value

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONAKRY, Guinea — It was the middle of the day when Omar Diaw, known by his artist name “Chimere” — French for chimera — approached a blank wall off the main thoroughfare in Guinea’s capital and started spray-painting.

“They know who I am,” he said confidently. Though it wasn’t clear who ”they” were, civilians and police didn’t bat an eye as Diaw’s fellow artists unloaded dozens of paint cans onto the roadside in Conakry.

Graffiti has thrived for years in Diaw’s native Senegal, where the modern urban street art first took off in West Africa. But when he moved to Guinea in 2018 to explore a new place, he said such art was nearly nonexistent.

“It was thought that graffiti was vandalism,” he said.

To win over the public, Diaw took a gentle approach, using graffiti for public awareness campaigns. One of his first was to raise awareness about COVID-19 preventive measures.

“We had to seduce the population,” he said.

The port city of Conakry faces rapid urbanization. Diaw’s graffiti has become an undeniable part of its crowded, concrete-heavy landscape.

His larger-than-life images of famous Guinean musicians and African independence leaders now dwarf the overloaded trucks that drive by. Drying laundry hung over the portrait of the West African resistance fighter Samory Toure.

The tag of Diaw’s graffiti collective, Guinea Ghetto Graff, is on murals all over the city.

Graffiti as it’s known today began in the 1960s and ’70s in the United States. It arrived in West Africa via Dakar, Senegal, in 1988, when the region’s first graffiti artist, Amadou Lamine Ngom, started painting on the city’s walls.

Known by his artist name, “Docta,” Ngom and a group of fellow artists were commissioned the following year to paint murals for an awareness campaign aimed at cleaning up Dakar’s streets.

Ngom, 51, said that at the beginning, aside from such campaigns, he did graffiti mostly at night. He later changed his approach.

“I decided to do it in broad daylight,” he said. “So as not to copy what’s happening in the United States, Europe or elsewhere. To create graffiti that resembles the African reality, taking into account our reality, our values.”

Ngom, who later mentored the teenage Diaw, said communities grew to respect the public artwork since it reflected their lives and experiences.

With the public’s backing, “the authorities didn’t have a choice,” Ngom said.

These days, graffiti has grown more assertive in Senegal, becoming part of the political messaging around antigovernment protests. In Guinea, Diaw’s graffiti has addressed issues such as migration.

Diaw said Conakry’s governor supports much of his work and has given him carte blanche to do it wherever he wants.

As his latest work beside the thoroughfare took shape, passersby began to stop and admire the portrait of Guinea’s military leader, Gen. Mamadi Doumbouya, who took power in a 2021 coup.

A 22-year-old driver, Ousmane Sylla, said he was familiar with Diaw’s gigantic paintings near Conakry’s airport.

“It reminds us of old Guinean musicians. It reminds us of history,” he said. “Graffiti is good for Africa, it’s good for this country, it’s good for everyone. I like it, and it changed the face of our city.”

The next step might be bringing in a wider range of artists.

“I would really like to see more women become a part of this, because they say that [graffiti] is for men,” said Mama Aissata Camara, a rare female artist on Guinea’s graffiti scene.

Risemberg writes for the Associated Press.

A fan who spent hundreds of dollars for tickets to what he thought would be one of LeBron James’ final NBA games is looking to recoup the money in small claims court after it turned out “The Second Deicision” teased by the Lakers superstar had nothing to do with his retirement.

Norwalk resident Andrew Garcia filed a claim Tuesday in Los Angeles County Superior Court that states that James owes him $865.66 because of “fraud, deception, misrepresentation, and any and all basis of legal recovery.”

Garcia told The Times that he spent that amount for two tickets to the Lakers’ game against the Cleveland Cavaliers on March 31, 2026, at Crypto.com Arena , thinking it would be the 40-year-old NBA icon’s final game against the team that drafted him in 2003.

He and other basketball fans were under that impression after James posted Monday on X that he would be announcing “the decision of all decisions” the next day. The post included a video clip teasing “The Second Decision,” a clear reference to 2010’s “The Decision,” in which James famously announced he was going to “take my talents to South Beach” to play for the Miami Heat.

