Guests - Lea Marquez Peterson, Cheryl Caswell, Derek Weech, Eileen Wilson
Kathleen Winn's phone started before dawn. By the time the microphones opened on primary morning in Pima County, the reports were already stacking up — the most urgent one out of Marana, where voters were being handed ballots printed on ordinary copy paper rather than the heavier stock the tabulators require. Sixty-odd calls would come in before the show ended. Against that backdrop, the morning ran on two tracks at once: the long-horizon questions of what Arizona's utilities, water, and legislature will look like for the next decade, and the immediate, unglamorous work of getting a legally cast ballot into a machine that will read it.
Lea Marquez Peterson: Rate Cases, Load Growth, and Keeping the Lights On
Lea Marquez Peterson called in from Minnesota, where she was representing Arizona on the national board of the National Association of Regulatory Utility Commissioners. She was the only Arizona commissioner able to attend — Kevin Thompson and Nick Myers are on the primary ballot, and Rachel Walden and Rene Lopez couldn't make the trip.
Seven and a half years into her tenure, she said the Corporation Commission has never been busier. Two major rate cases dominate the docket: Tucson Electric Power and Arizona Public Service, with others pending. Layered on top is a demand problem the state has never faced at this scale. "We're facing incredible load growth," she said — data centers, semiconductor plants, new industry arriving all at once. The commission's task is to manage that growth "and make sure that they pay their share, and that it doesn't land on our residential ratepayers."
She walked listeners through how a rate case actually works, since most people never see it. A utility files a rate application, viewable on the commission's website. Public hearings follow — anywhere from ten to 31 days — along with public comment sessions, all of it recorded in a docket she described as "an online legal folder" that anyone can read. The TEP case now sits with an administrative law judge preparing a recommended order, likely to reach the commissioners this fall. "Then we take a scalpel to it," she said, working through points of agreement and disagreement and filing amendments. The process is open at every stage: attend in person, watch on Webex, or dial in by phone, all through azcc.gov.
Marquez Peterson also made the case for the part of her job nobody talks about. "We're called the Corporation Commission because we incorporate every business in the state" — thousands a month. The agency has built a one-stop business portal where owners can file an LLC or an annual renewal online, with walk-in help available at the downtown Tucson office or the larger Phoenix location.
On what ratepayers can actually control, her advice was concrete. Peak demand statewide runs roughly 3 to 7 p.m., when grid stress is highest. TEP's Smart Rewards program — Cool Rewards in the Phoenix area — lets customers pre-cool a home in the morning and let it drift warmer in the afternoon, with a financial incentive for participating. TEP also offers a time-of-use rate, detailed usage data online, and weatherization and insulation resources. For commercial and industrial customers, she said, demand response programs need to do more. And for anyone in financial difficulty, utility assistance programs exist, routed locally through the Pima County One-Stop.
Winn confessed she'd received one of TEP's notices telling her she uses more energy than her neighbors — a distinction she attributed to the red, white and blue lights she's running at night for the nation's 250th anniversary. "That's important to me," she said. Marquez Peterson confirmed the tracking is deliberate: "There's a real concerted effort with all the electric utilities pretty much in the Southwest to curtail use, especially during peak hours."
Lea Marquez Peterson: The California Contrast, and Arizona's Energy Bet
Asked about California, Marquez Peterson set up the comparison carefully. Arizona's five commissioners take an all-of-the-above approach: use whatever resources are most cost-efficient and most reliable, "to ensure that Arizonans are safe, that we've got reliable energy especially in the hot summer months, and at the most affordable rates."
California went the other way — "politically, ideologically driven decisions" to lean heavily on green energy, a moratorium that took the state from several nuclear plants down to one, the elimination of coal, and a sharp drawdown of natural gas. Her objection wasn't the destination so much as the speed: they did it "without having their backup power and plans in terms of procuring energy to serve their state."
Arizona felt the consequences directly. During the rolling brownouts a few years back, Marquez Peterson was serving as commission chair. Arizona had procured power moving down the large transmission lines that run from the Northwest through California, and California's grid operator decided to keep it. "They decided to keep the power we had procured and to use it for their own citizens, which put Arizona completely at risk," she said. She spent that stretch making phone calls and writing op-eds, and the relationship hasn't fully recovered — though the two states remain allies on Colorado River negotiations.
