theatlantic--2020-04-16--The Coronavirus Is Splitting America in Two

These political , public-health , and economic trends all point toward the same possibility : Just as the disease is unfolding very differently in larger and smaller places , the gap between voter preferences there in the presidential race could reach astronomical , and possibly unprecedented , heights .
Epidemiologists and other medical experts disagree on whether the disease will ultimately besiege smaller places to a greater extent than it has so far .
But there ’ s no question that it ’ s exacted its heaviest costs on major cities and their inner suburbs , including New York City @ @ @ @ @ @ @ New Orleans , Los Angeles , and Seattle .
“ Densely populated urban areas are uniquely vulnerable to rapid spread of the virus , ” said Larry Levitt , the executive vice president for health policy at the nonpartisan Kaiser Family Foundation .
The research conducted at The Atlantic ’ s request by Kolko , the chief economist at the employment website Indeed , quantifies that dynamic .
Using a comprehensive county database maintained by The New York Times , Kolko calculated the number of coronavirus cases per million people within four different @ @ @ @ @ @ @ areas of at least 1 million people ; those in metros of 250,000 to 1 million ; those in small metros with less than 250,000 ; and those in counties outside of metro areas .
The consistent result was that , in most states , heavily populated areas are suffering many more cases per person .
Perhaps the most extreme example : The counties in New York state that fall under the largest metro category—New York City and its environs—have 12,454 cases per million residents .
That ’ s compared to 3,304 in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1,556 in the smaller metros , and 915 in the non-metro counties .
In Michigan , where the Detroit area has been ravaged by the disease , the caseload drops from 4,787 per million residents in the largest counties to 1,000 per million in the mid-sized metros , 874 in the smaller metros , and just 346 in the non-metro counties .
Read : The two states where Trump ’ s COVID-19 response could backfire in 2020 Similar patterns apply across a wide range of states .
In Illinois , where the coronavirus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the largest metro counties are experiencing seven times as many cases per person as the mid-sized metros , and more than eight times as many as the non-metro counties .
In California , where both the San Francisco and Los Angeles areas have been hit hard , the largest metropolitan counties have more than three times as many cases per capita as the small metro and non-metro communities .
A similar pattern is also evident in Ohio , Wisconsin , and Pennsylvania across the Rust Belt and North Carolina , Florida , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Kolko ’ s data show .
The few exceptions were states that have suffered large outbreaks in rural areas , such as Georgia ( where the caseload in small places is as heavy as in the big cities ) and Arizona ( where the caseload in non-metro counties has exceeded that of the biggest places ) .

Updated on April 16, 2020 at 3:59 p.m. ET
The coronavirus pandemic appears destined to widen the political divide between the nation’s big cities and the smaller places beyond them. And that could narrow Donald Trump’s possible pathways to reelection.
In almost every state, the outbreak is spreading much more heavily in the largest metropolitan centers than in less densely populated areas, even when the figures are adjusted on a per capita basis, according to a new analysis by the economist Jed Kolko provided exclusively to The Atlantic.
That pattern threatens to exacerbate one of Trump’s most conspicuous political vulnerabilities: his historical weakness in big metropolitan areas that are full of the minority and white-collar white voters most skeptical of him. From the Virginia governor’s race in 2017, to a sweep of suburban House districts in 2018, to the upset victory in Kentucky’s gubernatorial race last year, Democrats have consistently posted significant gains in these areas under Trump. The pattern continued in the unexpected Democratic victory this week in a highly contested state-supreme-court election in Wisconsin, a state that could be the tipping point in the 2020 presidential race.
The question for Trump this fall will be whether he can offset that weakness by matching or building on his dominant advantage in exurban, small-town, and rural communities. In Wisconsin this week, the GOP lost ground with those voters too, but by and large, polling still shows Trump holding a strong position among them. And because most rural communities are facing fewer cases of the disease so far, they may be much more receptive than big-city leaders and voters to Trump’s calls to reopen the economy as quickly as possible.
These political, public-health, and economic trends all point toward the same possibility: Just as the disease is unfolding very differently in larger and smaller places, the gap between voter preferences there in the presidential race could reach astronomical, and possibly unprecedented, heights.
Epidemiologists and other medical experts disagree on whether the disease will ultimately besiege smaller places to a greater extent than it has so far. But there’s no question that it’s exacted its heaviest costs on major cities and their inner suburbs, including New York City, Detroit, Chicago, Boston, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Seattle. “Densely populated urban areas are uniquely vulnerable to rapid spread of the virus,” said Larry Levitt, the executive vice president for health policy at the nonpartisan Kaiser Family Foundation.
The research conducted at The Atlantic’s request by Kolko, the chief economist at the employment website Indeed, quantifies that dynamic. Using a comprehensive county database maintained by The New York Times, Kolko calculated the number of coronavirus cases per million people within four different regional categories: those in large metropolitan areas of at least 1 million people; those in metros of 250,000 to 1 million; those in small metros with less than 250,000; and those in counties outside of metro areas. The consistent result was that, in most states, heavily populated areas are suffering many more cases per person.
Perhaps the most extreme example: The counties in New York State that fall under the largest metro category—New York City and its environs—have 12,454 cases per million residents. That’s compared with 3,304 in New York’s midsize metros, 1,556 in the smaller metros, and 915 in the nonmetro counties. In Michigan, where the Detroit area has been ravaged by the disease, the caseload drops from 4,787 per million residents in the largest counties to 1,000 per million in the midsize metros, 874 in the smaller metros, and just 346 in the nonmetro counties.
Read: The two states where Trump’s COVID-19 response could backfire in 2020
Similar patterns apply across a wide range of states. In Illinois, where the coronavirus has battered Chicago and its closest suburbs, the largest metro counties are experiencing seven times as many cases per person as the midsize metros, and more than eight times as many as the nonmetro counties. In California, where both the San Francisco and Los Angeles areas have been hit hard, the largest metropolitan counties have more than three times as many cases per capita as the small metro and nonmetro communities. A similar pattern is also evident in Ohio, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania across the Rust Belt and North Carolina, Florida, and Texas across the Sun Belt, Kolko’s data show.
The few exceptions were states that have suffered large outbreaks in rural areas, such as Georgia (where the caseload in small places is as heavy as in the big cities) and Arizona (where the caseload in nonmetro counties has exceeded that of the biggest places).
The strains on public-health systems have followed these same tracks. Although the big metro areas typically have much greater hospital capacity than smaller places, they are also facing much greater pressure. Hospital systems in cities such as New York City and Detroit have faced widespread infection among health workers, as well as severe equipment shortages.
Large hospitals have reported a far greater surge in demand for medical equipment than smaller hospitals, according to new research from Premier Inc., a company that manages bulk purchasing for hospitals. In the survey, conducted in mid-March before the worst of the outbreak hit, large hospitals reported that they were using 17 times as many N95 masks as usual, Soumi Saha, the company’s senior director of advocacy, told me. Smaller hospitals were using about seven times as many. “The surge in demand that we are seeing currently is truly unprecedented,” Saha said.
These contrasting experiences help explain the divergence in attitudes toward Trump’s handling of the crisis. In a national Quinnipiac University survey released last week, just 37 percent of adults living in cities and 44 percent of those in suburbs said they approved of Trump’s management of the outbreak. By stark contrast, 63 percent of those in rural areas said they approved. In the latest tracking polling conducted by the Democratic firms GBAO and the Global Strategy Group, a majority of Americans in all three regions said Trump failed to take the threat seriously enough at the outset of the pandemic. But the numbers were significantly higher in urban and suburban areas, where almost two-thirds of respondents said he acted too slowly.
Other danger signs are sprouting for Trump in big urban centers. Maricopa County, which includes Phoenix, was the largest county in America that Trump won in 2016. But a new poll, released this week by the Republican firm OH Predictive Insights, found Trump trailing former Vice President Joe Biden there by 13 percentage points. The survey also found Biden leading by nine points statewide, even though Democrats haven’t won Arizona in a presidential race since 1996. These results track with Maricopa’s movement away from the GOP in 2018, when Democratic Senator Kyrsten Sinema won the ordinarily Republican-leaning county by about four points.
The results in Wisconsin this week offered an even more visceral measure of Trump’s continuing risk in major population centers. In the state’s supreme-court election—whose timing was extremely controversial, given the pandemic—the liberal Jill Karofsky decisively ousted the conservative incumbent Daniel Kelly.
Karofsky showed formidable strength across the state’s population centers, even though they are confronting the most serious outbreaks of the disease. Although the number of polling places in Milwaukee was limited to just five, Karofsky amassed a 70,000-vote advantage in that county. She also carried Dane County, which includes the state capital of Madison, by a crushing 62-percentage-point margin. That’s far larger than Hillary Clinton’s advantage there in 2016 (48 points) or the Democrat Tony Evers’s lead in the 2018 governor’s race (51 points).
“Dane County is the fastest-growing county in the state: massive electronic-medical-records [industry], plus biotech—and that’s not even counting the big insurance-industry component, the University of Wisconsin, and state government,” said Charles Franklin, a law and public-policy professor at Marquette University’s law school and the director of its respected public poll. “Not only does [the county] grow, but its turnout rate goes up year after year, and it’s even more Democratic from race to race to race.”
Karofsky also posted notable gains in two sets of suburban counties that are closely watched during election season. The so-called WOW counties outside of Milwaukee—Waukesha, Ozaukee, and Washington—are perhaps the most Republican-leaning major suburban counties north of the Mason-Dixon line. But, as Franklin noted, Trump won them in 2016 by less than Mitt Romney did in 2012. More recently, former Republican Governor Scott Walker carried them by a smaller margin in his losing 2018 campaign than he did in his winning 2014 race.
This week, Karofsky significantly reduced the GOP’s margin in all three counties—not only compared with Trump’s wins, but also compared with another state-supreme-court election last year. “In the WOW counties, I believe there is something systematically happening,” Franklin said. “Though it has not converted them from red to blue, it has converted them from deep red to less red.”
Just as strikingly, Karofsky won all three of the so-called BOW counties around Green Bay—Brown, Outagamie, and Winnebago—which Trump had carried comfortably in 2016, and Walker more narrowly in 2018.
