitude above California’s standards, according to court documents. Around five feet underground, a soil probe detected the highest reading of vinyl chloride — just one of the several carcinogens at the site — more than 1.3 million times higher than the state benchmark.

“What they found were astronomical levels of these contaminants,” said Danielle Hoague, director of research for the Better Watts Initiative.

“I think it’s definitely a hidden danger. I don’t think that the community has been informed of what underlies Atlas. But I would assume that people are experiencing the health effects of this.”

State regulators are still hashing out the scope of the cleanup at the shuttered industrial site. But, more concerning, Watts residents and school district officials fear these contaminants may be migrating with groundwater, posing a risk to neighboring Jordan High School and Jordan Downs housing complex. If that is the case, the question is who will foot the bill to clean up this pollution?

“The cleanup of the Atlas site has been slow, and Atlas is proceeding with a lack of executed urgency,” an L.A. Unified School District spokesperson said in a statement.

Atlas “has failed to advise Los Angeles Unified promptly of contamination found just feet away from the school campus and the adjacent Jordan Downs Housing Development,” the spokesperson added.

Shutting down a source of pollution is only the first step in campaigns for cleaner air. It’s often equally burdensome, time-consuming and expensive to hold polluters accountable for cleaning up the legacy contamination at their own property. And it’s even more difficult to compel companies to decontaminate nearby properties that may have been affected by their operations.

In Lincoln Heights, decades passed after the closure of a massive dry-cleaning operation before residents learned of underground contamination spreading off-site, potentially threatening nearby homes and an elementary school. In Newport Beach, a sprawling aerospace and defense hub was converted into luxury homes three decades ago, and homeowners were only recently informed about residual toxic pollution. In Jurupa Valley, residents were alarmed to learn about toxic vapors seeping into their homes after contaminated groundwater migrated several miles from a former hazardous waste dump uphill.

In Watts, many residents were already aware of the danger posed by toxic metals produced by Atlas’ operations. At times, metallic dust left parts of Jordan High’s campus covered in an iridescent sheen, and the school district has in the past removed contaminated soil from the campus.

But it was far more difficult to predict that pollution could be spreading underground. Many of the chemicals found beneath Atlas evaporate at room temperature and sneak into buildings through cracks in foundations, floor drains or other gaps — a process known as vapor intrusion.

Over the past year, an LAUSD consultant conducted two rounds of air sampling at Jordan High. The levels of airborne chemicals the detected in gym’s basement suggest toxic vapors are infiltrating the building. However, the consultant has said more air sampling is necessary to determine whether it constitutes an unacceptable health risk.

So far, the district says the concentrations have not warranted closing school buildings yet.

In the meantime, the school district is pleading with the state regulators to get Atlas to commit to cleaning up the toxic fallout.

A Los Angeles County judge recently ordered an audit of Atlas’ finances, raising doubts about the company’s ability to pay potential damages.

But community leaders, like Timothy Watkins, president of the Watts Labor Community Action Committee, won’t be satisfied until the case moves from courtroom to cleanup.

“There’s no champion for us. So we have to find a way — with very, very limited resources — to get our story out in a way that begins to raise some kind of alarm and awareness of the danger here.”

More recent air news

New research suggests some air pollutants can significantly alter insect behavior, science journalist Gennaro Tomma writes in National Geographic. Smog-forming emissions can interfere with insect communication by breaking down pheromones, causing ant colonies to exhibit aggression toward their own members and neglect their larvae.

The Trump administration reversed a Biden-era rule limiting brain-damaging mercury emissions from coal plants, arguing compliance costs threatened energy reliability, Guardian environmental reporter Oliver Milman writes. The rollback allows some of the coal plants to avoid expensive upgrades, sparking debate over the trade-off between economic concerns and public health risks.

The California Air Resources Board set an Aug. 10 deadline for some of the nation’s largest companies to disclose their greenhouse gas emissions, according to the Sacramento Bee’s climate reporter Chaewon Chung. A pair of state laws enacted in 2023 required companies with more than $1 billion in annual revenue to adhere to the reporting requirements.

In other climate news

As Western states brace for deep cuts to their allotments of Colorado River water, one California water agency may be in a position to help. San Diego County Water Authority’s board recently voted to consider selling a portion of its water to Arizona and Nevada, reports Ian James for the LA. Times. The San Diego area is home to the nation’s largest desalination plant, allowing the agency to rely less on unpredictable reservoirs.

The escalating war in the Middle East has triggered the biggest oil and gas market disruption since 2022, driving a surge in energy prices and forcing a re-evaluation of energy security, Bloomberg reports. While high prices could bolster the case for deploying renewable energy, experts warn that worsening inflation — from higher energy costs — could ironically hamper the shift to clean energy.

A Southern California architect is challenging the notion that wildfire-resistant designs can’t also be visually stunning. L.A. Times wildfire reporter Noah Haggerty interviewed a Palisades fire survivor who is so confident about the design of his newly constructed Spanish-revival home, he asked the fire department if he could spark a controlled fire on his property.

This is the latest edition of Boiling Point, a newsletter about climate change and the environment in the American West. Sign up here to get it in your inbox. And listen to our Boiling Point podcast here.

For more air quality news, follow Tony Briscoe on X and LinkedIn.

Israel, Iran, ICE, dyslexia, single moms and a pet otter named Potter were among the subjects discussed Tuesday evening at California Gov. Gavin Newsom’s tour stop in Los Angeles to promote his new book, “Young Man in a Hurry: A Memoir of Discovery.”

Speaking to a sold-out crowd of around 1,300 at L.A.’s historic Wilshire Ebell Theatre, the hourlong Q&A hosted by Writers Bloc and moderated by “Pod Save America” hosts John Favreau and Tommy Vietor was equal parts a get-to-know-the-man-behind-the-mask chat and a timely discussion about challenges facing the country.

The engaging discussion was clearly geared toward dispelling the image of Newsom as “that slick guy” (his own words), by covering his journey from an insecure, cocky young man trying to impress those around him to an adult who, through his successes and follies, has become comfortable in his own skin.

Gov. Gavin Newsom and moderators Jon Favreau and Tommy Vietor promoting Newsom’s new book, “Young Man in a Hurry.”

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

He described his young, pre-politician self as posing in a suit: “I was thinking I was Pierce Brosnan in ‘Remington Steele.’ I just discovered hair gel,” Newsom joked. He said in those early years he was often overcompensating for his own feelings of inadequacy as the son of a single mom who struggled to pay the rent. As a kid with learning differences, whose undiagnosed dyslexia put him behind in school. Whose “broke and broken” father neglected his family while hobnobbing with wealthy San Francisco families, including the heirs of the Getty oil fortune.

A chatty, relaxed and sometimes free-associating Newsom rarely needed prompting from the moderators when speaking about his childhood, his family’s strange choice of pet (the aforementioned otter) or far more serious matters. He said that Democrats need to “fight fire with fire” and be more “ruthless” in their fight to win back the country.

