Maryland lawmakers pass bill to limit future liabilities amid thousands of claims of sexual abuse

ANNAPOLIS, Md. — Maryland lawmakers passed a measure Saturday to try to limit future liabilities from claims of sexual abuse at state and private institutions after thousands of people unexpectedly came forward with allegations of abuse, many of them in youth detention centers, putting potentially billions of dollars at stake for the state.
The wave of cases targeting the state's juvenile justice system resulted after Maryland eliminated the statute of limitations for child sexual abuse claims two years ago with the Catholic Church abuse scandal in mind.
The action comes as Los Angeles County has announced it plans to pay $4 billion to settle nearly 7,000 claims of childhood sexual abuse that allegedly occurred inside its juvenile facilities and foster homes, in what would be the largest sex abuse settlement in U.S. history.
The Maryland measure, which now goes to Gov. Wes Moore, reduces caps on settlements from $890,000 to $400,000 for cases filed after May 31 for state institutions and from $1.5 million to $700,000 for private institutions. It also changes the 2023 law to allow each claimant to receive only one payment, instead of being able to collect for each incident of abuse.
State Sen. Will Smith, who chairs the Senate Judicial Proceedings Committee, said it has been estimated that Maryland is facing a potential liability between $3 billion and $4 billion.
Smith, a Democrat, noted that lawmakers approved the 2023 Child Victims Act in response 'to a long fight to have justice for victims of child sex abuse, where our prior framework barred some of those claims if you were above the age of 38.'
'But what we could never have anticipated was just the sheer volume of cases that ensued,' Smith said.
During debate Saturday, lawmakers said about 1,500 cases already have been filed. In addition, 4,500 other cases have come to light, lawmakers said, and attorneys for plaintiffs have been in settlement discussions with Maryland Atty. Gen. Anthony Brown's office.
Sen. Justin Ready, a Republican who is the Senate minority whip, said the state liability could potentially be even higher than the estimate cited by Smith.
'We just spent all session wrestling with a $3-billion deficit, which is a huge deficit, and we've been fighting about that and debating it discussing it. … Just one settlement from this very well could end up being that entire amount, and that is not the end of this,' Ready said.
Sen. Chris West, a fellow Republican, said he doubted the provision in the bill that would limit someone to sue for only one individual case, rather than for each incident of abuse, would survive a court challenge, based on prior rulings by the Maryland Supreme Court.
'If the Supreme Court follows the guidance of prior Supreme Court decisions, they will hold that our attempt to deny people the right to file cases to recover for multiple occurrences is unconstitutional, because those rights for the past two years have been vested,' West said. 'The people have had the right to file those cases.'
Smith told reporters Friday that he believed a settlement 'is the optimal solution here.'
'We're hoping that the attorney general and the plaintiffs can get together and work out a settlement,' he said.
Maryland lawmakers passed the Child Victims Act in the immediate aftermath of a scathing investigative report by the attorney general's office that revealed widespread abuse within the Archdiocese of Baltimore. Before its passage, victims couldn't sue after they turned 38. The law change prompted the archdiocese to file for bankruptcy to protect its assets.
The Maryland Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of the law in a 4-3 ruling in February.
The measure approved Saturday also would cap attorneys' fees at 20% for cases that settle out of court and 25% for cases resolved in court.
The Senate voted 36 to 7 for the bill on Saturday, and the House voted 92 to 40 in favor a short time later, sending the bill to the governor.
Witte writes for the Associated Press.

