Stephen Richer and I have recorded a Q&A, here. At the beginning, I say something like this: “I don’t mean to insult you right off the bat, but are you a little too famous, nationally, for a county recorder?” Yes, he says. Then he adapts a line from Casablanca: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world . . .”
In short: Election denialism exploded in Maricopa County, Ariz. It exploded elsewhere too — Capitol Hill, obviously; Georgia — but it has been very ugly in Maricopa County. This is an immense county, the fourth-largest in America. Its seat is Phoenix. Richer, as the recorder, is an important elections official. He ran for the office in 2020. He did not bargain for what he got. But he has stood strong, one of those “guardrails” — human guardrails — who protect our democracy.
Like many Arizonans, Richer grew up elsewhere. He was born and raised in Sandy, Utah. His father is from Queens, his mother from New Orleans. (An all-American family.) They met at Tulane, when they were 18 and 17. Stephen went there too. Then he went to the University of Chicago, for a master’s in political science, followed by a J.D.
He was attracted to Chicago Law School because of its reputation as a place for center-right thinkers. He is a Republican out of Central Casting, in the pre-Trump era. The ISI honors program. NRI’s “Burke to Buckley.” The Federalist Society. AEI. On and on. In 2008, he volunteered on Rudy Giuliani’s presidential campaign.
This is notable, in light of Giuliani’s later career as an election-denier and a whipper-up of violence.
In 2020, Richer ran against the incumbent Democrat, Adrian Fontes. They were not exactly friends that year. Two years later, Fontes ran for secretary of state — and Richer voted for him in the general election. (Fontes was running against a far-out MAGA Republican.)
This is an illustration of how quickly America’s political ground shifted. Richer’s entire story, in fact, is a story of Republicanism and conservatism in our time.
After the 2020 presidential election, Giuliani, Alex Jones, and others came to town, peddling conspiracy theories and riling up the folks. Richer was sworn in as recorder on January 4. Two days later, he had to send his staff home, because people outside their facility were threatening violence.
His second week on the job, Richer had to have a police escort. He needed protection not from BLM or Antifa — but from Republicans. People who regard themselves as “conservative.” This struck Richer as “surreal,” and it still does.
Aren’t we supposed to stand for law and order?
In May 2021, Donald Trump, the former president and the leader of the Republican Party, accused Richer of deleting files. Trump totally made this up, of course. A lie, one of his firehose of lies. A man from Missouri called Richer, threatening to kill him. Sometime later, the FBI arrested the man.
So far, four people have been arrested for threatening Richer. He soldiers on, however — to me, an act of patriotic courage.
I have a question for Richer, one I have asked many: Are people who lie about elections true-believers? Or are they “jes’ playin’” (as I say) — goin’ with the flow, in accordance with their tribalist “duty”? There are some in each category, says Richer. He knows people in each (and so do many of us).
Years ago, I asked Thomas Sowell whether people sometimes whispered to him that they liked what he was doing — while never saying so publicly. Oh, yes, he said. “I call this ‘private support.’ As in, ‘I’m right behind you, Tom — way behind you.’”
In our Q&A, I ask Stephen Richer the same: Does he have “private support”? Oh, yes. A high-ranking GOP-er told him, “You have a silent cheering section within the Republican Party. We’re grateful you’re fighting the good fight.” But the high-ranker would never talk that way publicly. Why?
Cowardice, all around us. And a single-minded focus on reelection. Nothing must jeopardize reelection. That’s why Liz Cheney, Adam Kinzinger, and Mitt Romney are so rare — and so reviled.
In 2022, Kari Lake ran for governor of Arizona. She lost to the Democrat. Lake accused Richer of rigging the election for the Democrat. She poured forth one fantastical lie after another. Really wild, cuckoo stuff. Richer decided not to take it lying down. He sued her for defamation. She has capitulated. What the damages will be is yet to be determined.
This Lake is running again — for the U.S. Senate. She is the Republican nominee (of course).
I ask Richer whether he and his family take precautions. They certainly do. “We do whatever the county sheriff’s office tells us to do.” That may include round-the-clock protection at their house. Violence is a fact of life in today’s politics, and a bitter fact.
If Richer wanted nothing more to do with politics, I wouldn’t blame him. He says that he entered politics brimming with ideas: conservative ideas, about how to make life better. He still has those ideas. But the competition today, he says, is between a basic respect for our democracy and the opposite. He offers himself as “somebody who will say that two plus two is four, even if my party doesn’t want it to be four.”
Without the likes of Stephen Richer, our democracy would collapse. I admire him no end. I hope that he flourishes, in Republican politics or wherever he chooses to be. To listen to him is downright inspiring. Again, for our Q&A, go here.