With time comes perspective—even if, in California, it takes a considerable amount of time to count millions of ballots and wait for final results. But with the Golden State’s statewide primary now a week-plus in the rearview mirror, here are a few takeaways on what the numbers suggest.
To begin, a reminder: despite its reputation as the bluest of “blue” progressive states (three decades of dominating presidential and US Senate races and sweeping most every other state constitutional race will do that), California has a contrarian streak as one looks further down the ballot.
For proof of that, consider the oceanside community of Huntington Beach, aka “Surf City USA” (but only after a trademark dispute with the Northern California town of Santa Cruz).
Four years ago and a just into his new position as California’s 40th governor, Gavin Newsom celebrated the hoisting of a rainbow flag at the State Capitol in celebration of June’s LGBTQ Pride Month. This year, on Primary Day in California, Huntington Beach voters approved a ballot measure banning rainbow Pride flags and other nongovernmental banners on city property.
That wasn’t California’s lone North-South disconnect in the primary. Whereas San Francisco’s voters opted to expand police powers, voters in the state’s most populous county made Los Angeles incumbent George Gascón their top choice for district attorney in a 12-candidate primary field—Gascón the antithesis of a crime hard-liner who advocates ending the death penalty, life-without-parole sentences, and the prosecution of minors as adults.
Although California’s vote tallies aren’t complete, this much seems evident: the Golden State’s electorate in 2024 is blue both philosophically and spiritually—but is not all that enthusiastic about the process. According to California’s secretary of state, only 26% of the state’s 22 million registered voters (all of whom received a ballot in the mail) bothered to participate (that figure changing as ballots continue to be processed). Four years ago in California’s March primary, voter turnout was 47%.
Why the difference? Blame it on little in the way of presidential drama.
Four years ago, about 5.78 million Democrats voted in 2020’s California presidential primary (with Vermont senator Bernie Sanders defeating Joe Biden, then former vice president, by 12 points). In 2024, a virtually uncontested Democratic primary attracted fewer than 2.7 million voters (again, that number will change).
Why this matters: the pending fate of Proposition 1, a $6.38 billion bond to fund housing for homeless individuals by providing mental health care and drug-and-alcohol treatment facilities, which Newsom desperately wants as a legacy item.
At last glimpse (again, the numbers will keep bouncing), Proposition 1 received a shade under 2.73 million “yes” votes, which translates to 50.3% support and a lead of about 31,000 votes. If Democrats turned out in the same numbers as in 2020, the ballot measure likely would have sailed to victory, with Newsom doing a victory lap around the state instead of riding out the vote count.
Then again, Newsom and his political brain trust might have themselves to blame for Proposition 1’s underperformance given that the measure polled at 68% support in early December and 59% last month.
Rather than run a media campaign showcasing front-line mental health professionals or the good that comes from drug and alcohol treatment, the star of Prop 1’s ads was Newsom himself—a curious choice in that: (1) more Californians disapprove than approve of their governor’s job performance (or so this February survey finds); (2) homelessness is an issue California politicians have fumbled for decades—Newsom being one of the culprits as back in December 2003 and speaking as the mayor-elect of San Francisco, he vowed to end the city’s scourge of homelessness in only a decade’s time; and (3) in a low-turnout election in which Republicans play an outsize role, making Newsom the front man for Prop 1 was the equivalent of waving a red flag in the face of a conservative bull that maybe dislikes California’s governor as much or more than the notion of a bond that will cost California taxpayers $310 million a year over the next three decades.
Should Proposition 1 ultimately fail, that makes Newsom the primary’s biggest loser: if he can’t sell a bond at home, where Democrats outnumber Republicans by a 2-to-1 margin, what are his chances of selling ideas (and himself) in less progressive swing states across America as a Democratic presidential nominee?
Otherwise, if you want to play the “winners and losers” game . . .
Let’s go with California’s political consulting class as a primary “winner.” In this year’s Golden State primary , political consultants had a buffet of 60 State Assembly and 20 State Senate races, plus the aforementioned Proposition 1. According to a Capitol Weekly report, consultants in state-level races earned close to $11 million (so far).
That figure doesn’t take into account this year’s US Senate race in California—for only the second time since 1992, a primary didn’t have an incumbent senator on the ballot.
Which takes us to a primary “loser”: Rep. Katie Porter, who finished a distant third among the 27 Democratic, Republican, and third-party candidates sardined together on California’s ballot—in the Golden State, the top two finishers advance to the general election regardless of their partisan affiliation.
Porter’s failure to finish second, falling short by more than 930,000 votes, was bad enough (overall, she received less than 15% of the vote); however, Porter made matters worse by playing a victim card in defeat (“We had the establishment running scared,” Porter posted on social media the day after the primary, withstanding 3 to 1 in TV spending and an onslaught of billionaires spending millions to rig this election”). Her use of the word “rig” triggered fellow Democrats for its Trumpian suggestion of election non-integrity.
And that takes us to a primary winner and loser: Rep. Adam Schiff.
Schiff is a “winner” not only by finishing first in the US Senate primary but also by drawing the candidate he wanted—Republican Steve Garvey—as his November opponent. As a Republican hasn’t won a Senate race in California since 1988 and—in what could be a good year for Republicans in Senate contests—because GOP donors are more likely to invest in swing states (Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin) or red states where Democratic incumbents are struggling (Ohio and Montana), Schiff has what seems to be an easy path to November victory. It’s certainly easier than facing Porter, who likely would have spent the next 230-plus days reminding the female portion of the California electorate that a Schiff win means an end to three decades of a woman occupying at least one of the Golden State’s Senate seats.
But Schiff also falls into the “loser” category in that he employed the same tactic that worked for Newsom back in 2018’s gubernatorial primary: spend millions dumping on a conservative Republican opponent with the cynical intent of elevating the unelectable Republican to the November runoff. The tactic worked for Newsom six years ago (“John Cox stands with Trump and the NRA”); this year, it worked for Schiff (with one ad stating that Garvey “voted for Trump, twice, and supported Republicans for years, including far-right conservatives”).
Such campaigning gives candidates the results they desire and validates consultants’ paydays, but it comes with a cost: the voter who prefers policy debates to polemics has little incentive to hand in their ballot.
Small wonder that maybe the loudest statement in California’s primary was this one made by voters: not bothering to vote.
