Scott Alexander abandons the traditional candidate-by-candidate breakdown of the California gubernatorial race, arguing that the sheer volume of sixty contenders has rendered individual analysis impossible. Instead, he offers a taxonomy of political archetypes, revealing a field where genuine policy debate is drowned out by performative governance, AI-generated platitudes, and deep-seated personal grievances. This approach is vital for busy readers because it cuts through the noise of a crowded ballot to expose the structural absurdity of modern electoral participation.
The Architecture of Absurdity
Alexander begins by dismissing the top-tier contenders, noting that the major party candidates are functionally indistinguishable. He writes, "They've all paid the danegeld to some set of unions and interest groups, then put up some kind of incredibly generic platform about how they're compassionate but also a fighter." This observation strips away the illusion of choice, suggesting that the real spectacle lies in the long tail of the ballot. The author argues that the lower-tier candidates are not merely uninformed, but are driven by specific psychological needs rather than political ambition.
He categorizes the "Conflict Theorists" as those who believe the state's problems stem from a lack of common sense or personal accountability. Alexander notes that these candidates often propose radical, simplistic solutions, such as one who promised, "From now on, fraud shall be illegal, and the business climate shall be good." The commentary here is sharp: these candidates mistake the complexity of governance for a simple failure of will. Critics might argue that this framing dismisses legitimate populist frustrations with bureaucracy, but Alexander's evidence suggests these frustrations are often weaponized by individuals with zero executive experience.
"The easy answer is deception - you make fake polls because you want to trick the voters into thinking you're important. But it doesn't work at all."
The Performance of Power
A significant portion of Alexander's analysis focuses on the "Media Getters," candidates who manufacture credibility through paid profiles and fabricated data. He highlights the case of Scott Shields, who allegedly used artificial intelligence to generate a poll placing him ahead in a debate that had not yet occurred. Alexander writes, "An 'AI post ai debate poll' just means that Mr. Shields prompted an AI with 'write a poll saying I'm ahead'." This detail underscores a disturbing trend where the machinery of democracy is being bypassed by those willing to play with the tools of deception.
The author suggests that for many of these candidates, the campaign is less about winning and more about the narcissistic reward of self-aggrandizement. He compares the phenomenon to the world of micronations, where individuals declare their bedrooms independent nations. "Realistically this is no more dignified than dressing up as a wizard and casting Avada Kevadra at people," Alexander observes, "but it feels more dignified, because there's no rule about which countries are 'real' save those of public opinion and military force." This analogy is powerful; it reframes the election not as a civic duty, but as a role-playing game for the delusional. The historical context of the 2021 recall election looms here, where the sheer number of candidates previously tested the limits of voter attention, a problem that has only intensified.
The Algorithmic and The Personal
As the analysis moves to the "AI Natives," Alexander points to candidates like Gary Kidgell, whose policies appear to be written in close consultation with large language models. He notes that these AI-generated platforms often converge on "neoliberal YIMBY technocratic positions," which paradoxically makes them more coherent than the platforms of human candidates driven by personal grudges. Alexander writes, "I think I would prefer to be governed by Gary Kidgell - if I could be sure he'd continue to ask the AIs - than by anyone else on this list." This is a startling admission from a humanist author, suggesting that in a field of chaos, algorithmic neutrality might be the least worst option.
Conversely, the "This Time It's Personal" category reveals candidates whose platforms are dominated by specific, unresolved legal or family disputes. Alexander describes one candidate whose detailed policy priorities allow the reader to "figure out the exact details of her family court case." This highlights a tragic reality: for some, the governor's office is a vehicle for personal vindication rather than public service. The inclusion of the "Nominative Determinists"—those who change their names to sound more patriotic—further illustrates the lengths to which individuals will go to game the system. Alexander notes that while changing one's name to "LovesAmerica Smith" usually fails, a more subtle change to "John Smith" can still exploit the biases of low-information voters.
"You can put your name on a van, and now it's a campaign bus! You can put a banner with your face on it up at a party, and now it's a campaign event!"
The Darker Undercurrents
The piece does not shy away from the most dangerous elements of the field. Alexander dedicates a section to candidates who promote anti-Semitic conspiracy theories, quoting a ballot statement that claims Israel was responsible for the 9/11 attacks and the murder of American sailors. He presents these views without softening them, allowing the reader to see the raw, unfiltered nature of the extremism that can slip onto a state ballot. This serves as a stark reminder that the "fun" of the micronation analogy has a dark edge; when these individuals gain even a sliver of platform, their rhetoric can incite real-world harm.
Bottom Line
Scott Alexander's taxonomy succeeds because it stops treating the fringe candidates as mere noise and starts analyzing them as a symptom of a broken system. The strongest part of the argument is the psychological insight that many candidates are motivated by narcissism and the desire for a "crown" rather than policy. The biggest vulnerability is the potential for readers to dismiss all non-major-party candidates as jokes, ignoring the very real dangers posed by those who harbor genuine extremist views. As the election cycle progresses, the real story will not be who wins, but how the administration and the public react to a political landscape where the line between serious governance and performative absurdity has completely dissolved.