Newsom’s politician-speak was evident in some of his more rehearsed efforts to convince the crowd that he’s a regular guy (he may not have changed many diapers with his first daughter, but he got better at his dad duties with his next three kids). But those instances were matched by unvarnished comments that appeared genuine, and risked alienating some of his base.

One such instance came early in the conversation, when Newsom was asked about where he stood on President Trump’s new Iran war, and the administration’s changing rationales on why it launched the military operation without consulting Congress.

“[The Trump administration’s] first rationale was we’ve got to make sure that they’re not armed with nuclear [weapons]. But I thought that was resolved, that we had completely ‘obliterated’ it,” Newsom said, using Trump’s claims against him. “Then maybe that wasn’t the case, so now it’s about their missiles, and they can perhaps hit the United States, and then it’s wait, that’s a decade plus away. So that’s BS. Then it’s about their militias, it’s about their proxy. Then it’s no, it’s about their navy. And then no, it’s a response to the likelihood that Israel was going to [go in] so we had to go in ourselves. God help us … this is Keystone Cops.”

Newsom was then asked if the United States should perhaps consider rethinking its military support for Israel, and he said that would be reasonable.

“The issue of Bibi [Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu] is interesting because he’s got his own domestic issues,” Newsom said. “He’s trying to stay out of jail. He’s got an election coming up. I mean, to say this is in America’s interest, at a time when affordability is at crisis levels, where you had an administration who literally got elected saying this is exactly the opposite of what they would ever consider doing. The fact that we are in this now, regional war.…”

He also said Netanyahu was “potentially on the ropes. He’s got folks, the hard line, that want to annex the West Bank.” Newsom suggested that some critics have “appropriately” described Israel as sort of an “apartheid state.” His comments caused a stir Wednesday from pro-Israel advocates who felt Newsom was turning on their interests.

But most of the conversation was about the book, and domestic issues. Newsom has been a fierce critic of Trump and his policies, positioning himself as part of the resistance, one of the few high-profile leaders to hit back with policy (Proposition 50) and a strong media presence with his podcast, “This is Gavin Newsom,” and his Trump-trolling social media accounts.

“Nothing goes to the heart of who [Donald Trump] is than his press conference yesterday, where he was lamenting [that] four Americans had died,” Newsom said. “He mentioned them in passing. And then went on, in great detail, about the drapes and the Imperial Palace in the East Wing [of the White House] that he’s building. He talked about [it] with real passion and conviction. It says everything about Donald Trump, the uncertainty in the world, to the fact that we have allies under threat, UAE, we’ve got proxy war with, once again, with Hezbollah and Lebanon. We’ve got all the anxiety as relates to 20% of the world’s oil flow, issues related to oil prices and stocks.”

Though Newsom was speaking to an auditorium of blue state supporters, his tour kicked off last week in the South, with stops in Georgia, Tennessee and South Carolina. His efforts to relate to his audience were seized upon when, during a conversation with Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens, he addressed the audience, saying, “I’m like you,” before bringing up his low SAT scores. He was called out for his comment, which was labeled as racist by critics, particularly those from right leaning media outlets.

In Los Angeles on Tuesday, he was asked how he felt about the California Democratic Party chair’s recent suggestion that some party candidates drop out of the governor’s race, to avoid a Republican potentially winning. “I confess. I agree. With all the promise and peril that marks this moment in California, the most un-Trump state in America,” we can’t risk a Republican winning, he said.

The California Highway Patrol and a private security firm deployed officers and agents around the venue for a tight security presence (no bags or purses allowed). On at least three occasions, one or more protesters interrupted the discussion with shouts from the balcony and floor seats, demanding Newsom do something about privatized prisons and the ICE sweeps of immigrants.

After they were removed by security, Newsom said he understood the “escalation of stress” over the last ten years or so, and defended his record, mentioning he signed the first bill banning private prisons and was a “fierce opponent” of what’s happening on American streets.

Attendees of the event applauded Newsom’s record, and just about everything else he said. They were, after all, folks who had paid up to $80 a seat to hear the conversation and receive a copy of his book. He walked into the crowd afterward and spent nearly a half hour chatting with audience members, posing for selfies and signing copies of his memoir. Newsom was not in a hurry.

Donald Trump has never been one to play by the rules.

Whether it’s stiffing contractors as a real estate developer, defying court orders he doesn’t like as president or leveraging the Oval Office to vastly inflate his family’s fortune, Trump’s guiding principle can be distilled to a simple, unswerving calculation: What’s in it for me?

Trump is no student of history. He’s famously allergic to books. But he knows enough to know that midterm elections like the one in November have, with few exceptions, been ugly for the party holding the presidency.

With control of the House — and Trump’s virtually unchecked authority — dangling by a gossamer thread, he reckoned correctly that Republicans were all but certain to lose power this fall unless something unusual happened.

So he effectively broke the rules.

Normally, the redrawing of the country’s congressional districts takes place once every 10 years, following the census and accounting for population changes over the previous decade. Instead, Trump prevailed upon the Republican governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, to throw out the state’s political map and refashion congressional lines to wipe out Democrats and boost GOP chances of winning as many as five additional House seats.

The intention was to create a bit of breathing room, as Democrats need a gain of just three seats to seize control of the House.

In relatively short order, California’s Democratic governor, Gavin Newsom, responded with his own partisan gerrymander. He rallied voters to pass a tit-for-tat ballot measure, Proposition 50, which revised the state’s political map to wipe out Republicans and boost Democratic prospects of winning as many as five additional seats.

Then came the deluge.

In more than a dozen states, lawmakers looked at ways to tinker with their congressional maps to lift their candidates, stick it to the other party and gain House seats in November.

Some of those efforts continue, including in Virginia where, as in California, voters are being asked to amend the state Constitution to let majority Democrats redraw political lines ahead of the midterm. A special election is set for April 21.

But as the first ballots of 2026 are cast on Tuesday — in Arkansas, North Carolina and Texas — the broad contours of the House map have become clearer, along with the result of all those partisan machinations. The likely upshot is a nationwide partisan shift of fewer than a handful of seats.

The independent, nonpartisan Cook Political Report, which has a sterling decades-long record of election forecasting, said the most probable outcome is a wash. “At the end of the day,” said Erin Covey, who analyzes House races for the Cook Report, “this doesn’t really benefit either party in a real way.”

Well.

That was a lot of wasted time and energy.

Let’s take a quick spin through the map and the math, knowing that, of course, there are no election guarantees.

In Texas, for instance, new House districts were drawn assuming Latinos would back Republican candidates by the same large percentage they supported Trump in 2024. But that’s become much less certain, given the backlash against his draconian immigration enforcement policies; numerous polls show a significant falloff in Latino support for the president, which could hurt GOP candidates up and down the ballot.

But suppose Texas Republicans gain five seats as hoped for and California Democrats pick up the five seats they’ve hand-crafted. The result would be no net change.

Elsewhere, under the best case for each party, a gain of four Democratic House seats in Virginia would be offset by a gain of four Republican House seats in Florida.