Republicans, with justification, argue that the results may be skewed because the election took place on the same day as the Democratic presidential primary, which may have tilted the turnout more toward Democratic voters.
But these results are consistent with one of the most powerful political through lines of the Trump era: a recoil from his vision of the Republican Party among urban and suburban voters. In 2016, Trump lost 87 of the 100 largest U.S. counties, by a combined nearly 15 million votes. That was significantly larger than Romney’s 11.6-million-vote deficit in the 100 largest counties. In 2018, Republicans were routed in suburban House districts not only in metropolitan areas that were already trending toward the Democrats—including New Jersey and Northern Virginia and Chicago, Detroit, and Denver—but also in places where the GOP had previously remained strong, such as Richmond, Atlanta, Houston, Dallas, and Orange County, California.
Read: Big cities won’t snap back to normal
Geoff Garin, the veteran Democratic pollster, said that since 2018, Trump has not offered any concessions in policy or style to the moderate, white-collar suburban voters who stampeded away from the party.
“I haven’t seen anything to suggest that what happened to Trump and Republicans in the suburbs in 2018 has abated, and it’s hard to think of anything they’ve done or even tried to do that would make their situation any better in the suburbs than it was,” Garin said. If anything, Trump’s volatile behavior during the coronavirus outbreak has highlighted the concerns that many white-collar voters express about his temperament, Garin said: “that he doesn’t tell the truth, [that] he refuses to listen to experts, that his whole leadership style is erratic and chaotic when the country needs stable and steady leadership.”
In a measure of that vulnerability, national polls released last week by Monmouth University and CNN both found that fewer than 40 percent of college-educated white voters said they approved of Trump’s response to the outbreak; the OH poll found Biden leading Trump by 14 percentage points among the same voters in Arizona, another stunning margin.
To varying degrees, Republicans in the Trump era have been able to make up for their suburban decline with commanding margins among exurban, rural, and small-town voters, who are more likely to be blue-collar, white, and Christian. Despite his deficit in the 100 largest counties, Trump won more than 2,600 counties overall in 2016, more than any nominee of either party since Ronald Reagan in 1984.
But since then, there have been hints that Trump might struggle to replicate these results. In the 2018 House races, the share of the total vote won by Democrats increased by roughly the same amount in rural and more urban places compared with 2016, according to calculations by Bill Bishop, a reporter for The Daily Yonder website, which tracks rural issues. Andy Beshear, the Kentucky Democrat, notched some rural gains in his winning governor’s race last year, and Karofsky this week notably improved on recent Democratic showings in the rural northwest corner of Wisconsin.
Still, even with those gains, it’s not all good news for Democrats. The party won less than 40 percent of the total 2018 House vote in the most rural counties, according to The Daily Yonder’s classification system. Big rural margins also helped Republicans oust Democratic senators in Missouri, North Dakota, and Indiana that year. Karofsky still lost most of the counties in Wisconsin’s northwest. And the debate over how quickly to reopen the economy could align Trump with many rural communities against most Democrats and public-health experts.
Many big-city mayors are dubious that it will be safe anytime soon to reopen their economies on a mass scale, and they’ve warned that economic recovery could come slowly. “There may also be bigger challenges getting people back to work in urban areas,” Levitt, of the Kaiser Family Foundation, said. “People in cities rely much more heavily on public transportation, and they work and shop in much closer quarters.”
“The piecemeal fashion that we entered into these ‘stay at home’ orders could prove disastrous if we take a similar approach to exiting these orders,” Dallas Mayor Eric Johnson texted me on Thursday. “A more coordinated approach to relaxing and ultimately ending these harsh restrictions—whether it is national, statewide or regional—is our best insurance against the virus raging back and making all of our sacrifices for naught.”
A divergence in the economic recovery of urban and nonurban areas—coming after a comparable split in their experience with the disease itself—could put Trump in a difficult position. It could force him to generate even bigger margins in small communities to offset a potentially weaker performance than last time in the largest ones. In all these ways, the virus’s effect on America is coursing through the channels already cut by its existing geographic and political differences. It should surprise no one if a current this powerful and destabilizing only deepens that divide.


theatlantic--2020-01-07--The Real Power of Bloomberg’s Money

The Real Power of Bloomberg’s Money

Think of his money , one Bloomberg aide told me , as powering a skunkworks for city innovations .
It allowed him to reduce political risk , because he could foot the bill for policy experimentation himself , instead of leaving it to the taxpayers .
When Bloomberg wanted to try covering paid-leave time for city workers , he didn ’ t go to the city council to approve new funding for a program .
When his administration wanted to reduce the number of garbage trucks on the road by splitting them between general waste and recyclables , he could @ @ @ @ @ @ @ equipment .
Read : A Bloomberg presidential run comes down to one question In short , the money Bloomberg spent in office helped him to be more popular and successful as mayor than he otherwise would have been .
Much of this money can ’ t be tracked by the usual means of measuring funds in politics : campaign-finance disclosures .
Bloomberg is generally seen as one of the most effective mayors in the history of the city .
How much of that perception is based on the money he spent on ad @ @ @ @ @ @ @ initiatives ; or on flying state legislators to his home in Bermuda , where they golfed and often walked away with big checks for their reelection committees ; or on funding education-reform groups that backed his efforts to seize control of the public schools from the state government ?
How much of what seemed to be his organic grassroots support can be traced , directly and indirectly , to outlays of cash ?
“ I think every other politician would love to have the money to reinforce their message and to tell people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re great , ” Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti said to me recently about Bloomberg ’ s methods .
( Garcetti has tried to copy them , albeit without the massive personal wealth to subsidize them .
He has also said he ’ s open to endorsing Bloomberg ’ s presidential run . )
Bloomberg ’ s private spending “ is what defined him as somebody people had to like and at least respect—because he doesn ’ t kiss up ; he doesn ’ t tell them what they want to hear , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and CEO of the Partnership for New York City , which often served as a cheerleading group for Bloomberg while he was mayor .
What made him “ somebody that people would vote for and admire as mayor were his roles as a philanthropist and a selfless advocate on issues.
” For his 2020 presidential run , top staff members of the Bloomberg nonprofits promoting gun control , climate-change prevention , and city innovation have started working for the campaign .
He has unapologetically hamstrung the huge news organization he owns , Bloomberg @ @ @ @ @ @ @ implicitly pro-Bloomberg 2020 editorials in the weeks before he made his run official to suspending the editorial board and having many of the same people who were writing them also move over to the campaign ; the political reporters there worry about not being taken seriously anymore .
Using the standards by which other candidates are judged , all this would be considered campaign expenses or hidden costs .
Bloomberg shrugs this off , saying that because he ’ s never taken any campaign contributions , he can ’ t be bought .

When people think about the political relevance of Michael Bloomberg’s money, they tend to think about how his massive spending helps his campaigns: the record $261 million he spent on his three successful mayoral runs, the billions he could end up spending on his quest for the presidency. What people often miss is that Bloomberg actually spent more of his own money boosting his policy efforts in city hall than he did to get there.
Part of Bloomberg’s presidential sales pitch is that his personal wealth—he’s worth an estimated $56 billion—makes him incorruptible. Not only is he unbribeable; being rich enough to never take political contributions, he can assume office unbeholden to donors. But Bloomberg is so rich that he shifts the direction of potential influence: Donors may not be able to buy influence, but he can use his wealth to push things in the directions he wants.
Bloomberg spent extensively as mayor of New York. He gave massive sums to nonprofit organizations and arts groups. He contributed enormous amounts in political donations out of his personal bank account. (Most politicians make political donations out of their campaign accounts or PACs.) He funded nonprofit organizations that boosted his policy agenda. When church groups or community organizations threatened to get noisy in opposition to him or his programs, he wrote checks that tended to quiet them down. (Top Democrats were known to tease black ministers who got only $25,000 for their churches, when peers who’d held out longer received $50,000—the deal was that these ministers didn’t have to support him, but if they wanted the checks to keep coming, they needed to stay neutral.) His company, Bloomberg LP, made many corporate contributions that lined up with his political interests. The money kept coming and coming and coming and coming. It broke logjams, and overcame institutional resistance. His money allowed him to drown out the opposition—and often made potential rivals hold their tongue. The timely and balanced budgets Bloomberg touted each year in PowerPoint presentations were enabled in part by spending cuts to groups that were then made whole again by the most transparent of anonymous donations. The money he spent led to fewer protests, and deals that were easier to make.
Think of his money, one Bloomberg aide told me, as powering a skunkworks for city innovations. It allowed him to reduce political risk, because he could foot the bill for policy experimentation himself, instead of leaving it to the taxpayers. When Bloomberg wanted to try covering paid-leave time for city workers, he didn’t go to the city council to approve new funding for a program. When his administration wanted to reduce the number of garbage trucks on the road by splitting them between general waste and recyclables, he could use private money to underwrite the new equipment.
Read: A Bloomberg presidential run comes down to one question
In short, the money Bloomberg spent in office helped him to be more popular and successful as mayor than he otherwise would have been. Much of this money can’t be tracked by the usual means of measuring funds in politics: campaign-finance disclosures.
Bloomberg is generally seen as one of the most effective mayors in the history of the city. How much of that perception is based on the money he spent on ad campaigns that promoted his anti-smoking and healthy-eating initiatives; or on flying state legislators to his home in Bermuda, where they golfed and often walked away with big checks for their reelection committees; or on funding education-reform groups that backed his efforts to seize control of the public schools from the state government? How much of what seemed to be his organic grassroots support can be traced, directly and indirectly, to outlays of cash? “I think every other politician would love to have the money to reinforce their message and to tell people that, you know, they’re great,” Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti said to me recently about Bloomberg’s methods. (Garcetti has tried to copy them, albeit without the massive personal wealth to subsidize them. He has also said he’s open to endorsing Bloomberg’s presidential run.)
Bloomberg’s private spending “is what defined him as somebody people had to like and at least respect—because he doesn’t kiss up; he doesn’t tell them what they want to hear,” says Kathy Wylde, the president and CEO of the Partnership for New York City, which often served as a cheerleading group for Bloomberg while he was mayor. What made him “somebody that people would vote for and admire as mayor were his roles as a philanthropist and a selfless advocate on issues.”