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Newsweek

17 minutes ago

• Newsweek

Donald Trump's SNAP Benefit Cut Plans Suffer Blow

Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A plan by Republicans to shift a portion of federal food stamp costs to state governments suffered a major setback after the Senate parliamentarian found it would violate chamber rules. Why It Matters The blocked provision was an attempt to reduce federal spending on the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), affecting more than 40 million low-income Americans who rely on food aid. The shift would have transferred major SNAP costs to the states, requiring them to pay at least 5 percent—and potentially more—of benefit costs, which analysts warned could result in significant cuts to nutrition support. The parliamentarian's decision places additional pressure on the bill's champions to find alternative means to fund tax cuts without imperiling food assistance, Medicaid, or other federal support programs. What To Know The provision, a cornerstone of Republican efforts to offset the costs of President Donald Trump's multitrillion-dollar tax and spending legislation, has been ruled inadmissible under Senate rules, sending GOP leaders scrambling to revise the mega bill. The ruling, issued by Senate parliamentarian Elizabeth MacDonough, came as the package prepared for a vote. While her opinions are advisory, they are rarely ignored in lawmaking practice. Republican lawmakers are now searching for new savings as they continue to advance Trump's legislative priorities despite the setback. Activists with the Poor People's Campaign protest against spending reductions across Medicaid, food stamps and federal aid in President Donald Trump's spending and tax bill being worked on by Senate Republicans this week, outside the... Activists with the Poor People's Campaign protest against spending reductions across Medicaid, food stamps and federal aid in President Donald Trump's spending and tax bill being worked on by Senate Republicans this week, outside the Supreme Court in Washington D.C. on Monday, June 2, 2025. More J. Scott Applewhite/AP Photo Parliamentarian Ruling and Byrd Rule Compliance MacDonough declared the SNAP cost-sharing plan noncompliant with the chamber's budget reconciliation rules, specifically the Byrd Rule, which bars certain policy measures from being attached to budget bills. The proposal would have shifted billions of dollars in SNAP costs from the federal government to the states, creating a new fiscal obligation for state governments and threatening coverage for millions. House Passes Bill with GOP SNAP Cuts The House passed the broader tax and spending package along party lines in May 2025, including a provision to require states to fund at least 5 percent of SNAP benefits and more for high error rates. The House-passed measure's SNAP provision was projected to save about $128 billion. Republican leaders had hoped these savings would help offset the bill's $4.5 trillion in tax cuts and new spending. Other Key Provisions Beyond SNAP, the package includes an extension and expansion of individual and business tax cuts, new work requirements for Medicaid recipients, cuts to federal health and nutrition programs, increased military and border security funding, and the elimination of taxes on tips for service workers. GOP Paths Forward Republican leaders, including Senate Agriculture Committee Chair John Boozman of Arkansas, said they were exploring options to keep the legislation on track while still delivering savings elsewhere. Options range from modifying the disputed SNAP provision to removing it entirely or risking a procedural vote requiring 60 votes—an unlikely scenario in the current Senate. Impact on SNAP Recipients The plan would have expanded work requirements to older adults (up to age 65), a component that remains in the bill for now. Democrats and anti-hunger advocates warned of significant harm to those in need, with more than 3 million individuals projected to lose food stamp access based on Congressional Budget Office estimates. Additional Rulings Expected The Senate parliamentarian is also expected to rule on other elements in the bill, including limits on immigrant eligibility for nutrition aid and changes to federal agencies, with further decisions likely to shape the final legislation. What People Are Saying Minnesota Senator Amy Klobuchar, the top Democrat on the Senate Agriculture, Nutrition and Forestry Committee, said: "We will keep fighting to protect families in need," opposing shifts in SNAP costs to states, which she said would result in significant benefit cuts. Arkansas Senator John Boozman, chair of the Senate Agriculture Committee, said Republicans are "exploring options" to comply with Senate rules, while supporting those reliant on SNAP. What Happens Next Senate Republicans are expected to revise the bill to comply with the parliamentarian's rulings or drop the contested SNAP provisions. Further decisions from the adviser on other elements of the megabill are anticipated before any final Senate vote. This article contains reporting from The Associated Press.