That leaves a smattering of partisan gains here and there. A combined pickup of four or so Republican seats in Ohio, North Carolina and Missouri could be mostly offset by Democratic gains of a seat apiece in New York, Maryland and Utah.

(The latter is not a result of legislative high jinks, but rather a judge throwing out the gerrymandered map passed by Utah Republicans, who ignored a voter-approved ballot measure intended to prevent such heavy-handed partisanship. A newly created district, contained entirely within Democratic-leaning Salt Lake County, seems certain to go Democrats’ way in November.)

In short, it’s easy to characterize the political exertions of Trump, Abbott, Newsom and others as so much sound and fury producing, at bottom, little to nothing.

But that’s not necessarily so.

The campaign surrounding Proposition 50 delivered a huge political boost to Newsom, shoring up his standing with Democrats, significantly raising his profile across the country and, not least for his 2028 presidential hopes, helping the governor build a significant nationwide fundraising base.

In crimson-colored Indiana, Republicans refused to buckle under tremendous pressure from Trump, Vice President JD Vance and other party leaders, rejecting an effort to redraw the state’s congressional map and give the GOP a hold on all nine House seats. That showed even Trump’s Svengali-like hold on his party has its limits.

But the biggest impact is also the most corrosive.

By redrawing political lines to predetermine the outcome of House races, politicians rendered many of their voters irrelevant and obsolete. Millions of Democrats in Texas, Republicans in California and partisans in other states have been effectively disenfranchised, their voices rendered mute. Their ballots spindled and nullified.

In short, the politicians — starting with Trump — extended a big middle finger to a large portion of the American electorate.

Is it any wonder, then, so many voters hold politicians and our political system in contempt?

The latest news about the Colorado River is dire. Since 2000, the river’s flow has shrunk about 20%. An extremely warm winter has brought very little snow in the Rocky Mountains. Reservoirs are declining to critically low levels. And the leaders of seven states are still at loggerheads over the water cutbacks each should accept to prevent reservoirs from falling further.

Here are six things to know about the current crisis:

A short-term deal, at best: Negotiators for the seven states still are discussing ways they might reach a short-term deal as a “bridge into a longer-term agreement,” said Wade Crowfoot, California’s natural resources secretary. But after missing a Feb. 14 federal deadline, the states are running out of time. Gov. Gavin Newsom told governors in a letter that California would welcome joint investments in water recycling and desalination, and that he believes it’s still possible to agree on a plan “for the next several years.”

States drawing up Plan B: Officials are talking about what they will do if no deal is reached. Representatives of Arizona, Nevada and California already offered cuts of 27%, 17% and 10%, respectively. But that hasn’t been enough for negotiators representing Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico and Utah. Crowfoot said the talks about a Plan B among California, Arizona and Nevada officials focus on what water agencies could do to stabilize the level of Lake Mead, the nation’s largest reservoir, which is 34% full and set to decline further.

A court battle looms: As the Trump administration considers ordering cuts, state officials are bracing for potential lawsuits. Utah and Arizona have begun setting aside money for legal bills. A fight could take years until there is a decision by the U.S. Supreme Court. Robert Glennon, a University of Arizona emeritus law professor, said no one knows what the court would do. “This is rolling the dice on something that is really quite profound,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like to go to Vegas and play the craps.”

Arizona is most vulnerable: Arizona is preparing for the largest cutbacks. That’s because the Central Arizona Project, the series of canals that runs to the Phoenix and Tucson areas, isn’t nearly as old as other aqueducts, giving it low-priority water rights that put it among the first in line for cuts. Farmers who rely on the CAP already have been forced to leave many fields dry. The coming cuts likely will prompt Arizona cities to drill more wells and pump more groundwater, which is declining in many areas.

Less for farms: Nearly half the water that is taken from the river is used to grow hay for cattle. In all, agriculture consumes about three-fourths of the water. In the last few years, farmers have left some hay fields dry part of the year in exchange for federal funds. Glennon said agriculture needs to conserve more, and an agreement among the states could include a fund to help farmers switch to irrigation systems that use less.

Cutbacks carry costs: For cities, adapting will require more conservation and searching for alternative water sources, which will cost money and push up water bills, said Rhett Larson, an Arizona State University law professor. Some cities probably also will have to buy out farmers or pay them to leave fields fallow, which will push up urban water costs further, he said. And as farms produce less, he said, “eventually you’ll feel it in the grocery store.”

More water news

With very little snow in the Rocky Mountains, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation now projects the runoff flowing into Lake Powell, the Colorado River’s second-largest reservoir, will decrease so much that by later this year the water level probably will drop too low to spin turbines and generate hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam. As Shannon Mullane reports for the Colorado Sun, that would remove a cheap, renewable and reliable power source for communities across the West.

Glen Canyon Dam also has design flaws that create problems at low reservoir levels. As I’ve reported, if the reservoir declines to a point that water can pass through only four 8-foot-wide bypass tubes, that would limit how much can reach California, Arizona and Nevada. Those states have urged the Trump administration to fix or overhaul the dam to address this problem.

Last week, Jonathan P. Thompson wrote in his newsletter The Land Desk that the impasse among the states is pushing Glen Canyon Dam closer to the brink. He said federal officials could decide to reengineer the dam to ensure water still can pass at low reservoir levels, but that would be only a temporary fix. As Thompson put it, “aridification is rendering the dam obsolete, at least as a water storage savings account.”

Heather Sackett of Aspen Journalism spoke with experts about why the worsening crisis still hasn’t forced a deal. Kathryn Sorensen, a researcher at the ASU Kyl Center for Water Policy, said: “There’s so little water to go around that positions have become hardened as a result. We’re not just talking about inconvenient cuts; we’re talking about severe pain to economies at this point.”

In Arizona, an advocacy group backed by the Central Arizona Project has begun rolling out TV ads and online videos saying the state is being singled out in the options the federal government has outlined. Brandon Loomis of the Arizona Republic reports that an ad aired by the coalition declares: “Arizona is being unfairly targeted for reductions of Colorado River water that would cripple our state.”

In California, Newsom launched a new plan this week that sets a goal of securing 9 million acre-feet of additional water, enough to fill two Shasta Reservoirs, by 2040 in an effort to offset expected losses caused by climate change. As Camille von Kaenel reports for E&E News by Politico, the 2028 water plan will be a blueprint for new reservoirs, conservation efforts and groundwater recharge projects. Department of Water Resources Director Karla Nemeth says the effort “will help us plan smarter to deal with the way climate change is testing our water systems.”

More climate and environment news

California is spearheading a lawsuit against the Trump administration for canceling billions of dollars in funding for clean energy projects awarded during the Biden administration. My colleague Hayley Smith reported the cuts included a $1.2-billion federal grant for California’s hydrogen hub. The hub was part of the Biden administration’s nationwide effort to develop hydrogen projects to replace planet-warming fossil fuels, particularly in hard-to-decarbonize sectors such as heavy-duty trucking.