Garcia said he purchased the tickets within 10 minutes of James’ social media post.

“I was like, ‘Holy s—, LeBron is going to retire! We’ve got to get tickets now,’” the 29-year-old Garcia said. “Like, literally, because if he formally makes this announcement, you know, there’s gonna be some significant price changes, right?”

Garcia is a huge fan of the Lakers and James, as well as an avid basketball fan in general, so he thought it would be cool to see the NBA’s all-time leading scorer play for the last time against the team with which he started his career and brought its first title in 2016 after his return from Miami.

“Moments like that, I understand the value,” Garcia said. “There still may be some moderate value [to the tickets], however it’s not the same without him retiring. I remember Kobe’s last year, it was kind of what this would have been, per se, where every ticket was worth a lot. Every game had value. …

“I missed out on that. I was a little bit younger at the time. I obviously wasn’t in a position to where I could just buy tickets unfortunately at that age. I believe I was like 18 or 19 at the time. And that’s one of my biggest regrets as a sports fan. I really wish I could have gotten the Kobe’s last year. So I see this as a potential to kind of make up for what I lost with Kobe.”

But “The Second Decision” ended up having nothing to do with retirement. It was merely a Hennessy ad.

So now Garcia wants his money back.

“There is no circumstance absent him saying he’s gonna retire that I would have bought tickets that far in advance,” Garcia said. “I mean, I buy tickets, but I don’t buy tickets five months’ advance. I’m the kind of person that buys tickets five hours in advance. It was solely, solely, solely based on that. So that’s why I was really thinking, ‘You know what, this might be grounds for a case.’ ”

The Times reached out to an attorney said to be working with James related to the claim but did not receive an immediate response.

In light of everything that has happened this week, though, Garcia said he’d still be willing to pay the same amount of money to see James play during his eventual retirement tour.

“Of course,” Garcia said. “I would probably spend more, because life is all about memories and experiences.”

The University of California’s top leader has raised the “distinct possibility” that financial losses due to the Trump administration’s funding cuts could amount to billions of dollars and extend beyond UCLA to the entire 10-campus system, telling state legislators Wednesday that “the stakes are high and the risks are very real.”

In a letter to dozens of lawmakers obtained by The Times, UC President James B. Milliken said the university is facing “one of the gravest threats in UC’s 157-year history” after the Trump administration cut off more than $500 million in grants to UCLA before demanding a $1.2-billion fine over allegations of campus antisemitism.

Milliken outlined the potential losses at the nation’s preeminent public university system under Trump’s higher education agenda in his strongest and most detailed public words since starting the job Aug. 1, days after funding troubles hit UCLA.

UC “receives over $17 billion per year from the federal government — $9.9 billion in Medicare and Medicaid funding, $5.7 billion in research funding, and $1.9 billion in student financial aid per year,” Milliken wrote in the letter addressed to Sen. Scott Wiener (D-San Francisco), chair of the Joint Legislative Budget Committee. If such funds were lost, Milliken wrote, “we would need at least $4-5 billion per year to minimize the damage.”

“A substantial loss of federal funding would devastate our university and cause enormous harm to our students, our patients, and all Californians. Classes and student services would be reduced, patients would be turned away, tens of thousands of jobs would be lost, and we would see UC’s world-renowned researchers leaving our state for other more seemingly stable opportunities in the US or abroad.”

Milliken, who met with lawmakers in Sacramento last month, penned his message in response to an Aug. 31 letter from Wiener and 33 other legislators, who urged UC leaders to “not to back down in the face of this political shakedown” from President Trump, whose actions the lawmakers said were “an extortion attempt and a page out of the authoritarian playbook.”

In a statement about the letter, a UC spokesperson said the university “is committed to working with leaders in Sacramento and across the country to ensure we have the resources we need to continue generating jobs, life-changing discoveries, and economic opportunity in the face of historic challenges.”

In addition to grant cuts and the $1.2-billion fine demand from UCLA, the Trump administration has also proposed sweeping changes at the Westwood campus. They include the release of detailed admissions data — the government accuses UCLA of illegally considering race when awarding seats — restrictions on protests, and an end to race-related scholarships and diversity hiring programs. The Department of Justice has also called for a ban on gender-affirming care for minors at UCLA healthcare systems.