Arizona's hedge, she explained, is diversification. The state is converting its three coal plants to natural gas, a decision the commission recently voted on. Because Arizona has no natural gas in the ground, that supply comes in from Texas and New Mexico, and the utilities have discussed a new pipeline. All three utilities are exploring nuclear, though she flagged the open question: "We're very concerned with who would pay for it. It's very expensive." One possibility is that the data center and semiconductor operations driving the load growth help fund the generation they require.
That balance — who gets growth, and who doesn't want it — she treated as a regional question rather than a statewide one. Tucson's growth has been steady, and "a lot of the public have been very clear that they don't want to see certain types of industries grow." Maricopa and Pinal counties want the development and the jobs. Her standard for handling the difference was transparency: "no hiding behind NDAs."
Lea Marquez Peterson: Water, and the Colorado River Clock
Winn asked directly whether Governor Katie Hobbs had mishandled the Central Arizona Project. Marquez Peterson declined the frame and gave a longer arc instead. Water augmentation is a multi-administration problem. Governor Doug Ducey, whom she supported, worked on finding new sources and pulled stakeholders together for a drought contingency plan. Hobbs continued some of that work "and defunded some of it too, so that was kind of challenging." Her attempt to negotiate with the Trump administration on the Colorado River, Marquez Peterson said, "I hear it hasn't gone well."
What she wanted listeners to understand is the exposure. The Colorado River supplies somewhere in the range of 20 to 30 percent of Arizona's water — but it feeds Maricopa and Pima counties, the state's most urbanized areas. The commission's stake is larger than people assume: it regulates roughly 350 water utilities statewide, mostly rural, and two of the largest, EPCOR and Arizona Water, are directly affected by Colorado River allocations. She has asked the director of the Arizona Department of Water Resources to brief the commission in August, timed to when negotiations should be reaching a decision point.
Lea Marquez Peterson: A Commission That Works, and a Vote Nobody Is Courting
Asked whether five Republicans on one panel makes the work easier, Marquez Peterson gave credit without pretending at unanimity. The top priority, she said, is reliability — "it's life or death in the summer if you don't have air conditioning." The commissioners are "very professional, respectful, and we disagree, which I really appreciate, because it hasn't always been like that on the commission." She noted the practical constraint that shapes their conduct: strict open meeting laws mean no more than two of the five can be together at any point, so almost everything happens in public with cameras and media present. That, she suggested, is a discipline other elected bodies could stand to adopt.
She has endorsed Thompson and Myers, along with Walden and Lopez, arguing the commission needs continuity: "We need stability at the Corporation Commission like we've had, and we're laser focused on ensuring electricity, water and gas affordability."
On the election itself, Marquez Peterson — who led the Hispanic Chamber for nearly a decade — flagged a gap she thinks both parties should be embarrassed by. The Hispanic vote is "vitally important at all different offices," she said, but "I haven't seen either party particularly focused on" it. She expects that to change closer to November and hopes to see real investment: "bilingual use of Spanish media, bilingual outreach, outreach into the Hispanic areas and Hispanic events throughout the state."
Her closing instruction was logistical. She'd been fielding texts all week from people asking where to go and whether they could still mail a ballot. They cannot. "You need to take it to a voting center. The polls are open till seven tonight."
Cheryl Caswell: Running Against Incumbency in LD19
Cheryl Caswell — candidate for the Arizona House in Legislative District 19, member at large of the state party, and mother of grown triplets — joined between polling site visits. LD19 is enormous, covering eastern Pima and eastern Santa Cruz counties along with Cochise, Graham, and Greenlee.
Winn brought her on for a specific reason: to correct a social media post she considered dishonest. Among its claims was that Winn had donated $1,000 to Caswell's campaign. "I have not," Winn said. "I've encouraged you in other ways. I think I've given a little bit of money — but not that." Another claimed Winn was trying to distance herself from Caswell. "I don't need to distance myself from anybody," she said. Her broader objection was to the practice: "When you have to lie about the record of your opponent, or lie about your opponent, or make up stories" — that's a tell. "It tells me they're afraid."
Caswell's own framing was about access to a choice. She's spent roughly a decade in the district, starting as a census worker on redistricting counts, then elected precinct committeeman and state committeeman before serving as third vice chairman of the Pima County Republican Party. She now manages a team of ballot chasers for Turning Point Action. "Our voters have asked for a choice in candidates," she said, "because in our district it's been quite some time since we've had a choice in these races due to long-term incumbency."