Illegal cannabis farms are polluting national forests in California, leaving contamination that harms wildlife and watersheds. Reporter Rachel Becker of CalMatters visited an illicit cannabis grow that was raided by law enforcement in Shasta-Trinity National Forest, where a pile of pesticide sprayers was left behind. Researchers are sounding the alarm, she wrote, “that inadequate federal funding, disjointed communication, dangerous conditions and agencies stretched thin at both the state and federal level are leaving thousands of grow sites — and their trash, pesticides, fertilizers and more — to foul California’s forests.”

This is the latest edition of Boiling Point, a newsletter about climate change and the environment in the American West. Sign up here to get it in your inbox. And listen to our Boiling Point podcast here.

For more water and climate news, follow Ian James @ianjames.bsky.social on Bluesky and @ByIanJames on X.

Gavin Newsom and Kamala Harris have long circled one another.

The two moved in the same political slipstream, wooed the same set of Democratic donors and, for a time, even shared the same group of campaign advisors.

Harris rose from San Francisco district attorney to elected positions in Sacramento and Washington before twice running unsuccessfully for president.

Newsom climbed from San Francisco mayor to lieutenant governor to California’s governorship, where he quietly stewed as Harris leapfrogged past him into the vice presidency. While she served in the White House, Newsom tried any number of ways to insinuate himself into the national spotlight.

Now both have at least one eye on the Oval Office, setting up a potential clash of egos and ambition that’s been decades in the making.

Newsom, whose term as governor expires in January, has been auditioning for president from practically the moment the polls closed in 2024 and horrified Democrats realized Harris had lost to Donald Trump.

Harris, who’s mostly focused on writing and promoting her campaign autobiography — while giving a political speech here and there — hasn’t publicly declared she’ll seek the White House a third time. But, notably, she has yet to rule out the possibility.

In a CNN interview aired Sunday, Newsom was asked about the prospect of facing his longtime frenemy in a fight for the Democratic nomination. (California’s gallivanting governor is embarked on his own national book tour, promoting both the “memoir of discovery” that was published Tuesday and his all-but-declared presidential bid.)

“Well, I’m San Francisco now, she’s L.A.,” Newsom joked, referring to Harris’ post-Washington residency in Brentwood. “So there’s a little distance between the two of us.”

He then turned zen-like, saying fate would determine if the two face off in the 2028 primary contest. “You can only control what you can control,” Newsom told CNN host Dana Bash.

A decade ago, Newsom and Harris swerved to keep their careers from colliding.

In 2015, Barbara Boxer said she would step down once she finished her fourth term in the U.S. Senate. The opening presented a rare opportunity for political advancement after years in which a clutch of aging incumbents held California’s top elected offices. Between Lt. Gov. Newsom and state Atty. Gen. Harris, there was no lack of pent-up ambition.

After a weekend of intensive deliberations, Newsom passed on the Senate race and Harris jumped in, establishing herself as the front-runner for Boxer’s seat, which she won in 2016. Newsom waited and was elected governor in 2018, succeeding Jerry Brown.

Once in their preferred roles, the two got along reasonably well. Each campaigned on the other’s behalf. But, privately, there has never been a great deal of mutual regard or affection.

Come 2028, there will doubtless be many Democrats seeking to replace President Trump. The party’s last wide-open contest, in 2020, drew more than two dozen major contestants. So it’s not as though Harris and Newsom would face each other in a one-on-one fight.

But dueling on the national stage, with the country’s top political prize at stake, is something that Hollywood might have scripted for Newsom and Harris as the way to settle, once and for all, their long-standing rivalry.

The two Californians would start out closely matched in good looks and charisma.

Those who know them well, having observed Newsom and Harris up close, cite other strengths and weaknesses.

Harris has thicker skin, they suggested, and is more disciplined. Her forte is set-piece events, like debates and big speeches.

Newsom is more of a policy wonk, a greater risk-taker and is more willing to venture into challenging and even hostile settings.

Newson is more fluent in the ecosphere of social media, podcasts and the like. Harris has the advantage of performing longer on the national stage and bears nothing like the personal scandals that have plagued Newsom.

But Harris’ problem, it was widely agreed, is that she has run twice before and, worse, lost the last time to Trump.

“To a lot of voters, she’s yesterday’s news,” said one campaign strategist.

“She had her shot,” said another, channeling the perceived way Democratic primary voters would react to another Harris run. “You didn’t make it, so why should we give you another shot?”

(Those half-dozen kibbitzers who agreed to candidly assess the prospects of Newsom and Harris asked not to be identified, so they could preserve their relationships with the two.)

Most of the handicappers gave the edge to Newsom in a prospective match-up; one political operative familiar with both would have placed their wager on Harris had she not run before.

“I think her demographic appeal to Black women and coming up the ranks as a Black woman working in criminal justice is a very strong card,” said the campaign strategist. “The white guy from California, the pretty boy, is not as much of a primary draw.”

That said, this strategist, too, suggested that “being tagged as someone who not only lost but lost in this situation that has set the world on fire … is too big a cross to bear.”

The consensus among these cognoscenti is that Harris will not run again and that Newsom — notwithstanding any demurrals — will.

Of course, the only two who know for sure are those principals, and it’s quite possible neither Harris nor Newsom have entirely made up their minds.

Those who enjoy their politics cut with a dash of soap opera will just have to wait.

This essay is excerpted from Gov. Gavin Newsom’s new memoir, “Young Man in a Hurry: A Memoir of Discovery.”

On January 20, 2004, I took a seat in the gallery of the House of Representatives to hear President Bush deliver his State of the Union address. The seat came courtesy of House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi. Ten months earlier, Bush had made the decision to invade Iraq after his administration’s historic campaign of lies convinced the American people that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction. We would not extricate ourselves from that costly conflict for another seventeen years. Much of his speech that night was a further attempt to sell to the nation the justification for his war. “Had we failed to act, the dictator’s weapons of mass destruction programs would continue to this day,” Bush said. He characterized the Patriot Act, which had unleashed a new magnitude of spying on American citizens, as “one of those essential tools” in the war on terror.

“Young Man in a Hurry: A Memoir of Discovery” by Gavin Newsom

(Penguin Press)

The rest of his speech was standard fare, ho-hum really, until he reached a section near the end about American values and the need for us to “work together to counter the negative influences of the culture and to send the right messages to our children.” He said he was troubled by activist judges in activist states who were threatening to undo the Defense of Marriage Act signed into law by his predecessor, President Bill Clinton. We had to “defend the sanctity of marriage” as the union of one man and one woman, he said. If need be, he would seek a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage.

As I was leaving the chamber, a middle-aged couple next to me was talking about how pleased they were that their president was finally confronting the “homosexual agenda.” The word homosexual came out of their mouths bent by contempt. I was supposed to head downstairs for a reception with Congresswoman Pelosi and a delegation of California Democrats, but I needed a breath of fresh air. Outside the Capitol, I kept walking and muttering to myself. “These are my people Bush is attacking. My constituents. My staff. My closest advisers.” In the cold and dark of Washington, I called one of my aides back in San Francisco and pledged that I was “going to do something about it” as soon as I returned home.

