Jun 5, 2021 5 min read

Andrew Yang, the idiosyncratic lawyer and nonprofit entrepreneur who wanted to be president of the United States in 2020, now wants to be mayor of New York City. As comedian and perennial presidential candidate Pat Paulsen used to say when asked if he would solve the world’s most vexing problems: “Sure, why not?”

Why not a Mayor Yang to follow the term-limited Bill de Blasio, possibly the worst mayor and least charismatic figure in New York’s storied political history? The pandemic can be blamed for the 33,000 dead there, 630,000 lost jobs and 300,000 residents who’ve left. But the city is also dirtier and more violent than when de Blasio arrived eight years ago, and it faces a $4 billion budget shortfall. Time to turn the page.

With a field of 13 Democratic candidates, including the Brooklyn borough president and city comptroller, Yang’s naysayers note his lack of governing experience – and the fact that, by his own admission, he’s never voted in a mayoral race during his 25 years as a city dweller. But what Yang lacks in experience, he more than compensates for with enthusiasm and a childlike wonderment at the possibilities of the greatest city in the world.

Of course, enthusiasm alone doesn’t pay the bills or keep the trains running. Like most candidates whose résumé is lean on job-appropriate qualifications, Yang presents his inexperience as a plus. In a lengthy Washington Post profile by Jada Yuan, he is quoted as a saying, “I think my behavior clearly indicates that it’s not like I’ve been scheming to get in the mayor’s office for the last X years.”

Indeed. But what does this mean? That his ambition is fickle and transitory? That he’s not the sort of fellow who needs whatever it is that political victories satisfy in others? That he’s just realized that he’s The One and feels duty-bound but also can take it or leave it? My guess: All of the above. Which means either that he’s simply delightful or full of it. Possibly both.

We tend to like entertaining politicians, or we used to before Donald Trump. In some ways, Yang and Trump are similar politicians, except in opposite ways. One light and hopeful, the other dark and brooding.

Both Trump and Yang love the spotlight and know how to please a crowd. In March, Yang donned a hairnet to hand-pull noodles at a Chinatown restaurant. Not even Michael Dukakis would have done that. But Yang, the boyish 46-year-old, thought nothing of it. “They gave it to me,” he explained, “and I put it on.”

While Trump glories in stadiums filled with raucous fans cheering his mean jokes, Yang makes targeted forays into neighborhoods with a BFF vibe. His campaign scrapbook is a collection of everyman vignettes starring Yang riding the Cyclone on Coney Island, shooting hoops, hanging with artists and the “nightlife” people he insists are vital to the city’s revitalization.

But photo-ops don’t win campaigns. And Yang’s inexperience is made more problematic by Trump’s presidency. If nothing else, Trump made clear that governing is hard, and experience is vital. Just because you’ve been an executive outside of government doesn’t mean you can run an executive branch inside of government.

Moreover, it isn’t helpful to winning an election when you’re mainly known as the funny guy. Some of Yang’s antics during the 2020 Democratic primary were amusing (to some of us), such as wearing a MATH ball cap, playing off both Trump’s red MAGA hats and the stereotype of math-smart Asian Americans, which offended many of the latter. Through gaffes and too-quick responses, he’s also managed to irk everyone from Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ organizations to Palestinians.

With just four weeks until the primary, now is probably a good time for Yang to treat voters to his more serious side. Concern about recent attacks on Asian Americans, which he has expressed, is welcome addition to the debate. And while his pledge to give $2,000 to the poorest 500,000 New Yorkers has fleeting PR appeal, it’s not the sort of idea that excites a majority. Still, a penchant for thinking big is a very New York thing.

Then again, maybe Yang isn’t supposed to be mayor (or president). Sometimes a candidate serves a higher purpose as a sort of leavening agent, the way Paulsen did between 1968 and 1996. Everyone knew Paulsen would never win, though some did vote for him. But as a humorous foil to the seriousness of the presidency, he made Americans laugh.

Yang’s boisterous idealism, humor and empathy may be just what the Big Apple needs right now. If he wins, somebody else can keep the trains running.

Kathleen Parker is a columnist for The Washington Post.