Politico

an hour ago

• Politico

Why the New York Mayor's Race Matters

NEW YORK — How on earth are voters in America's largest city choosing between a 33-year-old socialist and a sex pest for mayor? OK, that's a bit unfair: Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani would be 34 by the time he'd be sworn in to lead New York City. But seriously, these are the choices Democrats here have before them when they go to the polls Tuesday in the most revealing primary election since the party's debacle last year. There's Mamdani, a proud member of the Democratic Socialists of America by way of a noted workers' paradise, Bowdoin, who's calling for city-owned grocery stores and offending the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum by trying to rationalize calls to 'globalize the intifada.' Then there's former Gov. Andrew Cuomo, who was forced out of office less than four years ago after multiple women accused him of sexual harassment, now says he regrets resigning and has expressed little contrition about his personal conduct or his deadly mishandling of Covid-19. Cuomo is despised by much of the city, including some of his biggest benefactors, and is the favorite to win. Oh, and if either Mamdani or Cuomo falls short in New York's ranked-choice Democratic primary, each already has secured a separate ballot line in the general election; if they win, they'll get to use it in addition to the Democratic party line, and if they lose, they'll still get the chance to run as independents. Neither ruled out remaining in the race when I asked them if they'd run on a third-party line this fall. Mayor Eric Adams, who avoided corruption charges after cozying up to the Trump administration in an apparent arrangement that would have some Philly ward bosses blush, will also be on the ballot on his own line. The Republican standard bearer is Guardian Angels leader Curtis Sliwa, who was wearing a red hat (beret, to be exact) before it was cool and is ageless in that Dick Clark sort of way. It doesn't quite portend a replay of John Lindsay jousting with Abe Beame and William F. Buckley Jr. in 1965. However, the outcome should not be minimized. Suburban moderate women with national security experience were handily nominated this month to lead the Democratic ticket in state races this year in Virginia and New Jersey, which may itself say something about the appetite of the party's primary voters. But in New York, there is a real internecine clash — and it carries profound implications. Can a young leftist appeal to the party's traditional base of older Black voters? Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is watching. Has the backlash to so-called wokeness that sanitized Trump last year reached into Democratic ranks so voters will reluctantly vote for the S.O.B.-we-know? And would Cuomo take such support as a vote of confidence and quickly begin running for president himself in 2028? He repeatedly refused to rule out such a run when I asked him. This being New York, it's not exactly difficult to find voters exasperated with their choices or shy about articulating their frustrations. Including in front of the candidates themselves. Last Sunday afternoon, walking up a closed-to-traffic Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side, I came across city comptroller Brad Lander, who's polling in third place in the mayor's race. Lander — an affable, middle-aged official fittingly called 'Dad Lander' by his 20-something daughter — was passing out his brochures to shoppers strolling through the streetside market. It was one of those great moments of municipal politics serendipity — running into a candidate in the wild — and I used the opportunity to ask Lander why New Yorkers were left with two options so many found wanting. 'What I'm doing is presenting an option which is neither of those,' Lander began before a voice beside us interjected. 'I wish you or Scott Stringer had actually run as a moderate Democrat instead of trying to be all things to all people,' said the voice, carrying an unmistakable New York accent and citing another lagging candidate. 'Because the last thing this country needs is the left wing of the party dragging us down again and electing people like Trump.' The voter's name was Robert, he wouldn't offer his last name, and he wasn't finished. 