The law in our state was no different from the law in every other state. Same-sex unions could not be recognized by the local assessor-recorder’s office. They were illegal. As I explained to aides my willingness to now defy that law, I held up a copy of the California Constitution. In Article I, the first section promises that “all people are by nature free and independent and have inalienable rights.” Among these rights are pursuing and obtaining “safety, happiness and privacy.” It was not until Section 7.5 that these rights were then abridged: “Only a marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.” This not only contradicted the first section but was discriminatory on its face.

My top staff didn’t disagree with my reading, but almost to a person they were opposed to my taking on the issue. Steve Kawa, my chief of staff, a gay Bostonian whose accent cut through all nonsense, pulled me aside and spoke from his heart. His father had renounced him for being gay, and he wanted nothing more than to live in an America where homophobia was no longer the norm. But swinging open the doors to the city clerk’s office and inviting gay men and lesbian women to the marriage altar was political suicide, he argued. We were new to office, for one thing. And polls showed that less than one third of Californians supported gay marriage.

The “go it slow” admonition was the mother’s milk of Democratic politics. In the endless battle for the hearts and minds of moderates, it seemed the only feasible way for a Democrat to get elected and govern. But this was San Francisco, and we were talking about equal protection under the law for a class of people whose ostracism by family, friends, and community had brought them to San Francisco in the first place. If not here, where? Eric Jaye, one of my campaign consultants, could see my quandary. I was caught between my conscience and the sound political advice of the people closest to me. We had several late-night conversations on the phone. “What the f— are you doing here? Why did we work so hard to win if you can’t do something bold?” he asked. “This is a short life, Gavin. Your time as a politician to get things done is just a blip.”

I thought back to my model for the wine store. The entire purpose was to turn the staid on its head and create a new reality. I called Joyce Newstat, my policy director, who was also gay. “We need to do this,” I told her. She could hear in my voice that I had made up my mind. “OK, but we can’t afford to take a wrong step,” she said. “Gays and lesbians have a history of being blindsided, and you don’t want to become part of that narrative. Give me a week or two to reach out to the community.” Joyce sat down with Kate Kendell, the brilliant executive director of the National Center for Lesbian Rights, based in San Francisco. “Who is this guy?” Kendell wondered. “He can’t just come waltzing in here and upset the delicate balance we’ve taken years to achieve.” Joyce told her I couldn’t be talked out of it, that it had become internalized after I had gone to Washington and heard the words of bigotry ring out in the Capitol. “Well, OK. But if he’s going to do it, he has to do it right,” Kendell said. She directed her attorneys at the center to work with our team on fashioning a plan.

I then went to Mabel Teng, my former colleague on the board of supervisors who was now the assessor-recorder of San Francisco. I asked her what complications would be presented to her official duties if we allowed same-sex marriages at city hall. Mabel, who began her career in politics as an activist with Jesse Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition, did not surprise me with her reply. “It would be no problem at all, Mayor.” The marriage of a man and a man, or a woman and a woman, would require hardly any change to the paperwork. Rather than “man and wife,” they would show up in her computer as “Applicant One” and “Applicant Two.”

Alarmed by my plans, my father and Uncle Brennan and their close friend Joe Cotchett — each one steeped in law and politics but only Joe standing six foot four and a former Special Forces paratrooper —attempted a last-minute intervention. They lured me to the Balboa Cafe for dinner and wine. They weren’t the kind to beat around the bush. Did I realize that I was about to torpedo my political career?

Joe got right in my face. “Why are you doing this, Gavin?”

“I’ll tell you why I’m doing this,” I said defiantly. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

I could not have given him a more simple and true answer, and it seemed to hit Joe, who had built his career out of representing the underdog, right in the gut.

“OK,” he said in a different voice. “Then let’s do it.”

With that, my father and uncle went quiet. Not another word was said about it. I left there that night thinking that even my Newsom kin, the ones who had my best interests at heart, could get it wrong from time to time. While I was open to skepticism and second-guessing, indeed I welcomed such a process, in the end I had to trust my own gut. On the matter of civil rights for all Californians, there was no turning back. As for big Joe Cotchett, he ended up joining the ranks of lawyers fighting for the legal right to same-sex marriage.

From “Young Man in a Hurry: A Memoir of Discovery” by Gavin Newsom, published by Penguin Press, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2026 by Gavin Newsom.

There are two, seemingly irreconcilable, stories of how the Palisades fire became a deadly and destructive behemoth dominating post-fire discourse. One is told by the residents who lived through it, and the other by the government officials who responded to it.

Government officials have routinely argued they had little agency to change the outcome of a colossal fire fanned by intense winds. Palisadians point to a string of government missteps they say clearly led to and exacerbated the disaster.

Officials’ unwillingness to acknowledge any mistakes has only sharpened residents’ focus on them, functionally bringing to a grinding halt any discourse around how the two groups can work to prevent the next disaster.

Instead, residents have been left feeling gaslighted by their own government, while fire officials struggle to navigate the backlash to new fire safety measures.

When officials and residents do talk solutions, the former tend to emphasize personal responsibility — most prominently, Zone Zero, which will require residents to remove flammable materials and plants near their homes — while the latter often push for greater government responsibility: a bolstered fire service and a beefed-up water system.

The residents’ account goes like this:

The Fire Department failed to put out the Lachman fire a week prior. Mayor Karen Bass then left the country during dangerous weather while the deputy mayor for public safety position was vacant after Brian K. Williams, who formerly held the role, was put on leave after allegedly making a bomb threat against City Hall. L.A.’s city Fire Department officials failed to deploy 1,000 firefighters in advance of the fire and did not call for firefighters to work extended hours, while dozens of fire engines were out of commission at the time, waiting for repairs.

An aircraft drops fire retardant on the Palisades fire on Jan. 8, 2025.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Meanwhile the L.A. Department of Water and Power left a water reservoir designed for firefighting empty and the city failed to analyze how it would evacuate the community.

However, when government officials — be it the mayor, the fire chief or the governor — describe the fire, they tell a different story:

The day after the fire erupted, Bass placed some of the blame on climate change, which some scientists argue has exacerbated fires in the area by increasing the frequency and intensity of hot, dry and windy conditions. Fire officials stressed that the winds during the first few days of the fires were so strong that there was little even the best-equipped fire service could do and that the fire grew so large that there wasn’t a single fire hydrant system in the world that could handle the demand.

Many residents don’t deny that, under such extreme conditions and after the fire reached a certain scale and ferocity, the destruction became inevitable — and there are many who would just like to move on from January 2025.

However, others remain frustrated that these official versions of the story do not acknowledge the government’s failure to prepare for such conditions and its failure to stop the fire before it passed the threshold of inevitability. Indeed, at times, officials have shied away from these uncomfortable discussions to shield themselves from potential liability.

