Category Archives: blog

Emil Guillermo on the California primary vote: Does anyone have time for democracy anymore? Plus: The GOP’s Twin Towers of Estrogen

We just had an election in California, and once again, in my humble polling place, we had more poll workers than voters.

If Justin Bieber were there, then we’d have a crowd. And then the state’s future  would be dictated by the tastes of 12-year olds—which might be an improvement.  They know what it’s like to live on an allowance.

Still, just 23.4 percent voted in San Francisco.  Los Angeles County was lower yet at 19.6. Maybe if we could jump up those numbers by allowing voting while texting AND driving the state’s numbers would go up. Voting by IPhone? There’s got to be an app for that.

Who voted the most? Little Sierra County, northeast of Sacramento, population around 4,000, had a turnout of 73.3 percent! (I’m  checking if a few goats weren’t allowed to cast ballots to pad those numbers).

I imagine there’s not much to do in Sierra County but wait for an election to have an excuse to get out of the house.  Does that mean those of us in slightly less rural areas have too much to do to value democracy?

We show up when it counts, of course. Like for a general election when the presidency is at stake. But all politics is local, remember. This is the stuff that hits home. And not many showed up.

 MONEY, MONEY, MONEY

The big lesson in California is that money is still everything in politics—if you have more than $30 million. That’s roughly what Steve Poizner spent on his campaign and he didn’t win one county.  So let’s  revise the adage. You need almost $100 million to be victorious like Meg Whitman, the GOP’s first female standard bearer to run for governor of the state. She along with Carly Fiorina, who won the GOPs senate race, are the party’s new public face: The twin towers of estrogen.  You can talk about diversity if you’d like, but Democrats have had women, gays, lesbians, Asians, Latinos, blacks for years. Why praise the GOP for something it should have embraced a long time ago?

But here’s why you should be suspicious: Anytime you hear someone say they want to run “California like a business,”  run away. Fast.

That’s not what we need in this state.  Arnold’s already tried and look what he’s done.

After Tuesday, the state finds itself with two failed CEOs who have used their parachute money to enter politics (remember, they’d still be CEOs if they were really successful).They now want to do something useful with their lives besides make money.  They think because they ran a business, they can run a government.

As Arnold found out, it’s trickier than it looks, mostly because government isn’t about dollars and sense nor bottom lines and profits. It’s still about people and services that make up a community.

A CEO of a major corporation, whose trick  to raise revenue  include off-shoring, laying off older workers, and generally trimming human beings to show profit, just doesn’t have the skill set for the kind of government that fosters community.  But whose to stop the vanity of Whitman and Fiorina who have the money to put their business  skills to the test.  You want to be the guinea pig?  

Tell me how smart it is to spend nearly $100 million for a 4-year job?  Where’s the fiscal responsibility in that?

PUBLIC FINANCING and MCLEOD

The only way to get good people to run is to eliminate money as a factor. And unfortunately, Prop.15, which called for a public funding experiment failed.

 Money is the reason why American Filipino Rod McLeod’s run for Superior Court judge in San Francisco was notable.  Spending less than $2,000, he was trying to buck the trend in an office that should be above money. His opponents , however, spent about $100,000 each.

McLeod took the high road and finished third.

It counts. But what does it mean with just a 23% turnout?

Emil Guillermo on the passing of a newspaper: Aloha Honolulu Advertiser

The major morning daily in the state of Hawaii died this morning after 154 years.

In 2005, I left the mainland to join the Honloulu Advertiser for a brief fling.

I didn’t realize that just as I was realizing my dream of being an “ink stained wretch” that newspapers were nosediving faster than my retro-career was ascending.

When I got there, the Advertiser boasted about hitting revenue records. After a year, cost cutting measures were already in place.  Trust me, the “Tiser didn’t go broke transporting my little Toyota from the Mainland. The spending cuts should have been the tip-off.

But newspaper people, despite all the negatives you see  in the news, are really professional optimists.

No need for a correction now, the paper was sold for half of what the old owners bought it for. And some of my old colleagues are scratching their heads trying to figure out where they fit in the new one paper town. The Star-Bulletin, the small paper, ate the big paper, the ‘Tiser. The new paper may have indigestion. I hope it survives.

I’ll also miss the Advertiser because it was the first paper to which I gladly silenced my voice, my byline, my perspective, to write under the masthead, which at that time sported hibiscus.

I”ve learned my lesson.

Little known fact. I used the flower in an editorial once as in “stopped to smell the hibiscus.” I thought it clever until my dutiful then-editor, the great Hawaii political analyst Jerry Burris told me “Hibiscus don’t smell. Plumeria do.”  Hence, I stopped to smell the plumeria.

I would have liked to have smelled it a bit longer there. But I returned to California in 2007, happy for the experience of seeing the dark side of paradise as a journalist, but realizing that the media was changing faster than we all thought.  

In my next Twitter, I’ll try to squeeze in the next Watergate.

Emil Guillermo on campaign finance: Rod McLeod’s run for SF judge a political experiment that tries to be above it all by spending practically nothing

Rod McLeod–an accomplished trial lawyer and partner at one of the world’s biggest firms–is running on Tuesday for a Superior Court judgeship in the City and County of San Francisco.

