Welcome in everyone. If you are tuning in right
now, it means You're ready for a custom -tailored
deep dive. And we really have an incredible one
lined up for you today. We absolutely do. We
are taking a magnifying glass to the surprisingly
dramatic, intensely strategic, and occasionally
completely chaotic 170 -year history of California's
representation in the United States Senate. Right,
because I think government history often gets
a bad rap. People tend to assume it's just, you
know, a dry list of names, dates, maybe some
dusty black and white portraits. hanging in a
hallway somewhere. Yeah, totally. But the source
material we're digging into today paints a radically
different, much more human picture of all of
this. It really does. So for context, our source
today is a comprehensive data set documenting
every single U .S. senator from California. Every
single one. Right. We're looking at a timeline
that stretches from the very moment the state
was admitted to the union all the way back in
1850, carrying us straight through to the modern
political landscape of 2026. It is a massive
roster. 48. 48 different individuals who have
held these two incredibly powerful seats. Okay,
let's unpack this. I was scrolling through this
list of 48 senators, and it immediately became
clear that this isn't just a basic timeline.
No, not at all. It reads way more like a record
of political maneuvering, raw ambition, and just
sudden twists of fate. Yeah, and to understand
just how wild this journey actually is, you have
to look right at the beginning of the data set.
The 1850s. Exactly. California officially becomes
a state on September 9, 1850. Right out of the
gate, they send two men to Washington, John C.
Fremont and William M. Gwynn. The state's very
first senators. Right. But immediately after
that initial milestone, the data shows the wheels
just completely falling off the wagon. I noticed
that. I was looking at the timeline. And in the
very next year, starting in March of 1851, there's
just there's a blank space in the data. The text
for that period simply reads, legislature failed
to elect. And it is not a tiny clerical error
or a short hiccup either. That vacancy lasted
until January of 1852. Almost a full year. And
then scrolling down just a bit further, it happens
again. Yeah. From March 1855 to January 1857,
another massive gap. What is going on here? How
does a brand new state just forget to send someone
to the Senate for two whole years? Well, it wasn't
forgetfulness. It was total gridlock. That blank
space perfectly reflects the profound instability
of that specific era. You have to picture the
mechanics of how senators were chosen back in
the 1850s. Right. They weren't publicly elected
yet. Exactly. They were not elected by the general
public going to a ballot box. They were chosen
directly by the state legislature. So if the
local politicians sitting in Sacramento could
not reach a consensus on who to send to Washington,
the seat simply sat empty. That is wild. Imagine
being a citizen living in California at that
time. You're part of this new boom. It's a stark
reminder for anyone listening today that the
smooth operation of government is never a guarantee.
The machinery can, and historically has, simply
ground to a halt. Yeah. And beyond the sheer
mechanics of keeping those seats filled, I was
totally struck by the political identities of
the people they were actually sending. Oh, the
party affiliations? Yes. Today, you and I are
so used to seeing either a D for Democrat or
an R for Republican next to a politician's name,
it feels entirely permanent. But looking at the
mid to late 1800s in this data set, the party
affiliations are wonderfully diverse. The two
-party system as we strictly know it today was
a lot more fluid in the 19th century, particularly
during and immediately after the American Civil
War. I see a senator here in 1863 named John
Connis, and his party affiliation is listed simply
as the Union Party. Right. A few years later,
in 1867, Cornelius Cole takes office representing
the National Union Party. And then there's my
absolute favorite find on this entire list. Let
me guess. In 1875, a man named Newton Booth is
elected to the United States Senate representing
the Anti -Monopoly Party. There is. He served
all the way until 1881 under that specific banner.
I have to admit, I had never even heard of the
Anti -Monopoly Party. What was happening in California
that created an entire political movement just
for that? What's fascinating here is how these
forgotten third parties provide a perfect snapshot
of the specific anxieties dominating Californian
politics at the time. The existential threats.