She laid out the mechanism plainly. House members serve two terms before term limits bite, but candidates in her district have made a habit of switching chambers to reset the clock. Lupe Diaz, who is contesting her race, is entering a third term. David Gowan has held office for nearly 20 years, serving in the state Senate and now dropping back to the House. The inconsistency is what bothers her: "As I travel and I listen to their campaign, they're advocating for congressional term limits — but yet they won't respect the term limits here in our district."
Winn added a financial dimension. Legislative pay in Arizona is roughly $24,000 a year, but she said some LD19 representatives from Cochise County have built six-figure incomes on mileage reimbursement. "Yes, you do have to drive farther — but that was built into the cake in the beginning. It's dishonest."
Caswell's frustration with the primary's tone was the emotional center of her segment. "We used to have statesmen that had a certain amount of professionalism and decorum," she said. What she's watched in LD17 and LD19 is establishment incumbency "hitting below the belt — places and things that were usually off-limits. Children, family." Her ask was simple: "Let's run on the issues. Let's talk about the things that we're going to do for the citizens." When long-term incumbents attack grassroots candidates over convoluted intra-party disputes, she said, she can only conclude one thing: "They are fearful that they would be losing their career. It's about a career for them. For me, it's about you, the citizens."
Winn read aloud a similar attack circulating in LD17, which cast candidate Anthony Dunham as "LD17's Donald Trump, an extreme MAGA conservative," faulted him for Turning Point's endorsement and for opposing limits on what it called Arizona's "runaway school choice program," and argued it was "time for us to move on from Donald Trump." Winn's reaction was disbelief bordering on amusement — "Are you serious right now?" — and she noted that roughly 30 percent of the opposing candidate's donations come from out of state. "All the influence that is negative in our state right now is because people are trying to come in and take over our resources."
Cheryl Caswell: Priorities From a District That Spans Five Counties
Asked what she'd actually do in office, Caswell named three committee assignments and the reasons behind each.
Military affairs and elections. "Elections are really deep in my heart. It's the start of where I began in this party." She has served as a Pima County election integrity commissioner and works as a vote center inspector. She credited recent wins in Pima County, including the federal court ruling letting military and law enforcement personnel vote in uniform — a fight Winn described as a backhanded attempt to keep ICE agents from voting that had to be written broadly enough to sweep in all first responders and military. "That's voter suppression," Caswell said, "and that's what we're seeing."
Land, agriculture, and rural affairs. The district's geography demands it. "I've put thousands of miles on my car," she said, describing conversations with miners in Morenci and Clifton, ranchers and farmers across Graham and Cochise, and wineries and ranchers down in Sonoita — while also working suburban issues on the Pima County side.
Education. Caswell got her start in politics through education and wants to strengthen school choice. Her formulation of the principle: "There is definitely guardrails needed on government more than it's needed on the taxpayer." She's glad the option exists for her rural communities — some of which don't even have broadband — and argued expansion shouldn't come at the cost of public education, since many working families lack the time to homeschool. Both agreed the ESA opponents appear to have abandoned their ballot measure for now, which Caswell counted as a victory that now has to be defended at the Capitol.
Underneath all three is affordability. Caswell moved to Arizona from outside Chicago thirty years ago, when the state was a supermajority. She'd like it back there, so that "on day one a great governor such as Andy Biggs would be able to get the things accomplished that our citizens need" on taxation and cost of living, "so everyone can afford the American dream here in Arizona."
She closed with an assessment of the electorate that doubled as a theory of the midterm. "Our voters understand the assignment," she said. "The real goal is to get at Donald Trump after a midterm election, and we aren't going to let that happen."
Winn noted that LD19 was leading the county — not in raw votes, but in turnout percentage — and returned to a grievance she raised repeatedly: Green Valley, which turns out at 85 percent in general elections, saw its polling places cut from 13 to three. "Things like that are not accidents. They know it, and they knew going in."
Derek Weech: What the Numbers Say
Derek Weech, political director of the Arizona Republican Party, works directly under state chairman Sergio Arellano. His job description is one sentence: "My whole job is to elect Republicans." Practically, that means data — making sure candidates, volunteers, and anyone who wants to help has the right data points to work their own precincts.
