The Machine Never Evolved… And Neither Did Tacoma

This week, I attended a political event for the first time in a while and walked away with a realization that honestly hit harder than I expected.

I arrived on time and left barely 30 minutes later because I could physically feel the disappointment settling in almost the moment I walked through the door.  In fact, I left before anyone even picked up a microphone.  That’s how abrasive the atmosphere felt, for me at least.

Not because of one person.  Not because of one awkward interaction.  Not because somebody didn’t smile enough or shake my hand correctly.  It was something much deeper than that.

I realized the political culture itself has not evolved.  In fact, in my humble opinion, it may have actually gotten worse.

People who once entered politics wide-eyed, enthusiastic and eager to improve Tacoma have slowly degenerated into polished performers, rehearsed personalities and professional image managers. Somewhere along the line, authenticity got traded in for canned talking points, calculated optics and carefully managed public personas.

At times, the room felt less like a gathering of civic leaders and more like a convention of political salespeople.

No offense to actual salespeople.

The same guarded behavior.
The same whispers.
The same social theater.
The same invisible pecking orders.
The same carefully choreographed interactions.

After all… some of them have realized that this could be a longstanding career for them as polished politicians.  At what point does this stop being about improving Tacoma and start becoming about protecting personal political careers?

That’s a question that we need to start entertaining when we find a candidate who resonates with us. 

Are they in this for us or themselves? You can answer that question by watching the selfies and photo ops around the room. Because in Tacoma, saying you were there apparently pulls a lot of clout… bragging rights of sorts. Maybe that’s just a sign of the times, but in Tacoma, it’s “a thing”.

I’ve also noticed that somewhere along the line, punctuality stopped being viewed as respect and started being treated like weakness in political circles. Too many people now weaponize lateness as theater. As if showing up late somehow signals importance, status or demand.

It doesn’t.

If you’re perpetually late to everything, especially events centered around community and relationships, eventually it stops looking “important” and starts looking disrespectful. Or worse… performative.

And before anyone says, “Well, people are busy…” let me stop that one right there.

My work phone was blowing up nonstop that evening.  Calls.  Messages.  Work issues.  The usual chaos of adult life.  Meanwhile, my wife and daughter were home eating dinner without me and yet I still managed to arrive on time.

Because when something matters to you, you make the effort to be there on time.

Ironically, after I left, social media filled in the rest of the picture for me as the “important people” predictably rolled in late… as if punctuality might somehow damage the illusion of being overbooked, overwhelmed and indispensable.

And honestly?  Seeing who arrived afterward only confirmed that leaving early was probably the healthiest decision I made all night.

One interaction in particular stood out to me.  A current elected official was still visibly cold toward me because I didn’t support them as a candidate, rather I supported their opponent.  Mind you, we actually want many of the same things for Tacoma.  I simply believed their opponent was the more fearless and action-oriented candidate.  Yet somehow, I still managed to shake his/her hand, smile and act like an adult anyway.  At no time in my candidacies have I ever faulted someone for supporting my opponents.  To each their own and I respect the process.  If I cried every time someone didn’t support me, you might as well give me a pacifier and a blanky and put me down for a nap.

Funny how that works.

In another interaction, I went out of my way to warmly greet a former political opponent (as I do anytime I see her) only to immediately feel the panic of someone more worried that a public, cordial interaction with me might damage their years of carefully curated mythology and optics about me.  Sorry to accidentally blow up your storyline, but I’m clearly not the monster whom you’d set out to paint me as being.

And then there were the longtime insiders.  The ones who publicly keep their distance to preserve appearances, while privately pulling me aside to gossip, trade political dirt and maintain quiet relationships behind the scenes.  As I’ve said before… I’m Tacoma’s political side-piece.  I’m the relationship that so many have that they don’t want anyone to know about because it ruins the narrative that’s been painted of me for so long.  Tacoma politics has become filled with people trying to simultaneously protect their image while hedging their bets socially.

