The scene: a mayoral forum. Town hall, debate, pancake breakfast — it doesn’t matter which.
First to speak is the incumbent, confident and brash as she brushes aside her critics and proclaims a bright future. Next up, her alpha-gorilla challenger, who in even louder tones lays a litany of lawlessness at the feet of the incumbent.
Then a third candidate takes the mic.
He speaks to the crowd conversationally, his manner professorial. His attacks mostly avoid targeting any single candidate, instead casting them collectively as “City Hall insiders” who have led San Francisco astray.
The style of this candidate, Daniel Lurie, rankles no one. Maybe voters in the ranked-choice election will consider putting the nonprofit CEO and Levi Strauss heir at No. 2, behind one of the more polemical speakers. Maybe No. 3.
Is Lurie too nuanced to boil down to a soundbite? Maybe. Does his style feel a little blah? Sure. Call it what you want, but his strategy of being unobjectionable may just work in a ranked-choice election where being everyone’s second- or third-favorite candidate could count for a lot.
Lurie has demonstrated a chameleon-like ability to appeal to those who may vote for Mayor London Breed, former mayor Mark Farrell, or even Supervisor Aaron Peskin as their first choice, said San Francisco State University politics professor Jason McDaniel.
“Lurie is trying to be inoffensive making vague appeals that don’t necessarily code ideologically moderate or progressive,” McDaniel said.
Bernal Heights activist Buck Bagot has been in and out of San Francisco politics since Dianne Feinstein was mayor. He has endorsed Peskin, who he said “radiates energy.” Bagot casts Lurie’s style another way.
“Boring,” he said. “Lurie is a ghost.”
A new poll shows just how helpful that trait may be. Conducted by FM3 Research and paid for by an independent expenditure committee supporting Lurie, the poll of more than 700 voters shows him behind in first-place votes under the ranked-choice system. But when you tally second-, third-, and fourth-place votes, Lurie is within striking distance of Breed in the final round.
Another finding from the poll underscores Lurie’s noncontroversial appeal.
In what essentially amounts to a list of who annoys voters most, respondents were asked to name “candidates for mayor for whom you would never vote.” The result: Peskin topped the list, at 44%. He was followed by Breed, 27%; Farrell, 18%; Supervisor Ahsha Safaí, 15%; and Lurie, the winner, at 9%.
Lurie’s opponents are known quantities. That’s both an asset and a weakness.
A Chinatown resident may resent Breed for a proposed (later scrapped) sober living facility in the neighborhood; a voter who prioritizes criminal justice reform may remember when Farrell, as mayor, clashed with the Police Officers Association over rank-and-file raises. Voters may begrudge Peskin for his notorious late-night phone calls skewering city staff for alleged failures.
Lurie, on the other hand, has no government experience, no record in office to research, and few past public comments to analyze. More than any other candidate, his lack of public history allows him to craft his own narrative, McDaniel said.
Lurie’s policies sometimes reflect a balance between those of his more outspoken opponents. While some candidates have hammered on the need to arrest drug users, under Lurie’s plan, people who are addicted and commit low-level offenses “would be given the option of treatment in lieu of arrest.” He also believes in increasing police hiring.
McDaniel said candidates take a risk when they don’t paint strong contrasts to their opponents. Despite the role of second- and third-ranked votes, candidates who garner the most first-choice votes enjoy an advantage. Right now, that’s Breed.
“Can you win by being broadly liked, but not loved, for instance, by anyone?” McDaniel said. “I think it’s going to be hard to win this election for Daniel Lurie in that kind of campaign unless you can finish in the second position.”
Breed campaign spokesperson Joe Arellano said the poll shows that Lurie is deliberately avoiding hot-button issues.
“His entire campaign is just a bunch of bland political catchphrases stitched together — and it’s by design,” Arrellano said in a statement. “He tells the voters absolutely nothing about what he would do as mayor, so he can appear safe and noncontroversial and be everyone’s second choice.”
As for Farrell, his distinct style is an advantage, according to campaign manager Jade Tu.
“Our campaign is right where we want to be as we enter the homestretch and has plenty of room to grow as more voters start to tune-in to the race,” Tu said in a statement. “It does not matter how many #2 or #3 votes you get if you are never able to crack into the top two.”
In a text statement, Lurie’s campaign consultant Tyler Law said the nonprofit CEO’s campaign may draw a more distinct picture with his opponents soon.
“His candidacy is tapping into San Franciscans’ deep frustration with the City Hall insiders who have grown and exploited a corrupt system for years,” Law said. “The contrast in this race is coming into sharp focus heading into the final stretch.”
There are early signs Lurie’s strategy may be starting to shift. This week, he launched a volley of attack ads against Farrell. The mailers claim: “Mark Farrell won’t change the system. He built and exploited it.”
Dan Newman, who runs the independent expenditure committee “Believe in SF, Lurie for Mayor 2024,” has hope that the candidate’s broad-based appeal will work. Ads run by the committee tout Lurie as a positive force for change and shy away from critiquing his opponents.
Newman knows this strategy can work. More than a decade ago, he campaigned for another candidate known for a less confrontational style: Mayor Ed Lee.
“Look at how folks like Mayor Ed Lee won overwhelmingly,” Newman said of the 2011 race. “To win in ranked-choice voting, you cannot be polarizing. What you need is an advantage in favorability across the board, and [Lurie’s] dominating in that.”
History offers another lesson: Lee was underestimated too. Critics rolled their eyes at his dad jokes, fumed at his affability, and lampooned his Pollyanna speeches. He rarely boomed or thundered.
In the end, mild-mannered Lee was christened with a nickname that flipped his weakness into a strength: the consensus mayor, because his professorial style brought warring factions together.
Perhaps Lurie will too. If he wins.