Is It Time to Recall Commissioner Alexis Hill? Her Campaign is One of Privilege …
Pahrump Valley Times - January 23, 2026
It’s a fair question—and one Washoe County residents are starting to ask out loud.
Commissioner Alexis Hill ran in 2024 telling voters she wanted nothing more than to serve the people of Washoe County. Then Donald Trump was elected president and—almost overnight—Hill announced she was “compelled” to run for governor of Nevada. Apparently, the calling to serve District 1 came with an asterisk.
Last week, Hill wasn’t even on the dais—calling in by phone instead—while continuing to collect a paycheck from Washoe County taxpayers. Meanwhile, she’s crisscrossing the state on her self-branded “Ask Alexis Anything” tour, carefully positioning herself for a political future that political insiders widely agree does not include winning the governor’s race.
So what is this about?
Ask around and you’ll hear the same whispers: Congress. Senate. Something in 2028. This campaign feels less like a serious run for governor and more like a paid audition—funded by Washoe County residents who thought they were electing a full-time commissioner.
Take seniors, for example. Hill skipped the county’s holiday breakfast for Washoe County seniors—an event that, frankly, deserved better than a hash brown and a strip of bacon. Yet somehow she found time to charm seniors in Pahrump, where she reportedly spoke with 27 voters at a senior center. Funny how seniors matter when they’re outside her own district.
This isn’t public service—it’s political convenience.
If Commissioner Hill believes her future lies beyond Washoe County, then the ethical move is simple: resign. Step aside and let District 1 be represented by someone who actually wants the job—not someone using it as a launchpad while keeping a seat warm “just in case.”
Instead, Hill gets the best of all worlds: statewide exposure, donor attention, and a guaranteed county paycheck—with the option to quietly return to the dais after losing a Democratic primary in June.
That’s not leadership. That’s entitlement.
And when an elected official starts treating public office like a costume change—commissioner today, gubernatorial candidate tomorrow—voters are right to ask whether a recall is not only justified, but overdue.
After all, someone clearly thinks Alexis Hill is a princess.
That someone appears to be Alexis Hill. So let’s look at how she is raising funds for this run.
Mike’s Reno Report did what campaigns hate most—it followed the money. And what it found tells voters everything they need to know about Alexis Hill’s so-called “people-powered” run for governor.
Hill has already loaned her own campaign $110,000. Not exactly spare change. Then came the family assist: $10,000 from mom, $10,000 from dad, and another $5,000 from a family member. Must be nice to float a six-figure political vanity project and not lose sleep over it.
That’s not grassroots.
That’s generational cushioning.
These are not the finances of the rank-and-file Nevadan juggling groceries, rent, and gas. This is the 1% funding model, where failure is inconvenient—not devastating. A failed gubernatorial campaign becomes little more than an expensive résumé builder.
But the spending gets better.
Mike’s Reno Report also pointed out “Hill’s campaign has already shelled out $202,710 to a single firm—Changing Dynamics. Sound familiar? It should. It’s the same firm being used by a current councilmember running for mayor and a Washoe County commissioner seeking reelection. Politics may be about ideas, but cash still talks—and it’s speaking very loudly to consultants.”
With four more months left in the campaign and fundraising clearly leaning heavily on personal and family wealth, one question hangs in the air:
How exactly does Alexis Hill plan to financially sustain this run?
More loans? More family checks? Or is this campaign already serving its true purpose—name recognition, networking, and future positioning—while Washoe County taxpayers continue footing the bill for a commissioner whose attention is elsewhere?
Sure, flaunt it if you’ve got it.
Just don’t pretend it’s relatable—or representative of Nevada.
Because when a campaign is propped up by six figures in self-loans and family money, the word that comes to mind isn’t inspiring.
It’s entitled.