Los Angeles is running out of time.
Not metaphorically. Literally. The world is paying us a visit in just two years for the 2028 Summer Olympic Games. If L.A. were a student, we’d be the kid trying to write a final paper at 3 a.m. with a broken printer and no Wi-Fi. The rest of the world won’t grade on a curve.
I’ve spent decades in crisis management and political consulting in this city. I’ve helped elect people, defeat people, and watched City Hall up close long enough to know the difference between spin and reality. I’m also a homeowner, a small business owner, and the father of four young adults trying to build their lives in a city that increasingly feels like it’s daring families to leave.
This mayor’s race should be the most serious civic conversation we’ve had in a generation. Instead, it feels like a Hollywood production where the real actors missed their flight and random extras started improvising.
Councilmember Nithya Raman’s last-second decision to run felt less like a movement and more like finding an empty parking space at The Grove. She endorsed Karen Bass, then jumped in when no serious challenger emerged and there was virtually no downside. Keep the council seat, grab the spotlight. That’s not courage. That’s timing.
Speaking of the Grove, where is Rick Caruso? He spent $100 million trying to become mayor, lost, and then got the political equivalent of a second chance lottery ticket. Suddenly the field cleared, frustration grew, and the opening he spent years chasing was sitting right in front of him. And he still hesitated. He treated a possible run like a movie teaser trailer: coming soon, not coming soon, maybe coming soon. Leadership isn’t a focus group. It isn’t a soft launch. Los Angeles didn’t need suspense marketing. It needed a decision.
And now Spencer Pratt has turned the mayor’s race into the most Los Angeles thing imaginable: a reality star running on outrage, AI videos and social media momentum. Pratt’s rise is telling us something real. He’s tapping into anger City Hall ignores at its own risk. Voters are angry over homelessness, crime, bureaucracy, fires, and the growing feeling that nobody in power is listening. He understands the modern attention economy better than most politicians. Outrage moves. Algorithms reward conflict. And in a city where people feel ignored, being loud can start to look like leadership.
That doesn’t mean it is.
Adam Miller may be the biggest missed opportunity in the race. He has a compelling story, business success, nonprofit work, and the kind of outsider profile Los Angeles always says it wants. He’s put millions into his campaign. So where is it? Where is the argument? Where is the presence? If voters have to Google you to learn you’re running for mayor, that’s a problem. Millions spent and polling at 7%? If you can’t run a visible campaign, it’s fair to ask whether you can run the second-largest city in America.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: things in Los Angeles are not working. Residents feel it in their bones. Small businesses feel it in their margins. Parents feel it when they explain to their kids why they crossed the street to avoid an encampment. City government is so fragmented that no one is ever clearly in charge — which means no one is ever clearly accountable.
People aren’t asking for luxury. They want clean streets and parks. They want enough cops to keep neighborhoods safe. They want people off sidewalks and into housing because living on the street isn’t humane and pretending otherwise helps no one. They want homes their kids can afford and traffic that doesn’t steal hours from their lives.
That’s it. That’s the list. No think tank required.
To be clear, this isn’t an anti–Karen Bass column. She inherited a system designed to frustrate even the most competent executive: commissions, departments, and 15 “mini-mayors” on the City Council overseeing bloated staffs and discretionary budgets. L.A. government often feels like a group project where everybody wants credit and nobody wants responsibility.
At this point, the “wait for somebody better” strategy is off the table. There’s no mystery candidate riding over the hill to write-in. No political unicorn waiting in the Valley.
So, no matter who you support, remember this: the election isn’t the finish line. It’s the starting gun.
L.A. needs real reform. We need a city government that gives the mayor actual power, gives residents a stronger voice, and creates a job serious people actually want to run for.
Because local government is where life actually happens. Washington can scream. Sacramento can posture. But City Hall decides whether the pothole gets fixed, the park gets cleaned, the police show up, and the traffic light works.
We have two years to prove we still know how to run this place.
The world is coming. Somebody should probably be in charge.
John Shallman is an award-winning political media strategist and crisis manager. He is the national bestselling author of Return from Siberia and president of Shallman Communications, a Los Angeles-based public affairs firm.