Bloomberg's influence takes a hit in voter rebuffs
This article originally appeared on RealClearPolitics.
NEW YORK
For billionaire New York City Mayor Mike Bloomberg, throwing away $350,000 is equivalent to most Americans dropping loose change between the sofa cushions.
But the concern for Bloomberg is not the amount of money he personally invested in the effort to save the seats of two Colorado state senators -- an effort that failed when both were ousted from office Tuesday by voters apparently displeased with their roles in passing gun control legislation.
Instead, the overriding worry for the 71-year-old mayor is that the defeats seem to underscore his increasing inability to nationally impact the public policy issues he's most involved with.
On the heels of his failed $12 million effort to implement stronger gun laws on the national level -- a crusade that some observers have said harmed efforts to pass background-check legislation -- Bloomberg has become a favorite punching bag for the NRA and other small-government advocates, who have singled him out as an enemy of personal freedom.
And back home in New York City, there was further evidence this week of his apparently waning influence.
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Though Bloomberg's job approval rating remains at respectable levels citywide, Democratic primary voters on Tuesday awarded a sweeping victory to Public Advocate Bill de Blasio, whose rapid rise in the race was predicated largely on presenting himself as the most anti-Bloomberg candidate in the field.
With less than four months remaining in his tenure at City Hall, and no indication that he has plans to ride off into the sunset anytime soon, the three-term mayor is facing a difficult prospect: He is a wealthy man with grand ambitions for shaping the nation's priorities on issues ranging from guns to immigration, but has a questionable ability to do so.
While New Yorkers have a long history of rewarding strong leaders with outsized personalities, the rest of the country may be less enamored of such an aggressive style, one that seems rooted in an attitude of "I know what's best for you."
"Part of the problem with Bloomberg is that politically he's had a difficult time speaking to the public on their level," said Jeanne Zaino, a professor of campaign management and political communication at NYU. "There's a way in which his money can be very helpful, but it has to be done artfully and in a way that understands the local culture and views of outsiders, and he doesn't seem to have mastered that. There's a 'real person' sense that seems to be missing."
A legendary workaholic in a city full of them, Bloomberg has left an indelible mark during his 12 years in office. A Republican, he did not get elected three times in this heavily Democratic city by accident.
But despite a reputation for competent leadership on issues ranging from crime-fighting to economic development, Bloomberg's sweeping public health initiatives have made him the personification of the "nanny state" both in and out of New York.
In some instances, that perception is generally regarded positively. Mounting an effort to reverse his groundbreaking 2003 initiative to ban smoking in bars and restaurants, for example, has become unthinkable.
But Bloomberg's more recent attempt to ban the sale of sugary drinks larger than 16 ounces is the highest-profile example of this perceived overreach; in fact, the issue was fodder for late-night comedians and Tea Party rallies.
Eager to avoid being seen as a "professional politician," Bloomberg has always exuded a bluntness this is both a cornerstone of his appeal and a glaring example of his weaknesses as a communicator.
In an interview with New York Magazine, which was published just before Tuesday's primary, it was the latter.
In the interview, Bloomberg characterized de Blasio as running a "racist" campaign -- an ill-advised reference to the candidate featuring his biracial son in campaign ads; Bloomberg's remark served only to solidify the Democratic frontrunner's partisan support and boost perceptions that the current mayor had become politically tone deaf.
Though large swaths of the country may still yearn for his brand of centrism, negative perceptions of Bloomberg's heavy-handedness have apparently limited his appeal, especially among the very people who should compose his political base: non-partisans fed up with the Washington establishment.
"He had the potential to be much more influential as a voice of independents, pre-2008 financial meltdown," said New York-based Democratic strategist Dan Gerstein, a self-described fan of the mayor. "And I think he missed his moment because now, anyone who comes from the financial elite and has such strong ties to Wall Street is going to be compromised in the eyes of many."
Politically vulnerable Democrats in red states who earned Bloomberg's ire on the gun issue are wearing the New Yorker's antipathy as a badge of honor as they embark on difficult re-election campaigns in 2014.
"A New York mayor telling an Alaska senator what to do? Alaskans will reject that big time," Alaska Sen. Mark Begich told The Huffington Post after Bloomberg had urged donors to withhold contributions to the Democrat, whose seat is up next year.
And in Arkansas, Sen. Mark Pryor -- another of the most vulnerable Democrats in next year's midterms -- took a direct shot at Bloomberg in his re-election effort's first TV ad. He was returning fire after the New Yorker launched ads of his own attacking Pryor's opposition to gun control legislation.
"I'm Mark Pryor, and I approve this message because no one from New York or Washington tells me what to do," the two-term lawmaker said in the TV spot.
Despite his recent struggles, Bloomberg has shown an ability over the years to defy anyone who underestimates him and to set a course on policy that others eventually come around to, rather than being guided by the fickle political winds of the moment.
And in addition, money always talks in politics, and the business magnate has no shortage of that.
GOP strategist Mark McKinnon, a co-founder of the centrist group No Labels, warned against reading too much into this week's results in Colorado, noting that Colorado Springs and Pueblo -- where the two state senators were recalled -- are difficult places for pro-gun-control legislators to survive.
"Team Bloomberg just got out-gunned on this one," he said of the Colorado effort. "...And after three terms of Jesus Christ, New York would have elected Pontius Pilate just for something new and different."
It may indeed be understandable that New Yorkers are eager to try something new after a dozen years under one mayor.
But for much of the rest of the country, even a glimpse of Bloomberg may be enough to turn the other way.
