A 35 year-old independent pulled off the most epic victory of 2016 in Alaska (Part I)
If there is any silver lining to the divisive 2016 election, his name is Jason Grenn. When I first spoke to him earlier this week, I instantly knew his story was worth sharing far and wide.
But he didn’t much like that idea.
“I’m sheepish to draw attention,” the newly elected State Representative from Anchorage, Alaska told me. “I’m just a normal person with a family. I didn’t run because of ego. I ran to help fix the budget.”
Humble he is. Perhaps because the 35 year-old Grenn hasn’t fully come to appreciate how, having just pulled off one of the biggest electoral upsets of the cycle as a first-time independent candidate, he is positioned to be an influential force in Juneau and an early sign of what may come in American politics during an era of profound political dissatisfaction.
A lifelong Republican voter and volunteer who felt left behind by a rightward-marching party, Grenn tossed out his affiliation when he decided to run for office earlier this year. Now, as an independent legislator, he’s allied himself with one other independent and three moderate Republicans in the State House to flip the balance of power from GOP control for the first time in more than 20 years to a new, bipartisan governing coalition.
The vibrations you feel below you are the aftershocks of the political earthquake that was triggered when this coalition was announced last month in Alaska –– a state that elected a hybrid Republican-turned-independent Governor and Democratic Lieutenant Governor in 2014 and saw a strong challenge by independent Margaret Stock for US Senate this year.
The Last Frontier state is quickly becoming the new frontier in American politics by demonstrating how independent candidates can not only win office but also exercise disproportionate influence once in government.
In this context, Grenn’s election presents an important lens to understand the latent independent political movement to come.
An 11th Hour Decision
For the past year, as an active leader on his town’s community council, Grenn heard complaint after complaint about how unresponsive his State Representative, Republican Liz Vazquez, was to her constituents.
Already concerned about Alaska’s historic budget crisis and frustrated at both parties’ failure to address it in their last legislative session, Grenn began encouraging friends and neighbors to challenge Vasquez in the next election.
“She was part of the group that didn’t do anything to help the budget, and she was running unopposed,” he explained to me. “If you love democracy, seeing someone run for office unopposed is just the worst thing.”
Despite his recruitment efforts, no candidate stepped forward. So on the June 1 filing deadline, he sat in the parking lot of the Division of Elections, contemplating a run himself. He called his wife to talk through the process and what it would mean for their family.
It was 4pm; the office closed in an hour.
“It wasn’t an easy decision,” he recalled. “I would need to leave my job at the non-profit where I worked. I have a mortgage and three small kids.”
With his wife’s blessing, he decided to file his paperwork. It was that important. But why run an uphill campaign as an independent?
“I didn’t want to be put in a box. I wanted to have conversations and start from a blank slate,” he said, describing himself as more socially liberal and fiscally conservative.
For example, he opposes recent efforts to restrict sex education in Alaska schools and supports an oil tax structure set up by the state’s previous Republican governor.
Running as an independent came with its pros and cons.
On one hand, he started from scratch without any party infrastructure or funding. “I would have had a website on day 2 instead of day 30 if I had some more support,” he mused. It was also challenging for people involved in one party or another to declare their support publicly for fear of retribution.
On the other hand, he found he could have honest conversations with virtually every voter without the barrier of a party label. As Grenn explained to the Alaska Commons:
“When I show up at the door, you don’t know anything about me. I’m an independent. So, you start asking questions. And all of a sudden, whoa! Look! Common ground! We line up on this issue, or maybe not so much that one, but maybe on this one. I can find common ground with any age, any gender, any race, anything, because we talk.”
He knocked plenty of doors, several hours a day, every day — some 5,000 total. He hand-wrote another 1,500 postcards for those he missed. Through his grassroots campaign, Grenn wound up raising more than the incumbent and spent $65,000. Some of those resources were dedicated to a bright, mid-twenties campaign manager who guided Grenn through the process.
One of Grenn’s largest political advantages was that his Democratic opponent unexpectedly dropped out of the race. Most Democrats in the district would never vote for a Republican, but they would keep an open mind for Grenn. These voters, along with the district’s plurality of independents, provided an initial base of support.
“I never slept. I ate leftovers. I drank coffee 24/7,” he told the Alaska Dispatch News.
On Election Day, the solidly red District 22 voted for Donald Trump and every other Republican on the ballot…except for State House. Grenn ousted the Republican incumbent by 186 votes, out of a total 7,666 cast.
Looking back, he observed, “There was a huge ‘throw the bums out’ feeling. Politicians weren’t getting the job done because of partisanship. That was the overarching mentality.”