His numbers for the morning were mixed but useful. Republican registration has grown its statewide lead since 2024 — he believed roughly doubled, without the figure in front of him. More Republican ballots than Democratic ballots had come in, and Election Day itself historically breaks Republican. From the 10 a.m. tear sheets in Maricopa County, 60 percent of ballots cast at the polls to that point were Republican. He was candid about why he couldn't offer the same for Pima: Arizona has no single office to call for election data. "You have to talk to all 15 counties, and not all counties have their stuff together."
The number that concerned him most was total participation. Comparing against 2022 — the most equivalent recent midterm — fewer people were voting in this primary statewide, in both parties. He turned that into an argument rather than a lament: "Your vote always counts, but especially counts today, because there's not many people that are voting. So your vote is just that much more powerful."
His procedural advice was the most actionable thing said all morning for anyone in doubt about their registration: go vote in person. "If you vote in person and you voted by mail, your mail vote will be canceled and the in-person one will be the one that's counted. So if you have any doubts, please go vote today in person."
Winn raised the PND problem she'd been fielding all day — voters who'd interacted with the Motor Vehicles Division and were flipped from Republican to "party not declared" because they didn't click through every screen. She'd taken more than 40 such calls personally. Weech hadn't encountered it directly but said he'd raise it with the party's election integrity director. Both agreed on the fix and the timing: after the canvass, the party can build lists of affected voters and reach out. "Check your registration now," Winn urged. "Don't wait till it's time to vote in the general election."
Weech's read on the Democratic side came from an unlikely source. Watching the FIFA World Cup, he noticed "every other ad was a Katie Hobbs ad" — and wondered why a governor with no primary opponent was spending hundreds of thousands of dollars. "It's clear that she is very afraid of us. The Democrats are on the run right now." He pointed to the Republican-led legislature passing the president's tax package as evidence of momentum. But he immediately warned against the conclusion people draw from good news: "Don't sit with that hope. The worst thing that we can do is believe that the election is a foregone conclusion one way or the other and just sit outside of it."
Winn added her own case against the governor, arguing Hobbs is under investigation over pay-to-play allegations involving licensing, and that Arizona has prospered under Republican governors — Jan Brewer, Doug Ducey — while drug deaths, falling nationally, have risen here. "Those aren't political problems," she said. "Those are policy problems."
On unity after a bruising primary, Weech was unequivocal. "If your candidate that you voted for in the primary did not get through, that's unfortunate, and we can talk about that election. But get behind our Republican primary winners." Pima County, he stressed, is where the party's attention belongs. "People don't realize Pima County is second place for total votes" on the final canvass. "That's where the Democrats kind of have an edge on us — and if the Republicans in Pima County can show up, we can put them on their heels right before the general election even starts."
His final thought turned the microphone back on the audience. "Derek Weech cannot carry our Republicans across the line. Kathleen Winn cannot carry our Republicans across the line. It is you, the voter. I can only provide the data. It's up to you to use it and go out there and encourage people to vote. This is kind of a hinge point for the state of Arizona."
Eileen Wilson: Reports From the Ground in Green Valley
Eileen Wilson called from the United Republicans office in Green Valley with the morning's most specific problem — and its solution.
The information gap. With Green Valley reduced to three voting sites, Wilson found voters defaulting to Green Valley Recreation because that's what the recorder's early-voting page had listed. "There's nothing that comes out between early voting where people can go on a website and find, for the one day of voting, where you're supposed to go." Her office was giving out the three locations directly, and offering something more: she and other precinct committeemen were driving voters to the polls themselves.
The verification problem. At the Community Performing Arts Center site, voters walking in with signed mail ballots were asking about ballot verification and being told by a worker to simply drop the ballot in the box. One of Wilson's people intervened; the worker's response was that nobody had told her otherwise. Wilson called it into the hotline immediately.
Winn's instruction to listeners was firm. If you bring in a signed ballot, make sure it gets verified — that's what allows it to be counted right away instead of waiting on signature verification. "If the worker there isn't smart enough to know that's the rule, then you ask for the supervisor. They don't get to reinvent this on election day." A text from Supervisor Steve Christy's office corrected the terminology mid-segment: ask for the inspector at the vote center, not the supervisor. Winn relayed the correction on air. Wilson noted the Quail Creek site at the Madera Clubhouse was running smoothly, with Bobby Wilson serving as inspector, and directed anyone uncertain about their ballot there.
