The New Mexico Maverick: Gov. Gary Johnson, libertarian star

National Review, Nov 8, 1999 by John J. Miller

'In running for office during my first term, I offered up the fact that I smoked marijuana. And the media was very quick to say, 'Oh, so you experimented with marijuana,'" recalls Gov. Gary Johnson, Republican of New Mexico. "No, I smoked marijuana. This is something that I did. I did it along with a lot of other people. But me and my buddies, you know . . . we enjoyed what we were doing."

The scene is a drug-policy conference at the Cato Institute, and the auditorium is packed. The audience is think-tank bohemian: bearded drug-policy wonks, open-collared legalization advocates, and a few plain old potheads. One reporter from High Times magazine has dyed his hair green and asks about CIA drug trafficking. For just about everybody in the room, Johnson is a hero. He receives standing ovations coming and going. And his line about the pleasures of weed meets with raucous approval.

Talk like that started turning heads over the summer when Johnson let it be known that he had decided to make drug legalization a major theme of his second term. On October 7, federal drug czar Barry McCaffrey made a special trip to Albuquerque to condemn him. "This is goofy thinking," he said, also calling the governor "an embarrassment." In joining the war on the war on drugs, however, Johnson is hardly alone: Baltimore mayor Kurt Schmoke, former secretary of state George Shultz, and Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura are also critics. Yet only Johnson appears eager to make legalization part of his legacy. He is probably the most high-profile drug legalizer to hold office today.

Then again, Johnson would earn cheers from libertarians no matter what his views on drugs. He has tried repeatedly to cut taxes, and has had modest success, despite a state legislature run by old-school Democrats. In the six years before his first election, the state government grew by about 10 percent annually. Johnson has cut that rate by more than half, and trimmed about 1,200 jobs from the Santa Fe payroll. He has vetoed 550 bills, which he boasts is more than all other sitting governors combined. That number includes two state budgets last spring, which Johnson nixed because they didn't include school vouchers. He threatened to shut down the government, but eventually gave up in the face of unified Democratic opposition and doubts among rural Republicans.

"Veto Johnson," as some in New Mexico have dubbed him, is a citizen-politician; he was not involved in public life at any level before seeking the GOP nomination in 1994. Outside of Albuquerque business circles, nobody had heard of him. He self-financed his primary campaign, and went on to beat an incumbent Democrat. He has said over and over that he won't seek another political office. And he certainly won't get a job in a George W. Bush administration: In July, he became the only governor to endorse Steve Forbes for president. Activists in the Libertarian party, in search of their own Ventura-like miracle, have talked about drafting Johnson for a White House run. "I'm very flattered," he smiles, "but I'm a Republican."

Johnson, 46, was born in snowy North Dakota, but he's all New Mexico now, right down to his turquoise wedding ring. With his narrow face, close-cropped hair, and lean build, he looks like Steve Largent, the wide-receiver-turned-congressman from Oklahoma. Johnson too is an athlete, with skin that has turned orange from long hours outdoors. He is a hang-gliding, ski-jumping, sky-diving rock climber who has reached the summit of Mt. McKinley. He marked the anniversary of the Bataan Death March with a 25-mile desert run in combat boots while wearing a 35-pound backpack. He has competed in a 100-mile, 30-hour race that makes the traditional marathon look like a cakewalk. And on October 23, he will participate in Hawaii's invitation-only Ironman Triathlon Championship-for the third time. Johnson expects to complete the race-2.4 miles of swimming, 26.2 miles (a marathon) of running, and 112 miles of biking-in less than eleven hours. He plans to climb Mt. Everest on leaving office at the end of 2002.

Johnson's flamboyance sometimes spills over into his politics, as when he said that wife-beaters should be "soaked in honey, staked on a red ant hill in Texas, and shown on national TV." He once suggested planting microchips in the brains of criminals. As for abortion, he's one of those politicians who say they're personally against it but wouldn't be comfortable outlawing it-yet local pro-lifers love him. "He backs every piece of legislation we're for," says Dauneen Dolce, of the Right to Life Committee of New Mexico. That includes "parental consent," "informed consent," and bans on assisted suicide, partial-birth abortion, and Medicaid-funded abortion. Johnson didn't win the group's endorsement in 1994, but got it four years later.

A serious man as well as a free spirit, Johnson speaks with the earnestness of an infomercial actor. His speeches sound like pleas propelled by force of logic, as if he genuinely doesn't understand how reasonable people could disagree with him if they just spent enough time thinking about the subject. His remarks can turn amusingly Socratic, with Johnson asking himself skeptical questions and then providing sharp answers.