COLUMN California's #2 Job Is Too Dangerous For Me

This column was published by Zócalo Public Square. (Photo credit) Former Stockton Mayor Michael Tubbs, left, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons (CC BY 2.0); former Navato Mayor Josh Fryday, middle, courtesy of California Governor's Council for Career Education; and current state treasurer Fiona Ma, courtesy of: State of California - Office of State Treasurer

My fellow Californians, I am no longer your best choice for lieutenant governor.

If I were drafted into the race at this late stage, I would not run. If, through some strange series of events, I were elected, I would not serve.

The job has simply become too important. And, thus, too frightening.

In this perilous post-republic period of political prosecutions and violence, the chances are simply too high that the lieutenant governor Californians elect this year will soon become governor. And that’s a job no sane person should want.

Let me explain how I lost interest in the lieutenant governorship, the only elected office I have ever coveted.

I first raised my hand for this not-so-distinguished post back in 2009, in the pages of the Los Angeles Times. Then-Lt. Gov. John Garamendi had just resigned to take the seat in Congress he has held ever since, and Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger had to appoint a replacement. Back then I had just left the L.A. Times for a think tank and was reflecting on future opportunities.

I looked into the duties of the lieutenant governor and found that there were only three core requirements:

First, wake up each morning (or in the early afternoon, if I’d partied too hard the night before).

Second, check to be sure the governor is still alive.

Third, go on with my day.

I’d already been doing those things as a journalist covering Schwarzenegger. So, there’d be no need for on-the-job training. The lieutenant governor didn’t run much of anything, and neither did I. It was kismet.

I could handle the light work associated with the office. There are almost never tied votes in the California state senate, but I could show up and break them in whatever way the governor requested. Serving on governing boards like the UC Board of Regents or the State Lands Commission, as lieutenant governors do, would be no problem, since, as a think tank fellow, it’d be useful for me to attend those meetings anyway.

But it was my lack of political ambition, my total absence of desire to serve the public, that made me the best choice. No need to waste a proven leader in a nothing job like lieutenant governor. Indeed, someone with real experience in government would just get frustrated by the limitations of the role, as Gavin Newsom admitted he was when he served from 2011 to 2018.

The Great Gavini (his nickname as a child-magician) really should have disappeared from the gig and let Gov. Jerry Brown appoint me, since I’d never served in government and had no interest in doing so. Any governor would have loved having me, since some lieutenant governors do things that frustrate governors, like taking official actions when the governor is out of state and the lieutenant is governor-in-charge. I never would have pulled a Mike Curb. I also wouldn’t have besmirched my office by raising money for future campaigns—as lieutenant governors always do.

I just wanted to use the lieutenant governorship as a no-show job to support my writing. Since journalism doesn’t pay that much anymore, whereas the 2025 salary for lieutenant governor was $184,447!

Alas, Schwarzenegger gave the job to a now-forgotten politician named Abel Maldonado, who is perhaps best remembered for advancing the top-two election system that plagues California. I expressed my interest again during Brown’s governorship, but never got an interview. In the course of reporting, I did once ask Newsom to consider me as lieutenant governor, but he seemed to think I was joking.

Newsom was wrong about that.

The lieutenant governor’s job was a joke. But my interest in it was serious.

Now, tragically, the job isn’t a joke. Donald Trump, our president-dictator, has repeatedly threatened Gov. Newsom with arrest and removal from office. Our next governor is likely to be even more in danger. Trump is ramping up his use of the Justice Department to target political opponents. And both right and left are normalizing violence against politicians.

Only two California governors have died in office and forced the lieutenant governor to step in. The last time it happened was in 1934, when Frank Merriam took over after James Rolph’s heart failure. Five other governors have left office, all for political reasons—in four cases to take other jobs, most recently in 1953 when Gov. Earl Warren became chief justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, handing the governorship to Goodwin Knight.

The odds of a forced resignation or worse are much higher now. No one with a sense of self-preservation would want to be governor right now. Which is why I can’t stand for lieutenant governor anymore.

The good news is that Californians do have choices who are more appropriate for the job. There are 16 candidates on the ballot, 11 of whom are unknowns, from a nurse named Ebie Lynch to a doctor named Alice Stek.

Five candidates have significant governing experience. Among these are current state treasurer Fiona Ma, former Sausalito city councilmember Janelle Kellman, and Democrat-turned-Republican Gloria Romero, a former majority leader in the state senate.

Two candidates whom I’ve seen in action might be better governors than anyone running for the governorship. Josh Fryday, a former Novato mayor, has been a creative, nationally respected head of Newsom’s service and community engagement office. Former Stockton Mayor Michael Tubbs, who wrote a brilliant memoir and founded a major anti-poverty group, has more powerful allies than just about anyone in California politics.

These five experienced candidates all seem too eager to jump into the fray, and are talking about their readiness to serve as governor.

Better them than me.