For his 2020 presidential run, top staff members of the Bloomberg nonprofits promoting gun control, climate-change prevention, and city innovation have started working for the campaign. He has unapologetically hamstrung the huge news organization he owns, Bloomberg News, which has gone from publishing implicitly pro-Bloomberg 2020 editorials in the weeks before he made his run official to suspending the editorial board and having many of the same people who were writing them also move over to the campaign; the political reporters there worry about not being taken seriously anymore. Using the standards by which other candidates are judged, all of this would be considered campaign expenses or hidden costs. Bloomberg shrugs this off, saying that because he’s never taken any campaign contributions, he can’t be bought.
“I agree with him,” Randi Weingarten, the head of the national teachers’ union who regularly tangled with Mayor Bloomberg when she led its New York City chapter, told me. “I don’t think he can be bought. But that misunderstands the nature of politics and the importance of money in politics.”
When there were fights over contracts and other policies, Weingarten remembers, old allies in church and civic groups suddenly fell “silent because of the influence the mayor had. We found out later that some of them were getting donations from him,” she said. “You would notice it because people would whisper to us all the time about it.”
People I spoke with recently told me that Eddy Castell, the campaign manager for the Democratic nominee against Bloomberg in 2009, used to say, “The way Bloomberg threw money around, it was more corrupting to the political process than any other elected official.” (When I asked Castell about this, he declined to comment.)
For most of Bloomberg’s 12 years as mayor, much of his giving to arts and civic groups would be routed through an organization called the Carnegie Corporation of New York, after being asked to help plug a gap in donations by its president, Vartan Gregorian. Officially, this money was given anonymously—but the foundation was in such close contact with city hall about which groups received the checks that government staff would reach out to reporters to flag the list of anonymous donations as soon as it was released by Carnegie. During his first nine years in office, Carnegie gave out $200 million in Bloomberg money.
“Whenever I saw the word anonymous, I knew” where the money had really come from, says Gale Brewer, the Manhattan borough president who was a member of the city council during the Bloomberg years.
Patti Harris—Bloomberg’s top aide then and now—was the point person for this. She also ran the Mayor’s Fund, a separate source of privately raised and Bloomberg-infused money that was directed into city initiatives. In 2010, halfway through his third term, this was all moved to Bloomberg Philanthropies, housed out of the same mansion on the Upper East Side that has largely been taken over by his presidential campaign.
Sometimes the influence of Bloomberg’s money was direct and visible; sometimes it was more subtle. Never was it clearer than during his extension of city term limits. I covered the Bloomberg administration for eight years, and I remember standing outside the handful of show hearings the city council held concerning his term-limits extension in 2008. The rooms at city hall were packed with people who had never taken an interest in municipal affairs before, but were now showing their support for extending term limits. Why were they there? I kept getting the same answer: Their bosses had told them to come. A few worked for arts organizations and other nonprofits. A few worked for the Doe Fund, which provides an array of services for the city’s homeless. The common thread: Bloomberg checks. (When I reached out to George McDonald, a long time term limits opponent who was then and is still the president of the Doe Fund, to ask him about this recently, he didn’t return my call.)
Read: The Bloomberg way
The influence of Bloomberg’s money was also exerted via the fascination he and his wealth held for other rich-but-not-as-rich business leaders. For instance, he was determined to make New York a tech hub, and used his connections and the appeal of hobnobbing with him to draw people in. “He was able to generate and leverage tremendous resources beyond what he contributed,” Wylde says. “Today we are a global tech hub—and it’s because of how Mike used his global reach into the tech community to drag them into New York. And they were happy to do it, because they wanted to be in the room with him.” Occasionally, he would line up business leaders he could nudge into following him, such as when he dropped millions at crucial moments into the gay-marriage-legalization effort in 2011, while also encouraging business leaders to sign a letter of support. “Because he had so much money, he could make that an extension of his vision for New York,” Jon Reinish, a Democratic operative who worked on that effort, told me recently. “He was able to do more, given who he was and what he had at his disposal.”
Bloomberg’s influence could be almost invisible, with him steering business to companies and firms connected to allies in ways that were whispered about but never fully traced or proved.
Stu Loeser, Bloomberg’s longest-serving press secretary in city hall who now works on the presidential campaign, told me all the giving simply came down to asking wealthy New Yorkers to “follow his lead and donate to city nonprofits that were trying bold but yet-unproven policy proposals.” This wasn’t about trying to suppress dissent, Loeser argued, because Bloomberg often took pushback as evidence that he was doing well—he once told his staff that the lack of bigger protests made him think that he should have gone further in banning large sodas. (This initiative was later struck down by the courts).
Bloomberg is hardly the first politician to benefit from significant outside spending: All modern presidents have been helped by the Democratic or Republican National Committee; all presidents running for reelection have the benefit of their campaign organizations. During his second term, Barack Obama remade his campaign apparatus into the group Organizing for Action. And even as vast as Bloomberg’s fortune is, he wouldn’t be able to leverage it to the same degree beyond the city level—he’s certainly not going to offset federal spending cuts with his private wealth, the way he did in New York. Still, it’s not hard to imagine the way that a President Bloomberg, handing out billions to groups backing him up, would have a significant influence.
Bloomberg’s critics on other campaigns warn that his money blinds him. They say that living in a moneyed bubble led him to choose as leader of the New York public schools a magazine executive he knew from Upper East Side cocktail parties who had never attended public schools and sent her sons to boarding schools. She lasted 95 days and generated multiple scandals, including one caused by her saying that the way to bring class sizes down was through birth control.
Others point out that Bloomberg’s argument that his wealth makes him immune to the influence of money is familiar. “Sounds like Donald Trump’s argument,” Faiz Shakir, Bernie Sanders’s campaign manager, told me. “And all he did was bring his elitist friends into government with him.”
Greg Fischer, the mayor of Louisville, Kentucky, and a longtime Bloomberg supporter, was one of the first Democratic politicians to endorse the mayor’s presidential question. When I saw him at a presidential forum that a group of mayors was hosting in Waterloo, Iowa, in November, I asked him about how Bloomberg might use his money if he were to win the White House. “Resources are always helpful. Mike has strong beliefs in policy and results, and he will marshal the resources to achieve those results,” Fischer said.
What the impact would be at the scale Bloomberg can spend, though, is hard to know.
“We haven’t seen anything like this before,” Fischer said.


theatlantic--2020-01-06--America’s Self-Sabotage in the Middle East

These are the same people insisting that the world is a safer place during the cascade of bad news that has followed Soleimani ’ s death—even as the State Department told all U.S. citizens in Iraq to leave immediately .
Yet the general ’ s killing only accelerated trends that were already under way .
Iran had been blowing through its commitments under the Obama administration ’ s 2015 nuclear deal for months by the time its leadership announced yesterday that it wouldn ’ t observe any more of the agreement ’ s limits on its nuclear program .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2018 and vowed to get a better one—one that would check Iran ’ s proxy violence and missile development in addition to its nuclear program .
None of those things have happened .
As for Iran ’ s growing influence in the region , Pompeo tends to trace it to the nuclear deal , which gave Iran sanctions relief he says has been used to fund terrorism .
But Iran ’ s recent expansion started much earlier , with the 2003 invasion of Iraq , which gave Iranian-backed militias a foothold in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ attack U.S. forces .
The anti-ISIS fight only empowered them further as the Iraqi government relied in part on them to beat back the insurgents .
Iraq has ever since been struggling to bring them under government control .
And the U.S. has spent millions of dollars training Iraqi forces and trying to pull the country out of Iran ’ s orbit .
Meanwhile , the Syrian conflict , in which Iranian forces and their proxies have backed Bashar al-Assad , has helped the country consolidate what officials call a “ Shia crescent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ through Iraq , and into Syria and Lebanon .
The Iranian military has also conducted joint exercises with China and Russia .
And once again , part of the ISIS fight is on hold .
Not only have the Americans paused their cooperation with Iraqi units since Soleimani ’ s killing ; the rest of NATO has suspended its operations in Iraq too .
This is the second time in three months that counter-ISIS operations have had to be stalled ; the first was after Trump opted to move U.S. forces in northeastern @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Turkish attack against America ’ s Kurdish allies there .
In the short term , Trump officials keep saying their goal with Iran is to “ restore deterrence , ” that each additional movement of troops to the region—or as of last week , each military strike—aims to stop the cycle of violence by making clear to Iran the consequences of its actions .
The problem is that if the Iranians aren ’ t deterred , they may take violent steps of their own for much the same reason the U.S. has : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Read : The blueprint Iran could follow after Soleimani ’ s death One advantage to having mutually contradictory policy goals is that when one fails , another might succeed .
Yes , what the military calls the “ enduring defeat of ISIS ” achieved “ by , with and through ” local partners like the Iraqis may now be coming to an end—it ’ s hard to be “ with ” them if you ’ re leaving .
But that ’ s just the goal of executive-branch institutions like the State Department and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ himself—and even though he ’ s declared that the U.S. is not leaving unless the Iraqis pay for the air base the U.S. constructed in their country—his real preference has been clear since the 2016 election campaign .
“ We should have never been there in the first place , ” he said in October 2017 .
“ Let someone else fight over this long-bloodstained sand , ” he said two years later .
The contradictions are not just between Trump and the rest of his administration , but within Trump himself .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ of ISIS and tried to leave Syria , only to get talked out of it .
He professes to hate war , but he loves killing bad guys .
What happens after they ’ re dead is someone else ’ s responsibility .

The Trump administration is still celebrating the death of Qassem Soleimani, the Iranian military commander the president called “the number-one terrorist anywhere in the world.” But in a single hectic weekend after the killing, virtually all of America’s other goals in the Middle East took a significant hit.
The U.S. wants to stop Iran from going nuclear; Iran said it would ditch the last restrictions on its nuclear program. The U.S. wants to check Iran’s influence throughout the region; one of America’s closest allies, Iraq, incensed that the U.S. struck Soleimani on its own soil when he was there as a guest of the government, gave Iran a victory in a nonbinding parliamentary vote asking U.S. forces to leave the country—which a commander in the counter-ISIS mission in Iraq said in a letter he would honor, sparking confusion and forcing Secretary of Defense Mark Esper to deny any plans to leave Iraq. The U.S. wants to keep the Islamic State down through its Iraqi partner forces; the relationship is now damaged, and the U.S. coalition has paused its counter-ISIS operations in the country to focus on guarding against Iranian attacks.
