By the Numbers: Exclusive Poll Reveals April Election Landscape

Last week, I was invited along with a small group of Gables residents to review fresh polling data for the upcoming April election. Christmas has come a bit early this year, it would seem, not just for me, but for us all. Raise your hand if you’re ready to dig into some data! 🖐🖐🖐🖐

But before we do that, a couple of observations. In my experience, groups that can afford quality polling are typically loath to even admit that data exists much less share it via the functional equivalent of a press gaggle. If information is power, information asymmetry is almighty, and so this information strategy is certainly unorthodox. Then again, I am only at liberty to share what one could call non-actionable data points—data the opposition cannot practically use to calibrate their political strategies in any specific and meaningful way. This robust and comprehensive poll unearthed a trove of issue- and policy-oriented data, none of which I will share or comment on except to say that they aren’t good for KFC.

Moreover, given the volume and intensity of the batshit rumors coming out of the KFC spin factory—e.g., that Lago and Anderson are upside down and that Kirk is a favorite in a hypothetical mayor's race (apologies if that last part made you spit out your coffee)—I can see the method to the madness here. What most of you don't know is that on the eve of virtually every commission meeting, KFC likes to “leak” some allegedly hot, but invariably false, anti-Lago or anti-Anderson rumor. During the recall, these rumors typically featured some variation of Lago being on the verge of being arrested, usually by the FBI, at the upcoming commission meeting (interestingly enough, it's the people behind the recall who are actually at risk of arrest). Lately, they've shifted toward election-oriented gossip, as evidenced by the Kirk fantasy above. For better or worse, most residents don't follow the inside baseball of Gables politics and are therefore at risk of meeting these rumors with a tad too much credulity. So you can understand how some might want to administer a potent reality check by sharing some hot polling data.

Now for the elephant in the room: trust. How can you be confident the data are legit? Let's start with the fact that we know this poll actually happened. Statistically speaking, some of you reading this not only were contacted but also participated in it. I personally encountered it in the wild, as did Ariel, apparently. Word has it he rushed out his own survey around the same time with suspiciously similarly worded questions. Unfortunately for him, given the, shall we say, questionable scientific rigor of a sloppy SurveyMonkey e-blast sent indiscriminately to thousands of people, the most useful thing he can do with the results of his home-brewed “poll” is wipe his rear end—so long as he prints it all on legal size paper, of course.

Then there are the data, which, naturally, I would never trust without first looking under the hood. What I found was a professionally administered N=252 poll that ran over a one-week period in mid November by a veteran pollster with ties to an elite Washington-based consulting firm. Having reviewed the extensive crosstabs myself, I can confirm the internal numbers align perfectly with known demographic and voting patterns in the Gables. I can also tell you with absolute certainty that there is simply no way that this pollster, whom I have worked with and who personally attests to the veracity of this data, would risk his professional reputation by vouching for false or manipulated data. I’ve been to enough rodeos to know, my friends, that you can take what you are about to see to the bank. I’ll stake my own reputation on it.

And so, without further ado, here is what I can share:

Lago’s approval rating remains at 2021 levels; Anderson also strong:

Despite (or more accurately, I think, somewhat because of) the endless rumor mongering, incessant smear attacks, persistently negative coverage by the Miami Herald, serving as Ariel's bête noire and KFC's final boss, plus a well-funded (albeit law-breaking) recall campaign, Vince Lago maintains a job approval rating equal to, if not slightly higher than, what he enjoyed during his first mayoral race—which, remember, he won in a landslide and against an opponent with high name I.D., decent favorables, and an actual legislative record to run on. Residents, it seems, care more about concrete achievements than contrived controversies.

For context: an approval rating above 50% is considered “strong," while anything exceeding 60% ventures into "very strong" territory. At 62%, Lago's job approval more than doubles his disapproval—the kind of ratio politicians dream about.

Additionally, besides enjoying the highest job approval rating among the commission, Lago has the highest total favorability rating as well—though Anderson is right there with him and actually boasts a slightly higher net favorability rating (favorable minus unfavorable). Interestingly, but unsurprisingly, Anderson's unfavorables are about as low as we've seen for a member of the commission since Cason in his early years. More notably, Lago's “never heard of” score (respondents claiming no familiarity with him) is roughly half that of anyone else on the commission. This is crucial for Lago since what one might call the conversion problem—where net favorability tends to decrease as name I.D. increases thanks to the relative stickiness of negative information—is practically a non-factor for him. He's a known commodity, which limits his downside across a crucial dimension.

This helps explain why I kept emphasizing the double-edged nature of the mayoral recall campaign: when you take that kind of shot at a politician, you better not miss, because failure inevitably puts wind in their sails. Indeed, they threw the kitchen sink at Lago, failed spectacularly (largely because their allegations were demonstrably and ridiculously false), and now not only are they out of ammunition, they've helped make him more popular and recognizable than ever. See Donald Trump for the most palpable example of this effect.

The commission’s approval rating is officially underwater and the City is viewed as being on the “wrong track:”

In stark contrast to Lago and Anderson's strong individual ratings, the commission's overall job approval is officially (albeit slightly) underwater, while a plurality of residents see the city as being on the wrong track.

For those disapproving of the current commission, "dysfunction and infighting" tops the list of grievances. And since Lago and Anderson outperform the commission as a whole by double digits, it doesn't take a detective to figure out where—or with whom—the blame lies. Turns out residents aren't the fools some take them for; they know exactly where that strong stench of cat piss is coming from. This vindicates what I wrote oh so many moons ago:

But, really, the rest of us shouldn't be surprised. What we did in April was the equivalent of taking in two feral cats from underneath the broken-down 1992 Buick LeSabre parked in front of the dilapidated house across the street only to wake up the next day and wonder why our curtains are shredded and our entire home suddenly reeks of cat piss. Hello, McFly!