Exactly. The union and national union labels
obviously reflect the overarching crisis of the
Civil War and the desperate drive to hold a fractured
country together. But Newton Booth and the anti
-monopoly party tell a different story. A more
economic one. Right. That tells you exactly what
the average citizen in California was dealing
with in the 1870s. The overwhelming, completely
unchecked power of the railroads and massive
corporate trusts. It's like looking at a historical
fossil that shows exactly what people were afraid
of back then. The citizenry was so deeply concerned
about corporate monopolies controlling their
economy, their land and really their daily lives
that an entirely separate political party was
formed around that single issue. And it worked.
It wasn't just a fringe movement. It was successful
enough to send a man to the United States Senate
to wield federal power for six years. That really
grounds you in the realities era. But moving
forward through the timeline, another major theme
jumps off the page. Time and again, This specific
Senate seat is treated less like a final career
destination and more like a stepping stone. Yes.
The upward mobility factor. Exactly. So many
of these politicians use their time representing
California as a springboard for something else.
Well. A Senate seat from a state as geographically
large and economically powerful as California
brings an enormous amount of national visibility.
It naturally functions as a launching pad for
higher ambitions. I'm seeing several massive
historical names in this data set who cut their
Senate term short to move up the ladder. Like
in 1953, Richard Nixon resigned from his Senate
seat because he had just been elected vice president
of the United States. Right. And fast forward
decades later and history repeats itself almost
exactly. In January 2021, Kamala Harris resigned
from her Senate seat to become vice president.
A very clear pattern. But it's not always about
climbing the federal ladder, which is interesting.
I noticed Pete Wilson resigned from the Senate
in 1991. The data says he left because he was
elected governor of California. Why would someone
give up a U .S. Senate seat to go back to state
level politics? That decision reveals a lot about
the perceived power dynamic between Washington,
D .C. and Sacramento. How so? For some politicians,
wielding direct executive power over the state
of California, which operates essentially as
its own massive global economy, is vastly more
appealing than being just one of 100 legislative
voices in the U .S. Senate. Right, because as
a governor, you are the chief executive. Exactly.
In the Senate, you're a negotiator. As governor,
you run the show. Here's where it gets really
interesting. Looking at that intersection of
governors in the Senate, there is a wildly unique
case in the data set from 1917 involving a man
named Hiram Johnson. Ah, yes. Hiram Johnson.
The data shows he was elected to the Senate in
1916. His federal term was officially supposed
to start on March 4th, 1917, but he purposely
wasn't seated until March 16. The note here says
he delayed it because he was the sitting governor
of California. It was essentially a massive political
flex. Just delaying his own start date. He had
already secured his promotion to the federal
level. The voters had given him the Senate seat,
but he actively dragged his feet and delayed
taking the oath of office in Washington. He did
it just to keep his hands on the governor's levers
of power in Sacramento for a few extra days.
That is incredible. It highlights how personal
ambition and the strategic hoarding of authority
play just as much of a role in this history as
the actual elections do. Not every Senate term
ends with a calculated resignation or a strategic
promotion, though. Scrolling through the older
data, there's a much darker reason for these
abrupt transitions. The mortality rate. Yes.
I was surprised by how many of these terms just
end abruptly with the word died. listed next
to the politician's name. Did this happen a lot?
The mortality rate for this office, especially
in the earlier eras of the state's history, is
incredibly notable. While some senators gracefully
retired or moved on, a surprising number of these
terms were cut short by sheer human fragility.
It's a surprisingly long list when you look at
it all together. David C. Broderick died in office
in 1859. John Franklin Miller died in 1886. George
Hearst as well. Right. George Hearst, who is
a massive name in California history, died in
office in 1891. Jumping ahead to the 20th century,
Claire Engel passed away in 1964. And the data
set brings us right up to the modern era, noting
the death of Dianne Feinstein in 2023. Whenever
one of these sudden exits happens, it sends an
absolute shockwave through the system. Despite
all the careful political strategy, the expensive
campaigning and the rigid constitutional frameworks,
the entire apparatus is still run by mortal human
beings who are vulnerable to sudden illness.