'If you'd actually run as a moderate, you'd be the top of my ticket,' he told Lander, explaining: 'I'd rather have an asshole than a progressive.' In what may have been one of the most dutiful and unnecessary follow-ups in my career, I confirmed that, yes, Robert did have Cuomo in mind when he cited 'an asshole.' Lander was patient, arguing that he doesn't think it's wishy-washy 'to want government to run better and to be ambitious about what it can deliver.' Robert became friendlier and presented a peace offering by way of vowing to still rank Lander. Then I asked Lander directly, well, are you a progressive or a moderate? 'See, he won't answer the question!' Robert butted in before Lander could even respond. The candidate called himself 'a pragmatic progressive,' which prompted Robert to walk away. The Upper West Sider said he was a committed Democrat and retired lawyer who also worked in IT and finance, but he was more interested in venting his frustrations than discussing himself. In short: He's 'really pissed off' at MAGA and progressives, the latter, he said, for paving Trump's return. Which gets to the heart of the frustration so many New Yorkers have, not just over this race but from the long shadow of 2024. Moderates believe the party's drift to the left on culture and identity doomed them last year, and progressives can't believe Democrats haven't learned from ceding populism to the right. Yet just as the party sleepwalked into Armageddon by not speaking up about Joe Biden sooner, New York Democrats find themselves with a stark choice today as much as through omission as commission. Most major institutions have either remained silent or enabled Cuomo's comeback. That starts with elected officials who disdain him, most significantly Gov. Kathy Hochul and Senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand. The silence of Schumer, his party's Senate leader and a New York senator for more than a quarter-century, is particularly deafening. Imagine Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi letting an old home-state rival waltz back to office. Organized labor, the closest thing that exists to New York's old Democratic machines, has also for the most part stayed out of the race or backed Cuomo. And then there's The New York Times editorial page, which has a proven record of influencing local elections. The dominant local daily initially declined to offer an endorsement. Instead, they empaneled a group of local citizens to offer their preferences — Lander was the most popular — and eventually ran an unsigned editorial denouncing Mamdani and urging New Yorkers not to rank him. To be fair, it has been difficult for any candidate to get much attention when so much of traditional and social media is drenched in national coverage and namely the return of another rampaging son of Queens. Perhaps the most important non-event took place before the campaign even got fully underway. That was when Trump won last year and Attorney General Letitia James decided not to run for mayor. James may never have ultimately entered the race, but multiple New York Democrats told me there was a backstage campaign to nudge her into the race. A Black woman from Brooklyn who ran the inquiry into Cuomo's sexual harassment, James would've been the obvious Stop Andrew candidate. 'If Tish James had run, it would have been no race — she would have won hands down,' the Rev. Al Sharpton told me. 'And I think that is why we ended up where we are.' Sharpton, speaking in the back of his National Action Network's Harlem headquarters just minutes after hosting Cuomo there, said: 'I would have wanted to see Tish James run.' With James out and Adams cutting his deal with Trump, Cuomo was emboldened. Some Democrats, including Hochul and most crucially James, cast about for an alternative and landed on City Council Speaker Adrienne Adams, also a Black woman. However, Adams got in late, had little name ID and wasn't able to raise much money. And by then, many New York Democrats knew, and feared, Cuomo well enough to jump on board with him or at least stay out of his way. 'The only people with 'rizz' are the anti-establishment socialists who can't win citywide,' complained Lis Smith, a Democratic strategist and still-deciding New York voter. It may be the largest city in the country, but the talent is either average, blocked by aging incumbents or simply happy to wait for a future gubernatorial or Senate run and avoid a job that not only may be the country's second-hardest but also ends rather than launches careers. Look no further than the last three former mayors — Rudy Giuliani, Michael Bloomberg and Bill de Blasio — and the current incumbent. The former mayors all ran for president and found about as much success as the Jets have in reaching the playoffs. And Adams called himself 'the future' and 'the face' of the Democratic Party upon winning in 2021, only to face federal