Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: How much can Democrats slow down Trump?

A tricky thing to communicate about the upcoming midterms is that, at the federal level, the impact may not be what’s expected, at least when it comes to slowing President Donald Trump’s agenda.

Hear me out. Say the blue wave predicted by most polling materializes on November 3, and Democrats take the House and even squeak out a slim Senate majority. What happens next? Does that stop Trump from executing his agenda? Does the White House moderate its message in response to an electoral backlash?

The evidence suggests no.

Because the backlash is real, the political incentives aren’t.

Let me explain: The numbers do look rough for Trump. Pew had his approval rating at 30 percent in a survey conducted September 28 to October 4, the lowest of his second term, with Democrats up eight on the generic House ballot. Reuters/Ipsos had him at 32 percent in early October. Polling averages are a bit higher, roughly 37 percent to 39 percent depending on the aggregator. Ballotpedia’s September average put Democrats at 50 percent on the generic ballot to Republicans’ 43 percent.

But none of that is moving him. Trump is fundamentally shameless, untethered to traditional political incentives, and increasingly unhinged in his second term. He initiated a war with Iran that quite literally no one wanted. He’s plowing ahead with renewed mass deportation efforts even as Republicans urge him to abort the mission. He’s more unpopular by the month, and more consumed by vanity projects in Washington: the White House ballroom, a federal takeover of a DC golf course, whatever’s happening at the reflecting pool.

More importantly, he’s been quietly preparing for this moment of backlash, legally and politically. If there’s one theme of Trump’s second term, beyond the promises of retribution, it’s his drive to grow executive power to the point where he’s insulated from political consequences. And the courts have largely backed him.

Let’s run the tape

The legacy of Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency was less about finding waste, fraud, and abuse than about asserting presidential power over the federal bureaucracy. Trump has brought independent agencies to heel, firing members of the National Labor Relations Board and the Federal Trade Commission. In Trump v. Slaughter, the Supreme Court sided with him 6-3, overturning the 90-year-old Humphrey’s Executor precedent that had limited when presidents could remove agency heads. (The one notable exception: The Court refused, 5-4, to let him remove Fed governor Lisa Cook for now.)

His immigration push included federalizing National Guard troops for domestic purposes. He’s pursued unilateral military action that breaks precedent, like the Caribbean boat strikes on suspected drug smugglers. And he’s picked another fight with Congress that’s headed to court, unilaterally withholding roughly $800 million in congressionally approved funds from 11 programs supporting refugees and asylum-seekers, minority business development, housing counseling, and more.

To be clear, I don’t believe this anti-democratic throughline is happenstance. Trump has systematically used his first two years back in office to grow the power of the presidency and find ways to execute his agenda without Congress, as he did with his many tariffs — which he also claims, wrongly, that he can use to personally authorize $5,000 checks. His MAGA base has always believed the ends justify the means, but this White House has gone a step further, making clear it won’t be constrained by pesky things like federal law, separation of powers, and checks and balances. More explicitly, it openly subscribes to the “unitary executive” theory advanced in Project 2025, which argues, in essence, that the president has total control over the executive branch, including agencies like the FBI and Justice Department that have traditionally exercised some independence. 

Don’t believe me? Here’s Trump at a Turning Point conference in 2019: “Then I have an Article II, where I have the right to do whatever I want as president.” Or early in his second term: “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law.”

Stephen Miller said the quiet part out loud last year, too. In an interview on CNN’s News Central, he froze after asserting that the president has “plenary authority,” meaning Trump’s power is unreviewable and unquestioned.

And here’s a line from Project 2025, which basically foretold our current constitutional crisis: The next Republican White House “must take seriously the duty to protect the powers and privileges of the President from encroachments by Congress, the judiciary, and the administrative components of departments and agencies.” 

Is that how democracy works? 

So what does that mean for the midterms?

Of course, it’s tricky to be predictive. But when I hear Democrats say a new congressional majority will hold Trump accountable, I wonder if they should qualify those promises with a reality check.

