katie porter

You may have missed it, what with President Trump’s endless pyrotechnics, but California voters will decide in November who succeeds Gavin Newsom, the highest-profile governor since the Terminator returned to Hollywood.

Unfortunately for those attempting to civically engage, the current crop of contenders is, shall we say, less than enthralling.

In alphabetical order (because there is seriously no prohibitive front-runner), the major candidates are Xavier Becerra, Chad Bianco, Ian Calderon, Steve Hilton, Matt Mahan, Katie Porter, John Slavet, Tom Steyer, Eric Swalwell, Tony Thurmond, Antonio Villaraigosa and Betty Yee.

Whew! (Pause to catch breath.)

Armed with that knowledge, you can now go out and win yourself a few bar bets by asking someone to name, say, even two of those running.

Meantime, fear not. Your friendly columnists Mark Z. Barabak and Anita Chabria have surveyed the field, weighed the odds, pondered California’s long history and concluded … they have absolutely no clue what will happen in the June 2 primary, much less who’ll take the oath of office come next January.

Here, they discuss the race that has Californians sitting on neither pins nor needles.

Chabria: Mark, I do this for a living and I’m having trouble summoning up any interest in this race — yet, anyway.

Part of my problem is that national events are so all-consuming and fast-moving that it’s hard to worry about potholes. I admit, I appreciate that our White House-contending governor is fighting the big fight. But remind me again, what’s a governor supposed to do?

Barabak: End homelessness. Elevate our public schools to first-class rank. Make housing and college tuition affordable. Eliminate crime. End disease and poverty. Put a chicken in every pot. Make pigs fly and celestial angels sing. And then, in their second year …

Seriously, there’s a pretty large gap between what voters would like to see happen and what a governor — any governor — can plausibly deliver. That said, if our next chief executive can help bring about meaningful improvement in just a few of those areas, pigs and angels excepted, I’d venture to say a goodly number of Californians would be pleased.

Broadly speaking, my sense when talking to voters is they want our next governor to push back on Trump and his most egregious excesses. But not as a means of raising their national profile or positioning themselves for a run at the White House. And not to the exclusion of bettering their lives by paying attention to the nitty and the gritty, like making housing and higher education more readily available and, yes, fixing potholes.

Chabria: All that is fair enough. As the mom of two teens, I’d especially like to see our university system be more affordable and accessible, so we all have our personal priorities. Let’s agree to this starting point: The new governor can’t just chew gum and walk. She or he must be able to eat a full lunch while running.

But so far, candidates haven’t had their policy positions break through to a big audience, state-focused or not — and many of them share broadly similar positions. Let’s look at the bits of daylight that separate them because, Republicans aside, there aren’t canyon-size differences among the many candidates.

San José Mayor Matt Mahan, the newest entry in the race, is attempting to position himself as a “can’t-we-all-just-get-along” centrist. How do you think that will go over with voters?

Barabak: You’re having me tiptoe uncomfortably close to the Make A Prediction Zone, which I assiduously avoid. As I’ve said before, I’m smart enough to know what I don’t know. (Many readers will doubtless question the underlying premise of the former if not the latter part of that statement.)

I think there is at least a potential for Mahan to tap into a desire among voters to lower the hostilities just a bit and ease up on our constant partisan war-footing.

You might not know it if you marinate in social media, or watch the political shout-fest shows where, as in nature, the loudest voices carry. But there are a great many people working two or even three jobs, ferrying their kids to soccer practice, worrying about paying their utility and doctor bills, caring for elderly parents or struggling in other ways to keep their heads above water. And they’re less captivated by the latest snappy clap-back on TikTok than looking for help dealing with the many challenges they face.

I was struck by something Katie Porter said when we recently sat down for a conversation in San Francisco. The former Orange County congresswoman can denigrate Trump with the best of ‘em. But she said, “I am very leery of anyone who does not acknowledge that we had problems and policy challenges long before Donald Trump ever raised his orange head on the political horizon.”

