As California Governor Gavin Newsom’s national profile rises, so too does renewed scrutiny over a scandal that once threatened to derail his political career.
With speculation swirling about a potential 2028 presidential run, Newsom finds himself grappling with echoes of his past—specifically, a 2007 affair that cast a long shadow over his early days as a political leader.
Back when he was the mayor of San Francisco, Newsom shocked the political world by admitting to an affair with Ruby Rippey Gibney—the wife of his close friend and campaign manager, Alex Tourk.
The revelation rocked San Francisco’s political establishment, obliterated longstanding personal alliances, and severely tested the public's trust in a rising political star.
In a rare televised address, Newsom confronted the scandal head-on with a straightforward admission. “I want to make it clear that everything you’ve heard and read is true,” he said somberly. “I am deeply sorry about that. I’ve hurt someone I care deeply about, Alex Tourk and his friends and family. That is something I have to live with.”
His statement extended beyond personal remorse. Newsom addressed the people of San Francisco directly, acknowledging that he had let them down. “They expect a lot of their mayor,” he said.
“I am committed to restoring their trust and confidence and will work very hard in the upcoming months to make sure that the business of running the city is framed appropriately.”
But for many, the damage had already been done.
Alex Tourk, one of Newsom’s most trusted allies and his then–chief of staff, resigned immediately. The affair sent shockwaves through the city’s political community.
Newsom’s image—previously polished and promising—took a direct hit. Critics pounced on the opportunity, labeling him unethical, reckless, and undeserving of public trust.
For weeks, the controversy dominated headlines, talk shows, and comedy monologues. Even those who had once supported Newsom found themselves asking tough questions about his character and leadership.
Though he managed to weather the political storm, the scandal never fully disappeared. It became a permanent footnote in the story of Gavin Newsom—an unhealed wound that opponents could poke at any time, especially now as he appears poised to chase higher office.
In recent years, the broader social and political landscape has changed drastically. The rise of the #MeToo movement has prompted a reexamination of workplace relationships, power dynamics, and accountability.
In that context, some observers have begun questioning whether Newsom’s affair—given that Gibney was a subordinate—might constitute workplace misconduct.
Though no formal allegations were ever filed, the optics are troubling. Gibney worked for the mayor’s office at the time, and the relationship raises obvious ethical concerns. In many corporate and public-sector settings today, such an affair might have prompted formal inquiries, suspension, or even dismissal.
Still, Gibney has consistently defended Newsom. In a later Facebook post, she wrote, “To be clear, I fully support the Me Too movement. In this particular instance, however, I am doubtful that it applies.”
She acknowledged the power imbalance but maintained that her participation in the relationship was entirely consensual. “I made choices,” she said, pushing back against the notion that she was exploited or coerced.
Nonetheless, as public discourse evolves, so too does the lens through which past scandals are evaluated. What might have been dismissed as a personal failing in 2007 could now carry professional consequences in 2028.
Despite the affair, Newsom did not fade into political obscurity. Instead, he climbed the political ladder, eventually winning the governorship of California.
As governor, Newsom has become a lightning rod—applauded by progressives for his stance on climate, housing, and healthcare, while fiercely criticized by conservatives for his pandemic policies, gun control measures, and aggressive environmental regulations.
His national exposure skyrocketed during the COVID-19 pandemic, when California’s lockdown measures became both a blueprint and a battleground. He survived a recall election in 2021, further solidifying his place as one of the Democratic Party’s most resilient and high-profile figures.
Yet with that prominence comes renewed scrutiny. The more seriously Newsom is considered as a national contender, the more his past becomes political ammunition.
Just as the scandal from 2007 resurfaces, Newsom is also drawing fire for recent inflammatory remarks made during a podcast appearance on “The Siren.” In a heated discussion, the governor appeared to endorse physical retaliation against political opponents—namely, supporters of former President Donald Trump.
“This is radical rigging of a midterm election,” he said, referring to a redistricting effort in Texas that aims to solidify Republican control of additional congressional seats.
“Destroying, vandalizing this democracy, the rule of law,” he continued. “We’re fighting fire with fire, and we’re gonna punch these sons of b****es in the mouth.”
For a man eyeing a presidential run, such language is more than reckless—it’s politically dangerous. The comments prompted a wave of backlash from Republicans and moderate Democrats alike, who argued that the remarks went beyond fiery rhetoric and into dangerous territory.
While some of his base may admire his passion and willingness to “fight back,” others see the statement as proof of poor judgment—a criticism that echoes the sentiment surrounding his earlier scandal.
If Newsom decides to run for president in 2028, he will enter a crowded, competitive, and deeply divided field. Democrats will be looking for a candidate who can unite the party, win over swing voters, and fend off Republican attacks. Newsom’s record in California—both praised and reviled—will come under intense scrutiny.
So too will his personal history.
While America has a long history of forgiving political figures for personal indiscretions, especially when they occurred decades earlier, times are changing.
Character matters more than ever in the eyes of many voters. An old scandal can be reborn in the digital age, weaponized by opposition research teams, and magnified by social media echo chambers.
Newsom will need to address the past proactively. That means confronting the scandal without defensiveness, owning the consequences, and proving through actions and policy that he has evolved.
More importantly, he must maintain discipline in the present. Comments like those made on “The Siren” podcast do more than energize supporters—they hand political ammunition to opponents on a silver platter.
Newsom is in a precarious position. On one hand, he has the charisma, national name recognition, fundraising prowess, and progressive credentials to make a serious bid for the White House. On the other hand, he is burdened by personal and political baggage that could complicate his path.
His challenge now is to walk a tightrope—balancing ambition with humility, strength with restraint, and leadership with accountability. Whether he can do that in the glare of a national spotlight remains to be seen.
One thing is clear: the past is not done with Gavin Newsom. And if he steps onto the national stage, neither are his critics.
