Ranked Choice Voting, Progressive Politics, and the Decline of Black Political Influence in New York

One of the most dangerous assumptions in politics today is that new processes automatically yield better outcomes. Ranked Choice Voting (RCV) was introduced in New York City as a supposed upgrade to democracy, giving voters more voice and ensuring broader representation. But as with many well-intentioned reforms, what matters is not how it sounds, but how it works. And for Black communities in New York, it is not working.

The recent Democratic mayoral primary produced a clear example: Zohran Mamdani, a candidate backed by the Democratic Socialists of America, won the nomination despite failing to win majority support in historically Black neighborhoods. The very voters most vulnerable to economic instability and crime were effectively bypassed in a system that rewarded coordinated coalitions over concentrated support.

This is not a question of personality. Mamdani may be young, energetic, and symbolic of a new political wave, but symbols do not govern—policies do. His platform, which includes a $30 minimum wage, rent freezes, and defunding police departments, may earn applause in academic circles, but its practical effects on working-class Black families, business owners, and homeowners are either unknown or clearly harmful.

RCV was sold as a way to broaden voter choice. But in practice, it has created a system where outcomes are increasingly driven by those with the most organized political machinery—not those with the most community support. Mamdani’s campaign succeeded not by winning the first-choice votes of Black voters, but by building a coalition of progressive voters across affluent and gentrified districts who were highly engaged, well-funded, and ideologically aligned. His base ranked in unison. Many in the Black community did not rank at all.

This is not empowerment. It is displacement.

The Black vote in New York, long a dominant force in Democratic politics, is being diluted not by suppression in the traditional sense, but by procedural complexity and political substitution. The language of equity is used to advance policies that undermine the very institutions—small businesses, property ownership, and policing—that provide structure and opportunity in Black neighborhoods.

What is perhaps most telling is not just who won, but who supported him. Several prominent Black leaders, including Reverend Al Sharpton, publicly endorsed Mamdani. Their support signals a deeper shift—not in ideology, but in incentives. Too many in the Black political class have begun to align themselves with donor-funded movements that speak the language of progress but produce results that are either neutral or negative for the communities they claim to serve.

This pattern is not new. Throughout history, elites have often aligned with prevailing winds to preserve their own status, even at the cost of the broader group’s advancement. Today’s progressives speak of systemic change, but the systems they are changing often involve replacing functional, if imperfect, structures with ideological experiments—at the expense of those who can least afford the consequences.

Take Mamdani’s stance on law enforcement. His description of the NYPD as “wicked and corrupt” may play well among anti-police activists, but it ignores the fact that many Black residents in high-crime areas are not demanding abolition—they are demanding competence and accountability. The elimination of police funding without a proven alternative does not make these communities safer; it simply shifts the cost of insecurity onto those with the fewest resources to respond.

The same is true of Mamdani’s economic proposals. A $30 minimum wage might sound like justice to political activists, but it operates on the false assumption that wages can be raised by law without consequences. In the real world, wages are paid out of business revenue—not good intentions. When government mandates drive labor costs beyond what small businesses can afford, the result is fewer jobs, shorter hours, and shuttered storefronts. Most Black-owned businesses in New York—barbershops, childcare centers, delis, salons, food carts—operate on thin margins. They cannot absorb a 50 to 100 percent increase in payroll costs without raising prices, cutting staff, or going under altogether. And when those businesses close, it’s not the Ivy League socialist or nonprofit staffer who loses their job—it’s the entry-level worker, the teenager seeking their first opportunity, or the family trying to keep the lights on. As

Thomas Sowell wrote, “The real minimum wage is zero—that is what people receive when they are unemployed.” Policies that price low-skilled workers out of the labor force don’t fight poverty—they expand it.

What makes Mamdani’s promise even more dishonest is the fact that the Mayor of New York City has no legal authority to change the minimum wage. That power lies entirely with the New York State Legislature. So the $30 wage proposal is not just economically reckless—it’s politically empty. Either Mamdani doesn’t understand how government works, or he does—and he’s gaslighting the public by making promises he knows he has no power to fulfill. That’s not leadership. It’s manipulation.

None of this is accidental. The political left in New York, increasingly led by white liberal activists and advocacy organizations, has effectively hijacked the Democratic Party. Candidates like Mamdani are not anomalies—they are the outcome of a strategic shift away from traditional, neighborhood-based politics toward ideologically driven movements financed by donors who are culturally progressive but economically insulated.

These groups speak often of the “working class,” but their version of the working class does not include the barber with a storefront lease, the grandmother trying to hold on to her home amid rising property taxes, or the young Black man looking for stability in a trade. Their policies are designed for theorists, not for families.

To make matters worse, Black political leaders who endorse such candidates are not planting seeds of Black empowerment—they are reinforcing a structure that treats Black voters as a means to someone else’s end. Influence is being traded for visibility. Endorsements are being given in exchange for relevance. And the results speak for themselves: lower homeownership, fewer business opportunities, and declining neighborhood security.

This is not about left or right. It is about logic and results.

What has been the outcome of progressive dominance in New York City politics? Are Black families better off today than they were five years ago? Are our schools improving? Is crime going down? Is capital more accessible? If the answer to those questions is no, then the logical conclusion is that the current political direction is failing—not rhetorically, but measurably.

Political power is not defined by who gets to speak on TV. It is defined by who gets results. And right now, the policies being championed under the banner of justice are producing outcomes that leave Black communities weaker, not stronger.

It is time for a political realignment—one grounded not in slogans but in structure. We need leadership that prioritizes ownership over programs, accountability over popularity, and long-term prosperity over short-term applause.

Until that happens, Ranked Choice Voting and the progressive coalitions that exploit it will continue to sideline the very communities they claim to uplift. And Black voters will continue to be used for legitimacy rather than empowered for leadership.

The only way to change that is to stop judging candidates by their identities or affiliations—and start judging them by their outcomes.

Are you ready to break the cycle of emotional loyalty and political disappointment?

Then Emotional Politics — Logical Failure is the book you need.

In this bold and unfiltered work, Damon K. Jones delivers the hard truths many are afraid to say out loud: Black America has been loyal to a system that has failed to deliver. We’ve mastered symbolism but forfeited strategy. We show up to vote, but not to fund. We speak out, but rarely build. And the result? Speeches instead of solutions. Visibility instead of victory.

This book is not about left or right. It’s about logic over emotion. Power over performance. It’s a call to wake up, re-strategize, and use our political currency with purpose.

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