Maybe it's getting older. Maybe it's feeling comfort in my own skin, both the successes and the failures. Whatever the reason, I am finding my voice in politics, and I like it.

I recently went to a political fundraiser for Oliver Ma. He's a Democratic Socialist running for Lieutenant Governor. I won't be voting him, but I appreciated his conviction. He's a good speaker and he's putting himself out there. Respect.

That's pretty much where it stops.

He doesn't like "corporate Democrats." He doesn't like prisons. He doesn't like tuition or expensive housing. He doesn't like Scott Weiner. I don't get it, and I surprised myself by saying it aloud.

I'll backtrack.

The fundraiser was held at my friend's house. We've known each other for decades, back to our undergraduate years at UC Berkeley. He's Hawaiian, born on a commune in a rainforest. He's tall, handsome, charming, and has always been surrounded by admirers. He climbs and shortcuts his way up an org chart, finding a seat next to whomever's in charge. It's an uncanny skill. Plus, he's just a warm and welcoming person who pushes me to be better.

So I've tried to stay in touch over the years. I was really happy when he moved to Alameda, less than 30 minutes from me. I also try to say yes to anything he invites me to.

Hence, Oliver Ma. I'm not a Democratic Socialist and I'm not sure that he is either. I think a lot of the ideas are well-meaning. I like Bernie. I like AOC. I like Mamdani. My critique is that it's far too easy to promise utopia. Free resources and no inflation. No cops and also no crime.

When we flooded the economy with cash during COVID, we saw rampant inflation. When we neutered police departments in San Francisco and Oakland, crime ticked up. When we put controls on rent, builders stop building homes. These are hard economic rules and they don't budge. You can't will them away with charm and votes. Those votes might get you elected, but the rules of the economy are like rules of physics: they always win.

This is what I was thinking when Oliver stopped talking and my friend stepped up and offered an open mic. He invited us to speak for a few minutes each and say whatever is on our mind. He scanned the room but didn't pick on me at first. A few others spoke. I knew my clock was ticking. We made eye contact and he lured me over. I had a rough idea of what I wanted to say. I knew this audience wouldn't want to hear it. I tried anyway.

It wasn't coherent. I rambled. I talked about my grandparents, how all four of them were teachers. I talked about students I've taught at DVC, how bright many of them are, and how free tuition doesn't solve their need to work to support their parents. I shunned purity tests. I said I don't think all billionaires are bad and suggested that you can't become a billionaire without making a lot of other people wealthy too.

I've mulled over my speech a bunch of times. As I think back on it, I wish I'd made it more optimistic. I wish I'd said that the upcoming week is Earth Week in San Francisco, that this is how the host and I first became friends. Many of these climate technologists are capitalists. Many will become millionaries. Most will want to become billionaires. They don't want crime, they do want housing, and if they met Scott Weiner, they'd probably want to vote for him.

There's a place in the progressive middle. I'm finding it. It's fun to think about and I'll probably start writing more about it too.