That’s not leadership.  That’s survival behavior.

And perhaps that’s another part of the problem Tacoma quietly ignores.  For some officials, politics no longer feels like public service as much as social positioning. A constant circuit of appearances, networking, optics and performative importance.  The ecosystem begins rewarding visibility and “being in the room” more than tangible results.  At a certain point, some stop acting like grounded representatives of working people and start behaving like permanent members of an exclusive political club.

And maybe this is also the moment where I need to clear up a misconception some people still seem to have about me.

I didn’t suddenly “appear” in Tacoma politics by running for Mayor in 2021 (and in 2025).  I’ve been deeply involved in Tacoma and its civic, artistic, business and political circles for decades.  My family’s roots in Tacoma go back to 1908.  I’ve lived in this city for over half a century.  I’ve lived in multiple parts of Tacoma, worked within the community, immersed myself in its culture and watched this city evolve, and stagnate, in real time.  The difference is that I didn’t feel the need to become a candidate until I genuinely believed Tacoma had lost its way and I felt I had evolved enough as a person to actually contribute something meaningful.

There’s a reason airlines tell you to secure your own oxygen mask before helping others.  If you haven’t grounded yourself first… if you haven’t matured, evolved, self-reflected and learned who you actually are… you’re not much use to anyone else.  Too many people jump into politics before doing that internal work and eventually it shows.

What struck me most, however, was the contrast between the newer candidates and many of the seasoned political figures in the room.  The newer candidates still had sincerity in their eyes.  Curiosity.  Enthusiasm.  Openness.  You could tell they genuinely wanted to make a difference.  Their interactions still felt human instead of calculated.  Meanwhile, many of the veterans felt emotionally frozen in time.  Still operating from the same insecurities, cliques, narratives and status games that have existed for years.

That’s when it really hit me:

A lot of people age.
Very few actually evolve.

And another realization became impossible for me to ignore.  Many opinions people hold about others are not formed through firsthand experience, but inherited through gossip, whispers, assumptions and carefully cultivated narratives.  Also known, at times, as coordinated narratives and smear campaigns.  Tools that unfortunately tend to work remarkably well in smaller political ecosystems.

People hear someone is “divisive” or “polarizing” long before they’ve ever actually sat down and had an honest conversation with them.

That’s a dangerous thing in politics.  And honestly, in life.

After years around these circles, I’ve come to believe that power and status don’t create character… they reveal it.  They amplify what was already there underneath.

If someone is authentic, success tends to amplify authenticity.

If someone is insecure, performative, manipulative or driven by ego, power tends to magnify those traits too.

The longer many people stay in Tacoma politics, the more they seem to become assimilated into “The Machine” itself.  The institution slowly erodes individuality, honesty and courage until many elected officials begin sounding identical, behaving identically and protecting the exact same culture they once claimed they wanted to change. 

Because cities don’t evolve unless the people leading them evolve first.

If the people in charge remain trapped in the same political habits, insecurities, optics, tribalism and performative behavior year after year, then the city itself eventually becomes trapped alongside them.  Stuck in an endless cycle of managed appearances instead of meaningful progress.

Look no further for Tacoma’s stagnation than a political culture that too often rewards performance over honesty, optics over authenticity and social preservation over actual growth. For years, I probably viewed many of these experiences through the lens of wondering whether I simply didn’t “fit” within Tacoma’s political culture.

But perhaps the problem was never that I didn’t fit in.

Maybe the problem is what this political culture rewards.

Perhaps the statistic that bothered me most all night was this… out of an entire room full of elected officials, political insiders and longtime power players, only about three or four people felt genuinely sincere, professional and decent.  Towards me, at the very least.

That realization stayed with me long after I walked out the door.

Because that night, for the first time in a while, I realized something very clearly.

I had evolved.

Much of Tacoma’s political culture had not.