The Trump administration accuses UCLA of violating civil rights law by not taking antisemitism seriously. Although there have been complaints of antisemitism on campus since the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel and Israel’s ensuing war in Gaza, a number of influential faculty members, staff and students, including many in the Jewish campus community, have said UCLA has made progress on addressing the campus climate.

“Free speech, academic freedom, scientific research, and democracy are values that have led to Jewish flourishing. These attacks on California, on our immigrant communities, on science, and on LGBTQ people stand in stark contrast to Jewish values,” Wiener wrote in the letter whose signatories included members of California Legislative Jewish Caucus, of which Weiner is co-chair.

Wiener’s letter urged UC leaders to fight the government’s demands as the university negotiates with the DOJ.

“Acceding to these reprehensible demands won’t stabilize the UC system; it will betray our values of protecting and celebrating our most vulnerable communities. Giving in will only encourage further unconstitutional behavior by this administration,” said the letter, addressed to Milliken, the UC Board of Regents and UCLA Chancellor Julio Frenk.

“Concessions by UCLA would establish a damaging precedent for extorting public schools in states with leadership that does not bow down to this President,” Wiener and others wrote, who described federal demands as “extortion,” echoing statements by Gov. Gavin Newsom.

“We must resist Trump’s extortion to protect public higher education, the economy, our students and California’s values,” the lawmakers wrote.

Although the university has engaged with the Trump administration to restore UCLA funding, no settlement has been reached and there is a wide gulf between the two sides on what terms would be acceptable.

Newsom has called the government’s proposed fine “ransom,” saying he wants UC to sue the administration and not “bend the knee” to Trump.

But the decision over a lawsuit rests with the independent UC Board of Regents. The governor has appointed many but not all of the regents and sits as a voting member on the 24-person board. Newsom can exercise political sway over its moves but, aside from his vote, has no formal power over the body’s decisions.

COLUMBUS, Ohio — U.S. veterans of the war in Afghanistan are telling a commission reviewing decisions on the 20-year conflict that their experience was not only hell, but also confounding, demoralizing and at times humiliating.

The bipartisan Afghanistan War Commission aims to reflect such veterans’ experiences in a report due to Congress next year, which will analyze key strategic, diplomatic, military and operational decisions made between June 2001 and the chaotic withdrawal in August 2021.

The group released its second interim report on Tuesday, drawing no conclusions yet but identifying themes emerging from thousands of pages of government documents; some 160 interviews with cabinet-level officials, military commanders, diplomats, Afghan and Pakistani leaders and others; and forums with veterans like one recently held at a national Veterans of Foreign Wars convention in Columbus, Ohio.

“What can we learn from the Afghanistan War?” asked an Aug. 12 discussion session with four of the commission’s 16 members. What they got was two straight hours of dozens of veterans’ personal stories — not one glowingly positive, and most saturated in frustration and disappointment.

“I think the best way to describe that experience was awful,” said Marine veteran Brittany Dymond, who served in Afghanistan in 2012.

Navy veteran Florence Welch said the 2021 withdrawal made her ashamed she ever served there.

“It turned us into a Vietnam, a Vietnam that none of us worked for,” she said.

Members of Congress, some driven by having served in the war, created the independent commission several months after the withdrawal, after an assessment by the Democratic administration of then-President Biden faulted the actions of President Trump’s first administration for constraining U.S. options. A Republican review, in turn, blamed Biden. Views of the events remain divided, and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth ordered yet another review this spring.

The commission wants to understand the bigger picture of a conflict that spanned four presidential administrations and cost more than 2,400 American lives, said Co-Chair Dr. Colin Jackson.

“So we’re interested in looking hard at the end of U.S. engagement in Afghanistan, but we’re equally interested in understanding the beginning, the middle and the end,” he said in an interview in Columbus.

Co-chair Shamila Chaudhary said the panel is also exploring more sweeping questions.

