ALBANY — Kathy Hochul is used to life on the road, but even by her standards, the itinerary she was staring at one recent day was exhausting to consider, never mind execute.
After looping western and central New York for 27 events, she had a stop in Albany to moderate a panel discussion. She’d then zip down to Westchester County to accept an award, and the following morning she'd hairpin turn back to the state’s northernmost border to fish at the 2019 Adirondack Challenge on Saranac Lake.
But that wasn't enough. She wondered aloud to an aide if she could "bang out" a visit somewhere in Washington County on the way to the North Country. The aide nodded helplessly.
Doesn’t Kathy Hochul ever get tired?
“We don’t do tired,” she said in an interview with POLITICO. “I don’t want any downtime. I don’t need it."
Such is the hectic life of New York’s lieutenant governor, who seems to be a presence at every ribbon-cutting, baby-kissing, axe-throwing event the state has to offer. “I would say she’s been busier than any lieutenant governor in recent memory by far,” said Robert Bellafiore, an Albany-based communications consultant and a former press secretary for Gov. George Pataki.
Naturally enough, all those cut ribbons, kissed babies and thrown axes lead to a simple question: To what end? While Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s national ambitions are a constant source of speculation in Albany, his second-in-command is rarely mentioned in conversations about the state's political stars.
Perhaps she should be, because even as she operates in the formidable shadow of the governor, she has been independently carving out a place for herself and whatever ambitions she may have in every corner of the state.
Her travels certainly have the trappings of a would-be candidate building a profile for some future bid for another office, perhaps the one her boss currently occupies. “I don’t think there’s ever been a lieutenant governor who hasn’t wanted to be governor at some point,” said Democratic strategist Bruce Gyory.
Precedent, though, is not on her side. Except for Cuomo’s father Mario, and Herbert Lehman, there’s not a strong history of lieutenant governors advancing to the state’s highest office in recent times — at least not on purpose.Or to any other office, for that matter.
But precedent and history have not dampened Hochul's enthusiasm for tending to her web of connections. Her aides said she’ll speak most anyplace she’s invited, far exceeding assignments from Cuomo's office. She often requests additional appearances to revisit projects she helped launch or that meet her goal of hitting all 62 counties every year.
A group of physicists working on synchrotron radiation instrumentation? Sure.
The AppleUmpkin Festival in Wyoming County, where there are famouslymore cows than people? Of course.
A new brewery? A coworking space in a beleaguered downtown corridor? Anything — literally anything — aimed at advancing women in the workplace? Absolutely.
“So I just look at a day like, OK, we're going here, but why don't we go see a senior center while we’re there or go see a homeless center and talk to them?” she said. “If I can be in a place to make an official announcement and build out five of those things on the way, that's a better day for me.”
Lieutenant governors don't have a particularly burdensome job description. Onetime lieutenant governor David Paterson reportedly joked that his only responsibility each day was to call the Executive Mansion and ask if Gov. Eliot Spitzer was still in office. (And wouldn’t you know — a day came when Spitzer was not, in fact, in office, and Paterson earned a promotion.) Paterson’s own No. 2, Richard Ravitch, said he didn’t feel he accomplished “anything very substantive” during his time in office. Mario Cuomo’s first lieutenant governor, Alfred DelBello, famously resigned after two years, complaining that he was bored.
The current Cuomo's first lieutenant governor, Bob Duffy, said his position had specific emphasis on economic development, which prepared him for the gig he has now, head of Rochester's Chamber of Commerce. Duffy said he considered himself a means of support and reconnaissance, while Hochul seems to be choosing a more “visible” path.
"I saw my role as being his eyes and ears upstate," Duffy said. "I traveled around to meet with constituents and leaders, listen to their concerns, establish relationships and report back to the governor."
Duffy stepped down after Cuomo's first term, in part because the heavy travel requirements placed unmanageable stress on his 6-foot, 5-inch frame.
Hochul, who is more than a foot shorter than Duffy, has less difficulty finding legroom, though she uses foam lumbar supports and a device that shoots tiny electric pulses into her back to support hours of sitting in a car — her preferred mode of transport. She almost never flies, except for fast trips between Buffalo and New York City.
