Mamdani’s ‘Bro’ Culture in City Hall: Sports, Memes, Nicknames for All

In the frigid final days of December, as Zohran Mamdani was preparing to take office as mayor, he was still in need of a trusted hand to run his press operation in New York City.

His 27-year-old political adviser, Morris Katz, had someone in mind: Joe Calvello, a 34-year-old who had worked for Senator John Fetterman and the mayor of Chicago, Brandon Johnson. But Mr. Calvello needed some persuading.

So Mr. Mamdani and Mr. Katz decided to ambush him at a moment when his guard might be down. They made their move around midnight in the after-haze of a concert at Madison Square Garden, where Mr. Calvello was seeing his favorite jam band, Phish.

Much has been made of Mr. Mamdani’s inner circle, and how he has replaced traditional municipal power brokers with like-minded democratic socialists, who share his urgency to tax the rich, blended in with a few older, more experienced hands.

But he also brought with him his bros, 20- and 30-something men and women who get his cheeky humor and cultural references, whether to Drake, the hip-hop group Das Racist, the movie “Anchorman” or the rosters of various World Cup teams.

As much as Mr. Mamdani’s team runs on leftist idealism and social media bravado, it is also imbued with sports fanaticism, nonstop razzing, practical jokes and various forms of nicotine (especially Zyn). It runs on people committing to the bit.

Not everyone in City Hall fits in, prompting some good-natured eye rolls, especially when late-night budget talks among City Council members had to compete with the cheers of 20-somethings down the hall watching soccer.

The serious, suit-and-tie-wearing denizens of City Hall are still represented, like deputy mayor Dean Fuleihan and the corporation counsel, Steven Banks — trusted names in New York City who basically doubled the administration’s median age. There is also governance by group chat, the circle of bros — women included — communicating through a shared sense of the mayor’s humor, according to conversations with more than a dozen of his friends and colleagues.

The mayor is, at once, cl*** clown and earnest civics teacher, scamp and serious disciple of Fiorello H. La Guardia. Neither side can be lopped off entirely.

“At City Hall, we’ve built a culture where we can do the serious work of making this city better while finding joy in doing it together,” said Dora Pekec, a spokeswoman for the mayor.

Bro is a term casually applied just as often to women these days, Mr. Mamdani’s colleagues emphasized, noting that the mayor refers to both men and women in his administration as “brother.” And the mayor’s culture of bits and bros has not sparked the kind of backlash seen, for instance, to Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont and his “Bernie Bros,” leftist men who were dismissive of women’s political concerns.

But there have also been times when the mayor’s impish edge, and that of his administration, has caused problems. There was the infamous video of Mr. Mamdani announcing New York’s new pied-à-terre tax, which he filmed right outside Ken Griffin’s condo, prompting the billionaire to threaten to move some of his business.

When the city started sending out notices to people warning them about paying this tax, the mayor again took a victory lap on social media, telling recipients to “check your mailbox when you’re back in the five boroughs — because you’ve got mail.” The joke aged poorly, after the city’s rollout to determine who must pay the tax was confusing, poorly communicated and ultimately stalled in court.

At other times, the bro qualities in City Hall are more benign. The mayor has been known to nudge his aides to hop on a Citi Bike, or push the bounds of how much running a city can involve playing sports. He loves what Aaron Sorkin or old-time mob bosses might call a “walk and talk,” in which he grabs someone from their desk to accompany him on a 10-block stroll. He teased his staff members when he noticed on social media that they got together without him.

There’s also the way Mr. Mamdani intertwines politics and sports. Although the mayor is only a casual basketball fan, his Knicks championship speech at City Hall was widely praised for being steeped in emotion and team history because of the mayor’s 29-year-old Knicks-loving speechwriter Julian Gerson, who also crowdsourced Knicks memories from other aides.

