Steyer’s decision came as a surprise even to some of his political confidants. He had made deliberate preparations in recent months to seek the White House, running television ads in the early primary states, recruiting potential staff members and even designating a campaign manager for a possible run.
But Steyer began informing aides early this week he would not be a candidate after all, after concluding that he could have a greater political effect through his impeachment activism, several advisers to Steyer said. Steyer intends to spend at least $40 million on impeachment efforts in the coming year — money that might otherwise have been directed toward a campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination.
“Most people come to Iowa around this time to announce a campaign for president,” Steyer said in prepared remarks in the state, which were obtained by The New York Times. “But I am proud to be here to announce that I will do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to remove a president.”
Alluding to Trump’s Oval Office address Tuesday night, in which Trump demanded the construction of a border wall, Steyer said the president had “once again lied to the American people, repeatedly, for his own political skin.” He described Trump as having already committed numerous offenses warranting his removal from office, and warned Democrats that shying away from an impeachment battle would serve to “enable” the president.
Steyer, 61, left himself some wiggle room to change his mind on 2020, saying in prepared remarks that he had decided against running “at this time.” But his announcement ended — at least for now — the latest of several flirtations with seeking high office, which have also included abortive candidacies for the U.S. Senate and for governor of California. He considered running for president in 2016 before ultimately endorsing Hillary Clinton.
In some respects, the Democratic primary landscape appeared inviting for a candidate like Steyer, with his sterling credentials as a Trump antagonist and a virtually bottomless well of money to spend on advertising. He has been one of the Democratic Party’s most prolific donors over the last few elections, eclipsed in 2018 only by Michael Bloomberg, the former New York City mayor who is considering a presidential campaign of his own.
Anticipating a likely race, Steyer had settled on a close adviser, Heather Hargreaves, to serve as his eventual campaign manager. He had conducted research into his own political vulnerabilities, in anticipation of attacks from other Democrats in a rowdy primary, and had mapped out how to reorganize his advocacy groups to comply with the fundraising regulations that apply to presidential candidates.
Steyer also recently retained a new senior adviser, Doug Rubin, who previously advised former Gov. Deval Patrick of Massachusetts on a possible 2020 run. Patrick announced last month that he had closed the door on a presidential candidacy.
Steyer and his advisers had conducted polling to test a campaign message focused on attacking corporate greed, confronting climate change — and, of course, denouncing Trump.
Yet amid his preparations, there were warning signs for Steyer, too. As a candidate, he would have faced new levels of scrutiny of his business record: Steyer made his vast fortune as the founder of a hedge fund, and his portfolio of investments included considerable stakes in fossil fuel companies. As a wealthy white man, he could have been an awkward cultural match for a party increasingly defined by demands for racial and gender equality, and economic populism.
And Steyer’s intention to use his personal fortune in fueling a presidential campaign would most likely have been divisive in a Democratic primary. His announcement in Iowa that he would not run comes days after the first major Democratic candidate to join the race, Sen. Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, denounced self-funding candidates on a swing through the leadoff caucus state.
An adviser to Steyer, who requested anonymity to discuss private conversations with him, said that Steyer had been unruffled by Warren’s attacks on billionaire candidates. But, the adviser said, Steyer was impressed by Warren’s rollout as a candidate and suggested that her announcement video channeled the very themes he had been planning to campaign on.
Steyer also disclosed to Vogue magazine in November that he and his wife of 32 years, Kat Taylor, were living separately.
He is the second prominent Democrat to make preparations for a 2020 campaign before abandoning them, after Patrick.
In stepping back from the presidential race, Steyer signaled he would further ramp up his impeachment drive, which has roiled Democratic politics over the last year, bringing him into direct conflict with elected party leaders and helping shove the idea of Trump’s early removal into the mainstream of debate on the left.
Underwritten by Steyer’s personal wealth, the impeachment campaign has bombarded television and computer screens around the country with ads demanding Trump’s ouster, and staged pro-impeachment events around the country.
Steyer indicated Wednesday that his pressure campaign would continue. One of his political committees, Need to Impeach, said it would aim a pressure campaign at House Democrats who lead committees relevant to impeachment, including Reps. Adam Schiff of California, who heads the House Intelligence Committee, and Jerrold Nadler of New York, who leads the House Judiciary Committee.
And Steyer, a longtime donor to House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, called on her by name to “select a bipartisan group of lawmakers to start immediately” with a process to remove Trump from office.
“The longer they wait, the more they normalize Trump’s unacceptable acts,” Steyer said in his prepared speech. “And the more they enable him.”
Democratic leaders remain wary of Steyer’s impeachment message, and the institutional obstacles to removing Trump from office still appear insurmountable. Ejecting a president requires a two-thirds majority in the Senate, and Republicans hold 53 seats in the chamber.
Yet the idea of impeachment has moved steadily into the foreground of the Democratic imagination, despite the obvious practical impediments. When a high-profile freshman lawmaker, Rep. Rashida Tlaib of Michigan, vowed last week in coarse language to impeach Trump, she drew little censure from party leaders and numerous influential voices on the left leapt to her defense.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.