charges three years later. The city's current mayor and the leading hopefuls to replace him converged earlier this month at the funeral for longtime Rep. Charlie Rangel, a homegoing that amounted to a state funeral in New York. The service was held in St. Patrick's, the city's grandest cathedral. Cardinal Timothy Dolan, New York's Archbishop, presided. Dignitaries filled the pews and took to the pulpit to remember the long-serving House member and 'Lion of Lenox Avenue,' who 'thought the 'H' in Heaven stood for Harlem,' as one of his eulogists said. It was a grand mix of the Black church and the Catholic church, and it was exquisitely timed in the political calendar in a way I think Rangel would have loved. 'What a scene!' he may have said in that gravelly, 'New Yawk' voice, eyes twinkling and bow tie knotted smartly. The mayoral candidates played to type. Adams arrived at the front of the church, with most people already seated, at 9:54 for a 9:45 service. He's only the second Black mayor in the city's history, but he didn't speak and was scarcely mentioned, fitting for someone who's become a non-person in the minds of political New York. Mamdani zipped around the pews before the service, offering a hand to people he recognized, being greeted by some he didn't and generally playing the role of both outsider and young man in a hurry. He sat behind a massive marble pillar that had a wheelchair stuffed between it and the pew, 11 rows back from the front of the sanctuary. Cuomo sat in the fourth row and acted as though he were still in high office. He chatted with Nancy Pelosi, an old family friend, before the service and visited with other current and former officials, but notably avoided his former nemesis, de Blasio, who was inches away. When Mamdani finally mustered the courage to walk to the front rows and greet the VIPs before the service, none stood except for de Blasio. It was great theater, an allegory for the campaign, but the politicking in such an august setting was also something else: a reminder that there's always been a thin line separating the hacks and the statesmen of New York. The Roosevelts didn't have clean hands when it came to Tammany Hall, and their highbrow heirs also did what it took to win. One of my favorite New York artifacts is the letter an on-the-make professor named Daniel Patrick Moynihan wrote to Tammany boss Carmine De Sapio in 1971. Addressing his note to De Sapio in the 'United States Prison Facility' of Allendale, Pennsylvania, Moynihan recalls his 11th Avenue upbringing ('George Washington Plunkitt's old district'), laments that De Sapio was denied parole and offers regret that he 'never got to know you fellows very well' before assuring the boss that he has 'a friend on the Harvard faculty.' It's redolent of reformers and regulars, the 20th century New York of the 'Three Is' — when Democrats would strive to nominate a ticket that could reflect Ireland, Italy and Israel. But for Cuomo, the past is never dead — it's not even past. Speaking to closely huddled reporters avoiding a summer drizzle outside of Sharpton's Harlem headquarters, Cuomo reminded a young journalist that he had worked on his father's losing mayoral race, a formative campaign in the life of both Cuomos. He had been asked about the biggest surprise in this contest. 'Nothing,' he said with a shrug. 'My father ran for mayor before you were born, 1977,' Cuomo recalled, boasting: 'I know this city like the back of my hand.' Cuomo has long lived in the suburbs and, as governor, in Albany, and he's sensitive about criticisms over his residency. Which may be part of the reason he insists on driving himself around the city in a black Dodge Charger. Yet I didn't think about it again until the following day, which happened to be both Father's Day and what would have been Mario Cuomo's 93rd birthday. Andrew was at his second Black church of the day, and this one was in Jamaica, Queens, his father's hometown. Speaking during the service, and at another one in Brooklyn earlier in the morning, Cuomo said matter-of-factly that he still talks to his deceased father, and in fact his father talks back, and at times they argue. So when I caught up with Cuomo in Queens, I asked what his father would think of his candidacy today. 'Oh, he would think it's exactly right,' said the younger Cuomo. Then he was off to the races in ways that made clear he, too, was still consumed by 2024 and was interested in leading his party's recovery. 