Former Biden aide tells Virginia Gov. Spanberger to abandon the 'duck and cover' strategy that failed his old boss

Michael LaRosa, the former top spokesperson for first lady Jill Biden, delivered a blunt warning to Virginia Gov. Abigail Spanberger this week: stop hiding. The longtime Democratic communications hand compared Spanberger's approach to the same avoidance playbook that defined, and ultimately undermined, Joe Biden's presidency, and he urged her to reverse course before her governorship is defined by it.

LaRosa's criticism landed Tuesday, just as a Washington Post poll showed Spanberger carrying the highest unfavorable rating of any Virginia governor dating back to the George Allen era. Only four months into her term, 46 percent of Virginians disapproved of her job performance while 47 percent approved, a razor-thin margin that compares poorly to her predecessors.

For context, Republican Glenn Youngkin enjoyed a 54-39 approval split at the same point in his tenure. Democratic Sen. Mark Warner posted a 78-20 favorability rating. Spanberger, by contrast, has already burned through much of her political capital, as the New York Post reported.

LaRosa did not mince words about how the governor got here.

"[She] came in with a mandate and genuine goodwill, and within months, the GOP succeeded in branding her a wolf in sheep's clothing."

That branding effort, LaRosa argued, succeeded not because it was especially clever but because Spanberger refused to fight back. He said the governor "defaulted to the old 1990s 'don't give it oxygen' playbook prescribed for Biden throughout his four years: duck and cover."

The Biden parallel Spanberger can't afford

LaRosa's comparison to Biden carries a particular sting because he saw the strategy fail from the inside. As Jill Biden's longtime aide and spokesperson, he had a front-row seat to an administration that repeatedly chose to stay out of public view during politically inconvenient moments, a habit that fed the narrative of a president unable or unwilling to engage.

Now LaRosa sees the same instinct playing out in Richmond. He posted on X that what began as "silly right-wing noise is now a mainstream narrative, and it's reflected in her first report card." His prescription: Spanberger should "channel the bad***, confrontational Abby Spanberger from that Nov[ember] 2020 caucus call, spicy, direct and pragmatic."

That caucus call, in which the then-congresswoman reportedly clashed with progressive colleagues over the party's direction, became a defining moment for Spanberger's brand as a moderate willing to buck the left. It is precisely that brand, combative, independent, unafraid, that LaRosa says she has abandoned since taking the governor's mansion.

The question of whether Spanberger's moderate image was ever more than a campaign costume is one that has drawn scrutiny before. Her willingness to duck public accountability now only sharpens that question.

Spanberger dodges debate, dodges reporters

The avoidance pattern extends beyond messaging. Former Republican Gov. George Allen offered Spanberger an in-person debate on the merits of a redistricting referendum set for an April 21 election. She declined, citing her busy schedule and a pile of bills to review.

Allen did not let it drop. On Monday, he re-upped his offer with more favorable terms, a one-hour televised virtual debate at a time and date of Spanberger's choosing, with a moderator she selects. He announced the renewed proposal during an appearance on Richmond's WRVA radio with host Rich Herrera.

Allen framed the stakes simply, telling Herrera:

"All of this is a bit confusing; it's unusual, and it helps the people to hear both sides of it."

Allen said he communicated the offer in a letter to Spanberger. The terms could hardly be more accommodating, she picks the moderator, she picks the time, and she doesn't even have to leave her office. Yet as of the report, there was no indication she had accepted.

The pattern of evasion showed up again when Fox News Digital confronted Spanberger in Richmond this week. She briskly avoided the reporter. Her office did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

A governor who won't engage

LaRosa's advice to Spanberger was specific: hold regular press conferences, get combative with reporters, and accept interviews with mainstream media outlets. In other words, do the basic work of a public executive who answers to voters. That this advice needs to be delivered at all, from a fellow Democrat, tells you something about how far Spanberger has retreated from public accountability.

LaRosa capped his critique with a line he borrowed from Donald Trump's 2016 appeal to African American voters weighing whether to break with Democratic orthodoxy: "What the h*** does she have to lose?"

It is a fair question. With her approval already underwater by some measures and her unfavorables the worst in a generation of Virginia governors, the "don't give it oxygen" approach has clearly failed. The oxygen found her anyway. Now the narrative is set, and she has no public record of pushing back against it.

Democrats have a growing problem with leaders who prefer controlled environments to genuine public engagement. The pattern shows up at every level, from local prosecutors who posture on social media while dodging accountability to governors who treat press questions like hostile fire.

Virginia's political history offers its own cautionary tale. The state was once dominated by the Byrd Organization, the segregationist Democratic machine led by former Gov. Harry F. Byrd that maintained power for decades. That machine eventually crumbled. Republicans were swept out of Richmond more recently. Power in the commonwealth is never permanent, and the voters who handed Spanberger a mandate expect something in return.

The redistricting question she won't debate

Allen's debate challenge is particularly telling because it concerns a specific policy question, redistricting, that will go before Virginia voters on April 21. Whatever the merits of either side's position, a sitting governor who refuses to publicly defend her stance on a ballot measure heading to her own electorate is not projecting strength. She is projecting anxiety.

Allen, the son of Washington Redskins icon George H. Allen, served as governor himself and knows the expectations of the office. His willingness to offer every conceivable accommodation, virtual format, her moderator, her schedule, strips away any logistical excuse. The only remaining explanation is that Spanberger does not want to be questioned.

That reluctance fits a broader pattern among Democratic officials who have grown accustomed to friendly media coverage and find themselves disoriented when pressed. When Democratic officeholders face real scrutiny, whether over ethics violations, financial irregularities, or policy failures, the instinct is often to stonewall rather than answer.

Representatives for Joe Biden also did not immediately respond to a request for comment on LaRosa's remarks. The silence from both camps is fitting. The strategy LaRosa describes, "duck and cover", apparently remains the default even after its architect lost the presidency and its newest practitioner is drowning in her own poll numbers.

LaRosa deserves some credit for candor. It takes a certain honesty for a former Biden insider to publicly diagnose the Biden communications playbook as a failure and warn a fellow Democrat not to repeat it. Whether Spanberger listens is another matter. Accountability tends to find officials who run from it, not the other way around.

Virginia voters gave Spanberger a mandate and genuine goodwill, LaRosa's own words. Four months later, she has traded both for silence. If she won't defend her record to a reporter in a hallway or a former governor over a video call, voters are entitled to wonder what exactly she's protecting.

A leader who won't make her case in public isn't leading. She's just occupying the office.