No blue wave can overcome the structural realities of gerrymandering, which has collapsed the number of competitive districts and disincentivized compromise. Cook Political Report found that mid-decade redistricting cut the number of competitive House seats from 87 to 77, meaning Democrats now need to win 57 of those 77 to take the chamber, up from 59 of 87 under the old lines. Cook projected Republicans gaining roughly eight seats from the redraws, Democrats two. Cook’s David Wasserman has noted that fewer than 5 percent of Americans are living in the districts that will truly decide House control. Control of the House is still up for grabs, but the narrower playing field makes sweeping change much harder.

No wave can overcome conservative control of the courts, which has only grown in Trump’s second term. And most crucially, a wave matters less to a White House that thinks in such absolute terms, and sees Congress as something to be overcome, not worked with.

In a typical administration, all the conditions for Trump’s last two years would point toward de-escalation. The public has fallen out of love with the administration’s priorities, he won’t be on the ballot in 2028, and Republicans would theoretically be freer to chart their own course.

But as Trump has proven time and again, there’s no guarantee those rules apply to him, or to this version of the GOP. If anything, the 2024 presidential primary showed that Republicans are more likely to rally around Trump when they feel he’s being targeted by liberal Democrats.

That doesn’t mean the midterms don’t matter

Far from it. As we explored on America, Actually last week, there are important state and local races that will determine Americans’ access to healthcare, abortion rights, and more. The results will shape how each party approaches 2028. And a Democratic-led House or Senate could certainly make Trump’s life harder, particularly through investigations or impeachment efforts or by blocking cabinet picks and judicial nominees.

Trump will go down fighting to make Project 2025 our reality, and no matter what happens in November, the first two years were just the start.

But the question I get most often on the road is: Will November stop Trump’s agenda? To that, I think it’s important to be skeptical.

Politically, Trump is unlikely to exit stage left gracefully, and will likely hog the spotlight even as the GOP kicks off its primary to replace him. More importantly, he’s spent two years showing his hand, prioritizing an all-powerful executive branch that can thumb its nose at anyone who interferes.

The lame-duck stretch of a presidency is typically its sleepiest, as the administration focuses on limiting damage to its legacy and setting up a smooth succession. With Trump, I expect the opposite. He’ll go down fighting to make Project 2025 our reality, and no matter what happens in November, the first two years were just the start.

One thing I’m hearing

This week, we talked to Estefanía Pinto Ruiz, a democracy‚ immigration, and rural communities reporter for Enlace Latino NC. Considering how central Latino voters are to this year’s midterm elections, I wanted to ask her about her coverage of that community in North Carolina, an important battleground state. 

You reported on Latino voters’ exposure to political misinformation in Spanish. What did you learn about how language and platforms shape the information voters encounter?

One key lesson I learned from my reporting is that language and other media-related factors affect access to and understanding of political information․

A survey conducted by Marisa Abrajano‚ a political science professor at the University of California San Diego‚ found that Latinos who got news from Spanish-language social media were 11 percentage points more likely to believe political falsehoods in the survey than Latinos who got news from English-language social media․

But a major distinction is that the research found a correlation but not a causal link between the two behaviors․ Reading news in Spanish doesn’t mean people are more likely to be exposed to misinformation․

Another important takeaway is the role of social media and video sites like WhatsApp and YouTube․ Many Latino adults rely on these sites along with or in place of Spanish-language media sources for political news․ News they receive on WhatsApp from family and friends can shape their views of information from other sources․

Your newsroom has asked readers to share election information they’re unsure about. What questions or claims are coming in, and what do they reveal about the confusion voters are facing?

Oftentimes people are unsure about the basic mechanism of voting: where they are supposed to vote, what their ballot will look like, or what happens if they encounter an issue at the polls. The confusion can also often come from information shared by official sources. For example, we’ve covered voters who received letters from the State Board of Elections asking them to review their registration information and worried about what that meant for their right to vote. We’ve also reported on allegations of misinformation during voter registration drives, including cases in which canvassers were falsely presented as election officials.

Beyond those stories, what are you hearing locally about the midterms that you think the national political conversation is missing?

