The Davis Enigma: Success Comes Without Popularity

After three years in office and an easy primary win, Gov. Gray Davis faces a strange problem: More California voters than ever actively dislike him.

When asked why, in a Times poll last month, voters most often blamed his handling of the power crisis. Beyond performance-related gripes, many said in follow-up interviews that he seems soulless and ambitious, a tactician who sees all issues through the lens of political advance.

“He’s as cold as ice,” said John Cohen, a Los Angeles Democrat who voted for Davis in 1998, but is undecided about whether to do so again in November.

The pragmatic Davis has never pretended to offer much in the way of warm fuzzies.

Still, heading into the long middle section of his reelection bid, he faces a decision. Should he try to woo the disaffected? Or should he use his resources to target his Republican opponent, Bill Simon Jr., accepting voters’ reluctant embrace? Put another way, must Davis be liked to win?

“We don’t have to make Gray Davis into the sweetheart of the rodeo,” said Garry South, Davis’ campaign manager. “Gray Davis is not going to be judged against himself. He will be judged against his opponent.”

Other California governors--notably Davis’ Republican predecessor, Pete Wilson--have surmounted low job-approval ratings and low charisma quotients to win second terms. Like Wilson, Davis has taken the brunt of voter frustration related to a national economic recession.

Davis, however, has less time to engineer a turnaround. Longtime state political strategists doubt he can entirely escape the shadow of his administration’s defining events.

“At some point, it can’t be just ‘the other guy is this, the other guy is that,’ ” said Gale Kaufman, a Democratic campaign consultant. “He doesn’t want the election to be about him and, as governor, that’s pretty hard to do.”

In Simon, Davis faces a political novice whose campaign-trail oratory remains awkward. But Simon’s advisors say his very lack of polish, combined with his smiling, self-effacing demeanor, could help position him as a nice-guy alternative.

“Even people who don’t agree with Simon see him as someone who listens. He’s not a know-it-all,” said Sal Russo, Simon’s campaign manager. “If voters liked Davis, they’d be more forgiving of mistakes.”

Davis enters the general-election race with some unquestionable advantages: In addition to the name familiarity that comes with incumbency, he’s a relentless fund-raiser and already has millions of dollars in the bank. And as a moderate Democrat in a Democratic state, he is in sync with the public’s views on a wide range of issues.

Clearly, though, the energy crisis served as the dividing line in Davis’ relationship with California voters.

Before Energy Crisis, Kudos

Though he never inspired fervent loyalty, little more than a year ago Davis’ work won kudos from 56% of registered voters and complaints from just 32%, according to Times polls.

The downside shifted dramatically as the energy crisis intensified. The portion of voters with unfavorable impressions of Davis jumped from 27% in January 2001 to 41% five months later.

It stood at 45% early last month, when almost a third of Democratic respondents to a Times poll said they looked upon Davis unfavorably, as did almost two in five independents. Of those who said they disliked Davis, 42% cited the power crunch as the No. 1 reason, criticizing his approach and his results.

“He ignored everything for a year, then he did everything in secret,” said Dvorah Colker, a Los Angeles Democrat who voted for Davis in 1998 but said she will not do so again. “He’s a loner, a close-to-the-vest guy. Maybe if there had been a more open process the state would have gotten a better deal.”

At this point, roughly the same number of voters disapprove of Davis’ job performance as approve--47% in each case, anemic numbers for an incumbent.

Though his troubles started with energy, a bevy of other issues--from education to the burgeoning budget deficit and the program cuts it may trigger--have emerged to contribute to the low-grade hum of voter discontent, Times polls show.

For example, though Davis made public schools a top priority, expanding their budget far faster than his predecessors, education is the second-most common source of complaint among voters who view him negatively.

South blamed an impatient electorate and an inattentive media for not recognizing Davis’ accomplishments, promising the campaign would repackage his record through a barrage of compare-and-contrast issue ads.

“If people don’t like the governor’s record, wait until they hear Bill Simon’s solutions,” he said. “It’s a slam dunk.”

Several consultants slammed this approach, calling it a thinly veiled retread of Davis’ 1998 gubernatorial run against Dan Lungren. The governor needs to do a better job of communicating his successes, they said.

Last month’s state Democratic convention featured a video touting Davis’ work on health care, domestic-partner benefits and schools, “and even I didn’t remember half that stuff,” said one consultant. “It’s as if he has a pretty decent record, but they’ve decided that’s a harder sell tactically than banging on Simon.”

Nevertheless, even disgruntled voters acknowledged that Davis’ negative approach is likely to prove effective. Georgiana Coray, a San Diego Democrat who vented her displeasure over the energy crisis and budget deficit by not voting for Davis in the primary, said she sees little alternative to him in the general election.

“Simon disagrees with everything I believe in,” she said. “He’s way, way too conservative.”

The biggest stumbling block to selling Davis on his positive points may be Davis himself.

“He’s never going to make voters like him as a human being,” said Dan Schnur, a Republican consultant who was Wilson’s communications director. “You’re not going to see ads with him running on the beach with his dog. If Davis has a dog, it’s because a focus group told him to.”

Often, voters can’t quite pinpoint the source of their antipathy for Davis.

“The best thing I can come up with to describe him is wishy-washy,” Coray said.

Every Day a Bad Hair Day

Others mention his plume of hair, his practiced political polish, his charmless campaign slogan (“Effectiveness you can count on”). “It sounds like a Metamucil ad,” a Democratic consultant said.

The same traits Democrats say they admired in Bill Clinton--tireless fund-raising, for example--irritate them in Davis. “Why am I offended by Gray raising money when I wasn’t by Clinton? I wish I could tell you,” said Colker, the Los Angeles voter who is not planning to support Davis again.

South insists that such concerns will crumble away come November and, indeed, even Colker said that if she were satisfied with Davis’ performance, “he wouldn’t have to charm me.”

Kaufman agreed that Davis’ lukewarm appeal to voters need not spell defeat for him, but warned that it could have a devastating effect on other Democrats if it translates into low turnout.

“It will kill everyone underneath him,” she said.