Depending on what happens next, all of this could add up to big opportunities for two U.S. enemies—if ISIS can reconstitute and Iran can expand its influence.
The chaos extends beyond Iraq and Iran, and had been gathering for months before this weekend. It has hit worried allies in the Gulf, who in recent months have seen their shipping lanes and oil infrastructure targeted and have quietly tried to tamp down tensions with Iran. It has emboldened dictators like Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erodğan, who is flexing his strength in Libya after intervening, counter to American wishes, against American allies in Syria. And it has damaged friendships with European allies, who keep scrambling to deal with Donald Trump’s impulsive decisions—and have just barely recovered from his surprise attempt to withdraw from Syria last fall.
Read: What America’s allies really think about Trump’s Syria decision
Regardless, this could lead to victory for Trump anyway, because he’s made clear his one overriding goal: to leave the Middle East.
Except that up until Monday he was mostly getting further in. The U.S. has sent thousands of additional troops to the region, as well as a contingent of marines to guard the U.S. embassy in Iraq after protesters tried to storm it last week. Thousands of additional troops have headed to the Middle East since last week; another 14,000 have deployed since May. Trump just this weekend vowed not to leave Iraq. But even if he does get out of one Middle Eastern country, he has also threatened to strike into another, threatening to hit targets within Iran if it “strikes any Americans, or American assets.”
Pentagon officials have consistently characterized their repeated deployments to the region as defensive measures. Even after the U.S. struck five sites in Iraq and Syria that the military says were linked to Iraq’s Kataib Hezbollah group, which the U.S. blames for the death of an American contractor in a rocket attack right after Christmas, Esper said: “The United States military responded [and] took defensive actions ... striking a combination of the command and control or weapons caches with considerable effect.” Ditto the unprecedented hit on Soleimani, which Trump said was to stop an “imminent and sinister” attack.
Read: The Soleimani assassination is America’s most consequential strike this century
Absent more information on the specific plot the administration said it disrupted—Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Mark Milley told reporters that a failure to act would have been “culpably negligent”—it’s hard to say whether the benefits were worth the costs. If the U.S. did in fact stop an attack that could have taken “hundreds” of American lives, as Secretary of State Mike Pompeo has claimed, it may have been worth it. The problem is that Trump lies routinely, and his officials just as routinely cover for him. The New York Times reported that even some Trump officials were skeptical of the intelligence, and said that one U.S. official described the intelligence as simply “another Monday in the Middle East.” As my colleague Peter Nicholas wrote last week: “Trump faces the gravest foreign-policy crisis of his tenure at a time when his credibility has been shredded.”
Another example occurred just this weekend. After Trump tweeted he had a 52-target list including sites “important to Iran & the Iranian culture,” Pompeo responded to criticism that targeting cultural sites would be a war crime. “President Trump didn’t say he’d go after a cultural site,” Pompeo said on Fox News. “Read what he said very closely.” Hours later, Trump, en route to Washington after a two-week vacation in Florida, told a journalist: “They’re allowed to kill our people. They’re allowed to torture and maim our people. They’re allowed to use roadside bombs and blow up our people. And we’re not allowed to touch their cultural [sites]? It doesn’t work that way.” At a press gaggle today, the president’s counselor Kellyanne Conway confused matters further: “Secretary Pompeo said yesterday that we will be within the law, and I think that Iran has many … strategic military sites that you may cite are also cultural sites … He didn’t say he’s targeting cultural sites.”
These are the same people insisting that the world is a safer place during the cascade of bad news that has followed Soleimani’s death—even as the State Department told all U.S. citizens in Iraq to leave immediately.
Yet the general’s killing only accelerated trends that were already under way. Iran had been blowing through its commitments under the Obama administration’s 2015 nuclear deal for months by the time its leadership announced yesterday that it wouldn’t observe any more of the agreement’s limits on its nuclear program. The Trump administration left the nuclear deal in 2018 and vowed to get a better one—one that would check Iran’s proxy violence and missile development in addition to its nuclear program. None of those things have happened.
As for Iran’s growing influence in the region, Pompeo tends to trace it to the nuclear deal, which gave Iran sanctions relief he says has been used to fund terrorism. But Iran’s recent expansion started much earlier, with the 2003 invasion of Iraq, which gave Iranian-backed militias a foothold in the country and a base from which to attack U.S. forces. The anti-ISIS fight only empowered them further as the Iraqi government relied in part on them to beat back the insurgents. Iraq has ever since been struggling to bring them under government control. And the U.S. has spent millions of dollars training Iraqi forces and trying to pull the country out of Iran’s orbit. Meanwhile, the Syrian conflict, in which Iranian forces and their proxies have backed Bashar al-Assad, has helped the country consolidate what officials call a “Shia crescent” of influence extending from Iran, through Iraq, and into Syria and Lebanon. The Iranian military has also conducted joint exercises with China and Russia.
And once again, part of the ISIS fight is on hold. Not only have the Americans paused their cooperation with Iraqi units since Soleimani’s killing; the rest of NATO has suspended its operations in Iraq too. This is the second time in three months that counter-ISIS operations have had to be stalled; the first was after Trump opted to move U.S. forces in northeastern Syria out of the way of a Turkish attack against America’s Kurdish allies there.
In the short term, Trump officials keep saying their goal with Iran is to “restore deterrence,” that each additional movement of troops to the region—or as of last week, each military strike—aims to stop the cycle of violence by making clear to Iran the consequences of its actions. The problem is that if the Iranians aren’t deterred, they may take violent steps of their own for much the same reason the U.S. has: to prove that there are consequences.
Read: The blueprint Iran could follow after Soleimani’s death
One advantage to having mutually contradictory policy goals is that when one fails, another might succeed. Yes, what the military calls the “enduring defeat of ISIS” achieved “by, with and through” local partners like the Iraqis may now be coming to an end—it’s hard to be “with” them if you’re leaving. But that’s just the goal of executive-branch institutions like the State Department and the Pentagon. As for the president himself—and even though he’s declared that the U.S. is not leaving unless the Iraqis pay for the air base the U.S. constructed in their country—his real preference has been clear since the 2016 election campaign. “We should have never been there in the first place,” he said in October 2017. “Let someone else fight over this long-bloodstained sand,” he said two years later.
The contradictions are not just between Trump and the rest of his administration, but within Trump himself. He has twice now declared the defeat of ISIS and tried to leave Syria, only to get talked out of it. He professes to hate war, but he loves killing bad guys. What happens after they’re dead is someone else’s responsibility.


theatlantic--2020-01-06--The 2020 U.S. Presidential Race: A Cheat Sheet

Julián Castro is often mistaken for his identical twin brother , Joaquín , a member of the U.S. House of Representatives .
The two men almost bear more resemblance to each other than the Julián Castro who entered the presidential race almost a year ago , on January 12 , 2019 , does to the Julián Castro who left it on January 6 , 2020 .
When Castro , the former mayor of San Antonio and secretary of housing and urban development under President Barack Obama , joined the race , he seemed to be reaching for his old boss @ @ @ @ @ @ @ inspirational rhetoric .
( Castro even appeared to be basing his speaking patterns , to an annoying and distracting degree , on Obama ’ s—though if you ’ re going to imitate , you might as well imitate the best . )
But that didn ’ t seem to get Castro anywhere .
Democratic voters are still fond of Obama , and so are the candidates , but the angry national mood has made the Obama approach tougher to sustain , and former Vice President Joe Biden ’ s entry made it hard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mantle of the Obama administration .
The Castro campaign seemed to be stuck in neutral .
Even worse , former Representative Beto O ’ Rourke entered the race , meaning Castro wasn ’ t even the most lauded charismatic , young , Spanish-speaking candidate from Texas .
Yet Castro was quietly evolving into a more intriguing candidate .
For one thing , he loosened up a little bit .
As my colleague Edward-Isaac Dovere noted , he developed a knack for one-liners and stump banter .
Castro didn ’ t just deploy this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stage , too .
Pundits consistently gave his debate performances high marks .
In September , he became one of the first Democratic candidates to take Biden on directly , questioning Biden ’ s memory in what many people took as an implicit dig at the front-runner ’ s age .
( The attack might have been more effective if Castro had been stronger on the facts . )
The more interesting transformation was on policy , where Castro went from bland technocrat to an impassioned voice on several issues .
The most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Castro sought to use his own ethnicity—he was the only Latino candidate in the race—without letting it define him .
He pushed the field left on immigration policy , particularly on whether to decriminalize unauthorized entry into the United States .
And while he was never able to keep pace with Senators Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren , he championed an array of left-wing policies , such as police reform , and gained a following for them .
Castro also outlasted O ’ Rourke , who ran out of gas in November .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ wasn ’ t enough to save his candidacy .
Struggling for attention and money , Castro announced January 2 that he would leave the race .
He sits at 1.2 percent in RealClearPolitics ’ polling average—almost undistinguishable from the 1.5 percent he drew in late January last year .
“ I ’ ve determined that it simply isn ’ t our time , ” Castro said in a video announcing his decision .
“ I ’ m going to keep fighting for an America where everyone counts—I hope you ’ ll join me @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Castro announced he was endorsing Warren .
Castro is still young by political standards , and his evolution into a more interesting candidate means it ’ s far more likely that his time might still be in the future .
As the primaries progress , this cheat sheet will be updated regularly .
Who is he ?
The billionaire former mayor of New York , Bloomberg is a Democrat turned Republican turned independent turned Democrat again .
Is he running ?
Yes .
Having ruled out a run in March , hizzoner @ @ @ @ @ @ @ officially launched his campaign on November 24 .
Why does he want to run ?
For starters , he is convinced that he ’ d be better and more competent at the job than anyone else .
Bloomberg ’ s bid will likely center on his pet issues of gun control , climate change , and fighting the more fiscally liberal wing of the Democratic Party tooth and silver-plated nail .
Who wants him to run ?
What , is his considerable ego not enough ?
Though his tenure as mayor is generally @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what Bloomberg ’ s Democratic constituency is beyond other wealthy , socially liberal and fiscally conservative types , and it ’ s not as if he needs their money to run .