One telling example: On the one-year anniversary of the fire, residents gathered to voice these frustrations at a protest in the heart of the neighborhood. But when Bass was asked to comment on the event, she dismissed it as an unfit way to commemorate the anniversary and accused organizers of profiting off the disaster.

Survivors gathered in Palisades Village to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the Palisades fire on Jan. 7, 2026.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

This sort of dismissal has essentially forestalled any constructive discussions of climate change, the limits of the fire service and water systems and proposals like Zone Zero, since so many Palisadians now feel like any of that is just a fig leaf for the government’s agency and responsibility, and not a good faith discussion of how to solve the wildfire problem.

The reality is, how climate change is influencing wildfires in Southern California is still a subject of debate among scientists. That doesn’t mean that local leaders need to sit on their hands and wait for consensus. Experts can easily point to a litany of steps that can be taken to better protect residents, regardless of how profound the impact is of global warming on fire risk in the region.

Fire scientists and fire service veterans (who have the pleasure of speaking freely in retirement) argue both personal responsibility and government responsibility play key roles in preventing disasters:

Home hardening and defensible space slow down the dangerous chain reaction in which a wildfire jumps into an urban area and spreads from house to house. It is then the responsibility of a prepared and capable fire service to use that extra time to stop the destruction in its tracks.

The bottom line is that neither the government’s story nor the residents’ story of the Palisades fire is fundamentally wrong. And neither is fully complete.

The conversations around fire preparedness that need to happen next will require both homeowners and government officials to acknowledge they both have real agency and responsibility to shape the outcome of the next fire.

More recent wildfire news

Mayor Karen Bass personally directed the watering down of the city Fire Department’s after-action report on the Palisades fire in an attempt to limit the city’s legal liability, my colleague Alene Tchekmedyian reports. The revelations come after Bass repeatedly denied any involvement in the editing of the report to downplay failures.

Last Thursday, California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta announced his office had opened a civil rights investigation into the fire preparations and response for the Eaton fire, looking for any potential disparities in the historically Black west Altadena, my colleague Grace Toohey reports. West Altadena received late evacuation alerts, and officials allocated limited firefighting resources to the neighborhood.

Meanwhile, the federal government is hard at work attempting to unify federal firefighting resources within the Department of the Interior — including from the Bureau of Land Management and National Park Service — into one U.S. Wildland Fire Service by the end of the year. The effort does not yet include the federal government’s largest firefighting team in the U.S. Forest Service. Because it is housed under the Department of Agriculture, not the Department of the Interior, merging it into the U.S. Wildland Fire Service would probably require congressional approval.

A few last things in climate news

An investigation from my colleague Hayley Smith found that, as Southern California’s top air pollution authority weighed a proposal to phase out gas-powered appliances, it was inundated with at least 20,000 AI-generated emails opposing the measure. When staff reached out to a subset of people listed as submitters of the comments, only five responded, with three saying they had no knowledge of the letters. The authority ultimately scrapped the proposal.

The National Science Foundation announced last week that a supercomputer in Wyoming used by thousands of scientists to simulate and research the climate would be transferred from a federally funded research institute to an unnamed “third-party operator.” It left scientists shocked and concerned.

The Department of Energy has made new nuclear energy a priority; however, no new commercial-scale nuclear facilities are currently under construction, and it’s unclear how the U.S., which imports most of the uranium used by its current reactors, would fuel any new nuclear power plants. These sorts of technical challenges have vexed nuclear advocates who are fighting against a decades-long stagnation in nuclear development, triggered primarily by safety concerns.

This is the latest edition of Boiling Point, a newsletter about climate change and the environment in the American West. Sign up here to get it in your inbox. And listen to our Boiling Point podcast here.

For more wildfire news, follow @nohaggerty on X and @nohaggerty.bsky.social on Bluesky.

Feb. 16 (UPI) — California Gov. Gavin Newsom announced an agreement with Britain on Monday that will bring $1 billion in investments into his state.

The climate agreement sets a framework for British companies to expand their access to California’s market and for cooperation on decarbonization and clean energy technology.

British energy company Octopus Energy is among the companies that will expand its access in California. It has committed nearly $1 billion to clean energy companies and projects based in California. Newsom announced the partnership after meeting with British Energy Secretary Ed Miliband in London.

“California is the best place in America to invest in a clean economy because we set clear goals and we deliver,” Newsom said in a statement.

“Today, we deepened our partnership with the United Kingdom on climate action and welcomed nearly a billion dollars in clean tech investment from Octopus Energy. California will continue showing the world how we can turn innovation and ambition into climate action.”

Newsom visited Octopus Energy’s headquarters in London during his trip.

California has climate agreements with several countries around the world. During the 2025 United Nations Climate Change Conference, it entered new partnerships with Chile, Colombia, Nigeria and Brazil.

President Donald Trump criticized the new agreement between California and Britain on Monday, saying it was “inappropriate” for the two sides to be working with each other.

“The worst thing that the U.K. can do is get involved in Gavin,” Trump told POLITICO. “If they did to the U.K. what he did to California, this will not be a very successful venture.”

The Trump administration has rolled back federal climate-focused initiatives, most recently eliminating greenhouse gas emissions standards.

In his first five years as California’s lieutenant governor, Gavin Newsom made more than $4 million from his wineries, restaurants, hotels and other hospitality businesses.

And that’s on top of his government salary, which is $142,577 a year.

The former mayor of San Francisco is the first candidate in the 2018 race for governor to release his state and federal tax returns. He filed jointly with his wife, the actress and filmmaker Jennifer Siebel Newsom. On Monday, Newsom allowed reporters to review — but not photocopy — six years of the couple’s returns, from 2010 to 2015, at the San Francisco offices of his campaign consultants, SCN Strategies.

Newsom, the early front-runner in the June 2018 primary, cites his business expertise as a key credential in his campaign for governor. With the help of the wealthy Getty family, he opened a San Francisco wine store in 1992, expanding it over the last 25 years into a network of nearly two dozen businesses known as PlumpJack Group. They include Napa Valley wineries, hotels in Lake Tahoe and Palm Springs, and bars and restaurants in San Francisco.

Here’s what you should know about the tax documents:

The Newsoms reported an average of $1.4 million in income from 2010 to 2015

The Newsoms’ tax returns provided a window into a complex web of the family’s financial interests throughout California. The couple’s lowest adjusted gross income since 2011 was $1.37 million in 2013.

The Newsoms’ average income and tax bills in the years 2010-2015 were:

• Adjusted gross income: $1.4 million.
• Federal tax rate: 26.4%.
• Rate of charitable giving compared to income: 6.8%.
• Federal taxes paid: $384,687.
• State taxes paid: $139,146.

PlumpJack Group was founded by Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom as PlumpJack Wine in 1992. Newsom is still a partner in the company, which has expanded to include restaurants, bars and resorts in addition to three wineries and two wine shops, including this store in San Francisco. (Phil Willon/Los Angeles Times)

(Phil Willon/Los Angeles Times)

2015 was a good year for the Newsoms

The couple, who now live in Marin County, reported an adjusted gross income of $1,720,383 in 2015, the highest amount they earned in the past six years. The Newsoms’ total tax bill came to $753,866, with $568,333 going to the Internal Revenue Service and $185,533 to the California treasury. They donated $62,973 to charity, including a $1,000 contribution to the Bay Area Discovery Museum.

