Worse Than the Devil You Know

C onservatives assume that executive governance in California can’t get worse than Gavin Newsom. Democratic voters may prove them wrong. As they head to the polls for the state’s gubernatorial primary today, they have the chance to elevate a true believer in the church of progressivism, which Newsom never was.

You might remember Tom Steyer from his quixotic presidential bid in 2020. A successful hedge fund manager turned self-funded candidate, Steyer spent over $1,300 per vote he received in the Democratic primaries. Though he inundated the airwaves with progressive appeals, there were more appealing progressives in the race. Down but unfortunately not out, Steyer is now dropping another $200 million to become the next governor of California.

He might just do it. Steyer had little chance until the now-disgraced Eric Swalwell cratered out of the field. California has a “jungle primary” system, meaning the two candidates from either party who receive the most votes advance to the general election. The polls have Steyer in a close third, narrowly trailing Republican candidate Steve Hilton. If Steyer surpasses Hilton, he will then likely face another Democrat, Xavier Becerra, the former secretary of health and human services under President Biden.

They are all vying to succeed Newsom, the champion of liberal causes who is desperately posturing to lead the anti-Trump resistance. Every candidate would be wise to run against Newsom’s record. During his tenure, the cost of living in California has grown exorbitant. Adjusted for prices, the state has the highest poverty rate in the nation. Homelessness has soared, erasing a decade-long decline. School scores were devastated by pandemic-era school closures. California is bleeding residents and income and is forecast to lose four congressional seats in 2030. To summarize, progressive governance under Newsom has been a disaster.

Believe it or not, however, Newsom is a moderating force in California politics. The true radicalism emanates from the state’s legislature and activist class. Newsom has mostly gone along with them — but is keen to push back against both when he believes they’ve gone too far, or he sees an opportunity to flash an independent streak, keeping in mind his national profile and higher ambitions. In doing so, he has kept California’s governance saner than it otherwise would be.

Newsom vetoed a bill in 2022 that would have allowed cities to establish drug consumption sites, and another bill in 2023 to extend state unemployment payments to striking workers. He shielded businesses from a list of union demands approved by Democratic lawmakers. Newsom rejected multiple public-housing schemes over budget concerns and killed a sweeping effort to regulate artificial intelligence. Even on hot-button social issues, Newsom vetoed a bill that would have required family courts to consider whether parents affirmed a child’s “gender identity” when making custody decisions. Last year, he turned away a slate of measures to advance racial reparations.

Even in cases where his signature wasn’t required, Newsom has expended real political capital to defeat left-wing ballot initiatives. He actively campaigned against a tax hike to fund electric-vehicle subsidies in 2022 and opposed an effort to expand rent control in 2024. Voters took Newsom’s side in both cases. This election cycle, he is railing against a wealth tax on billionaires to prevent further high-income flight out of California.

None of this is to say that Newsom is a moderate. He isn’t. But he is a man of independent judgment — serving as a kind of watchman over his state party’s hard left, recognizing when they go too crazy. Tom Steyer, by contrast, has never met a progressive shibboleth that he didn’t embrace. If elected, he would be the California Democrats’ committed partner, not their cautious parent.

Steyer makes for an odd left-wing populist, being a deeply uncharismatic billionaire and all. Yet he seems to genuinely believe that “the people” — or the subset he defines as morally good, anyway — cannot err in their policy demands. His masochistic shtick is to punish the wealthy and corporations for their nefarious productivity. This corrupt elite, to which Steyer fancies himself a noble “class traitor,” is at the root of all Californians’ woes. If only the progressive grassroots could get their way, everything would be wonderful.

This cartoonish conception of politics has led Steyer to adopt whatever progressive cause is momentarily fashionable. He wants to tax the rich harder than everyone else. He demands government-funded health care and college education for everyone. He wants to crush electric utilities and oil companies into the ground until they agree to cut prices. He’ll fight to “put ICE in jail” by prosecuting them like “the mob.”

Becerra, the front-runner for governor, would be a great deal like Newsom: a liberal technocrat who at least has some moderate muscle memory. He would not make anything in California better, but might not make things much worse. Steyer would be a true believer — an energetic vessel for every harebrained idea that pops into Democratic activists’ heads. More frightening than any specific policy position is his worldview: There is no limiting principle to Steyer’s disgruntled populism. Anything can be justified so long as the “right people” are behind it and the “wrong people” are against it.

Governor Newsom is plenty awful, and his successor, whoever it is, will be too. But if you think California politics can’t get any more deranged, give Tom Steyer a chance to prove you wrong.