Which changes the whole board instantly. When
a tragedy like that strikes, the machinery of
government has to scramble immediately to fill
the void and maintain representation. That scramble
to fill the void is actually a perfect bridge.
To the modern era of this data set. Because when
you look at the current landscape of the California
delegation, there is a massive trend regarding
how these seats are filled today compared to
the 1800s. The appointment process. Exactly.
I am looking at the two current senators representing
California right now, Alex Padilla and Adam Schiff.
And neither of them originally arrived in the
Senate by winning a standard full term general
election first. You are touching on the modern
power of the gubernatorial appointment. It has
become a defining feature of California's recent
Senate history. Alex Padilla was initially appointed
to the Senate to take over Kamala Harris's seat
when she left for the vice presidency. He served
out the remainder of her term and then successfully
won his own full election in 2022. And Schiff's
trajectory is remarkably similar. Adam Schiff
followed a very similar path. The data shows
that after Dianne Feinstein passed away and LaFonza
Butler served a brief appointment, Governor Gavin
Newsom appointed Adam Schiff in 2024 to complete
that remaining term, literally just ahead of
Schiff's full elected service beginning. This
trend underscores the immense unilateral authority
vested in the governor of California. Because
U .S. Senate terms are six years long, any disruption
during that window gives the sitting governor
the power to single -handedly handpick a United
States senator. That is a staggering amount of
power for one person. In recent years, that appointment
power has effectively served as the primary gateway
to the Senate for California. The subsequent
general elections almost act as a voter confirmation
of the governor's initial appointment. Before
we move on from the current delegation, the source
material does something really helpful. It zooms
out to give us the broader congressional picture,
listing the state's entire current delegation
for the House of Representatives alongside the
two senators. The contrast is almost jarring.
How so? In the Senate, California has exactly
two seats, and currently both Padilla and Schiff
are Democrats. From that angle, the state looks
entirely politically unified. But then you look
at the House delegation, and it is a massive
52 -person list. Which is to be expected, given
that House representation is apportioned by population
and California remains the most populous state
in the union. Right. But when you look at the
actual names on that 52 person list, you realize
California is absolutely not a monolith. Now,
we're just reporting what's in the data here,
but it lists high profile Democrats like Nancy
Pelosi and Maxine Waters representing specific
districts. But right alongside them in the exact
same state delegation, you have Republicans like
Kevin Kiley and David Valadao representing entirely
different constituencies. It is an excellent
reminder of the mechanical difference between
the two chambers. Winning a Senate seat requires
capturing a statewide majority, aggregating the
votes of millions of people across varied regions.
Which smooths out the local differences. Exactly.
Recently, that statewide math has favored one
party. But the state itself is geographically
and politically vast. The House delegation reflects
the highly localized, street -by -street political
reality of California. Well, the Senate is more
of an average. The Senate delegation reflects
the broader consensus. They're essentially two
different mirrors reflecting the exact same population,
providing very different pictures. So what does
this all mean? We've talked about the chaos of
empty seats, the ambition of stepping stones,
the tragedy of sudden mortality, and the raw
power of executive appointments. But as I was
combing through the modern data, a very specific,
almost bizarre strategic quirk kept popping up
over and over again. I know exactly what you're
talking about. It is a tactical maneuver that
seems to be entirely about manipulating the internal
rules of the Senate. You have zeroed in on the
phenomenon of the strategic early resignation.
This is one of the most inside baseball, yet
incredibly impactful tactics revealed in the
entire dataset. I couldn't believe it when I
started noticing the pattern. You look at the
timeline and suddenly you start seeing all these
senators resigning just days before their terms
are officially supposed to end. Let's trace the
chain. It starts in 1964. Claire Engel dies in
office. A man named Pierre Salinger is appointed
to finish the term. But then Salinger loses his
election for a full term. Instead of just finishing
out his final weeks, he resigns early on December
31st, 1964. The data set explicitly states he
did this to give successor preferential seniority.