The Newsoms’ biggest income source came from Airelle Wines Inc., which runs Napa wineries, at roughly $790,000.

They made hundreds of thousands of dollars selling silver bars — and donated more than $100,000 to charities each year

• The tax returns show the Newsoms made hundreds of thousands of dollars trading silver bars during Newsom’s tenure as lieutenant governor. In 2011 alone, they turned a profit of $499,452 on the sale of silver bars.

• Newsom’s 2013 book, “Citizenville,” appeared to be a moderate money-maker. From 2011 to 2015, Newsom reported a total of $370,325 in income as an author and by working in media. A spokesman for the lieutenant governor said he was unsure if some of that total included money Newsom was paid for his former talk show on Current TV, “The Gavin Newsom Show,” which aired in 2012 and 2013.

• The Newsoms reported an average of $102,212 in charitable donations each year — nearly 7 percent of their income. But apart from clothing and toy donations to the Salvation Army and Goodwill, it was unclear which charities received money from the couple. Because the Newsoms hold interests in a wide network of partnerships, corporations and trusts, and most of their charitable donations were channeled through them, it is unclear which organizations received the money. A spokesman for Newsom’s political campaign said some of the charities the couple donated money to included the Law Center to Prevent Gun Violence, Best Buddies and Planned Parenthood LA.

Newsom owns a Tesla, and received tax credit for it

Over the years, the Newsoms have received a few tax breaks for their rapidly growing, environmentally conscious family.

• Newsom received a $7,500 “Alternative Motor Vehicle Credit” on his 2012 taxes after buying a Tesla Model S.
• He received a $500 tax credit in 2012 for installing energy-efficient doors, windows and insulation.
• In 2010, the Newsoms’ daughter Montana was their only dependent. Then came their son Hunter in 2011. Daughter Brooklynn arrived in 2013. The Newsoms’ fourth child, Dutch, will make his grand entrance on the 2016 return.

Releasing his taxes ratchets up the pressure on his rivals to do the same

Newsom’s release of his tax returns puts pressure on his rivals to make theirs public too. The move could be a sign that the lieutenant governor is banking on revelations that he thinks could be useful to his campaign, such as information detailing Antonio Villaraigosa’s income sources in the years since he left office as mayor of Los Angeles.

Villaraigosa and Newsom’s other chief rival, state Treasurer John Chiang, have agreed to make public their tax returns, but have not yet specified when they will do so. Another candidate, Delaine Eastin, a former superintendent of public instruction, has also vowed to release her tax returns.

A spokesman for the leading Republican in the race, venture capitalist John Cox, said it was too early to say whether he would make his tax returns public.

phil.willon@latimes.com

Twitter: @philwillon

michael.finnegan@latimes.com

Twitter: @finneganLAT

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SACRAMENTO — Gavin Newsom writes in his upcoming memoir about San Francisco’s highborn Getty family fitting him in Brioni suits “appropriate to meet a king” when he was 20 years old. Then he flew aboard their private “Jetty” to Spain for a royal princess’s debutante-style party.

Back home, real life wasn’t as grand.

In an annual performance for their single mom, Newsom and his sister would pretend to find problems with the fancy clothes his dad’s friends, the heirs of ruthless oil baron J. Paul Getty, sent for Christmas. Poor fit. Wrong color. Not my style. The ritual gave her an excuse to return the gifts and use the store credit on presents for her children she placed under the tree.

California’s 41st governor, a possible suitor for the White House, opens up about the duality of his upbringing in his new book. Newsom details the everyday struggle living with his mom after his parents divorced and occasional interludes into his father’s life charmed by the Gettys’ affluence, including that day when the Gettys outfitted him in designer clothes at a luxury department store.

“I walked out understanding that this was the split personality of my life,” Newsom writes in “Young Man in a Hurry.”

For years, Newsom asserted that his “one-dimensional” public image as a slick, privileged politician on a path to power paved with Getty oil money fails to tell the whole story.

“I’m not trying to be something I’m not,” Newsom said in a recent interview. “I’m not trying to talk about, you know, ‘I was born in a town called Hope with no running water.’ That’s not what this book is about. But it’s a very different portrayal than the one I think 9 out of 10 people believe.”

As he explores a 2028 presidential run and basks in the limelight as one of President Trump’s most vociferous critics, the book offers the Democratic politician a chance to write his own narrative and address the skeletons in his closet before opponents begin to exploit his past.

A book tour, which is set to begin Feb. 21 in Nashville, also gives Newsom a reason to travel the country, meet voters and promote his life story without officially entering the race. He’s expected to make additional stops in Georgia, South Carolina, New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles.

The governor describes the book as a “memoir of discovery” that sent him interviewing family members and friends and digging through troves of old documents about his lineage that his mother never spoke about and his father smoothed over. Learning about his family history, the good and the bad, Newsom said, helped him understand and accept himself. Mark Arax, an author and former Los Angeles Times journalist, was his ghostwriter.

“I’ve changed the opinion of myself,” Newsom said when asked if he believed the book would revise his glossy public image. “It kind of rocked so many parts of my life, and kind of cracked things open. And I started to understand where my anxieties come from and why I’m overcompensating in certain areas.”

Newsom writes that his interest in politics brought him and his father, William, closer. His mother, Tessa, on the other hand, didn’t share his father’s enthusiasm.

She warned him to get out while he still could, worried her only son would eschew his true self.

“My mother did not want that world for me: the shrewd marriage of tall husbands and tall wives that kept each year’s Cotillion Debutante Ball stocked with children of the same; the gritted teeth behind the social smiles; the spectator sport of who was in and who was out based on so-and-so’s dinner party guest list,” Newsom wrote.

At the heart of her concern was her belief that Newsom’s “obsessive drive” into business and politics was in response to his upbringing and an effort to solve “the riddle” of his identity from his learning disorder, dyslexia, and the two different worlds he inhabited.

“As I grew up trying to grasp which of these worlds, if either, suited me best, she had worried about the persona I was constructing to cover up what she considered a crack at my core,” Newsom writes. “If my remaking was skim plaster, she feared, it would crumble. It would not hold me into adulthood.”

Newsom’s mother was 19 years old when she married his father, then 32. He learned through writing the book that his mother hailed from a “family of brilliant and daring misfits who had carved new paths in botany and medicine and left-wing politics,” he writes.

There was also secret pain and struggles with mental health. His maternal grandfather, a World War II POW, turned to the bottle after returning home. One night he told his three young daughters to line up in front of the fireplace so he could shoot them, but stopped when his wife walked in the door and took the gun from his hand. He committed suicide years later.