California’s homelessness and affordability crises were years in the making, she noted, and need to be addressed as such.

I heard Antonio Villaraigosa suggest something similar in last week‘s gubernatorial debate, when the former Los Angeles mayor noted the state has spent billions of dollars in recent years trying to drastically reduce homelessness with, at best, middling results. “We cannot be afraid to look in the mirror,” he said.

That suggests to me Mahan is not the only candidate who appreciates that simply saying “Trump = Bad” over and over is not what voters want to hear.

Chabria: Certainly potholes and high electricity bills existed before Trump. But if the midterms don’t favor Democrats, the next governor will probably face a generational challenge to protect the civil rights of residents of this diverse state. It’s not about liking or disliking Trump, but ensuring that our governor has a plan if attacks on immigrants, the LBGTQ+ community and citizens in general grow worse.

I do think this will matter to voters — but I agree with you that candidates can’t simply rage against Trump. They have to offer some substance.

Porter, Swalwell and Becerra, who have the most national experience and could be expected to articulate that sort of vision, haven’t done much other than to commit to the fight. Steyer and Thurmond want to abolish ICE, which a governor couldn’t do. Mahan has said focusing on state policy is the best offense.

I don’t think this has to be a charisma-driven vision, which is what Newsom has so effectively offered. But it needs to bring resoluteness in a time of fear, which none of the candidates to my mind have been able to project so far.

But this all depends on election results in November. If Democrats take Congress and are able to exert a check to this terrible imbalance, then bring on the asphalt and fix the roads. I think a lot of what voters want from a governor won’t fully be known until after November.

Barabak: The criticism of this collective field is that it’s terminally boring, as if we’re looking to elect a stand-up comic, a chanteuse or a juggler. I mean, this is the home of Hollywood! Isn’t it the birthright of every California citizen to be endlessly entertained?

At least that’s what the pundits and political know-it-alls, stifling yawns as they constantly refresh their feeds on Bluesky or X, would have you believe.

Voters elected Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger as governor — that’s two movie stars in the state’s 175-year history — and, from the way the state is often perceived, you’d think celebrity megawattage is one of the main prerequisites for a chief executive.

But if you look back, California has seen a lot more George Deukmejian, Pete Wilson and Gray Davis types, which is to say bland-persona governors whom no one would mistake for box-office gold.

It seems to me no coincidence that Schwarzenegger, who arrived as a political novelty, was replaced by Jerry Brown, who was as politically tried-and-true as they come. That political pendulum never stops swinging.

Which suggests voters will be looking for someone less like our gallivanting, movie matinee governor and someone more inclined to keep their head down in Sacramento and focus on the state and its needs.

Who will that be? I wouldn’t wage a nickel trying to guess. Would you care to?

Chabria: I certainly don’t care to predict, but I’ll say this: We may not need or get another Terminator. But one of these candidates needs to put some pepper flakes in the paste if they want to break out of the pack.

SAN FRANCISCO — Katie Porter’s still standing, which is saying something.

The last time a significant number of people tuned into California‘s low-frequency race for governor was in October, when Porter’s political obituary was being written in bold type.

Immediately after a snappish and off-putting TV interview, Porter showed up in a years-old video profanely reaming a staff member for — the humanity! — straying into the video frame during her meeting with a Biden Cabinet member.

Not a good look for a candidate already facing questions about her temperament and emotional regulation. (Hang on, gentle reader, we’ll get to that whole gendered double-standard thing in a moment.)

The former Orange County congresswoman had played to the worst stereotypes and that was that. Her campaign was supposedly kaput.

But, lo, these several months later, Porter remains positioned exactly where she’d been before, as one of the handful of top contenders in a race that remains stubbornly formless and utterly wide open.

Did she ever think of exiting the contest, as some urged, and others plainly hoped to see? (The surfacing of that surly 2021 video, with the timing and intentionality of a one-two punch, was clearly not a coincidence.)