Can he win the nomination ?
Probably not .
Bloomberg previously toyed with an independent run , but said that would only help Trump in 2020. Who is he ?
Patrick was governor of Massachusetts from 2007 to 2015 , after serving in a top role in Bill Clinton ’ s Justice Department .
More recently , he ’ s worked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ?
Yes .
Patrick officially entered the race on November 14 .
Why does he want to run ?
To be president , of course .
But having passed on a run earlier , Patrick reconsidered because of worries that no one in the Democratic field has strong momentum and can unite the party .
Who wants him to run ?
There ’ s an appetite for new candidates among some in the Democratic donor class , though there ’ s little sign that voters are so eager .
Patrick is close to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has stayed out of the primary .
Can he win ?
We ’ re not saying that a former Massachusetts governor and Bain employee can ’ t win the presidency , but recent history isn ’ t encouraging .
But take it from Patrick : “ I recognize running for president is a Hail Mary under any circumstances .
This is a Hail Mary from two stadiums over.
” What else do we know ?
Patrick ’ s estranged father played in the alien jazz great Sun Ra ’ s Arkestra .
Who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Steyer has poured his fortune into political advocacy on climate change and flirted with running for office .
Is he running ?
No .
He announced on January 9 that he would sit the race out .
Lol jk !
Steyer decided to get back into the race on July 9 after all .
Why does he want to run ?
Impeachment , baby .
Who wants him to run ?
There must be some # Resistance faction out there that does .
Can he win the nomination ?
Nope .
Who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the Senate in 2009 and has since won reelection twice .
Is he running ?
Yes .
Bennet announced his campaign on May 2 .
Why does he want to run ?
Like his fellow Rocky Mountain State Democrat John Hickenlooper , Bennet presents himself as someone with experience in business and management who knows how to work with Republicans .
Who wants him to run ?
Probably some of the same people who wanted Hickenlooper to run .
Bennet gained new fans with a viral video of his impassioned rant about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Can he win ?
No .

Justin Amash took up the Libertarian Party’s standard late in the race. Then he abruptly decided to put it back down again.
When new candidates enter the presidential race, they do so by announcing an “exploratory committee.” That’s pretty much always one of those weird fictions of politics: They’re not exploring anything; they’ve already decided to run.
But Justin Amash has always been different.
Amash, the Republican turned independent congressman from Michigan, announced last month that he was launching an exploratory committee to run for the Libertarian Party nomination for president. Barely two weeks later, on Saturday, Amash announced that he won’t run after all. “After much reflection, I’ve concluded that circumstances don’t lend themselves to my success as a candidate for president this year, and therefore I will not be a candidate,” Amash tweeted.
What a weird sequence! For one thing, third-party candidates in the U.S. practically cannot win. It’s the law—well, it’s a law in political science, named for Maurice Duverger, who formulated it. While Amash insisted that he was in the race to win it, realistic observers understood that though he might affect the political debate or even the outcome of the race, he was not going to be the next president. For another, it’s hard to imagine what Amash learned in the last fortnight about his chances that he couldn’t have considered in mid-April.
Amash’s presumptive entry set off extensive scrutiny about how a third-party candidacy might sway the race: Would he take more votes away from Donald Trump or Joe Biden? Could Amash garner enough votes in his home state, a potentially decisive swing state, to decide the presidency? My colleague Abdallah Fayyad examined these theories in smart detail. Amash’s exit will at least relieve Biden supporters who were terrified that the Libertarian would play spoiler, though it’s not clear how much of a prospect that ever really was.
But Amash’s withdrawal could be a pivotal moment for the Libertarian Party. After years of toiling at 0.5 percent of the popular vote or less, the party has had a breakthrough the past two cycles, both times with former New Mexico Governor Gary Johnson atop the ticket. In 2012, the ticket drew 1 percent; in 2016, with widely loathed candidates atop both major-party tickets, Johnson drew 3.3 percent.
The Libertarian vote was almost certainly going to dip in 2020: The stakes of this election are different, the Democratic candidate is different, and the pandemic complicates third-party bids. Still, a high-profile candidate could have drawn on that momentum. Without Amash, the Libertarian Party probably doesn’t have that. The second-highest-profile contender was, uh, Lincoln Chafee, and he dropped out in early April, citing the pandemic. It’s never too late to get back in and turn the Libertarian Party into the vehicle for mandatory metric-system adoption, though.
Should there be new developments in the race going forward, this cheat sheet will be updated.
* * *
The Democrats
(Jeff Roberson / AP)
JOE BIDEN
Who is he?
Don’t play coy. You know the former vice president, senator from Delaware, and recurring Onion character.
Is he running?
Yes. After a long series of hesitations, Biden announced his campaign on April 25, 2019.
Why does he want to run?
Biden has wanted to be president since roughly forever, and he thinks he might be the best bet to win back blue-collar voters and defeat President Trump in 2020. (Trump reportedly agrees.)
Who wants him to run?
Biden’s sell is all about electability, and his dominant win in South Carolina—after a poor showing in the other early states—rallied the Democratic establishment to his side.
Can he win the nomination?
Indeed, he will.
(Yuri Gripas / Reuters)
BERNIE SANDERS
Who is he?
If you didn’t know the Vermont senator and self-described democratic socialist before his runner-up finish in the 2016 Democratic primary, you do now.
Is he running?
No. Sanders became the last Democratic rival to drop out, conceding the nomination to Biden on April 8, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
For the same reasons he wanted to run in 2016, and the same reasons he’s always run for office: Sanders is passionate about redistributing wealth, fighting inequality, and creating a bigger social-safety net.
Who wanted him to run?
Many of the same people who supported him last time, plus a few converts, minus those who are supporting Sanders-adjacent candidates like Elizabeth Warren or Tulsi Gabbard.
Could he have won the nomination?
It sure seemed like it there for a bit, huh? The parlor game of wondering if a few different choices—attacking Joe Biden head-on, for example—might have carried Sanders to victory will continue for months if not years.
(Simon Dawson / Reuters)
MICHAEL BLOOMBERG
Who is he?
The billionaire former mayor of New York, Bloomberg is a Democrat turned Republican turned independent turned Democrat again.
Is he running?
No longer. He ended his bid the day after a disappointing finish on Super Tuesday, having collected only a few dozen delegates.
Why did he want to run?
He was convinced that he’d be better and more competent at the job than anyone else, and he really wanted to light some money on fire. Bloomberg’s bid centered on his pet issues of gun control, climate change, and fighting the more fiscally liberal wing of the Democratic Party tooth and silver-plated nail.
Who wanted him to run?
What, was his considerable ego not enough? Though his tenure as mayor is generally well regarded, it’s unclear what Bloomberg’s Democratic constituency was beyond other wealthy, socially liberal, and fiscally conservative types, and it’s not as if he needed their money to run.
Could he have won the nomination?
Apparently not.
(Matthew Putney / Reuters)
TOM STEYER
Who is he?
A retired California hedge-funder, Steyer has poured his fortune into political advocacy on climate change and flirted with running for office.
Is he running?
Not anymore. He dropped out after finishing third and earning no delegates in South Carolina on February 29, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
Impeachment, baby.
Who wanted him to run?
Steyer managed to gain ground among African American voters in South Carolina. It was pretty threadbare beyond that.
Could he have won the nomination?
Nope.
(Aaron P. Bernstein / REUTERS)
AMY KLOBUCHAR
Who is she?
She has been a senator from Minnesota since 2007.
Is she running?
She did, from February 9, 2019, to March 2, 2020, when she abruptly dropped out on the eve of Super Tuesday and endorsed Biden.
Why did she want to run?
Klobuchar represents a kind of heartland Democrat—progressive, but not aggressively so—and she hoped to have widespread appeal both in the Midwest and elsewhere. She tended to talk vaguely about middle-class issues.
Who wanted her to run?
She built a constituency among mainstream Democrats. Her exchange with Justice Brett Kavanaugh during his confirmation hearing won her a lot of fans.
Could she have won the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
Sadly, she did not use this fly logo.
(Jonathan Bachman / Reuters)
ELIZABETH WARREN
Who is she?
A senator from Massachusetts since 2013, Warren was previously a professor at Harvard Law School, helped create the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, and wrote a book on middle-class incomes.
Is she running?
She suspended her campaign on March 5, 2020, two days after amassing just a few dozen delegates on Super Tuesday.
Why did she want to run?
Warren’s campaign was tightly focused on inequality, her signature issue since before entering politics. She proposed an “ultra-millionaire tax” on people worth more than $50 million and a major overhaul of housing policies.
Who wanted her to run?
People who backed Senator Bernie Sanders in 2016; people who were Bernie-curious but worried he was too irascible; people who didn’t like Bernie but are left-curious; Donald Trump.
Could she have won the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
She’s got a good doggo.
(City of South Bend, IN)
PETE BUTTIGIEG
Who is he?
The 37-year-old openly gay former mayor of South Bend, Indiana, and Afghan War veteran went from near-anonymity to buzzy-candidate status in his first couple of months in the race.
Is he running?
Not anymore. He dropped out on March 1, 2020, and later endorsed Biden.
Why did he want to run?
Buttigieg’s sell was all about generation. He’s a Millennial and thinks his cohort faces new and unusual pressures and dilemmas that he is singularly equipped to resolve. Plus, it was a useful way to differentiate himself from the blue-haired bigwigs in the blue party.
Who wants him to run?
Buttigieg had slowly climbed in the polls, grabbing attention for crisp answers and an almost Obamaesque demeanor; he had the support of some Obama alumni. He hoped to reach midwestern voters who deserted the Democrats in 2016.
Could he have won the nomination?
For brief moments along the way, it seemed possible.
What else do we know?
It’s “BOOT-edge-edge,” and it’s Maltese for “lord of the poultry.”
(Marco Garcia / AP)
TULSI GABBARD
Who is she?
Gabbard, 37, has represented Hawaii in the U.S. House since 2013. She previously served in Iraq.
Is she running?
Not anymore. Gabbard dropped out on March 19, 2020, long after it became clear she wouldn’t win.
Why did she want to run?
Gabbard said her central issue is “war and peace,” which basically means a noninterventionist foreign policy.