First, the top issue is the cost of living: groceries, rent, utilities, and gas. Immigration enforcement comes close behind, but voters hold both worries at once, and they don’t vote as a monolithic bloc. Conservative and progressive groups here both say voters judge candidates on tangible outcomes, not party loyalty.

Second, this electorate is young, and that youth is often mistaken for apathy. Roughly a third of eligible Latino voters in North Carolina are under 25, and the median age is 35, compared with 48 for the state’s electorate overall. In my reporting at Enlace Latino NC, I see many first-generation citizens whose parents stayed away from US politics because of experiences with corruption or violence in their home countries. Emanuel Ramirez, 20, an NC State student, said his father fled a military coup in Guatemala and his mother violence in Colombia, and that his parents avoided US politics because they knew how dangerous political involvement could be. Emanuel taught himself the process and pre-registered at 16. Grassroots groups are using peer-to-peer outreach, often in Spanglish, to make voting less intimidating for families navigating it for the first time.

Third, national attention tends to center on federal policy, but state and local decisions are directly shaping how this election is run. Voters and advocates tell us that changing rules can create real hurdles, especially for first-time voters. Wake County replaced the long-standing Talley Student Union polling site at NC State with the Business Services Center as part of a record 18 early voting sites. While officials say they have expanded access countywide, students note that far more people voted early at Talley in 2020 and 2024 than at the replacement site.

Meanwhile, state election guidelines for processing mail-in ballots have tightened: Mail-in ballots will not be counted if the inner envelope is unsealed or signatures do not match, among other changes. Additionally, the State Board of Elections is sending letters asking 1,599 registered voters, flagged as potential noncitizens by a federal database, to confirm their citizenship or face removal from the rolls. While officials clarify that letter recipients can still vote, critics note the database is prone to errors, and advocates worry the notices could discourage eligible citizens right before early voting.

The Wisconsin gubernatorial race was one of the most closely watched Democratic primaries in the country this year, pitting a democratic socialist, state Rep. Francesca Hong, against Milwaukee Democrat David Crowley, who received the endorsement of the state’s sitting Democratic governor, Tony Evers.

Hong lost the race, setting up Crowley to face Republican Rep. Tom Tiffany in the general election this fall. But she’s already back on the campaign trail, this time trying to help Democrats win a trifecta in the state: the governor’s race and both legislative chambers.

Unifying the state’s voters to achieve that won’t be easy, though. Hong spoke with America, Actually host Astead Herndon about her own loss, Evers’s role in it, and whether or not the voters who felt so passionate about her own campaign would find enough to love in Crowley’s campaign — in particular on the increasingly important issue of data centers. 

Astead and Hong also talked about what Wisconsin means for the Democrats nationally, and what lessons the party should take from her race, including her loss.

“I said this, and I will continue to say it — the person who is most electable is the person who ended up getting the most votes, and that was Crowley this time around,” Hong said. “But I think there’s a disservice when you have the most powerful Democrat in the state choosing to ignore a lot of voters and people who were inspired and energized and coming out to participate in politics for the first time through our campaign. I think it was shortsighted to use electability almost as a fear tactic.”

Below is an excerpt of Astead’s conversation with Hong, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

Part of the reason we wanted to come here was because we saw you were getting back on the campaign trail, and specifically around that idea of energizing Wisconsin toward a trifecta.

Now, just tell me the difference in terms of the importance of Democrats winning it all — not only the governor’s mansion, but both houses of the state legislature — versus just the governor’s mansion. How does that change the possibilities of what the party could do?

For the last 16 years, a Republican majority in the state legislature has meant that passing the types of policies that we know can drastically improve the lives of everyday folks here in Wisconsin stalled. And we have a historic opportunity to flip the assembly and the state Senate and hold the governor’s mansion and the entire executive branch to a Democratic majority, meaning the opportunity to pass the policies that the majority of our state supports — things like increasing minimum wage, things like legalizing marijuana, codifying abortion. 