“So our work is not just about what the U.S. did in Afghanistan but what the U.S. should be doing in any country where it deems it has a national security interest,” she said. “And not just should it be there, but how it should behave, what values does it guide itself by, and how does it engage with individuals who are very different from themselves.”

Jackson said one of the commission’s priorities is making sure the final report, due in August 2026, isn’t “unrecognizable to any veteran of the Afghanistan conflict.”

“The nature of the report should be representative of every soldier, sailor, airman, Marine experience,” he said.

Dymond told commissioners a big problem was the mission.

“You cannot exert a democratic agenda, which is our foreign policy, you cannot do that on a culture of people who are not bought into your ideology,” she said. “What else do we expect the outcome to be? And so we had two decades of service members lost and maimed because we’re trying to change an ideology that they didn’t ask for.”

The experience left eight-year Army veteran Steve Orf demoralized. He said he didn’t go there “to beat a bad guy.”

“Those of us who served generally wanted to believe that we were helping to improve the world, and we carried with us the hopes, values, and principles of the United States — values and principles that also seem to have been casualties of this war,” he told commissioners. “For many of us, faith with our leaders is broken and trust in our country is broken.”

Tuesday’s report identifies emerging themes of the review to include strategic drift, interagency incoherence, and whether the war inside Afghanistan and the counterterrorism war beyond were pursuing the same aims or at cross purposes.

It also details difficulties the commission has encountered getting key documents. According to the report, the Biden administration initially denied the commission’s requests for White House materials on the implementation of the February 2020 peace agreement Trump signed with the Taliban, called the Doha Agreement, and on the handling of the withdrawal, citing executive confidentiality concerns.

The transition to Trump’s second term brought further delays and complications, but since the commission has pressed the urgency of its mission with the new administration, critical intelligence and documents have now begun to flow, the report says.

Smyth and Aftoora-Orsagos write for the Associated Press.

If only! On June 18, 2014, the airwaves and the internet lit up in collective awe at one of the greatest athletic feats in modern history. Clayton Kershaw recorded 15 strikeouts in a 107-pitch no-hitter that many consider the best single-game pitching performance of all time. The asterisk of this epic Dodgers game was the one error in the seventh inning that prevented its official recognition as a “perfect game”: When the Rockies’ Corey Dickerson tapped the ball toward the mound, Dodgers shortstop Hanley Ramirez botched a throw to first base, and Dickerson made it to second.

If only Ramirez had made the play at first! If only coach Don Mattingly hadn’t substituted the ailing Ramirez one inning prior! Los Angeles was one bruised right finger away from celebrating perfection.

Baseball has a celebrated history of quantifying value. No professional sport embraces numbers and statistics in the way baseball does. Statisticians are as much a part of the game as the dirt, chalk and grass. Although baseball has been collecting data since the late 1800s, the empiric statistical analysis that is part of our game today dates back to 1977 with the introduction of sabermetrics.

It’s critical to the game: How else are we to determine success when the majority of what we see is failure? The best hitters in baseball are those who only fail less than 70% of the time; in other words, have a batting average over .300. These perennial all-stars will experience the dissatisfaction and humility of an out in 7 out of every 10 plate appearances. In what other profession can you fail 70% of the time and be considered one of the greats? Consider the mental strength required to accept failure as part of the game and the focus to view each at-bat as an opportunity to fail a little bit less.

We need a similar kind of thinking in life to quantify value in our failure rates.

A “perfect game” is defined by Major League Baseball as a game in which a team pitches a victory that lasts a minimum of nine innings and in which no opposing player reaches base. It’s so rare because failure — by pitchers as well as batters — is expected as a matter of course. Francis Thomas Vincent Jr., the eighth commissioner of MLB, is quoted as saying: “Baseball teaches us, or has taught most of us, how to deal with failure. We learn at a very young age that failure is the norm in baseball and, precisely because we have failed, we hold in high regard those who fail less often — those who hit safely in one out of three chances and become star players. I also find it fascinating that baseball, alone in sport, considers errors to be part of the game, part of its rigorous truth.”

On June 19, 2014, the fans and commentators of baseball praised in dramatic fashion Kershaw’s dominant no-hitter, but with a subtle tone of confusion and denial of the ugly blemish recorded across the team’s box score: 0-0-1. Zero runs. Zero hits. One error. One base runner. An imperfect game. If only!