Who wanted her to run?
Gabbard hoped to draw support from Sanders backers. She supported Bernie in 2016, resigning from a post as vice chair of the Democratic National Committee to do so, and she’s modeled herself largely on him.
Could he have won the nomination?
Naaaaaaah.
What else do we know?
If elected, she would have been the first Hindu president.
Brian Snyder / Reuters
DEVAL PATRICK
Who is he?
Patrick was governor of Massachusetts from 2007 to 2015, after serving in a top role in Bill Clinton’s Justice Department. More recently, he’s worked at Bain Capital.
Is he running?
No. Patrick entered the race on November 14, 2019, but left on February 12, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
To be president, of course. But having passed on a run earlier, Patrick reconsidered because of worries that no one in the Democratic field has strong momentum and can unite the party.
Who wanted him to run?
There was an appetite for new candidates among some in the Democratic donor class, but no sign that voters agreed.
Could he have won the nomination?
We’re not saying that a former Massachusetts governor and Bain employee can’t win the presidency, but recent history wasn’t encouraging. Take it from Patrick: “I recognize running for president is a Hail Mary under any circumstances. This is a Hail Mary from two stadiums over.”
What else do we know?
Patrick’s estranged father played in the alien jazz great Sun Ra’s Arkestra.
(JOSHUA LOTT / AFP / Getty)
ANDREW YANG
Who is he?
Yang is a tech entrepreneur who created the test-preparation company Manhattan Prep and then Venture for America, which tries to incubate start-ups outside New York and the Bay Area, and which is based in New York.
Is he running?
No. He filed to run on November 6, 2017, but dropped out on February 11, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
Yang was a 360-degree sprinkler of policy proposals, but his best-known idea was a $1,000 a month universal basic income for every American adult.
Who wanted him to run?
A motley internet movement, including many fans of Joe Rogan’s podcast.
Could he have won the nomination?
Nope.
(Samantha Sais / Reuters)
MICHAEL BENNET
Who is he?
The Coloradan was appointed to the Senate in 2009 and has since won reelection twice.
Is he running?
No. Bennet announced his campaign on May 2, 2019, but dropped out on February 11, 2020, following the New Hampshire primary.
Why did he want to run?
Bennet presented himself as someone with experience in business and management who knows how to work with Republicans.
Who wanted him to run?
James Carville. Bennet also gained new fans with a viral video of his impassioned rant about Ted Cruz during the January 2019 government shutdown.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
(KC McGinnis / Reuters)
JOHN DELANEY
Who is he?
A former four-term congressman from Maryland, he might be even less known than Pete Buttigieg, who at least has a memorable name.
Is he running?
No. Delaney announced way back in June 2017, hoping that a head start could make up for his lack of name recognition, but dropped out on January 31, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
Delaney, a successful businessman, pitched himself as a centrist problem-solver.
Who wanted him to run?
Unclear. He all but moved to Iowa in hopes of locking up the first caucus state, but didn’t even crack 1 percent in a recent Des Moines Register poll.
Could he have won the nomination?
Nah.
(Joshua Roberts / Reuters)
CORY BOOKER
Who is he?
A senator from New Jersey, he was previously the social-media-savvy mayor of Newark.
Is he running?
No. He launched his campaign on February 1, 2019, but dropped out on January 13, 2020.
Why did he want to run?
Once a leading moderate, Booker has been big on criminal-justice reform, including marijuana liberalization in the Senate. He also embraced progressive ideas, including Medicare for All and some sort of universal nest egg for children.
Who wanted him to run?
Not nearly enough voters. He aimed for Obama-style uplift and inspiration to attract voters, but was edged out by other candidates on both sides.
Could he have won the nomination?
Not this year.
(Amy Harris / Invision / AP)
MARIANNE WILLIAMSON
Who is she?
If you don’t know the inspirational author and speaker, you know her aphorisms (e.g., “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”).
Is she running?
No. She announced her candidacy on January 28, 2019, but left the race on January 10, 2020.
Why did she want to run?
It’s a little tough to say. She wrote on her website, “My campaign for the presidency is dedicated to this search for higher wisdom.” She criticized Hillary Clinton for coziness with corporate interests in 2016, and she ran for the U.S. House in 2014.
Who wanted her to run?
Williamson has a lot of fans, but whether they really wanted her as president was another question.
Could she have won the nomination?
Stranger things have happened, but no.
(DEPartment of Housing & Urban Development)
JULIÁN CASTRO
Who is he?
Castro was the mayor of San Antonio, Texas, before serving as secretary of housing and urban development under Barack Obama from 2014 to 2017.
Is he running?
No. He announced his bid on January 12, 2019, in San Antonio, but dropped out on January 2, 2020, and endorsed Elizabeth Warren four days later.
Why did he want to run?
Castro began the career searching for an Obama-style message, but evolved into a more aggressive, left-wing candidate, especially on immigration and police reform.
Who wanted him to run?
Castro attracted a small but passionate following.
Could he have won the nomination?
No. “I am not a front-runner in this race, but I have not been a front-runner at any time in my life,” Castro said during his announcement.
What else do we know?
Castro’s twin brother, Joaquin, who serves in the U.S. House, once subbed in for his brother in a parade during Julián’s mayoral campaign, so if you go to a campaign event, ask for proof that it’s really him.
(Dimitrios Kambouris)
KAMALA HARRIS
Who is she?
Harris, a first-term senator from California, was elected in 2016. She was previously the state’s attorney general.
Is she running?
No. She declared her candidacy on January 21, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, but ended her campaign on December 3, 2019.
Why did she want to run?
Harris thought that a woman of color who is an ex-prosecutor would check a range of boxes for Democratic voters. She tried to stake out a broad platform, trying to appeal to a wide swath of the party, but ended up without a clear identity.
Who wanted her to run?
Harris briefly became the great hope for Democrats who weren’t strong lefties but worried about Biden. But she was unable to maintain and build her momentum, and she sank from third in the race to the single digits.
Could she have won the nomination?
Perhaps with a different campaign approach Harris would have had good luck—and she’s young enough that she may have another shot. But she didn’t have the right stuff for 2020.
(Matthew Brown / AP)
STEVE BULLOCK
Who is he?
Bullock is the governor of Montana, where he won reelection in 2016 even as Trump won the state.
Is he running?
No. Bullock launched his campaign on May 14 but withdrew on December 2, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
Bullock portrayed himself as a candidate who could win in Trump country and get things done across the aisle. He’s also been an outspoken advocate of campaign-finance reform.
Who wanted him to run?
Unclear. The Great Plains and Mountain West aren’t traditional bases for national Democrats.
Could he have won the nomination?
Nope.
(matt rourke / ap)
JOE SESTAK
Who is he?
A former vice admiral and two-term member of Congress from Pennsylvania, he twice ran for U.S. Senate.
Is he running?
No. He announced on June 23 but bowed out on December 1, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
Sestak’s announcement focused on his long career in the military and the importance of American foreign policy. It was a little evocative of retired General Wesley Clark’s 2004 campaign.
Who wanted him to run?
It’s a mystery. Sestak said he delayed a campaign launch while his daughter was treated for cancer, which is praiseworthy, but there wasn’t even a murmur about him running before his announcement. Sestak is best known these days for losing Senate races in 2010 (in the general election) and 2016 (in the Democratic primary).
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
This logo, boy, I dunno.
(City of Miramar, FLorida)
WAYNE MESSAM
Who is he?
Many people thought a young black mayor from Florida would run in 2020. They just thought it would be Tallahassee’s Andrew Gillum, not Miramar’s Wayne Messam, who was elected in 2015.
Is he running?
No. Messam announced his candidacy on March 28 but dropped out—having never showed much sign of a campaign—on November 20, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
He had a lot of standard rhetoric about the fading American dream. “The promise of America belongs to all of us,” Messam said in his announcement video. “That’s why I’m going to be running for president. To be your champion.”
Who wanted him to run?
Bueller?
Could he have won?
Sure, Messam won a national championship as a wide receiver for the 1993 Florida State Seminoles. The presidency? Um, no.
(Kathy Willens / AP)
BETO O’ROURKE
Who is he?
The man, the myth, the legend, the former U.S. representative from El Paso and Democratic candidate for Senate in Texas.
Is he running?
No. O’Rourke dropped out on November 1, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
O’Rourke struggled to figure that out. After the August El Paso massacre, he announced a new approach of attacking the Trump presidency head-on.
Who wanted him to run?
A lot of live-stream watchers and thirsty tweeters, a coterie of ex–Obama aides, and a bunch of operatives running the Draft Beto campaign.
Could he have won the nomination?
No. After a fast start, O’Rourke never regained the momentum of his announcement.
What else do we know?
This video is very important.
(Jonathan Bachman / Reuters)
TIM RYAN
Who is he?
The Ohioan is a member of the House, representing Youngstown and America’s greatest city, Akron.
Is he running?
No. Ryan jumped in the race in April 2019 but dropped out on October 24, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
Ryan is a classic Rust Belt Democrat and friend of labor, and he’s concerned about the fate of manufacturing. He is also an outspoken critic of Democratic leadership, mounting a quixotic challenge to Nancy Pelosi in 2016.
Who wanted him to run?
Ryan had some support in the Rust Belt, but never managed to grow his national profile or support.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
He’s big on meditation.
(Mike Segar / Reuters)
BILL DE BLASIO
Who is he?
The mayor of New York City.
Is he running?
No. He dropped out of the race on September 20, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
De Blasio was the harbinger of the Democratic Party’s leftward shift on economic issues, and they’d be at the center of his campaign, though the movement seems to have left him behind.
Who wanted him to run?
Practically no one. By the time he dropped out, de Blasio was polling at 0 percent even in New York.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
De Blasio was the tallest candidate since Bill Bradley, in 2000. Both men are 6 foot 5.
(mary Altaffer / AP)
KIRSTEN GILLIBRAND
Who is she?
Gillibrand has been a senator from New York since 2009, replacing Hillary Clinton. Before that, she served in the U.S. House.
Is she running?
No. Gillibrand dropped out of the race on August 28, 2019, after failing to qualify for the third debate. She had launched her campaign officially on March 17.
Why did she want to run?