"There’s a strong sense that this is my moment to make a difference,” she said. “I know in elected office, it’s not up to me, it’s up to voters. I know I have a finite time — the length of a term is all you’ve been given to make an impact.”
Hochul insists her next career move is the only part of her life that isn’t scheduled.
“I've never looked at the next run,” she said. “Wherever I'm at, that's my world and that's that's my existence. After 14 years on the [Hamburg] town board, I could have died having only been a town board member and thought that I really made a difference.”
Hochul said she’s tasked with creating political pressure during her travels for political maneuvers like the state’s minimum wage hike and “red-flag” legislation that would prevent individuals showing signs they are a threat to themselves or others from possessing guns.
Hochul, in many ways, projects qualities that may not be Cuomo's strengths.
Her public interactions are warm and gaffe-free, where Cuomo’s off-script moments have more than once resulted in cringey — and occasionally viral— missteps. On a train ride to the state fair in late summer, Hochul spent much of the time roaming the aisles, striking up conversations about horse-riding, deep-fried cookie dough and Onondaga County. Cuomo sat in the back of the train with a group of agency leaders.
Hochul’s a western New York native whose parents once lived in a trailer and who got her start as a student activist at Syracuse University. Cuomo’s a Queens boy who came of age in politics as one of his father's trusted advisers.
While Cuomo has occasionally stumbled while commenting on women’s issues, Hochul can rattle off times she’s been underestimated, disrespected or forced to juggle twice the responsibilities of her male counterparts. She told a group of women business owners of a time she burned her hand trying to steam a wrinkled dress in her hotel room at midnight and ran through the halls looking for ice. Her audience laughed in appreciation. She’s adopted a hashtag on Twitter — #HowSheDoesIt — that documents how she stays sane. (It’s protein bars and daily exercise, she says.)
Those on the receiving end of her projects know her as the face of the administration’s efforts, if nothing but for the number of times she’s visited. The combination of her varied leadership roles and her background suggests she “understands the plight of the middle class,” said Erie County Democratic Committee Chairman Jeremy Zellner.
“I’m not sure there’s a better advocate for western New York than the lieutenant governor,” Zellner said. “She’s certainly one of the hardest working people in government right now.”
She’s also familiar with rural Republican voters in ways many New York Democrats are not, and her record reflects that balancing act. While serving as Erie County clerk a decade ago, she vowed to have undocumented immigrantsarrested if they applied for a driver’s license in the offices she controlled. She has since changed positions, she has said.
While those votes could come back to bite her should she seek another office, they also could be a boon in a political environment some say will require more moderate Democrats to pull Trump voters across the aisle.
“He [Cuomo] picked the right person from a geographic perspective, a political perspective and a personal perspective,” Bellafiore said. “He was the son of a restless lieutenant governor and he spent the rest of the time seeing what a pain in the neck a restless lieutenant governor can be.“
The governor earlier this month said Hochul “could do anything,” though he is “selfish” and wants her to stay with the administration.
“I think she could win any seat,” Cuomo said when WAMC’s Alan Chartock floated her name as a Democratic contender to succeed former U.S. Rep. Chris Collins. “She's just a great politician and official, you know, she's a rare combination.”
Hochul briefly held the western New York House seat from which Collins resigned several weeks ago. In fact, she lost her reelection bid to Collins in 2012 after winning a special election in 2011. Would she return to Washington? She said she didn't see that scenario. “But I didn’t think I’d be lieutenant governor either," she added.
If Hochul does have higher political aspirations, she should be careful about being too obvious, according to Duffy.
Duffy said he never saw the job as a political stepping stone and said he felt he built stronger relationships because his peers in state politics weren’t eyeing him as a future opponent.
“Those who are out there in other positions, if they see her as a rival, may not be as pleasant or supportive in the future,” he said.
For the time being anyway, that has not been a problem.
“She is in an outstanding position, if something opens up,” said SKDKnickerbocker's Morgan Hook. “She’s an ambassador for the administration, yes, but she’s also an ambassador for herself."