But he doesn’t want to be bought and sold like a common politician.

To McLeod, that would be unseemly.

A vote for him is a vote against the same old same old in politics where money trumps all. Isn’t that refreshing.

He felt that way when I first wrote about him. Now with days before the election he still feels confident he’s done the right thing.

“I want to put a stake in the idea you have to have money to run,” McLeod told me  this week.

McLeod has been outspent in the campaign by about 100-1 so far. Compared to two of his opponents who have raised in excess of $100,000, McLeod has spent about $1,250  his own money in the race.

He’s decided to take zero campaign contributions in order to run as a truly objective and impartial individual, beholden to no one, especially those who might expect that donations come with strings attached.

“I don’t want to be the best judge money can buy,” said McLeod, a native San Franciscan and American Filipino, who went to Saint Ignatius High School, and earned his law degree at UC Berkeley’s Boalt School of Law.

Personally, I’ve been good friends with McLeod for nearly 30 years, and I can say he never takes the easy way out.  I’ve known him as a man of uncompromised principle who stands up for what he believes in—even if it could hurt him.

And it has.

At one time, McLeod was considered a rising star in local San Francisco politics after his appointment to a vacant spot on the city’s Board of Education in the ‘80s.  Winning the seat outright in an open election should have been a cinch, except for his unwavering decision to keep his children in Catholic schools.

That glitch was enough to send McLeod back into the private sector to focus on his stellar legal career (he’s currently a partner at Jones and Day).  Not exactly a hard fall. But definitely, it was the public’s loss. McLeod, who was in the Army for over a dozen years as a paratrooper, has always been ready to serve.  But when I last saw him, the plan was for an early retirement.

So in a way, McLeod’s last minute decision to run for the position of retired Judge Wallace Douglas was a real surprise.  It’s also a pay cut.

What wasn’t a surprise was McLeod’s campaign approach.

“Judges shouldn’t be for sale,” McLeod said.

San Francisco is different from other counties where races for judge can cost just a few thousand dollars.

McLeod questions his big bucks opponents? What do their thousands of dollars buy?  A bit more than cardboard signs.

When politicians like Barack Obama fly in with their hand out to raise cash, donors give mightily because they believe money buys access and influence. Want to get your pet issues on the radar? Write a check, get an advocate.

What should be a donor’s expectation in a judges’ race? What equates to access to justice? We all should have access already. That’s equality, right?

But if someone gives more to a judge do you get more justice, better service?  When you go before him, will the new judge quickly bang the gavel and say, “Not guilty”? (It may save in court time, but let’s hope the judge recuses himself before that happens).

Normally in hotly contested judgeship races, the victor need only promise to be tough on crime.

But Superior Court judges do civil as well as criminal cases. McLeod’s two main opponents (an assistant public defender, and an assistant D.A.), may not be as broadly experienced as McLeod, an accomplished civil litigator.  

Ironically, McLeod’s experience as a downtown lawyer is hurting him. People don’t even see him as an Asian American candidate.

Race isn’t an issue here. But class is.

McLeod’s actually received backlash for being a successful trial attorney who’s running against some good, but limited, government bureaucrat lawyers.  They  can claim class as an issue, but they’re the ones outspending McLeod 100-fold.

When you t think of it, voting for judges in the first place is just a strange way for the public to pick a competent, fair and impartial judge. Campaign money here is really a waste.

Appointing judges on merit would make better sense. Elections tend to get away from merit, and focus on money.

If you live in San Francisco, this is a race that could send a message to other politicians brave enough to take a stand against money.

But with Meg Whitman spending millions, don’t expect change to come anytime soon. Not in big races, but maybe in the smaller district and regional races.

I asked McLeod would he spend the money if he followed conventional wisdom that believes spending  money would mean victory?

“If you spent $200,000, you still wouldn’t have certainty,” McLeod said.’

Realistically, the micro-budgeted McLeod does has a chance in this race if he can finish in the top 2 and no one gets 50 percent of the vote—a real possibility for this judgeship.

And in a run-off? “I’d spend the same amount,” he said.

I wouldn’t expect any different from my old friend Rod, principled to the end.

That he can’t be bought and paid for makes him an appealing and refreshing choice as the best person for San Francisco’s Superior Court.

Emil Guillermo on Armando Galarraga’s “Perfect” game: In face of the facts, why insist on Jim Joyce’s imperfection? Bring on “Truth in Baseball”

In real life, fighting for justice is hard. You don’t get to be the Brown as in Board of Education on a lark. Or Plessy. Or Wong Kim Ark.

That’s why too often we give up the fight. Life’s too short. 

What’s baseball’s excuse?

Baseball is a game. Just a game.  Umpire Jim Joyce’s admission is one thing. But the video is the truth. The Tigers’ Armando Galarraga beat the runner to the bag.  In view of the facts, why do the purists insist on “tradition” and the “way things always have been done”?  The human way, the wrong way.

Slavery was hard for some folks to give up too. But we got over that.  Innocents have died before DNA was used.

There is life, death, and then there’s baseball.

Bud Selig, go with the truth. Change the call. This isn’t like a steroids policy call. This is just what it is, an easily corrected error.

At least asterisk it as a blown call.  But it will designate the turning point when truth really mattered in baseball.