One can’t help but see a parallel in Governor Gavin Newsom. He possesses that same Bateman-esque sheen: the perfectly coiffed hair, the suit that’s a half-size too sharp, the rehearsed, vacuous charm. He speaks in the smooth, focus-grouped cadence of a man who believes his own press releases, even as the tangible results of his governance—from San Francisco’s streets to the state’s fiscal challenges—tell a very different story. It’s the same chilling disconnect: a performance of competence playing out against a backdrop of managed decline. Where Bateman’s monstrosity was literal, Newsom’s is a political one—a belief that the aesthetic of success is the same thing as success itself.
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