Newsom’s father’s family was full of more traditional Democrats and Irish Catholic storytellers who worked in banking, homebuilding, law enforcement and law. Newsom describes his paternal grandfather as one of the “thinkers behind the throne” for former California Gov. Edmund “Pat” Brown, but his family never held public office despite his dad’s bids for the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and the California Legislature.

The failed campaigns left his father in financial and emotional turmoil that crippled his marriage when Newsom was a small boy. A divorce set the stage for an unusual contrasting existence for the would-be governor, offering him brief exposures to the wealth and power of the Gettys through his dad.

Newsom said he moved casually between the rich and poor neighborhoods of San Francisco as a boy.

“It was a wonder how effortlessly I glided because the two realms of my life, the characters of my mother’s world and the characters of my father’s world, did not fit together in the least,” Newsom writes.

Mayor Gavin Newsom and his dad, Judge William Newsom, have lunch at the Balboa Cafe in San Francisco.

(Christina Koci Hernandez / San Francisco Chronicle via Getty Images)

Though William Alfred Newsom III went on to become an appellate court justice, Newsom’s father was best known for his role delivering ransom money to the kidnappers of J. Paul Getty’s grandson. He served as an adviser to the family without pay and a paid administrator of the $4 billion family trust.

The governor wrote in the book that the ties between the two families go back three generations. His father was close friends with Getty’s sons John Paul Jr. and Gordon since childhood when they became like his sixth and seventh siblings at Newsom’s grandparents’ house.

Gordon Getty in particular considered Newsom’s father his “best-best friend.” Newsom’s dad helped connect the eccentric music composer “to the outside world,” the governor wrote.

“My father had this way of creating a safe space for Gordon to open up,” Newsom writes. “He became Gordon’s whisperer, his interpreter and translator, a bridge to their friends, a bridge to Gordon’s own children.”

San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom and his sister, Hilary Newsom, in a promotional portrait for the Search for the Cause campaign, which raises funds for cancer research, on Nov. 21, 2025.

(Caroline Schiff/Getty Images)

His father’s friendship with Gordon Getty exposed Newsom and his younger sister, Hillary, to a world far beyond their family’s own means. Gordon’s wife, Ann, and Newsom’s father organized elaborate adventures for the Gettys’ four sons and the Newsom children.

Newsom describes fishing on the Rogue River and riding in a helicopter while studying polar bears on the shores of the Hudson Bay in Canada. He recalled donning tuxedos and carrying toy guns pretending to be James Bond on a European yacht vacation and soaring over the Serengeti in a hot air balloon during an East African safari.

Throughout his travels, Newsom often blended in with the Gettys’ brown-haired sons. He wrote that the actor Jack Nicholson once mistakenly called him one of the “Getty boys” at a party in a 16th-century palazzo in Venice where guests arrived via gondola. Newsom didn’t correct him.

“Had I shared this encounter with my mother, she likely would have asked me if deception was something I practiced whenever I hobnobbed with the Gettys,” Newsom said in the book. “Fact is, I was always aware of the line that separated us from the Gettys. Not because they went out of their way to make us aware of it but because we, as good Newsoms, paid constant mind to the distinction.”

Newsom wrote that his mother seemed to begrudge the excursions when her children returned home. She raised them in a much more ordinary existence. Newsom describes his father’s presence as “episodic.”

“For a day or two, she’d give us the silent treatment, and then we’d all fall back into the form of a life trying to make ends meet,” he wrote. “After enough vacations came and went, a cone of silence took hold.”

Newsom’s mother worked as an assistant retail buyer, a bookkeeper, a waitress at a Mexican restaurant, a development director for a nonprofit and a real estate agent — holding as many as three jobs at once — to provide for her children. His mother’s sister and brother-in-law helped care for them when they could, but he likened himself to a latchkey kid because of the amount of time he and his sister spent alone.

They moved five times in 10 years in search of a “better house in a better neighborhood” with good schools, taking the family from San Francisco to the Marin County suburbs. Though his mother owned a home, she often rented out rooms to bring in extra money.

Tired of his mother complaining about finances and his father not coming through, Newsom wrote that he took on a paper route.

In the book, Newsom describes his struggles with dyslexia and how the learning disorder undercut his self-esteem when he was an emotionally vulnerable child.

Eager to make himself something more than an awkward kid with sweaty palms and a bowl haircut who couldn’t read, Newsom mimicked Remington Steele, the suave character on the popular 1980s detective show. He chugged down glassfuls of raw eggs like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky” and ran across town and back like a prizefighter in training.

He found confidence in high school sports, but his struggle to find himself continued into young adulthood. Newsom wrote that he watched tapes of motivational guru Tony Robbins and heeded his advice to remake yourself in the image of someone you admire. For Newsom, that became Robbins himself.

“Find a person who embodies all of the outward traits of personality, bearing, charisma, language, and power lacking in yourself,” Newsom described the philosophy in the book. “Study that person. Copy that person. The borrowed traits may fit awkwardly at first, but don’t fret. You’ll be surprised by how fast the pose becomes you, and you the pose.”

His father scoffed at the self-help gurus and nurtured his interest in business.

More than a half-dozen friends and family members, including Gordon Getty, invested equal shares to help him launch a wine shop in San Francisco. Newsom named the business, which expanded to include restaurants, hotels and wineries, “PlumpJack,” the nickname of Shakespeare’s fictional character Sir John Falstaff and the title of Gordon Getty’s opera.

“Gordon’s really inspired me to be bolder and more audacious. He’s inspired me to be more authentic,” Newsom said. “The risks I take in business … just trying to march to the beat of a different drummer and to be a little bolder. That’s my politics. But I also think he played a huge role in that, in terms of shaping me in that respect as well.”

Newsom described Gordon and Ann Getty as like family. The Gettys also became the biggest investors in his wineries and among his largest political donors.

In an interview, Newsom said there are many days when he feels his mother “absolutely” was right to worry about the facade of politics and the mold her son stuffed himself into.

Gavin Newsom heads for his home neighborhood on Nov. 3, 2003, to cast hisvote for San Francisco mayor.

(Mike Kepka / San Francisco Chronicle via Getty Images)

He described the day the recall against him qualified for the ballot amid the COVID-19 pandemic as humbling and humiliating, though it later failed by a wide margin. Still today, he said, there’s a voice in his head constantly questioning why he’s in politics, what he’s exposing his wife and children to and doing with his life.

By choosing a career as an elected official despite his mother’s warnings, Newsom ultimately picked his father’s world and accomplished his father’s dream of taking office. But he said the book taught him that so much of his own more gutsy positions, such as his early support for gay marriage, and his hustle were from his mother.

Newsom said he’s accepted that he can’t control which version of himself people choose to see. Writing the book felt cathartic, he said, and left him more comfortable taking off his mask.

“It allowed me to understand better my motivations, my purpose, my meaning, my mission… who my mom and dad were and who I am as a consequence of them and what truly motivates me,” Newsom said. “There’s a freedom. There’s a real freedom. And it’s nice. It’s just so much nicer than the plaster of the past.”