So far, the gubernatorial field is serving up a familiar California special: vague promises dressed in futuristic language. Candidates are talking about "balancing innovation with regulation" and "protecting workers while embracing the future," which is political speak for "I haven't committed to anything yet but please don't quote me being anti-tech in the state that runs on tech money."

Here's the thing: California doesn't need a governor who "gets" AI in the abstract. It needs one willing to answer hard, specific questions. Should autonomous vehicles operate without human backup drivers on every road in the state? Should AI companies face strict liability when their products cause harm? Should Sacramento fast-track data center permits, or should local communities have veto power? These are real policy forks, and "we'll study it" isn't a position.

Meanwhile, regular San Franciscans — the people who actually live alongside autonomous taxis and AI-generated everything — are mostly just trying to figure out how this stuff affects their daily lives. They're less interested in grand tech manifestos than in whether the city works: whether their kids get into a decent school, whether the streets are safe, whether their rent is going up because a new data center spiked energy costs.

The disconnect is telling. Sacramento keeps treating AI policy like a philosophical debate when it's increasingly a kitchen-table issue. Energy consumption from data centers is surging. Jobs in content creation, customer service, and logistics are already being reshaped. And California's regulatory apparatus — already legendarily slow and expensive — is completely unequipped to keep pace.

What voters should demand from every candidate is simple: specifics, trade-offs, and timelines. Not another TED Talk. The next governor will inherit the most consequential tech policy landscape in the country. The least they can do is tell us what they'd actually do with it before we hand them the keys.