That phrase preferential seniority carries massive
weight in the context of Washington. It literally
becomes a tradition. George Murphy. the guy who
beat Salinger, ends up losing his own reelection
bid a few years later. He resigns early in 1971
to give his successor preferential seniority.
It keeps going. John D. Tunney loses his reelection.
He resigns early in 1977 for the exact same reason.
And we literally just saw this happen again.
The data notes that LaFonza Butler retired and
then resigned early in December 2024 to give
Adam Schiff preferential seniority. What does
this actually do? Why does a few days make such
a difference? If we connect this to the bigger
picture, This recurring pattern illuminates something
fundamental about how the United States Senate
actually operates behind closed doors. The Senate
is a body completely governed by strict, largely
unwritten rules of hierarchy. So it's all about
rank. Seniority dictates almost everything of
value in that building. It determines what committees
you get to sit on, whether you get to chair those
committees, the quality of your physical office
space, and your overall influence in drafting
legislation. It's like a rigid corporate ladder,
but with national legislation at stake. Exactly
like a corporate ladder. By resigning just a
few days or weeks early in late December, the
outgoing senator allows the incoming senator
to be sworn in and officially begin their tenure
before the massive freshman class of new senators
arrives in January. Wow. That tiny head start,
sometimes literally just a matter of days, bumps
that incoming California senator slightly higher
up the seniority list for the rest of their career.
It is mind blowing to me that so much institutional
power can hinge on a technicality of a few days
on the calendar. We have gone from the 1850s,
where the state legislature literally forgot
or failed to elect a senator for two full years,
to the modern era, where politicians are choreographing
their resignations down to the week to maximize
bureaucratic leverage. It is a profound evolution
in how the game of politics is played. We have
really covered some incredible ground today.
From the days of the anti -monopoly party and
wild vacancies in the 1850s, through the tragedy
of sudden deaths and the ambition of vice presidential
hopefuls, all the way to the highly tactical
maneuvers of preferential security and gubernatorial
appointments. That's a lot to take in. For you
listening right now, it is so important to realize
that this seemingly dry history of government
seats is actually a vibrant 170 -year -old relay
race. It's a race full of strategy, sudden stops,
and calculated handoffs that directly shape the
actual laws you live under today. Every single
one of those 48 names left a fingerprint on the
country. This raises an important question, though.
There is a specific detail in our source material
that we haven't touched on yet, but one that
completely underpins this entire 170 -year relay
race. Wait, I thought we covered the whole timeline.
What did we miss? The concept of the Senate's
staggered classes. If you look at the very beginning
of the text, it carefully notes that California
elects its senators to Class 1 and Class 3. It
mentions that the Class 1 seat was just contested
in 2024, and the next election for that seat
isn't until 2030. Meanwhile, the Class 3 seat
isn't up for election until 2028. I saw those
labels in the data, but I wasn't entirely sure
what a class meant in this context. The entire
United States Senate is divided into three classes.
This means that only one third of the Senate
is ever up for reelection during any given two
year election cycle. I want you to mull over
why the founding fathers designed the system
this way. To prevent too much turnover at once.
By forcing states to stagger their Senate elections,
placing their two seats in different classes,
the system guarantees that a state's entire representation
can never be wiped out or replaced in a single
election year. So no matter how angry the voters
get in one specific year, they can only ever
change half of their Senate delegation at a time.
Precisely. It forces a slow, deliberate political
evolution rather than allowing for an overnight
revolution. It was intentionally designed to
act as a shock absorber for history, cooling
the passions of the moment. That makes perfect
sense. When you look back at all the chaos we've
discussed today, the gridlock, the sudden deaths,
the third party uprisings, you have to wonder.
Did the founders get it exactly right by forcing
that slow pace? That is a phenomenal thought
to end on. A system designed from the very beginning
to absorb the shock of human unpredictability.
We hope you enjoyed this deep dive into the hidden
machinery of California's political past and
present. Thank you so much for joining us. And
as always, stay curious. We will catch you on
the next deep dive.