—Dysfunction by Design, November 2023

As for that "wrong track" number—it's typically a death sentence for incumbents, or more broadly, whoever residents perceive as steering the city. Thanks to KFC's misguided habit of flaunting their unopposed control over City Hall (and as you'll see from their individual numbers below), residents have a pretty clear idea of who's responsible for driving the Gables off course.

Ariel is soft:

Having been around the block a few times, I know to take these numbers in context. Still, I can't help but feel a twinge of surprise, even dismay, seeing Ariel come in with a net positive favorability rating. After all his antics, there's a primal part of my brain that thinks any score above zero for this narcissistic imbecile means Gables has lost its collective mind.

But then experience (and basic logic) kicks in, and mercifully, it becomes clear that these numbers are remarkably soft and portend difficult times ahead for Ariel and the rest of KFC. As the leader of the troika, Ariel's single-digit net positive, coming only halfway into his first term to boot, means he’s providing some awfully short coattails for the other two to ride. Worse still, his surprisingly high "never heard of" score of 28% suggests he may face a conversion problem as his tenure progresses. And what exactly will those who've never heard of Ariel learn when they finally discover he exists? The 102% pay raises, his aversion to higher voter participation, responsibility for the Aimless Amos debacle, and an utter lack of material accomplishments as commissioner. For a freshman commissioner with somewhat low name I.D., Ariel's net favorability should be at least double its current level. To compound matters, that's almost exactly where it stood approximately one year ago.

Dr. Castro is upside down:

What can I say? She is fantastically dumb, clearly running a racket between her permit expediting business and the building department, and has lately taken to conducting herself more like a social media influencer for the police and fire unions than an actual commissioner.

To the extent these factors don't fully explain why Dr. Castro is polling roughly 10 points behind her allies, the missing piece likely lies in her eagerness to serve as Ariel's meat shield. Yes, KFC is a Borg collective—everything they do they do as one. But even collectives need someone to act as the tip of the spear, and when it comes to KFC, Dr. Castro invariably draws the short straw. How many times have we seen her serve as the lead advocate for KFC's least popular initiatives? How many times have we watched her carry water on losing issues, reading from scripts we know she didn't write, while Ariel sits two seats away twiddling his thumbs?

There's no doubt that Dr. Castro has spent the majority of the past two years doing Ariel's bidding, serving as his all-too-literal useful idiot, and wouldn't you know it, she now finds herself with numbers that put her in recall territory (although I still recommend against it in the absence of a bombshell). It's almost as if one could see this coming all along:

Which is why I think Castro’s fairytale could take a fairly dark turn and morph into a cautionary tale of a different kind, into that familiar allegory that warns against greed, hubris, and making deals with the devil. A ruthless man possessed like Ariel is not going to share the fruit of his life’s labor out of the kindness of his heart, he is going to expect something meaningful in return. That something could be a reliable second vote, the occasional bellyflop onto a political grenade, or unwittingly playing the role of permanent patsy. It could be all of that, in fact, but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is whether Castro has the will or ability to hold up her end of the bargain.

— The Picture of Melissa Castro (Part 1), June 2023

Kamikaze Kirk has lost his mind:

Kirk's situation is the most dire. His net favorability, barely clinging to positive territory in the low single digits, trails even Ariel's modest numbers. More troubling, despite being an incumbent, despite all the free ice cream and movies, despite carefully cultivating an image as Coral Gables' favorite son, Kirk's "never heard of" score somehow exceeds Ariel's. Save for Dr. Castro, he has the lowest name I.D. on the commission. Like Ariel, he faces a conversion problem—but unlike Ariel, Kirk's problem is immediate. He's heading into a reelection fight carrying a host of serious liabilities, facing a highly popular mayor who's polling at more than twice his numbers, and doing so in an environment vastly more hostile than anything he's experienced.

It makes you wonder: is Kirk’s decision to challenge Lago really an elaborate act of political sacrifice orchestrated by Ariel and his allies? It certainly feels that way. After all, before Kirk announced his mayoral bid, I was prepared to share polling data showing his race against Lara within the margin of error—despite Lara's relatively low name I.D.

Let that sink in: for an incumbent like Kirk to be statistically tied with someone roughly two-thirds of the city has never heard of is absolutely astonishing. Kirk should be up by 20 points at this stage. The fact that he's deadlocked with a relative unknown suggests his real problem is deep-seated anti-Kirk sentiment—a liability that appears insurmountable in a head-to-head race. One can't help but suspect Ariel and company have filled Kirk's head with mayoral fantasies simply to clear the path for a more favorable matchup against Lara.

Think about that calculus for a moment. If you're Ariel, and you know Lago is virtually unbeatable, while Kirk is carrying enough baggage to sink his reelection chances, wouldn't you jump at the chance to use Kirk as a human grenade against Lago? After all, if Kirk is likely to lose anyway, why not deploy him to inflict maximum damage on Lago while simultaneously clearing his seat for a fresh face who might fare better against Lara? It's politically ruthless, sure, but the logic is almost elegant.

In any event, the numbers paint a crystal clear picture: Kirk (henceforth Kamikaze Kirk) is trading what would already be an uphill battle for his commission seat for what amounts to political suicide against Lago. When you're polling neck-and-neck with a relative unknown gunning for your own seat, yet choose to challenge a mayor with favorables that more than double yours, you've either lost touch with reality or you're a tragically impressionable lamb being led to the slaughter. Either way, it's a fitting end to the KFC experiment—a cautionary tale of political hubris that apparently needed one final act of self-destruction to drive the point home.