No, she said, not for a moment.

“Anyone who thinks that you can just push over Katie Porter has never tried to do it,” she said.

Porter apologized and expressed remorse for her tetchy behavior. She promised to do better.

“You definitely learn from your mistakes,” the Democrat said this week over a cup of chai in San Francisco’s Financial District. “I really have and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how do I show Californians who I am and that I really care about people who work for me. I need to earn back their trust and that’s what campaigns are literally about.”

She makes no excuse for acting churlish and wouldn’t bite when asked about that double standard — though she did allow as how Democratic leader John Burton, who died not long before people got busy digging Porter’s grave, was celebrated for his gruff manner and lavish detonation of f-bombs.

“It was a reminder,” she said, pivoting to the governor’s race, “that there have been other politicians who come on hot, come on strong and fight for what’s right and righteous and California has embraced them.”

Voters, she said, “want someone who will not back down.”

Porter warmed to the subject.

“If you are never gonna hurt anyone’s feelings, you are never gonna take [JPMorgan Chase Chief Executive] Jamie Dimon to task for not thinking about how his workers can’t afford to make ends meet. If you want everyone to love you, you are never gonna say to a big pharma CEO, ‘You didn’t make this cancer drug anymore. You just got richer, right?’ That is a feistiness that I’m proud of.”

At the same, Porter suggested, she wants to show there’s more to her persona than the whiteboard-wielding avenger that turned her into a viral sensation. The inquisitorial stance was, she said, her role as a congressional overseer charged with holding people accountable. Being governor is different. More collaborative. Less confrontational.

Her campaign approach has been to “call everyone, go everywhere” — even places Porter may not be welcomed — to listen and learn, build relationships and show “my ability to craft a compromise, my ability to learn and to change my mind.”

“All of that is really hard to convey,” she said, “in those whiteboard moments.”

The rap on this year’s pack of gubernatorial hopefuls is they’re a collective bore, as though the lack of A-list sizzle and failure to throw off sparks is some kind of mortal sin.

Porter doesn’t buy that.

“When we say boring, I think what we’re really saying is ‘I’m not 100% sure how all this is going to work out.’ People are waiting for some thing to happen, some coronation of our next governor. We’re not gonna have that.”

Gavin Newsom, she noted, was a high-profile former San Francisco mayor who spent eight years as lieutenant governor before winning the state’s top job. His predecessor was the dynastic Jerry Brown.

None of those running this time have that political pedigree, or the Sacramento backgrounds of Newsom or Brown, which, Porter suggested, is not a bad thing.

“I actually think this race has the potential to be really, really exciting for California,” she said. “… I think everyone in this race comes in with a little bit of a fresh energy, and I think that’s really good and healthy.”

Crowding into the conversation was, inevitably, Donald Trump, the sun around which today’s entire political universe turns.

Of course, Porter said, as governor she would stand up to the president. His administration’s actions in Minneapolis have been awful. His stalling on disaster relief for California is grotesque.

But, she said, Trump didn’t cause last year’s firestorm. He didn’t make housing in California obscenely expensive for the last many decades.

“When my children say ‘I don’t know if I want to go to college in California because we don’t have enough dorm housing,’ Trump has done plenty of horrible attacks on higher ed,” Porter said. “But that’s a homegrown problem that we need to tackle.”

Indeed, she’s “very leery of anyone who does not acknowledge that we had problems and policy challenges long before Donald Trump ever raised his orange head on the political horizon.”

Although California needs “someone who’s going to [buffer] us against Trump,” Porter said, “you can’t make that an excuse for why you are not tackling these policy changes that need to be.”

She hadn’t finished her tea, but it was time to go. Porter gathered her things.

She’d just spoken at an Urban League forum in San Francisco and was heading across the Bay Bridge to address union workers in Oakland.

The June 2 primary is some ways off. But Porter remains in the fight.