Mayor Lagostein

Oh creature, how you detest me, thy creator.

One of the most popular misconceptions in Western literature is that in the classic Mary Shelley work, Frankenstein, the name that serves as the novel’s title belongs to the monster. In truth, the monster never had a name. Frankenstein was the surname of the protagonist, Dr. Victor Frankenstein, who is both the monster’s creator and, in a manner of speaking, his victim. I mention this because it’s hard to miss the intriguing parallels between Victor Frankenstein and our city’s very own protagonist of sorts, Vicente Lago: a talented and ambitious man who has become haunted by his own creation.

Those of you who follow this newsletter are well aware of the sea change that occurred in Gables politics last April. You know that not only did both of Lago’s preferred candidates lose, they lost to two people who clearly and unreservedly detest him. And you know that behind those candidates is an organized and enlivened cadre of activists that is not only hellbent on destroying the mayor, but on seizing every lever of power at City Hall. But what you may not know, and, indeed, what very few seem to appreciate, is that Lago himself helped bring all this about.

And then Lago said, “Behold my creation, which I shall call the Coral Gables Neighbors Association.”

Take the bizarre but increasingly common notion that if one’s local government is not meeting one’s specific needs at any given moment it is a failed institution, that anything short of bespoke government is corrupt government, and that we the people is merely poetic shorthand for me, myself, and I. Lago may lament this trend today, but he tacitly encouraged it yesterday. In fact, he practically invented it:

• Weekly open-door office hours? Lago popularized that.

• On-demand one-on-one meetings with residents in their own homes and at any hour of the day, no concern too small? Lago again.

• That oak branch that creaked and scared your cat into hiding for three days? Fixed the next day after a quick call to 1-800-Lago.

• The standalone hour of unrestricted public comment during commission meetings, on top of the existing public-comment opportunities for action items? That’s Lago’s handiwork.

I’m sure it all seemed like a good idea once upon a time, a perfectly natural strategy for a veritable virtuoso of retail politics. But what did it get him? What did Lago’s ambitious model of Government-as-a-Service, his overzealous liberalization of public comment policy, and his seemingly limitless availability lead to?

It lead to two of his colleagues accusing him of being deaf or indifferent to the wishes of the residents, of being determined to stifle free speech, and of attempting to abrogate the public’s Maria Cruz’s God-given right to insert herself into every conversation the commission might ever have. And, ultimately, it put him on the losing side of a 4-1 vote in favor of a painfully stupid measure that would, although ever so slightly and mostly symbolically, weaken the office of the mayor. Funny how things work out.

What’s more, he empowered those most determined to destroy him. The most obvious example being none other than Ariel Fernandez. The worst-kept secret in Gables politics (until recently) was the fact that Lago bankrolled Ariel and Gables Insider during his first mayoral campaign. He paid Ariel for his kid-glove treatment, and gave him the access he so desperately needed. Lago, to be sure, played a crucial role in Ariel’s metamorphosis from failed candidate with no political capital into the white knight of the new resistance. Worst of all, even as Ariel was clearly gaining steam in the race, Lago refused to take him seriously. Had he acknowledged Ariel’s strength sooner, he probably would have been able to drive enough turnout to stop him. Instead he lulled his own supporters into irreversible complacency by obstinately scoffing at Ariel’s chances.

Then-candidate Lago meets with senior campaign staff over a meal back in 2021 (Ariel Fernandez, reaching for a dinner roll, pictured far left.)

Then there is Maria Cruz, another erstwhile ally now passionately committed to Lago’s demise. Instead of keeping her at arm’s length and allowing her to buzz about the periphery of city hall like the annoying but ultimately harmless gadfly she had always been, Lago welcomed Cruz into his sphere of influence, appointed her to his newly minted Mayor’s Advisory Board, and blandished her publicly as though she were Gables royalty. He endlessly flattered her, deferred to her, and elevated her, all so that she could one day sit in the back row of commission chambers and glare at him before taking the podium to rant and grouse and scold and dance on the professional grave of freshly resigned city employees as her keepers on the dais smirk with approval.

Throwback photo of Vince Lago posing with Maria Cruz at his first fundraiser.

These are but two specimens from the veritable den of vipers Lago has set loose in and around City Hall. It’s as if he has some obsessive need to domesticate dangerous creatures, like the kid who goes to the pet store and instead of picking a puppy or a kitten comes home with a scorpion. Then again, it makes sense when you consider just how innately upbeat and optimistic Lago is, and how that might imbue him with charisma but cloud his judgment. It’s as if, in his mind, there is no force he cannot tame, no beast he cannot control.

Hence the similarities to Frankenstein, a story about the mortal danger of violating laws of nature, about hubris and folly and reaping what you sow. It is said that power corrupts, but more often than not it merely blinds, and much of Lago’s troubles stem from what he couldn’t see. He couldn’t see the obvious danger he was courting by cuddling up to known predators, by seeking to tame those who could not be tamed. He couldn’t see that there is no point in trying to please the perpetually aggrieved, that there are some people who are simply not happy unless they are unhappy.

And he failed to see the danger in shrinking and over-personalizing his office, by offering himself up as a universal solution that could be delivered to a resident's doorstep like an Amazon package. Vince Lago, the first mayor in the land to be included with Prime. Of course, there is a limit to a politician’s availability and a cap on how many picayune problems he can solve in a day, and so it would seem Lago committed the double mistake of overestimating his capacity for personalized problem solving while simultaneously underestimating how much resentment that would breed amongst those he didn’t help. Hell hath no fury like a needy resident scorned.

Moreover, he compounded that danger by undermining the normal and necessary checks on excessive public input, and in so doing gifted his adversaries the perfect platform from which to attack him. Indeed, if the barbarians were never at the gates it’s only because Lago tore the gates down and invited the barbarians in.

I don’t know Lago very well, but I do like him. I like that he wears his heart on his sleeve—it makes him easier to read. And the read I get from him lately is one of regret and even a hint of culpability on his part. This is good, as one must acknowledge an error before one can fix it.

The happy news for Vince Lago is that he is still Vince Lago, and as eager as some are to foretell his demise, the fact remains that he has been a successful mayor and is much stronger politically than his enemies and allies alike. No one on that dais has the resumé, war chest, connections, and loyal base that Lago has—not even close. And as much as his detractors would like to wishcast the last election into being the result of an idealogical shift, the only thing April showed was how large a hole Lago leaves in voter turnout when he is not on the ballot.

One thing is for sure, Gables politics is a story that is always being written. Today it is Lago who plays the role of Dr. Frankenstein, but tomorrow is another day and another chapter, and if those around the mayor are not careful, if his enemies press too hard or his allies grow too soft, they may discover one day soon that they, too, have created a monster.