Despite its impressive image, California loves no-nonsense governors
California is about to head into the 2026 race for governor, and if you could pick any of the current candidates on the police list, you either work in Sacramento, have an unhealthy obsession with state politics, or both.
That is not a criminal criticism of any of those running to succeed the term-limited Gavin Newsom. (Not that the rap sheet is dangerous these days. Just look at our president-elect.)
Rather, those seeking to become California's 41st governor are not a collection of famous names. If they form a group of supporters, they can call it Candidates Anonymous.
For the record, those officially running are Toni Atkins, former speaker of the Assembly and president of the Senate; Stephen Cloobeck, Southern California anthropologist and entrepreneur; Eleni Kounalakis, lieutenant governor of the state; Tony Thurmond, California superintendent of public instruction; Antonio Villaraigosa, former mayor of Los Angeles; and Betty Yee, former state administrator.
There is talk that others may enter the competition. He said. Gen Rob Bonta is often mentioned. Former Orange County Rep. Katie Porter admitted she's looking forward to the race. Vice President Kamala Harris, the front-runner among the possibilities, has done nothing publicly to confirm or dispel speculation that she might step down after leaving office later this month.
But even Harris and Porter, as they're known, don't have anywhere near the candle power of the two most famous and bold-faced names elected to be governor of California, Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Or prevent it from a distance.
In fact, contrary to California's glossy image, Reagan and Schwarzenegger are the odd men out in a long line of drab, mostly ho-hum candidates elected to the nation's highest office. Think George Deukmejian, Pete Wilson and Gray Davis, whose public personas might be best interpreted in broad hues of beige, taupe and, yes, gray.
Even Jerry Brown seemed disturbed during his return to the gubernatorial engagement, 36 years after taking his first oath. (There were no trips to Africa with Linda Ronstadt or quixotic tilts at the White House in his second term.)
“There's a perception that Californians are somehow attracted to movie stars and TV stars, and to some extent that's true,” said Garry South, a Democratic strategist who twice helped elect Davis governor. “But I don't think that view accurately reflects how California voters feel about politicians.”
The state's voters, it turns out, are more rational than the autograph-hounding, Hollywood-worshipping stereotype might suggest.
Gale Kaufman, another Democratic strategist, remains among the most focused groups. He said that whenever voters present the name of a celebrity — guessing this or that celebrity running for governor is a staple of California campaigns — “they just take it and put it in the next stage and say, 'Well, what were they going to say? do as ruler?'”
Which suggests voters aren't nearly as enthralled by all that glitz and glitz as political pundits would like to think.
Schwarzenegger, it must be said, was elected in 2003 under unusual circumstances, a much reduced campaign that lasted a little more than eight weeks. The passing time gave the super-duperstar of the movie a unique opportunity to increase his fame and name recognition instead of Davis – who was recalled by the voters on the same day – in one fell swoop.
It is also worth noting that Schwarzenegger was no political novice.
His association with the Kennedy family, through his marriage to Maria Shriver, his position as chairman of the Council on Physical Education and Sports under President George HW Bush and, most notably, his sponsorship in the year preceding a successful nationwide ballot initiative to promote after-school programs for youth. Schwarzenegger's patina of political experience helped secure his election.
Reagan, who was washed up as an actor while running for governor, had a longer and more accomplished political career than Schwarzenegger when he began his 1966 campaign. Even then, Reagan was greatly helped by the stable climate caused by the Watts riots, institutional unrest and voter fatigue that engulfed the incumbent, Jerry Brown's father, Edmund G. “Pat” Brown.
The sense of the campaign is especially important in California, a large, unregulated state with more than 22 million registered voters, despite the success of the two actors-turned-politicians. Except for Schwarzenegger, every Reagan successor had successfully run for office at least once before being elected governor.
“It's easy for outsiders to think we're obsessed with celebrities because of what they see in Hollywood and movies and TV,” said Mark Baldassare, who has spent decades polling voters and now directs polls for the Public Policy Institute of. California. “But the reality is that it's a big country to govern, and it's hard to win an election unless you've been there before.”
No one, among all your friendly political writers, has any idea what will happen in 2026.
It wouldn't be surprising if California voters chose someone without the Hollywood looks, the glitz or the flamboyant national ambitions of the current governor — just as the leading Deukmejian followed the fiery Brown, and the buttoned-up Brown followed the megawatt Schwarzenegger. .
None of the currently active candidates will set the tabloids on fire or break any box office records.
That might be one of the best things they've done for themselves.
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