'Donald Trump, we lost to Donald Trump, 500,000 fewer Democrats turned out' in New York, he said by way of explaining why his dad would approve of his bid. The party, Cuomo said, had lost too much of its working-class base. ''What are you going to do for me?' It has to be real, it has to be tangible,' he said, articulating what those voters expect and arguing he fits the bill because of his record of results. A record, he argued, which includes his performance on Covid-19. Cuomo said the idea that his effort on the pandemic is a blemish is '100 percent wrong' and called the coverage of deaths in nursing homes 'all created for New York Post readers.' He was full of swagger, even insisting on going off the record a couple of times as though he was still in Albany telephoning the tabloids to steer their coverage. The previous night, at a rally in Manhattan, Ocasio-Cortez had said Cuomo was only running for mayor to run for president in 2028. What say you, I asked. 'I'm doing this for this,' he said of the mayor's race. He then talked about the importance of focusing on the here and now, but in the process unfurled his resume, recalling his service as HUD secretary and even claiming, without mentioning the election, that he had been 'on the short list for vice-president.' Sounding like a Queens Sun Tzu, Cuomo said: 'If you are watching the step ahead, you'll trip on this step, I believe that.' It was all a non-answer that pointed at his obvious ambition, quest for redemption and, perhaps, the chance to succeed at what his father never dared to try. 'You think you're going to get a different answer?' when I tried once more. 'You think this is my first rodeo?' I was reminded that it's very much not a bit later, after Cuomo was reunited with all three of his daughters that Father's Day Sunday. They stood behind him outside the church in Queens, and their dad's mood brightened with their presence as he addressed a handful of reporters and photographers. Were they happy he was back in the political fray, I asked? Each of them took their turn speaking with pride about their father, and Cuomo beamed. He also recognized something else: This was a moment that should be captured. He gestured to an aide, but the staffer didn't initially get the message. So the aide walked over to the former governor as the girls spoke. The staffer leaned in and Cuomo whispered: 'Film it.' Forty-eight years later, he still thought like the operative he had been on his dad's mayoral campaign. I should talk a bit about the state of the city. This is one of those moments when perception is at odds with the statistics. As with so many American cities, New York has entered what I call the post-post-Covid moment. While it didn't suffer the spike in carjackings as other parts of the country did — the city's geographic and population density is a natural prophylactic — New York had its troubles during and immediately after the pandemic. There were abhorrent crimes on the subway and there are still nuisance matters, such as the toothpaste and shampoo being behind a locked window at the drugstore. Still, Adams is going to preside over a historic plunge in violent crime. The first five months of this year brought the lowest number of shootings and homicides in recorded New York City history. There's a noticeably increased police presence, particularly on the subways, where Hochul has state authority and intervened. Coming out of the Washington Square station one afternoon this month, I counted six uniformed city cops underground. Much of Manhattan feels like a summer playground, downtown for those under 40 (or under 40 at heart) and the Upper East and West sides for those middle-aged (or still so at heart). 'As for people who are like, 'the city is crumbling,' try getting into a restaurant,' de Blasio told me over a pesto bagel near his Brooklyn home. And yet the most recent Marist survey of the city's voters found that 77 percent believed New York is headed in the wrong direction. Part of that can be attributed to embarrassment over Adams' saga in addition to lingering quality-of-life concerns, less fear of being shot and more unease with the mentally ill homeless person muttering to you. Recalling what police commissioner Bill Bratton once told him, de Blasio said: 'We have to separate crime and order, but the public doesn't.' However, the city's discontents also center on something else, which has been the heartbeat of Mamdani's campaign — affordability. For all his nifty videos and quick-on-the-draw wit, Mamdani wouldn't be giving Cuomo such a race had the assemblymember not harnessed such a galvanizing issue. His calls for a rent freeze and broader lament about the costs of living in New York are what vaulted him into contention and have made him a progressive phenomenon, particularly with young voters. 