S tanding behind a podium in her office, her salt-and-pepper hair up in a high-messy bun, Gov. Katie Hobbs had to have anticipated the question. Arizona’s primary elections were just 11 days away and the general election — in which the Democrat would be seeking reelection — was three months beyond that. Her opponent hadn’t even been determined, yet already her political foes were pounding a steady drumbeat that she was, well, chicken. Hobbs infamously hadn’t participated in a single debate during her first campaign in 2022, and Republicans were already sharpening their knives over her perceived unwillingness to spar with her opponents in a political boxing match this time around. GOP Rep. Andy Biggs, her likely challenger who ultimately cruised to a primary victory, had been slamming Hobbs for being unwilling to debate him. Turning Point Action executive Tyler Bowyer, whose far-right organization is backing Biggs, had taken to calling her “No Debate Kate.” Clips of Hobbs’ speaking engage- ments — with the governor talking in her typical halting, less-than-comfortable style — had been offered as proof for why she’d surely avoid debating once more. Three days before this mid-July press conference, Hobbs had already been asked whether she’d debate Biggs or whoever won the GOP primary. It was too early for that question, she demurred, and she’d answer it after primary results rolled in. At the press conference, Phoenix New Times tried to squeeze a debate question in through the side door. Do you think debates still have value in the world of today’s poli- tics? Again, Hobbs dodged, verbally gesturing at the election calendar. There’d be “plenty of time to talk about debates in the general election,” she said, explaining that she was there today to talk about signing a bill to protect first responders. There was apparently a time and place for such questions, it seemed, and that was after the primary — though, notably, the debate question had been asked during a portion of the press confer- ence set aside for off-topic queries. The morning after the primary, New Times tried again. The night before, Biggs had sewn up the GOP nomination within minutes of the first results being reported, and the Hobbs campaign had already released an ad attacking him. After a campaign stop at a Gilbert group home, New Times broached the subject again: Governor, will you debate Andy Biggs? But post-primary or not, the runway was still closed for debate questions. “There is going to be plenty of time to talk about debates in the coming days,” Hobbs said, against ducking the subject and redi- recting to her “Arizona First” campaign tour. When pressed for when that time would be, Hobbs noted that “we have 104 days left to talk about that.” Perhaps on one of them, she actually will. If history is any guide, Hobbs may duck the debate question all the way through the election — and potentially all the way to a reelection win. When she first ran for governor in 2022, a similar will-she-won’t-she question dogged Hobbs before she quite publicly declined to debate Kari Lake, her bombastic MAGA opponent. Hobbs’ team argued that voters wouldn’t be served by allowing Lake — a polished former TV reporter turned Trump sycophant — to yell and spout conspiracy theories without an adequate mechanism to keep her in check. The two women were given separate sit-down interviews instead, and Hobbs’ debate-shyness ultimately didn’t cost her. She bested Lake by 17,000 ballots and a slim 50.33% of the vote. Hobbs also didn’t debate her primary opponent that year either. In fact, she hasn’t actually debated anyone since she ran for secretary of state in 2018, when she took on Republican Steve Gaynor in a televised Arizona PBS forum. That might rightfully make Hobbs the queen of avoiding debates just as much as she’s the empress of gubernatorial vetoes. But in Arizona, the “to debate or not debate” question far predates Hobbs’ political ambitions. Every four years at least, it seems, one candidate for high office in the Grand Canyon State accuses another of wussing out on their democratic duty to offer their views up to be challenged by campaign rivals. Candidates have flunked debates and decided future showdowns aren’t worth the political risks. They’ve avoided them like the plague, only to be shamed into partici- pating as November neared. Just as much as Arizona’s political calendar is defined by political debates, it’s defined by debates about political debates. Hobbs’ victory four years ago suggests that perhaps that quadrennial conversation is overblown in importance. Do these debates even matter? The governor herself has opined that they don’t. In May, during an in-studio appearance on the KTAR talk show “Bruce and Gaydos,” Hobbs once more evaded a question about debating Biggs, but added that she’s found recent debates to be vapid. The last several she’d watched had “devolved into a circus,” she said, citing the 2022 GOP primary debate for Arizona governor and debates in the recent California governor’s race. “I don’t know what voters get out of that,” she added. Are debates still valuable? Do they inform voters, or even affect electoral outcomes at all? As one might guess, that’s all up for debate. A long history The debate about whether to debate is just about as old as televised debates themselves. Until Hobbs declined to debate Lake in 2022, candidates for Arizona governor have debated ahead of every gubernatorial elec- tion since at least 1954. They also accused their opponents of trying to avoid them. In advance of the 1970 election, Democratic candidate Raul Hector Castro repeatedly griped that incumbent Republican Gov. Jack Williams was ducking a debate with him. When Williams backed out of a Tucson debate in October of that year, his campaign co-chairman blamed it on Castro ignoring a letter about having a debate and said Williams’ duties as governor “have been so time-consuming that his campaign schedule must suffer.” The pair eventually did debate right before Election Day, and Williams went on to a narrow victory, winning by a little more than 7,000 votes. That wouldn’t be the first time an incumbent governor decided a debate was not worth the effort — or the risk. Republican Gov. Jan Brewer’s 2010 campaign was not without its debate- related hiccups. In an Arizona PBS debate against Democratic Attorney General Terry Goddard and other chal- lengers, Brewer repeatedly froze during her opening statement. She opened by acknowledging the moderator and her fellow candidates before turning to look directly in the camera. “I have, uh…” Brewer said before putting her head down while clasping her hands. “...done so much,” she finally continued after looking up. “And I just cannot believe we’ve changed everything since I’ve become your governor in the last 600 days. Arizona has been brought back from its abyss.” She got through (Photo Illustration by Eric-John Torres / Photos by Gage Skidmore)
