Did they deserve him?

NOWADAYS fewer than one in three Californians think their governor is doing a good job. That puts Arnold Schwarzenegger almost in the same territory as Gray Davis, who was recalled in 2003. During debates his fellow Republican, Meg Whitman, has politely stressed how different she would be, while Jerry Brown argues that bringing in well-meaning amateur politicians, even rich and famous ones, does not work. The left moans that the Governator cut spending, the right that he did not cut taxes enough.

If Mr Schwarzenegger is depressed, he does not show it. Few politicians anywhere exude optimism more physically. Sure, Californian politics is impossible (“There is maze you have to go through, then a minefield, then an obstacle course: you become an athlete”) but from behind his cigar he reels off a set of achievements, from reforming state workers' compensation to making schools better and building levees. He has managed to keep spending rises below inflation. His main regret is not building more things: he waxes lyrical about visiting South Korea and counting the cranes on the skyline.

So there is a record to defend. The problem has to do with unmet expectations, probably including his own. Back when Mr Schwarzenegger bulldozed his way to the governorship alongside Mr Davis's recall, the hope was that this cyborg ex machina could change the world's least governable big economy. It was not just that his celebrity guaranteed him an audience; his brand of hedonistic Republicanism was close to the state's moderate centre, unlike the partisan, gerrymandered legislature.

Since then, as even Mr Schwarzenegger's friends admit, the system won too often. But was it his fault? California's governorship is a pretty weak one: the state's government is a mess of competing districts, counties and cities, with much of the budget mandated by ballot initiatives. The Governator relied on using that referendum system to bypass the legislature. But those centrist voters soon let him down: a series of reforms were easily defeated by the big public-sector unions in 2005. The governor was soon in the sort of slow slugfest his foes excelled at. One Democrat calls him “a Hollywood negotiator”, better at dividing up the spoils than settling down for lengthy line-by-line brawls.

Against this, Mr Schwarzenegger still managed to win re-election in 2006, and he has doggedly clung to the centre. On prisons, for instance, he has defied right-wingers by repeatedly making the case that California locks up too many people. He has kept going on public-sector pensions and this month won a victory of sorts. There is talk of him setting up an institution to campaign for reform. “He doesn't give things up,” observes one ally.

In retrospect, this supremely lucky man was unlucky in his timing—on two scores. First, his successor will have the advantage of several political reforms he did push through—open primaries and an end to gerrymandering in the state legislature—that should make politics in the near future less loopily partisan. Second, the mood has changed. Seven years ago Californians were furious enough to elect him but not to follow through. Now more of them may realise what a mess their state is in.