'Mamdani understood that he was never going to own the crime issue. He was for defund, but he could own affordability, and that's where he planted his flag early,' said Howard Wolfson, a longtime Bloomberg adviser and shrewd student of the city's politics. 'And as crime has come down, the issue of affordability has risen and it turns out it was the smart play.' Odd as it may sound, affordability was a luxury issue that became more resonant once people feared less for their personal safety. In the weeks leading up to the mayoral primary, one could be forgiven for thinking that Mamdani was the only candidate in the race, at least away from a TV set where Cuomo and his allies are carpet-bombing their young rival. To walk around the city is to see mostly Mamdani signs, pamphlets and canvassers. Strolling from Sharpton's 145th St. office 35 blocks down to Central Park North, I ran into three sets of Mamdani volunteers, all of them clearly under 50. Along the way, I popped into the Frederick E. Samuel Community Democratic Club, one of Harlem's old Black clubhouses, and the conversation quickly turned to Mamdani's appeal with young voters. Maurice Cummings, who's an aide to a Democratic assemblymember, recalled a recent gathering Mamdani had in Harlem. 'The thing that I find interesting is that he's crossing racial lines, the place was filled with Black, white, Indian, Puerto Rican,' said Cummings, who's 52. 'I would probably have been one of the oldest folks there.' I caught a glimpse of this dynamic on the corner of 155th and Broadway in Washington Heights, where Mamdani held a press conference on Father's Day afternoon. While he addressed the cameras, a small group of New Yorkers reflecting his base gathered to greet him and offer their support. There was the post-collegiate white guy, still wearing his backpack with a Notre Dame logo, a trans person thanking him for supporting trans rights, a fellow graduate of the Bronx High School of Science and a young Jewish voter lamenting the line of questioning Mamdani, who's Muslim, had received on Jewish-related issues. What there wasn't was any older Black people (except for the one who drove by, leaned out the window and told Mamdani to take his campaign 'to the projects'). It was a similar demographic the previous night, when Mamdani held a packed rally at an event space in one of Manhattan's old piers. One of the loudest cheers of the night was when a city councilor called to 'Free Palestine,' electrifying an audience more bougie than Bronx. The only Black people there over 40 I could find were working security. Walking with Mamdani down Broadway after his press conference the next day, I asked how he could avoid the fate of other progressive candidates in Democratic primaries who couldn't expand their coalition beyond young and non-Black voters. He said he was heartened by how far he had come — he had been in two Black churches himself that morning — but it was easy to pick up traces of wishing he had more time. 'One of the greatest challenges has been having to introduce myself, because when we started this race, one percent of New Yorkers knew who I was,' Mamdani told me, adding that he believes his affordability message 'resonates' but 'the question is whether we can share it with as many people as possible.' As with Cuomo, though for far less time, Mamdani worked in politics a bit before taking the plunge himself as a candidate. So for all his progressive proposals, there's also a hunger to win and an inevitable tension between principle and politics. Some of Mamdani's own advisers are eager for him to assure more moderate New Yorkers that he won't revert to his defund-the-police calls from the Black Lives Matter era. The easiest way to do that would be to signal he'd retain Jessica Tisch, the popular police commissioner, heiress and good news story of the otherwise cringey Adams administration. 'I would consider doing so,' he said, praising Tisch's efforts to root out corruption. Mamdani wouldn't go any further, though, saying 'these conversations are ones that I will engage in after the primary.' Of course, that may be too late. He had said at his rally the night before that 'the days of moral victories are over,' but Mamdani is self-aware enough to know how far he's come in his first citywide race — and that this won't be his last campaign. 'As a Muslim democratic socialist, I am no stranger to bad PR,' he joked. And after I asked him about the three rings he wears and wondered where he was hiding his Bowdoin class ring, he shot back: 'That's for the re-elect.'