Gillibrand emphasized women’s issues, ranging from sexual harassment in the military and more recent #MeToo stories to equal pay, and her role as a mom is central in her announcement video. Once a fairly conservative Democrat, she has moved left in recent years.
Who wanted her to run?
Vanishingly few voters. While Gillibrand entered the race as a big name, she struggled to gain the polling or donors needed to stay in debates, much less make a play for the nomination.
Could she have won the nomination?
Nope.
What else do we know?
Just like you, she hated the Game of Thrones finale and is mad online about it.
(Brian Snyder / Reuters)
SETH MOULTON
Who is he?
A third-term congressman from Massachusetts, Moulton graduated from Harvard, then served in the Marines in Iraq.
Is he running?
No. Moulton, who announced his campaign on April 22, 2019, left the race on August 23.
Why did he want to run?
In an interview with BuzzFeed, he said he felt the Democratic Party needs younger leaders and, alluding to his military career, “someone … for whom standing up to a bully like Donald Trump isn’t the biggest challenge he or she has ever faced in life.”
Who wanted him to run?
Almost no one. Moulton never gained much attraction, and some polls found him polling at precisely zero.
Could he have won?
No.
(Mary Schwalm / AP)
JAY INSLEE
Who is he?
Inslee is a second-term governor of Washington, and was previously in the U.S. House.
Is he running?
No. Inslee announced on August 21, 2019, that he was ending his campaign.
Why did he want to run?
Climate change. That’s been Inslee’s big issue as governor, and it will be at the center of his campaign for president, too.
Who wanted him to run?
Inslee generated excitement from climate activists, but never gained enough attention from the broad Democratic electorate to gain traction.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
(Lawrence Bryant / REuters)
STACEY ABRAMS
Who is she?
Abrams ran unsuccessfully for governor of Georgia in 2018 and was previously the Democratic leader in the state House.
Is she running?
No. Abrams will instead focus on advocating against voter suppression, The New York Times reported on August 13, 2019. She’s likely to be mentioned as a running mate for the eventual nominee, too.
Why did she want to run?
Throughout her career, Abrams has focused on bread-and-butter issues such as criminal-justice reform and education, and since losing a 2018 election stained by problems with ballot access, she’s made voting rights a special focus.
Who wanted her to run?
Abrams has drawn excitement from young Democrats, the liberal wing of the party, and African Americans. Her rebuttal to President Trump’s 2019 State of the Union address won her new fans, and the former Obama aide Dan Pfeiffer says she should run.
Could she have won?
No.
(Department of Labor)
JOHN HICKENLOOPER
Who is he?
Hickenlooper was the governor of Colorado until January, and previously held the most Colorado trifecta of jobs imaginable: mayor of Denver, geologist, and brewery owner.
Is he running?
No. Hickenlooper is leaving the race on August 15, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
Hickenlooper branded himself as an effective manager and deal maker who has governed effectively in a purple state while still staying progressive. He said he worried the Democratic field could be too focused on grievance and not enough on policy.
Who wanted him to run?
Not nearly enough people. Hickenlooper was never able to get out of the low single digits in polling, and was at precisely zero in one late poll.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
(Alex Wong / Getty)
MIKE GRAVEL
Who is he?
Gravel, 89, represented Alaska for two terms in the Senate, during which he read the Pentagon Papers into the Congressional Record and fought against the Vietnam War. These days he’s probably better known for his 2008 presidential campaign.
Is he running?
No. After launching on April 8, 2019, his campaign announced it was ending on August 5, and Gravel has endorsed Bernie Sanders.
Why did he want to run?
Gravel was running to bring attention to his pet issues: direct democracy, nuclear nonproliferation, and a noninterventionist foreign policy.
Who wanted him to run?
This is where it gets weird. The committee is the brainchild of three students in college and high school who have basically created a Draft Gravel movement. But Gravel decided he liked the idea and went along with it.
Could he have won the nomination?
No. He initially said he didn’t even want to, though his campaign—worried it might be disqualified for Democratic debates—then said he was running for real. He didn't qualify anyway.
What else do we know?
Gravel produced the greatest presidential spot this side of the “Daisy” ad—and then he remade it this cycle.
(J. Scott Applewhite / AP)
ERIC SWALWELL
Who is he?
Swalwell, who is 38, is a U.S. representative from California’s Bay Area.
Is he running?
No. Swalwell left the race on July 8, 2019, exactly three months after he announced his candidacy on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.
Why did he want to run?
Swalwell was running on a gun-control platform. He also says the Democratic Party needs fresh blood. “We can’t count on the same old leaders to solve the same old problems,” he told The Mercury News. “It’s going to take new energy and new ideas and a new confidence to do that.”
Who wanted him to run?
Not nearly enough people. Swalwell never busted through the 1 percent threshold.
Can he have won the nomination?
Clearly not.
(Phil Long / Reuters)
SHERROD BROWN
Who is he?
By statute, I am required to mention the senator from Ohio’s tousled hair, rumpled appearance, and gravelly voice.
Is he running?
No. Brown told the Youngstown Vindicator on March 7, 2019, that he will not run.
Why did he want to run?
Brown’s campaign would have focused on workers and inequality. He’s somewhat akin to Bernie Sanders, but his progressivism is of the midwestern, organized-labor variety.
Who wanted him to run?
Leftist Democrats who though Sanders is too old and Elizabeth Warren too weak a candidate; lots of dudes in union halls in Northeast Ohio.
Could he have won the nomination?
Possibly.
What else do we know?
Like Warren, Brown has a very good dog.
(Mark Tenally / AP)
TERRY MCAULIFFE
Who is he?
Once known primarily as a close friend of Bill Clinton’s and a Democratic fundraising prodigy, McAuliffe reinvented himself as the governor of Virginia from 2014 to 2018.
Is he running?
No. McAuliffe said April 17, 2019, he wouldn’t compete.
Why did he want to run?
McAuliffe holds up his governorship as proof that he can be a problem solver and deal maker across the aisle, and his Clintonesque politics would have contrasted him with many of the candidates in the field.
Who wanted him to run?
McAuliffe himself concluded he just didn’t have a big enough constituency in the wide Democratic field.
Could he have won the nomination?
Probably not.
(Yuri Gripas / Reuters)
ERIC HOLDER
Who is he?
Holder was the U.S. attorney general from 2009 to 2015, and he’s currently leading a Democratic redistricting initiative with help from some retiree named Barack Obama.
Is he running?
No. After toying with the idea, he wrote in The Washington Post on March 7, 2019, that he would not run.
Why did he want to run?
Holder has three big areas of interest: redistricting, civil rights, and beating Donald Trump by all means necessary.
Who wanted him to run?
Tough to say. Obamaworld isn’t really lining up behind him, and he’s never held elected office, despite a successful Washington career.
Could he have won the nomination?
Probably not.
(Faith Ninivaggi / Reuters)
MITCH LANDRIEU
Who is he?
Landrieu served as the mayor of New Orleans from 2010 to 2018. He was previously Louisiana’s lieutenant governor.
Is he running?
It seems unlikely. “Probably not, but if I change my mind, you’re going to be the first to know,” he told the New York Times editor Dean Baquet in December.
Why did he want to run?
Like the other mayors contemplating a run, Landrieu considers himself a problem-solver. He’s also become a campaigner for racial reconciliation, taking down Confederate monuments in New Orleans, and staking a claim for progressivism in the Deep South.
Who wanted him to run?
Not clear.
Could he have won the nomination?
Probably not.
(Jeenah Moon / Reuters)
ANDREW CUOMO
Who is he?
Cuomo is the governor of New York. He was formerly the secretary of housing and urban development under Bill Clinton.
Is he running?
No. Though he's long toyed with the idea, Cuomo said in November 2018, "I am ruling it out." Then again, his father was indecisive about running for president, too.
Why did he want to run?
One can adopt a Freudian analysis related to his father's unfinished business, or one can note that Cuomo thinks he's got more management experience and success, including working with Republicans, than any Democratic candidate.
Who wanted him to run?
Practically no one. Cuomo's defenders bristle that he doesn't get enough credit, but his work with Republicans has infuriated Empire State Democrats without winning any real GOP friends.
Could he have won the nomination?
No.
(Yuri Gripas / Reuters)
ERIC GARCETTI
Who is he?
Garcetti is the mayor of Los Angeles.
Is he running?
No. Garcetti flirted with the idea, visiting South Carolina and naming a hypothetical Cabinet full of mayors, but said on January 29, 2020, that he would not run.
Why did he want to run?
Garcetti’s pitch was that mayors actually get things done and that his lack of experience in Washington was a positive.
Who wanted him to run?
Garcetti was reelected in a landslide in 2017, but he had no apparent national constituency.
Could he have won the nomination?
Doubtful.
(Andrew Harnik / AP)
HILLARY CLINTON
Who is she?
Come on.
Is she running?
No, she announced on March 4, 2019, that she wouldn’t. But until she issues a Shermanesque denial signed in blood—or the filing deadline passes—the rumors probably won’t die.
Why does she want to run?
She doesn’t.
Who wants her to run?
Pundits, mostly.
Can she win the nomination?
See above.
(Mike Blake / Reuters)
MICHAEL AVENATTI
Who is he?
Formerly Stormy Daniels’s lawyer, he’s now facing a dizzying array of federal charges.
Is he running?
Haha, no way. He now says he might once again, but he won’t. And if he does, it won’t matter.
Why did he want to run?
Attention, power, self-aggrandizement
Who wanted him to run?
Some very loud, very devoted fans.
Could he have won the nomination?
No, and his comment to Time that the nominee “better be a white male” was the final straw.
REPUBLICANS
(Leah Millis / Reuters)
DONALD TRUMP
Who is he?
Really?
Fine. Is he running?
Yes. He filed for reelection the day of his inauguration.
Why does he want to run?
Build the wall, Keep America Great, etc.
Who wants him to run?
Consistently about 35 to 40 percent of the country; a small majority consistently says he should not.
Can he win the nomination?
Yes. While his low approval ratings overall have stoked talk of a primary challenge, Trump remains very popular among Republican voters, and as president has broad power to muscle the GOP process to protect himself.
What else do we know?
You may have heard that in December 2019 he became the third president to ever be impeached.
(Stephan Savoia / AP)
WILLIAM WELD
Who is he?