The collective hope for perfection is understandable. Most people are afraid to fail.

Parades aren’t held for the runner-up. Grades aren’t given just for trying. Job promotions aren’t offered for making mistakes. Placing perfection on a pedestal relieves the collective anxiety — but prohibits the opportunity — of accepting failure as an integral part of life. For an individual, failure is an opportunity to grow and become a better person. For a business, failure is an opportunity to pivot and redefine success. The opposite of perfection is not failure. It is accepting the opportunity to learn from transgressions. Winston Churchill once quipped, “The maxim, ‘Nothing prevails but perfection,’ may be spelled P-A-R-A-L-Y-S-I-S.”

Almost to the day, 75 years before Kershaw’s no-hitter, the world of sports witnessed the catastrophic reality of paralysis. In June 1939, after a week of extensive testing at the Mayo Clinic, Lou Gehrig announced to the world that he had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. This announcement happened to fall on his 36th birthday. This represented the end of Gehrig’s illustrious baseball career. But 75 years later, what is remembered about this man is not his career batting average of .340, seven-time All-Star appearances, six-time World Series championships, winning of the Triple Crown or two-time league MVP. Sabermetrics could not possibly explain Gehrig’s value to the sport. What endures is what no statistic can capture: his grace. His humility. His courage in the face of loss. What is remembered and honored is his response to the ultimate “failure”: a failure of upper and lower motor neurons to make necessary connections that ultimately leads to rapidly progressive muscle weakness and atrophy. In defiance to an illness that is uniformly fatal, Gehrig paid homage to his teammates, professional members of the MLB and its fans by proclaiming himself “the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.”

Similarly, sabermetrics misses the true greatness of Kershaw’s no-hitter. What could never be displayed in statistics or numbers was Kershaw’s response to the error. After Ramirez’s throwing error, his hat lay at the base of Kershaw’s pitching mound. As I watched from the stands, I could not hear what Kershaw said to Ramirez as he picked it up, dusted off and handed the hat back to his humiliated teammate. But his body language appeared unbelievably humble, accepting and supportive, as if to recognize the lesson of baseball, which is that errors are a celebrated part of the game. To dwell on errors and think “if only” leads to disappointment and blame, but to accept and embrace imperfections with a positive and optimistic attitude defines the ultimate success.

If only we could all be that perfect.

Josh Diamond is a physician in private practice in Los Angeles and a lifelong Dodgers fan. Some of his earliest memories are of attending games with his father; he now shares his love of the Dodgers with his son.

In the aftermath of Democrats’ widespread electoral failures last year, party activists in California who gathered for their annual convention this weekend struggled with balancing how to stick to their values while also reconnecting with voters who were traditionally part of their base — notably working-class Americans.

California’s progressive policies and its Democratic leaders were routinely battered by Republicans during the 2024 election, with then-vice president and Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris taking the brunt of it. Harris ultimately lost the election to Trump, partly because of shrinking support among traditional Democratic constituencies, including minorities and working-class voters.

“We got to be honest in what happened, because losing elections has consequences,” said Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, Harris’ running mate, during a rousing speech Saturday afternoon. “We’re in this mess because some of it’s our own doing. … None of us can afford to shy away from having hard conversations about what it’s going to take to win elections.”

Walz, a potential 2028 presidential candidate, said Democrats don’t need to retreat from their ideals, such as protecting the most vulnerable in society, including transgender children. But they need to show voters that they are capable of bold policy that will improve voters’ lives rather than delivering incremental progress, he said.

“The Democratic Party, the party of the working class, lost a big chunk of the working class,” he said. “That last election was a primal scream on so many fronts: do something, do something, stand up and make a difference.”

California is home to the most Democrats in the nation as well as a large number of the party’s most deep-pocketed donors, making the state a popular spot for presidential hopefuls from across the country.

In addition to Walz, another potential 2028 White House candidate who addressed the 4,000 delegates and guests at the Anaheim Convention Center was New Jersey Sen. Cory Booker. Booker argued that Democrats must remember the courage of their ancestors who fought for civil and voting rights and created the social safety net for the most vulnerable Americans as they try to fight Trumpism.