Boston Globe

2 hours ago

• Boston Globe

Meet the unorthodox governor who could be the MAHA movement's favorite Democrat

Over his years in politics, Polis has — if nothing else — stood out. Advertisement A wealthy tech entrepreneur, he bankrolled early efforts to turn Colorado into a Democratic stronghold before running for office himself — first for Congress, where he served five terms. In 2018, he became the first openly gay man to win a state governorship. Since taking office, he's pursued an agenda with centrist, libertarian, and progressive threads, prioritizing cutting taxes but also making kindergarten fully free in the state. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Now, Polis is distinguishing himself as a rare Democrat willing to engage with In an interview with the Globe on Tuesday, Polis declined to praise or criticize Kennedy directly — or talk about him much at all — when asked to assess the secretary's performance. Advertisement Polis expressed 'skepticism and concern with regard to casting aspersions on vaccines that are absolutely critical to protect health and reduce deadly disease incidence.' But where many Democrats have avoided engaging with the 'I mean, we're a proud part of the United States of America, so of course, we're going to work with our own federal government,' Polis said. 'So that means … playing defense where we need to, and it also means seeking opportunities where we can.' The governor argued that as he works with the administration, he's also 'trying to defend and improve and increase vaccine use' and fight sweeping SNAP cuts proposed by Trump's allies in Congress. As Democrats anxiously search for new leaders to meet this moment, Polis has attracted speculation as a contender for the presidency in 2028. And he hasn't exactly shunned the attention. Asked about a presidential campaign, Polis told the Globe that he's 'not thinking about any other job' and that he's focused on 'running through the tape to deliver' as governor until he leaves in January 2027. But he didn't rule out the possibility. Senator John Hickenlooper, the previous Democratic governor of Colorado, predicted that Polis — whom he praised as a 'leader among Democrats' — will 'stay actively engaged' after leaving the governorship. 'He addresses each issue as a unique issue, and he doesn't worry about what other people said or what other people think,' Hickenlooper said. Advertisement Polis may not worry about it, but he draws strong — and often polarizing — reactions in Colorado. In recent years, he's alienated some fellow Democrats, raising doubts about how solid his base would be if he pursued national office. Howard Chou, a former state party vice chair and a Colorado delegate to the Democratic National Committee, argued Polis has become 'very unpopular' within his own party. His openness to Kennedy hasn't helped. 'I'm OK with working with people to get stuff done,' said Chou, 'but also to facilitate some of Kennedy's craziness has not gone off well.' One of Polis's more controversial moves was his recent vetoes of Democratic-backed legislation, especially a bill that would have Through a spokesman, Colorado Democratic Party Chair Shad Murib, who participated in demonstrations against Polis's labor stance, declined to be interviewed. Polis told the Globe he has 'very strong' relationships with Democrats and downplayed any lingering differences. Meanwhile, some Colorado Republicans appreciate his independent streak. 'One of the things I really like about Governor Polis is the fact that he doesn't have to accept every aspect of somebody in order to find the things he can connect with them on,' said Kelly Maher, a GOP strategist who previously worked on efforts to defeat Polis. Polis's unconventional approach, and his interest in issues now close to the MAHA movement, dates back to his time in Congress. In 2015, he was a lead co-sponsor of bipartisan legislation to legalize the sale and shipment of raw milk across state lines. He's since attempted to legalize raw milk in Colorado as governor. Advertisement Broadly, Polis may reflect Colorado's liberal but libertarian-tinged politics as well as its environmentally focused and health-conscious populace — the type of milieu from which Kennedy emerged in the first place. And nowhere in the state are those tendencies stronger than in Polis's hometown of Boulder, In his first year as governor, Polis opposed Democratic-backed legislation intended to increase childhood vaccine uptake in Colorado, objecting to a provision requiring parents to seek a child's vaccine exemption from officials in person. The bill never became law. After the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Polis advocated for the new vaccines and blamed misinformation for packing hospitals with unvaccinated people. 'It's just like, science solved this thing but then people screwed up the solution,' he said in an interview at the time. But the governor also became an early Democrat to lift masking requirements. In welcoming Kennedy's appointment, Polis credited him with opposing vaccine mandates and felt he would 'shake up' the nation's public health establishment. Now, with Colorado's The governor said he only met Kennedy once, at a national governors' event, but that he has worked more closely with Rollins, a self-described 'MAHA mom.' Rollins began working with a handful of governors to align states with MAHA priorities by encouraging them to exclude sugary drinks and other 'ultra-processed' foods from food stamp eligibility. Among the first nine governors to request waivers, Polis was the lone Democrat. Advertisement Noting Colorado is 'a very health-conscious state,' Polis said he was interested in pursuing the waiver as a 'powerful and compelling way to drive down health care costs by reducing chronic disease and preventing diet-related illness.' There's debate among nutrition experts over the possible impacts. Kate Bauer, an associate professor at the University of Michigan who studies SNAP, argued that such waivers 'make life hard for SNAP users and make people not want to be in the program.' As for Polis, he sees more opportunities to work with MAHA, telling the Globe he supports Kennedy's efforts to ban artificial food dyes that have been linked to some health risks. Ted Trimpa, a Colorado Democratic strategist who has known Polis for decades, said that 'what makes Jared authentic' is that he 'understands you have to work with people you don't necessarily agree with.' 'We can't wave a wand and make RFK Jr. go away. You can either try to find glimmers of hope in the craziness … or not,' he added. 'Jared is willing to walk down that path and some politicians aren't. But that's what makes him different.' Sam Brodey can be reached at