I watched Zohran Mamdani’s election to be mayor of New York with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was pleased to see a counterpoint to the prevailing political winds that have roiled the waters since Trump got elected; I want democracy to be multi-sided, and it was. On the other hand, I looked at the promises Mamdani made to the voters and felt the usual cynicism bite. Promises are cheap, like so much candy for a childlike electorate.
This is not to say Mamdani is wilfully lying. I am sure he hopes to achieve exactly what he promised. But as many commentators have pointed out, some of these promises are old-style ‘eat-the-rich’ narratives that have shown little success where they have been tried. For instance, his promises about rent control: as soon as you threaten landlords with populist-style aggro, development simply stops, which is of course exactly what you want to avoid.
He promised more: free childcare, free buses, municipal grocery stores (this last one deserves the derision it has attracted; governments have no clue how to run a store efficiently). It’s not that Mamdani’s heart isn’t pure (let’s give him the benefit of the doubt; he seems like a good guy). It’s that arithmetic is cruel. Idealism meets spreadsheets, and the spreadsheets usually win.
One can (and perhaps should) argue that this position is unfair. Politicians have to make promises. But some have a plan in their pocket to achieve their aspirations. The majority don’t. And the voting public, desperate for better lives, are unable or unwilling to tell the difference.
Mamdani is not alone, of course. Every generation produces a new crop of political dreamers armed with slogans that shimmer like utopias. They stride onto podiums, declare war on unfairness, and assure the crowd that the impossible is simply a matter of willpower.
Some of the promises
Take Trump, for instance. Here are some of the promises he made:
‘I will build a great, great wall on our southern border. And I will have Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words.’ (Mexico has paid for nothing and not much of the wall has been built).
‘Under my administration, we will be slashing energy and electricity prices by half within twelve months, at a maximum eighteen months.’ (Uh huh)
‘We will eliminate regulations that drive up housing costs with the goal of cutting the cost of a new home in half.’ (Uh huh again)
‘While working Americans catch up, we’re going to put a temporary cap on credit card interest rates. We can’t let them make 25 and 30%.’ (Never happened.)
‘A vote for Trump means your groceries will be cheaper.’ (They are more expensive.)
‘Starting on day one, we will end inflation.’ (!)
I’ll stop here – the list is very long. But let me not single out Trump. Biden had some whoppers too, like this one, worthy of a stand-up comedy routine. He pledged:
‘(A government) that works for the people – not wealthy special interests, lobbyists or big political donors.’ (haha!)
Across the Atlantic, the architects of Brexit performed their own sleight of hand. Britain would ‘take back control’ and become a liberated trading titan. The NHS, we were told, would receive £350 million a week.
Mired in paperwork
Today, British exporters are mired in paperwork, small businesses complain of red tape, and the promised NHS windfall remains mythical. Yet the campaigners moved on, promoting the idea that freedom – whatever that now means – was its own reward.
Here’s the real cost of this imagined reward – an independent report by Cambridge Econometrics, commissioned by London City Hall, shows London has 290,000 fewer jobs than if Brexit had not taken place, with half the total two million job losses nationwide coming in the financial services and construction sectors, at a total estimated nationwide cost of £140 billion.
Modi in India, Ramaphosa in South Africa, Milei in Argentina, Lula in Brazil. A procession of dreamers, exaggerators, and a couple of liars.
Why do they all do it? Because over-promising is built into the business model of democracy. Political promises are the venture capital of elections – high-risk, high-hype, low-deliverable. A candidate without bold pledges is like a startup without buzz: unfundable. And voters, despite centuries of experience, still fall for it. We don’t reward modesty; we reward grandeur. The sensible politician who says, ‘I’ll improve things by 7%’ loses to the one who shouts, ‘I’ll transform everything forever!’
As a species, we are addicted to the rhetoric of transformation.
Perhaps it’s time for a legal intervention. Imagine a world where campaign promises are binding contracts, and failure to deliver earns you a mandatory stay in the Correctional Facility for Election Campaign Fibbers.
Mamdani might end up there alongside Trump and a few exhausted Brexiters, all assigned to their own ironic work details: Trump mixing cement for his unfinished wall, British MPs filling out customs forms, and Mamdani calculating how to fund free buses from the non-existent taxes of upper-middle-class residents who have fled New York. It would be poetic justice – democracy’s version of community service.
“Aspirational representations”
Not a real proposal, of course, because lawyers would instantly sabotage the idea. They’d argue that campaign promises are “aspirational representations of policy intent,” not contractual obligations, but the notion of ‘Promise Jail’ has appeal.
At the very least, it might make manifestos shorter, slogans humbler, and voters slightly less gullible.
[Image: Wesley Tingey for Unsplash]
The views of the writer are not necessarily the views of the Daily Friend or the IRR.
If you like what you have just read, support the Daily Friend