We also need to repeal Act 10 [which dramatically restricted collective bargaining rights for public-sector employees]. Wisconsin is where workers’ rights, things like unemployment insurance, Social Security were born, and we moved backwards with the Republican majority. That’s all on the table with the Democratic trifecta.

It also, though, raises the political standard of what Democrats would have to do to achieve that, and some of it goes through these more rural communities.

Why do we think the party has fallen behind in more rural communities, and what could be done to reverse that?

I think it’s important to look at what’s happened in the rural communities when we’ve seen manufacturing jobs leave the state, when we’ve seen fewer and fewer supports for our small farmers.

And so much of this — what connects it — is actually the growth of massive wealth and corporate control and corporate greed, and more people feeling the impacts of that. There’s an opportunity right now to say, ‘Hey, Republicans have been in the legislature, they’ve been in power, and things have not improved for you or your community … Now’s the opportunity to make sure that we’re actually able to see our shared Wisconsin values of working hard and taking care of our kids be reflected back in Madison through laws.’

So much of your campaign was focused on data centers, stopping data centers. Should I think of that as a rural issue?

I think the issue around data centers is an everyone issue. It’s a democracy issue. It’s people wanting to feel like there are folks who care about what happens to communities, and that they have control and an actual say in what happens in their communities.

To that point, is it a mistake for David Crowley, the Democratic nominee, to have not gone as far as you did and say, “We won’t be building more data centers for a period of time”?

He’s fighting for communities and community control when it comes to data centers.

But it’s not a moratorium.

But it’s not a moratorium. It isn’t, but he’s also committed to 100 percent renewable energy, clean energy to power data centers.

And achieving that is going to be incredibly difficult, and it is going to be the developers having to pay their own way, and these are things that he’s committed to that we know can slow down the growth and development of data centers. 

Have you had time to reflect on your primary loss? If you had to diagnose, why do you think you lost?

I’m still doing a lot of reflection. But I think that I want to continue to look forward. And what I’ve learned from our election is that it’s so important to continue to stay grounded in becoming accessible to people. I think that as an organizer and an elected official, it’s my responsibility to continue to go to the people and remain very in touch with what’s going on on the ground.

I have a couple more questions about the nature of the loss. Evers’s endorsement changed that race, so much so that your opponent David Crowley was able even to win in some smaller communities, like places where you were pitching yourself as the voice of more rural communities.

Does that disprove any of this thesis around, say, data centers? If that was the top priority for Wisconsin voters, wouldn’t you be the nominee?

I think it wasn’t all rural communities. It wasn’t all suburban communities. We saw certain demographics but also ZIP codes where we outperformed David significantly.

And I think that where the governor’s endorsement played a bigger role was areas where he was also more popular. 

Did it surprise you when Evers endorsed Crowley?

I was disappointed.

Why?

I was disappointed because I was getting a lot of feedback from folks who hadn’t committed to any candidate yet that this felt like the governor was putting his thumb on the scale.

I wanted to ask about electability, because it seemed as if Evers’s endorsement was about a fear that maybe you couldn’t win in November.

So much of the primary concern was around the DSA label, even campaigning with folks like Hasan Piker. In retrospect, was any of that a mistake?

We knew going in that we would have to encourage new voters to come out, folks who typically do not come out for primaries, quote-unquote low-propensity voters. And we knew that we would have to campaign in places where folks weren’t expecting to see a gubernatorial candidate. And those included Twitch streams.

Those also included going to dive bars and bowling alleys and making sure that we were accessible and shaping our policies based on what the people were telling us they wanted to see happen and also what they wanted to see out of their governor. I think electability… I said this, and I will continue to say it — the person who is most electable is the person who ended up getting the most votes, and that was Crowley this time around.

But I think there’s a disservice when you have the most powerful Democrat in the state choosing to ignore a lot of voters and people who were inspired and energized and coming out to participate in politics for the first time through our campaign.

I think it was shortsighted to use electability almost as a fear tactic, when Democrats need to be inspiring and project a vision where everyone can see themselves in it as everyday working-class folks.

