Bluesky

I wasn’t going to write about Nina Schwalbe. As you may or may not know, she’s the global health expert and scientist running for Jerry Nadler’s fabled seat in Manhattan’s 12th Congressional District. (Long focused around the Upper West Side, the district now includes the more conservative Upper East Side.) If you live uptown, you might have run into her chatting with voters at a neighborhood Greenmarket or in front of Zabar’s, or seen one of her posters in a storefront window. But she’s gotten little media attention and few endorsements. She’s right down there with Laura Dunn, the civil liberties lawyer backed by the National Organization for Women who is the other low-profile woman running for the slot.

What made me curious about Schwalbe, and also, to be frank, enraged on her behalf, was a long cover story in New York magazine. The cover, which announced, “The Next Mr. Manhattan,” featured photos of the four top candidates—Micah Lasher, Alex Bores, George Conway, and Jack Schlossberg—squished together in a van, looking very pleased with themselves. Schwalbe was not mentioned once. It’s true that the men’s campaigns are swarming with volunteers and staffers, and are lavishly funded—Lasher has over a million from Michael Bloomberg, Bores more than that from tech- and crypto-bros. All four are also the object of much punditry and polling, with many endorsements from prominent people. I get glossy mailers from Bores and Lasher practically every day, and endless extremely annoying e-mails from Schlossberg reminding me that he is a Kennedy. It is hard to imagine Schwalbe breaking through this wall of media and money, but still: How democratic is the race if you need millions of dollars and preexisting fame to run a visible race? Jack Schlossberg has no relevant experience, and no credentials that I can see, but Nancy Pelosi endorsed him. (At least Schwalbe will be included in a debate next Tuesday on WNYC.)

I asked Schwalbe why she decided to run, when I interviewed her at her modest Upper West Side apartment at the end of May. She is a 60-year-old lesbian mom with a calm, friendly manner and no trace of the urgent egotism that characterizes so many politicians. “Our democracy is in deep trouble,” she told me, “from vaccines to abortion to science, to SNAP, to rule of law.” As for her lack of political experience, she pointed out her deep experience with international health, and how she had been in charge of, among other things, global covid vaccine distribution during the Biden administration. “I’ve worked in over 100 countries—I’ve delivered.”

The immediate impetus for her foray into electoral politics was the mass firings at USAID and CDC, the US departure from the World Health Organization, and the canceling of DEI. “You can’t really do public health without DEI. It doesn’t work.” She continued, “Nobody was stepping in. Congress certainly wasn’t.”

Schwalbe would certainly bring expertise and plenty of experience on public health to Congress. That’s why among her endorsements are Helen Clark, the former prime minister of New Zealand, with whom she worked on the WHO’s global pandemic treaty, and her old friend Representative Jim Hines (D-CT), who assured her that her skill set would be valued by her fellow legislators. “I have real insight into how government works, and passing that allocation or appropriation is just the first step. We have a ton of wonderful bills that have been passed but not executed.” For example, despite the Americans with Disabilities Act, 60 percent of the subways in the 12th district are not accessible.

It’s good to hear she’d be welcome in Congress, but how does she plan to get there? “Our path to victory is the power of the people,” she told me. Besides street canvassing and the Greenmarkets, the campaign posts frequently on Instagram and TikTok. But I’ve yet to receive a campaign e-mail or invitation to a house party or other event.

There’s a handmade old-style feminist feel to Schwalbe’s campaign—V, formerly Eve Ensler, is an endorser. I like it that she goes into Central Park and asks young women if they feel body-shamed. I like that she mocks expensive glossy mailers. But it does feel a little low-key. People power takes well, lots of people, and it takes a real organization to get them out, or even make it known that you exist. As of last week, she told me, she had gotten about 1400 donations. Only a handful of her TikToks have gotten more than a few hundred clicks. Still, she points out that around 30 percent of voters are undecided. So, in theory, there’s hope.

Our conversation was a bit rambling, but I learned a lot about, for example, Covid. According to Schwalbe the six-foot rule was excessive. It was originally meant for the flu. Closing the schools was another mistake, she said. She actually wrote an article to that effect in The Atlantic in 2020, but the teachers’ union was adamant about the shutdown. “Science is very hard to communicate, and we just have to do a better job of it. You can’t just say something works. We have to be able to explain the nuances. Because that’s where we lose trust.” Even on the Upper West Side, she meets anti-vaxxers who think the Covid vaccine let Bill Gates put a chip in your arm. “I say, he doesn’t need to because you have one in your pocket.” Good answer!

I came away liking Schwalbe as a person quite a bit, and grateful for the science lesson. But what would she say, I asked, to someone who said, I agree with everything you stand for, but you don’t have a chance and if I give you my vote maybe Schlossberg would get in? “I would say, imagine a world where we voted for the person that we wanted to see in office.” Imagine it, sure. But in the real world?

I would love to see Schwalbe win a surprise victory over the media, the money, and, yes, the men. Could that happen? She thinks so: “If I wasn’t an optimist I wouldn’t do this.” I’m more of a skeptic than an optimist these days, but I wish her all the luck.