The night that Mr. Mamdani’s slate of candidates all won their New York House primaries, the mayor had the idea to post a meme of championship ring-holder Jalen Brunson — a brazen way of saying he had proved the haters wrong. (One of his aides was quick with a “Hell yeah” affirmation.)

“Zohran can be a bro in a positive way,” said Grace Mauser, 31, co-chair of New York City’s chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America. “He embraces popular culture in a way that could be bro-y or jock-y, but he wants to bring joy.”

Still, the boyish culture of Mr. Mamdani’s administration has veered close to some sensitive areas for the progressive left. In 2016, women working on Mr. Sanders’s presidential run said they had faced pay disparities and even har***ment, which they felt had been brushed aside by the campaign.

Around this time, podcasts like “Chapo Trap House” became the face of an ascendant “dirtbag left,” members of the progressive movement known for rowdy, block jokes and sometimes outright misogyny — convinced, according to some critics, that their progressive activism made them immune to charges of ***ism. (Mr. Mamdani appeared on Chapo Trap House twice in 2025 while running for mayor.)

Some observers of Mr. Mamdani’s world say his aides and organizers are more sensitive, and are conscious of avoiding that history.

“It’s not the dirtbag left — it’s like the dirtbag left has been vacuumed,” said Amanda Litman, a progressive political organizer and author of a book on millennial leadership. “There’s still some edge there, but they’re not using ***ist language toward colleagues. They’re just being dudes.”

The result is that Mr. Mamdani’s irreverent sense of humor is now part of the fabric of city government. In meetings at Gracie Mansion with progressive organizers, he has asked for their latest gossip; bumping into staff members juggling an especially tough set of issues, he has lightened the mood with a tease. In news conferences, confronted with a tense question, Mr. Mamdani tends to deflect with a joke. Asked recently about his views on the Michigan congressional candidate, Dr. Abdul El Sayed, the mayor quipped: “He can lift a lot more than I can.”

The social lives of those working in a government administration are bound to reflect whoever is in charge. Mayor Bill de Blasio was known as a homebody who liked to spend his time sleeping in, working out at the Y.M.C.A., and hanging with his wife. Mayor Eric Adams preferred hobnobbing at the private members’ club Zero Bond. And Mr. Mamdani is an avowed extrovert who likes to eat out (whether at Koronet Pizza or Kabab King), go to sports games and even pop into staffers’ birthday drinks.

“Boys love to tease each other,” said Michael Lange, 27, a political ***yst and D.S.A. member who has known Mr. Mamdani for years. “The one thing I’d been missing in organizing spaces was that sense of teasing camaraderie, and Zohran and his friends, who I’ve come to know really well, have really filled that void.”

Ross Barkan, a journalist and former State Senate candidate whose own campaign was managed by Mr. Mamdani, used to watch him do hammy impressions of other politicians, mimicking State Senator Marty Golden’s Brooklyn accent. Mr. Barkan also recalled how Mr. Mamdani liked to stick people with cheeky nicknames. (Mr. Barkan became “Broadway Barkan,” because he had been criticized for getting donations from Manhattan instead of his campaign district in Queens; Mr. Barkan called the mayor “#1 Spice,” a reference to one of his old rap videos.)

Alex Pellitteri, 26, who worked with Mr. Mamdani on numerous campaigns, said the mayor became so insistent that Mr. Pellitteri get a buzz cut fade — a once edgy haircut — that Mr. Mamdani accompanied him to the salon to ensure it happened.

“He can have a real vicious sense of humor,” Mr. Barkan, 36, said. “It’s very much part of his M.O., and I’m someone who grew up that way, razzing other people.”

Ms. Litman, 36, who founded Run For Something, which recruits young people to run for office, believes that any politician should build workplace environments that resist staid, stiff tedium, because otherwise staffers will leave.

“It’s a way to build a sense of camaraderie when you’re doing a really hard job,” she said, adding about Mr. Mamdani: “He’s a guys’ guy. He can hang.”