By that point Winn had logged more than 60 reports. Her read was not that anyone was overwhelmed but that the pattern had direction. "They want to turn out the vote in places where no one ever votes, and in places where people vote 85 percent of the time they've cut back the resources. If that isn't intentional, I don't know what is." She was equally clear about the response: document, don't confront. "We are making a record of everything. Some things may be dismissed, but ultimately we are going to fight for your right to vote and for fair and free and equitable elections."
Her standard for the county's election apparatus was brutally simple. "They have one job, and that is to conduct elections. They don't do your taxes. They don't manage your utilities."
Wilson's prediction for Green Valley turnout was ambitious. They'd been sitting around 34 percent; she expected to finish near 55. Winn took the bet on the spot: "I love that you get to 55 percent. I'll buy you dinner and a drink."
The Hotline, the Paper, and How to Fix a Ballot
Three practical items ran through the entire broadcast.
The paper problem in Marana. Ballots were being printed on standard copy paper rather than the heavier, thicker stock the tabulators are built to read. Copy paper won't scan reliably. Winn told listeners they have the right to challenge a ballot that doesn't feel right and to re-vote. That it surfaced only in Marana — where a contentious town council race is on the ballot — struck her as more than coincidence. "Color me suspicious."
The hotline. Anyone witnessing an irregularity was asked to call 520-900-0419. Winn's framing was consistent all morning: note it, don't interrupt poll workers, and report it. "See something, say something." Attorneys were on the ground, with an after-action review planned. "We're going to fight back legally. We're going to fight back factually, not emotionally, because that's what intelligent, thoughtful people do."
The PND flip. Voters who assumed they were on the early ballot list often weren't — 2025 held five elections, several conducted entirely by mail, and March's RTA election was all-mail, creating the illusion of permanent early status. Separately, DMV interactions have reclassified some registered Republicans as party not declared. Either way, the same remedy applied: show up in person with ID and request a Republican ballot. Then fix the registration after the primary rather than discovering the problem again in November.
Kathleen Winn: 'Consider It Like a Draft'
Winn's closing argument leaned on the analogy she'd been using all week. "Today we're drafting our leaders. We're drafting who we want to take over the state." The primary, in that framing, isn't the championship — it's the roster decision that determines whether you can compete in one.
Her one procedural plea was against the under-vote. "It's okay to not like either candidate, but do put somebody forward," she said. Leaving a race blank isn't neutrality; it's abstention with extra steps. She'd talked to a voter the day before who hadn't done her homework and didn't know who the current governor was — not a scolding, in Winn's telling, but a reason to build the habit now, before November.
She tied the stakes to what she sees elsewhere. New York's mayor, Zohran Mamdani, was her example of extremity paired with unpreparedness — a man claiming an authority to arrest a foreign head of state that his office plainly does not have. "It's about ego and being liked by a group of people, and it's about the socialist movement." Her message to young voters drew on the most recent shared experience she could reach for: "You hated COVID. You hated being locked down. You hated no socialization. It's like that — but forever. So stop giving away our freedoms."
Locally, she made a specific ask. In Supervisor District 5, Jeff Rhodes is running as a write-in; 150 write-in votes puts him on the November ballot. "That would be a great direction to take the Board of Supervisors — to let them know that we want Steve Christy to have someone to second his motions." Two voices, she argued, produce discussion; one produces a rubber stamp. She thinks even Rex Scott and Matt Heinz would have to respond to genuine balance on the board.
She reserved her sharpest words for public safety, and framed it as the one issue that shouldn't be partisan at all. Days after a downtown shooting, she noted, the mayor's response wasn't to commend law enforcement but to talk about taking guns away. "Then you become a sitting duck. That's not political — that's public safety, and public safety isn't political, or it shouldn't be." She ran through what she considers ideology's local receipts: a bus system that no longer functions, a police department short of officers, more drugs than Chicago, and members of Congress standing outside detention centers advocating for people here illegally "over you, the U.S. citizens."
Her turnout target for Pima County was 40 percent overall, with Green Valley chasing 55 and important municipal races in Marana, Oro Valley, and Sahuarita. The election night gathering was set for 6 p.m. at the Union Public House, 4340 North Campbell Avenue, in the courtyard — red, white and blue encouraged, big screen up, results expected around eight, with thanks to Grant Krueger. Bring friends, she said, even non-PCs, "just so they can get a sense."
"Too big to rig," she said, "is show up, vote, and let the Democrats know we still care, we're still fighting, and we want to take back our state."