“Real change does not come from Washington. It comes from communities. It comes from the streets,” he said in a Saturday morning speech. “The power of the people is greater than the people in power.”

Harris, who is weighing a 2026 gubernatorial run and is also viewed as a potential 2028 presidential candidate, addressed the convention by video. Gov. Gavin Newsom, also viewed as a possible White House contender, did not appear at the convention.

Delegate Jane Baulch-Enloe, a middle school teacher from Pleasant Hill in the Bay Area, said she wasn’t sure that California’s particular brand of liberalism will sell on the national stage.

“I don’t know if a California Democrat can win a presidential election,” she said as she and her daughter sorted through swag and campaign fliers in the convention cafe. “California is thought of as the crazy people. … I don’t mean that in a bad way — though I know some people do — but we do things differently here.”

She said she learned from President Obama’s memoir, “Audacity of Hope,” that most, if not all, Americans “want the same things,” but talk about them differently and have different approaches for getting there. California Democrats, Baulch-Enloe said, “need to get people on our side and help them understand that we aren’t just wacko liberals, and teach people that it’s okay to want things” like healthcare for all and high union wages.

But the 2028 presidential race was not the focus of this year’s California Democratic Party convention. Delegates were more concerned about last year’s presidential and congressional losses — though California was a rare bright spot for the party, flipping three districts held by the GOP — and preparing for next year’s midterm elections. Delegates hope Democrats will take control of Congress to stop Trump from enacting his agenda.

Aref Aziz, a leader of the party’s Asian American Pacific Islander caucus, said the party needed to sharpen its messaging on economic issues if they want to have a chance of victory in coming elections.

“When it comes to the affordability issue, when it comes to economics, those are the things that across the broad spectrum of our coalition, all those things matter to everybody,” Aziz said. “And what really is, what really is important is for us to focus on that economic message and how we’re going to improve the quality of life for everyone in these midterm elections and future presidential elections.”

He noted he was in France on his honeymoon recently, and was strolling through a grocery store and buying half a dozen eggs for 1.50 euros (the equivalent of $1.70) when the news broke that California’s economy had grown to the fourth largest in the world.

“When you look at a lot of our economies, California and New York, by all accounts, GDP, the numbers that you look at, they’re doing great,” he said. “But when it comes to the cost that consumers are paying in these places, they’re so high and so far above other countries that we end up diminishing whatever value there is in our GDP, because everything’s so expensive.”

Some Democrats questioned the impact of the weaponization of California’s liberal policies, including defending transgender rights, on voters in battleground states in 2024.

But delegates and party leaders largely argued that the state needs to continue to be on the vanguard of such matters.

“People like to point a finger somewhere, and I think California is an easy target, but I disagree,” said delegate Melissa Taylor, president of our local Foothill Community Democrats. “Because I think that California is standing up for values that the Democratic Party believes in, like we believe in labor, we believe in healthcare, we believe in women’s rights, we believe in rights for LGBTQ people.”

Jodi Hicks, the president of Planned Parenthood Affiliates of California, said issues such as reproductive healthcare access also have an economic impact.

“We have to walk and chew gum at the same time,” she said, adding that the party’s 2024 losses were likely prompted by multiple factors, including Harris’ being the Democratic nominee for a little over three months after then-President Biden decided not to seek reelection.

“We’re going to be analyzing 2024 for a very long time,” Hicks said. “It was such unique circumstances.”

Times staff writer Laura J. Nelson contributed to this report.

Power is the ability to get others to do what you want. That can be accomplished by coercion (“sticks”), payment (“carrots”) or attraction (“honey”). The first two methods are forms of hard power; attraction is soft power. Soft power grows out of a country’s culture, its political values and its foreign policies. In the short term, hard power usually trumps soft power. But over the long term, soft power often prevails. Joseph Stalin once mockingly asked, “How many divisions does the pope have?” But the papacy continues today, while Stalin’s Soviet Union is long gone.

