From the WSJ Opinion Archives
CAMPAIGN 2002
The Graying of California
Like politics but hate ideas? You'll love the Golden State.
The victory of Bill Simon--a political neophyte with few roots in California politics--over former Los Angeles mayor Richard Riordan for the Republican nomination for governor on Tuesday virtually assures the Golden State four more years of the stolid persona of 59-year-old Gov. Gray Davis. California may remain the nation's most dynamic economic, cultural and technological center, but its politics are devolving into a idealess quagmire at an alarming rate.
Call it the Graying of California. Over the past several decades, idea-driven politics have given way to a de facto one-party state--much like the old PRI-dominated Mexico, or American flyspecks like Rhode Island and Hawaii. California Democrats hold all but one statewide office and enjoy lopsided majorities in both legislative houses. All the primary power groups, from big business and labor to various "issue" lobbies, what might be called "pay to play" Democrats, are on the team.
Much of the blame lies with the state's once-formidable GOP. Former governor Pete Wilson's indulgence in nativism, which alienated the growing ranks of immigrant voters, clearly accelerated the decline. But longtime GOP strategist Arnold Steinberg suggests the party has also suffered by moving away from the kind of ideological focus that characterized the Reagan years.
It's not as if conservatives lack popular issues, Mr. Steinberg suggests. Grassroots Republicans led successful campaigns against both racial quotas and bilingual education in the late 1990s, but the state's Republican establishment often recoiled from using such "wedge issues" and sought to nominate mild "moderate" candidates. These "saviors"--such as Senate nominees Matt Fong and Tom Campbell--went on to electoral humiliation.
Defeated gubernatorial hopeful Richard Riordan was the last and arguably most attractive of these "moderate" Republicans. But the 71-year-old Mr. Riordan's campaign failed to distinguish him ideologically from Mr. Davis among largely conservative Republican voters. This gaffe allowed the coup de grace to be delivered by a brilliant Davis-funded $10 million media campaign that portrayed the former L.A. mayor as unprincipled and unreliable.
The cynicism and banality of these developments reflect the drastic political devolution of California, which, for much of the late 20th century, framed the political paradigms of the entire nation. In the late 1950s and early 1960s arguably the state's most effective governor, the late Pat Brown, set the model for the second act of New Deal democracy. His legacy helped propel California's emergence as the epicenter of the information age and inspired similar policies in states from Ohio and North Carolina to Texas.
Eventually Brown's massive expansion of government led to a reaction and the emergence of Ronald Reagan. The Reaganite war on the state bureaucracy's almost insatiable appetite for taxpayer funds transformed California politics and, over time, morphed into a political movement that dominated American politics for a generation.
Even as Mr. Reagan rose to the presidency, California's last great creative politician, former governor (and son of Pat Brown) Jerry Brown, started to craft a version of Democratic politics--oriented toward trade, technology and the environment--that would later lay the ideological basis for the "New Democrats." Mr. Brown's quirky personality later led him to diverge from his innovative ideology, but the ideology caught on with Gary Hart and, ultimately, played some part in the cynical composite that was Bill Clinton.
In contrast, Gray Davis never liked California's politics of ideas. As Jerry Brown's chief of staff, Mr. Davis chafed under the often abusive and erratic direction of his mentor. Mr. Davis, as one observer suggested, served as "Jerry's vicar on earth." Mr. Brown spoke about energy conservation, digital technology and mankind's future in space; Gray Davis worried about prosaic items like raising money, cutting deals with the Legislature and shaping the administration's media image.
Unconcerned with ideology, Mr. Davis instead found his supreme calling in the mechanical aspects of politics. His particular talent was in fund raising, an activity most politicians regard as inherently demeaning, but which Mr. Davis clearly revels in. "He really enjoys fund raising," recalls one former top aide. "He doesn't really have much interest in policy issues on most days. He eats, drinks, breathes political fund raising."
A large political war chest has been critical to Mr. Davis, who himself is of modest means, in defeating wealthier opponents on his methodical rise to the governor's office. But when it actually comes to being governor, Mr. Davis's ecumenical approach can have its downsides. Heavily bankrolled by both utilities and energy providers--including some $100,000 from Enron--and worried about possible consumer reaction to rate hikes, Mr. Davis dawdled in addressing last year's electricity crisis, hesitation that likely will cost Californians billions in unnecessary bills in the coming years.
Mr. Davis may in fact be among the most detested political figures--particularly within his own party--in recent memory. But with a long memory and a reputation for payback, few dare challenge him in public. Even historically Republican business leaders and lobbyists are loath to donate funds to challenger candidates or to speak out too loudly against his policies. "I have permits I need to get through the state," said one prominent developer close to Mr. Riordan. "I can't be seen as opposing Gray."
Mr. Davis's well-cultivated links to the state's business establishment also testify to his political acumen. To the delight of corporate donors, Mr. Davis has thwarted left-wing Democrats who would have liked to use the 1990s boom to expand welfare and other spending programs even more dramatically. And, critically, the governor has appeared as tough on crime and pro-death penalty as any governor in recent history.
As a result, even veteran Republican operatives doubt Mr. Simon will gain much corporate backing in his run. "Crime, welfare, taxes--there's nothing for the Republicans to run on," notes Mr. Davis's old boss, Jerry Brown, who is finding a second political life as a successful mayor of Oakland. "What's the difference between Gray and a traditional conservative Republican?"
What of Bill Simon, the sudden new golden boy of the political right? The former New York prosecutor may see himself as a latter-day Ronald Reagan, but he clearly lacks the communication skills of the former president as well as his deep roots in California issues and ideas. Mr. Reagan was a quintessential Californian, a self-made man shaped by the issues of his times and fervently backed by many of the state's most powerful business interests. Mr. Simon is a rich man's son from New Jersey who has lived in the state for barely a decade.
Without any natural base in the state, except the oft-frustrated social conservatives, Mr. Simon will be easily painted in the coming flurry of Davis ads as a terrifying combination of Savonarola and Newt Gingrich. Mr. Simon's fervent opposition to gun control and abortion--over 70% of California voters are pro-choice--will make him easy pickings for Mr. Davis's highly skilled media operatives.
Once he has dispatched the inexperienced Mr. Simon, Mr. Davis's likely next step will be to extend his political dampening field to the rest of the country. With control of California, the world's fifth largest economy, the governor will soon be out raising yet more cash as he heads towards his ultimate goal--the Graying of America.
Mr. Kotkin is author of "The New Geography: How the Digital Revolution Is Reshaping the American Landscape" (Random House:2001). He is a senior fellow with the Davenport Institute for Public Policy at Pepperdine University.
