Rae Chen Huang is behaving ridiculously.
Spencer Pratt will send her chocolate and flowers. I will not.
In case you’re not following the upcoming Los Angeles mayoral primary, well, it’s quite the little shit show …
The top two vote getters will advance to the general election in November, making it a coin flip between Karen Bass, the (fairly unpopular) Democratic incumbent, Nithya Raman, a Democratic city council member and activist, and Spencer Pratt, the destructive MAGA idiot best known for, well, this sorta shit …
Wait. One more. There is also Rae Chen Huang, a senior organizer at Housing Now! CA and community organizer.
Ah, Rae Chen Huang …
Against all odds and logic, the little-known Huang is polling at 9 percent, which means she simultaneously has no shot at winning but a solid shot at being the person who propels the legitimately dangerous Pratt toward the general. You see, without Rae Chen Huang in the race, those nine percent votes go almost entirely to either Bass or Raman—all but guaranteeing the general election involves two sane, reasonable public servants who can battle over real issues.
So why won’t Rae Chen Huang, who—again—has 0.00% chance of victory—step aside?
Answer: Ego.
Ego.
Ego.
Ego.
Ego.
Seriously, this kind of shit drives me to drink. You entered the race—great! You put up a fantastic fight—great! You emerged as a potential future star—great! You have enough swagger that the winner might listen to you—great! But what are you accomplishing at this point? What are you adding, besides a boost to Pratt’s odds?
I don’t discuss this much, but once upon a time—nearly two decades ago—I ran for city council in my old hometown of New Rochelle, N.Y. It was a long-shot bid, but I just didn’t love everything the leading Democrat stood for. As the days passed, however, and it was clear my run was toast, I backed out and endorsed Barry Fertel, who wound up winning and doing an excellent job. Simply put, I wanted to help avoid a Pratt-like nightmare. I took the bullet.
Politics are not pretty. They’re petty, sad, gross, dispiriting. Like the 1996 New York Jets, things generally don’t go your way. You lose more than you win; fall more than you sprint.
But, ultimately, they should be about the greater good.
Not about ego.