When a nation is attractive, it can economize on carrots and sticks. If allies see the United States as benign and trustworthy, they are more likely to be open to persuasion and to following our lead. If they see us as an unreliable bully, they are more likely to drag their feet and reduce their interdependence when they can. Cold War Europe is a good example. A Norwegian historian described Europe as divided into a Soviet and an American empire. But there was a crucial difference: The American side was “an empire by invitation” rather than coercion. The Soviets had to deploy troops to Budapest in 1956, and to Prague in 1968. In contrast, NATO has voluntarily increased its membership.

Nations need both hard and soft power. Machiavelli said it was better for a prince to be feared than to be loved. But it is best to be both.

Because soft power is rarely sufficient by itself, and because its effects take longer to realize, political leaders are often tempted to resort to the hard power of coercion or payment. When wielded alone, however, hard power is an unnecessarily high-cost proposition. The Berlin Wall did not succumb to an artillery barrage; it was felled by hammers and bulldozers wielded by people who had lost faith in communism and were drawn to Western values.

After World War II, the United States was by far the most powerful country because of its hard and soft power. It attempted to enshrine its values in what became known as the liberal international order — a soft power framework made up of the United Nations, economic and trade institutions, and other multilateral bodies. Of course, the U.S. did not always live up to its liberal values, and Cold War bipolarity limited the order it led to only half the world’s people.

Donald Trump is the first American president to reject the idea that soft power has any value in foreign policy. Among his first actions upon returning to office were withdrawing from the Paris climate agreement and the World Health Organization, despite the obvious threats that global warming and pandemics pose.

The effects of the Trump administration’s surrendering soft power are all too predictable. Trying to coerce democratic allies such as Denmark or Canada weakens trust in the U.S. among all our alliances. Threatening Panama reawakens fears of imperialism throughout Latin America. Crippling the U.S. Agency for International Development — created by President Kennedy in 1961 — undercuts our reputation for benevolence. Silencing Voice of America is a gift to authoritarian rivals. Slapping tariffs on friends makes us appear unreliable. Trying to chill free speech at home undermines our credibility. This list could go on.

China, which Trump defines as America’s great challenge, itself has been investing in soft power since 2007, when then-Chinese President Hu Jintao told the Chinese Communist Party that the country needed to make itself more attractive to others. But China has long faced two major obstacles in this respect. First, it maintains territorial disputes with multiple neighbors. Second, the communists insist on maintaining tight control over civil society. When public opinion polls ask people around the world which countries they find attractive, China doesn’t shine. But one can only wonder what these surveys will show in future years if Trump keeps undercutting American soft power.

Of course American soft power has had its ups and downs. The U.S. was unpopular in many countries during the Vietnam and Iraq wars. But soft power derives from a country’s society and culture as well as from government actions. When crowds marched through streets around the world in freedom protests, they sang the American civil rights anthem “We Shall Overcome.” An open society that allows protest can be a soft-power asset.

But will America’s cultural soft power survive a downturn in the government’s soft power over the next four years?

American democracy is likely to survive the next four years of Trump. The country has a resilient political culture and the Constitution encourages checks and balances, whatever their weaknesses. In 2026, there is a reasonable chance that Democrats will regain control of the House of Representatives. Moreover, American civil society remains strong, and the courts independent. Many organizations have launched lawsuits to challenge Trump’s actions, and markets have signaled dissatisfaction with his economic policies.

American soft power recovered after low points during the Vietnam and Iraq wars, as well as during Trump’s first term. But once trust is lost, it is not easily restored. After the invasion of Ukraine, Russia lost most of what soft power it had. Right now, China is striving to fill any soft power gaps that Trump creates. The way Chinese President Xi Jinping tells it, the East is rising over the West.

If Trump thinks he can compete with China while weakening trust among American allies, asserting imperial aspirations, destroying USAID, silencing Voice of America, challenging laws at home and withdrawing from U.N. agencies, he is likely to fail. Restoring what he has destroyed will not be impossible, but it will be costly.

Joseph S. Nye Jr. was dean of the Harvard Kennedy School and a U.S. assistant secretary of Defense. His memoir “A Life in the American Century” was published last year. Nye died earlier this month.