By Ruth Ferguson and Adrianna Zhang<\/p>\n
San Francisco stands for progress. But our city charter stands for something else: a policy that lets termed-out politicians wait in the wings and reclaim their seats, again and again.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Under current rules, an elected official can serve two terms, sit out one term, then run again for two more \u2014 indefinitely. There is no cap on how many times someone can play this game.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But there\u2019s a simple fix. We\u2019re launching a petition (opens in new tab)<\/a> calling on the Board of Supervisors and the mayor to place a measure on the June ballot that would end this boomerang provision.<\/p>\n Former Supervisor Aaron Peskin used this tactic to remain in power for 16 of 20 years before he termed out (for the second time) in 2024. He is free to run again in 2028. Former Supervisor John Avalos tried the same tactic in 2020 and failed. Now, Michela Alioto-Pier, who spent eight years as supervisor, has formed a campaign committee to run again in 2026.\u00a0<\/p>\n These candidates aren\u2019t doing anything wrong \u2014 their choices reflect the system\u2019s incentives. But this isn\u2019t a technicality. It fundamentally undermines the purpose of term limits and creates a suffocating effect for young, aspiring candidates.<\/p>\n In 1994, San Franciscans passed Proposition L (opens in new tab)<\/a>, establishing a nonpartisan elections task force to improve governance and accountability. This led to Proposition G (opens in new tab)<\/a> in 1996, which established term limits that were implemented after the 2000 election, with support from 57% of voters.<\/p>\n Term limits were passed to promote renewal and accountability \u2014 not to reinforce a revolving door for the same people and ideas.<\/p>\n Term limits apply only to consecutive terms within a district, so an incumbent can sit out one term or run for a different office before returning. This means termed-out officials can maintain political influence \u2014 name recognition, donor networks, institutional power \u2014 while technically being out of office.<\/p>\n Powerful political networks tend to back candidates whose voting records reliably align with their priorities. Meanwhile, reform-motivated candidates are sidelined for fear they might disrupt power structures.\u00a0<\/p>\n Thanks to this policy, political participation in San Francisco is effectively rationed, and new leaders are told that their role is to support \u2014 not shape \u2014 the future of their communities. This makes it even harder for young lawmakers\u201a especially women, who don\u2019t have established networks. <\/p>\n Is it any wonder young people\u2019s participation in the electoral process continues to decline (opens in new tab)<\/a>, and voters feel their voices are being ignored (opens in new tab)<\/a>? In San Francisco, the average age of a mayor entering office is 51; for supervisors, it\u2019s 50. In 175 years, we\u2019ve had only two women mayors, and just 6.5% of our 600 supervisors have been women.<\/p>\n Some argue that if voters keep electing the same people, it\u2019s democracy at work. But this ignores the real impact of power and money in politics. San Francisco\u2019s term-limit loophole doesn\u2019t test whether voters want new ideas; it tests whether newcomers can outspend the establishment. They usually can\u2019t. Past office-holders who enjoy the advantages of name recognition, political alliances, and friendly donors will almost always beat the underdog, grassroots candidates.\u00a0<\/p>\n The result: less competition, more entrenchment, and a gerontocracy that undermines progress (opens in new tab)<\/a> we\u2019ve made to elect new leaders.<\/p>\n