Weld, a former Justice Department official, was the governor of Massachusetts from 1991 to 1997 and was the Libertarian Party’s vice-presidential nominee in 2016.
Is he running?
He dropped out on March 18, 2020, after Trump effectively clinched renomination.
Why did he run?
Calling President Trump “unstable,” Weld has said, “I think our country is in grave peril and I cannot sit any longer quietly on the sidelines.”
Who wanted him to run?
Weld always inspired respect from certain quarters, and the 2016 Libertarian ticket did well by the party’s standards, but Weld’s unorthodox politics and hot-and-cold relationship with the GOP probably didn’t help his support.
Can he win the nomination?
No.
What else do we know?
This logo is so cool.
(Carolyn Kaster / AP)
JOE WALSH
Who is he?
After a strong run in the James Gang, Walsh joined the Eagles as lead guitari—wait, no, wrong guy. This Joe Walsh was a Tea Party congressman from Illinois from 2011 to 2013.
Is he running?
No. Walsh said on August 24, 2019, that he would run against Trump, but dropped out on February 7 after drawing just 1 percent in the Iowa caucus.
Why was he running?
Once a strong Trump backer, Walsh has undergone a strange political transformation over the past three years and now routinely attacks Trump, whom he sees as insufficiently conservative and too deferential to Russia.
Who wanted him to run?
Clearly, not many people. The tireless but hapless Bill Kristol encouraged Walsh to run, but that was about it, based on a February Twitter thread in which he said that he had “that my Republican Party isn’t a Party, it’s a cult.”
Could he have won the nomination?
Absolutely not.
(Kevin Lamarque / Reuters)
MARK SANFORD
Who is he?
Sanford was governor of South Carolina from 2003 to 2011 and a U.S. representative from 1995 to 2001 and 2013 to 2019.
Is he running?
No. Sanford announced his campaign launch on September 8, 2019 but suspended it on November 12.
Why was he running?
Sanford has been an outspoken critic of Donald Trump. “I think we have to have a conversation about what it means to be a Republican,” Sanford said on Fox News Sunday, adding that the GOP “has lost our way.”
Who wanted him to run?
Lots of reporters who are eager to make bad Appalachian Trail jokes. There must have been some Never Trump fiscal conservatives who didn’t want Trump but wouldn’t vote for Weld. Not many, though.
Could he have won the nomination?
No. “I don’t think on the Republican side there’s any appetite for a serious nuanced debate with impeachment in the air,” he said as he left the race.
(Elizabeth Frantz / Reuters)
JOHN KASICH
Who is he?
Kasich recently finished up two terms as governor of Ohio, previously served in the U.S. House, and ran in the 2016 GOP primary.
Is he running?
No, and it seems he won’t. “There is no path right now for me. I don’t see a way to get there,” he said May 30, 2019. “I’ve never gotten involved in a political race where I didn’t think I could win.”
Why did he want to run?
Kasich has long wanted to be president—he ran, quixotically, in 2000. But Kasich has styled himself as a vocal Trump critic, and sees himself as an alternative to the president who is both truer to conservative principles and more reliable and moral.
Who wanted him to run?
Maybe some dead-end Never Trump conservatives. It’s tough to say.
Could he have won the nomination?
Even he doesn’t think so. Kasich previously ruled out an independent or third-party run, but has since reopened that door.
What else do we know?
John Kasich bought a Roots CD and hated it so much, he threw it out his car window. John Kasich hated the Coen brothers’ classic Fargo so much, he tried to get his local Blockbuster to quit renting it. George Will laughed at him. John Kasich is the Bill Brasky of philistinism, but John Kasich probably hated that skit, too.
(Patrick Semansky / AP)
LARRY HOGAN
Who is he?
In November, Hogan became the first Republican to be reelected as governor of Maryland since 1954.
Is he running?
No. After some flirtation, he ruled out a run on June 1, 2019.
Why did he want to run?
Hogan is a pragmatic, moderate Republican who has won widespread acclaim in a solidly Democratic state—in other words, everything Trump is not.
Who wanted him to run?
Never Trump conservatives; whatever the Republican equivalent of a “good government” type is.
Could he have won the nomination?
As long as Trump was running, no.
(Official Senate PhotO)
JEFF FLAKE
Who is he?
The Arizonan, a former U.S. House member, decided not to run for reelection to the Senate in 2019.
Is he running?
No. When he took a contributor role with CBS on January 23, 2019, he said he was not running.
Why did he want to run?
Starting in 2016, Flake was perhaps Trump’s most outspoken critic among elected Republicans, lambasting the president as immoral, unserious, and unconservative.
Who wanted him to run?
Liberal pundits.
Could he have won the nomination?
No. Flake retired because he didn’t even think he could win the Republican Senate nomination.
THIRD PARTIES AND INDEPENDENTS
Public domain
JO JORGENSEN
Who is she?
An activist, a psychologist, and a businesswoman from South Carolina, Jorgensen was the Libertarian Party’s vice-presidential nominee in 1996 and ran for Congress in 1992.
Is he running?
Following Justin Amash’s exit from the race, Jorgensen locked up the Libertarian nomination for 2020.
Why does she want to run?
Jorgensen’s platform is mostly standard Libertarian views: against big federal programs, against mass incarceration, against foreign military operations. She has also said, “It is not enough to be passively not racist; we must be actively anti-racist.”
Who wants her to run?
Libertarians.
What else do we know?
Since she’s the highest-profile woman in the presidential race, Jorgensen has borrowed Hillary Clinton’s 2016 slogan, “I’m with her.” Her running mate, Spike Cohen, previously ran for the LP nod promising a Waffle House on every corner, and if that’s not a winning platform, what has gone wrong in this country?
Getty
HOWIE HAWKINS
Who is he?
A Green Party founder and longtime environmental activist, Hawkins ran for New York governor as a Green in 2010, 2014, and 2018. He did not win.
Is he running?
Yes. On July 11, Hawkins was officially named the Green Party nominee. He’s also the Socialist Party USA nominee.
Why does he want to run?
Hawkins’s platform includes some familiar Green and progressive priorities: Green New Deal, Medicaid for All, and a guaranteed minimum income.
Who wants him to run?
Greens and Socialists.
What else do we know?
“H’20” is a truly great pun, especially for a Green Party nominee.
Lexi Browning / Reuters
DON BLANKENSHIP
Who is he?
The former CEO of the coal company Massey Energy, Blankenship was convicted of conspiracy to violate mine-safety laws over an explosion that killed 29 miners in 2010. He ran for U.S. Senate in West Virginia in 2018.
Is he running?
Yes. Blankenship announced on November 11 that he’s running for the Constitution Party’s nomination, and won the nomination in May.
Why does he want to run?
Blankenship is billing himself as a man who can actually do what Trump promised. The men share many political views as well as a general coarseness and bigotry. “President Trump means well, but he simply cannot get it done because he is too busy mending his self-inflicted wounds and tripping over his ego,” Blankenship said in a statement.
Who wants him to run?
Beats us. For what it’s worth, it took two ballots for him to win the Constitution nod.
(OFFICE OF JUSTIN AMASH)
JUSTIN AMASH
Who is he?
Amash has represented a Grand Rapids, Michigan-area seat in the U.S. House since 2011.
Is he running?
No. On April 28, 2020, Amash announced an exploratory committee to run for president on the Libertarian Party ticket, but he decided against a run on May 16.
Why did he want to run?
Amash has cut a path as a strong libertarian in the House, especially in recent months as a critic of President Trump. On July 4, he announced he was leaving the Republican Party, feeding presidential speculation.
Who wanted him to run?
Libertarians, duh. “There’s a lot of people who consider Amash to be the best congressman from the perspective of a libertarian,” Libertarian Party Chairman Nicholas Sarwark told MLive. “They think he’s the best congressman for our goals since Ron Paul.”
Could he have won the nomination?
Probably.
Gary Cameron / Reuters
LINCOLN CHAFEE
Who is he?
The failson scion of a Rhode Island Republican family, Chafee served in the Senate as a Republican (1999–2007); as governor, as an independent and then a Democrat (2011–15); and then ran for president as a Democrat in 2016.
Is he running?
No. He filed papers to run for the Libertarian Party nomination on January 5, but dropped out on April 7.
Why did he want to run?
It’s time to go metric, baby.
Who wanted him to run?
¯\ _(ツ)_/¯
Could he have won the nomination?
Given that he dropped his bid even without any serious rivals in the race, apparently not.
(JASON REDMOND / Reuters)
HOWARD SCHULTZ
Who is he?
That guy who used to sell you over-roasted coffee. Schultz stepped down as CEO of Starbucks in 2018.
Is he running?
No. Schultz officially ruled out a run on September 6, roughly four months after laying off most of his staff and announcing he’d take the summer off due to health problems. “I have concluded that an independent campaign for the White House is not how I can best serve our country at this time,” he wrote in a message.
Why did he want to run?
Personal pique over Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s support for a 70 percent marginal tax rate. No, seriously. Schultz has offered some vague platitudes about centrist ideas and bringing the country together, but most of it aligns with standard Democratic positions.
Who wanted him to run?
Donald Trump.
Can he have won the nomination?
The great thing about being a billionaire self-funder as an independent is that you don’t have to win a nomination. The downside is that you still have to win votes eventually.
(Darrin Zammit Lupi / Reuters)
JOHN MCAFEE
Who is he?
He’s the guy who made your antivirus program turned international fugitive turned unsuccessful 2016 Libertarian presidential candidate. A typical politician, basically.
Is he running?
He says he’s going to either vie for the Libertarian nomination again or run as an independent, though it’s probably worth regarding what he says with some skepticism.
Why does he want to run?
To promote cryptocurrency, brah. “See, I don’t want to be president,” he told a crypto trade publication in November 2018. “I couldn’t be … no one’s going to elect me president, please God. However, I’ve got the right to run.”
Who wants him to run?
Rubberneckers, disaster enthusiasts.
Can he win the nomination?
“No one’s going to elect me president, please God.”
What else do we know?
You want to see what it’s like as the opposite sex for three hours? What being kissed by God feels like? You want the infinite experience of freedom? Knowledge of yourself? Eroticism that incinerates you? A simple good time? Forgetfulness? He’s your man.