When you’ve got a party that has struggled with elitism to then cave to an establishment narrative … being more afraid of labels when I’m hearing from people on the ground that they’re interested in solutions and solving problems, maybe somebody who knows the hustle of the service industry and running restaurants and has worked across the aisle to pass bipartisan legislation. There are ways that we can maneuver around labels and what the loudest narrative might be.

I wish our governor hadn’t fed into that.

To be fair, to your point, the establishment label doesn’t fully fit even someone like Crowley, who comes from a working-class background. But am I hearing that you think Evers’s move made your life in the general election more difficult?

Is it harder to re-inspire if young people who are invested in the Hong campaign think that the establishment squashed them out?

We still had over 300,000 votes. We lost by fewer than 4,000 votes. I had more votes than Evers did during his primary. That’s not squashing our voices.

We’re still here, and it’s so important that people find avenues to continue to exercise their voice and their new organizing power. And I’m definitely going to continue to work to make sure that we get results and that we win the trifecta, and that’s the most important thing we should be focusing on right now.

I hear why a trifecta matters in the state context, particularly the state policy.

If I’m someone, though, who’s not in Wisconsin, who’s just worried about Donald Trump running amok in Washington, why should I care if Democrats win the governor’s mansion and the state legislature? Does that matter for folks outside of the state?

Because we will start to see that when you feel government actually working and you see change happening in your lives, these are then voters who are going to continue to come out and vote for Democrats.

We’re a pivotal state when it comes to the federal elections as well. We’re actually in a swing district right now. 

We have an opportunity, through Wisconsin, to actually start improving the brand for Democrats. And if we do that here, this trickles out to the rest of the country.

The premise being that delivering creates a connection for Democrats that is helpful in the presidential election, and it’s helpful in all these other ways too.

Yeah. We’re not going to be fighting every single midterm and presidential for our lives based on what’s happening in just one state.

But I think if we can start showing durable power for Democrats in a state like ours because of the policies that we’re prioritizing, and you have more folks coming out to vote for Democrats, that’s good for the health of democracy.

Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. You can sign up here to get it in your inbox every week. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: Black Democrats are facing a crossroads

One thing I’m thinking: A party that once said “representation matters” is watching Black power recede — and two of my recent interviews show the fork in the road.

The civil war roiling the Democratic Party has typically been defined by ideological camps. Moderates vs. progressives. Establishment vs. DSA. But ahead of a wide-open presidential primary, where the party hopes to define who and what it’s fighting for, there are other fault lines as well.

A big one: Where does the party’s changing electorate leave its traditional bases of power — like Black voters and the elected officials who represent them? 

Black voters have been one of the most reliable Democratic constituencies for generations, and their elected officials, at least, have enjoyed the perks of access. Looking back, there’s an argument that the Black Democratic class had more voice in the Joe Biden version of the Democratic Party than in the years of Barack Obama. Biden had long maintained close relationships with Washington’s Black elected officials, going back to his decades representing Delaware. And in the wake of the outcry for racial justice that came after the murder of George Floyd, and the important role Black voters played in his primary campaign, Biden made clear that focus would follow him into the presidency.

“When this campaign was at its lowest ebb, the African American community stood up again for me,” I watched President-elect Biden tell a crowd soon after he was elected. “You’ve always had my back, and I’ll have yours.”

Biden followed up by prioritizing Black representation in his administration: He nominated Ketanji Brown Jackson to the Supreme Court, fulfilling the promise he made to James Clyburn ahead of his all-important endorsement in 2020. He installed Jaime Harrison, another Clyburn mentee, as DNC chair, and made Karine Jean-Pierre the first Black and openly LGBTQ+ person to serve as White House press secretary. There was Lloyd Austin, the first Black man to run the Defense Department. And of course, there was Kamala Harris — the first Black and South Asian vice president and leader-of-the-Democratic-Party-in-waiting.

Importantly, Black elected officials were winning outside of Washington, too. As Politico noted in 2022, the Biden years marked the first time that New York City, Houston, Chicago, and Los Angeles — America’s four most populous cities — all had elected Black mayors.

But fast-forward to now, and it’s all gone a bit bleak. The John Lewis Voting Rights Act, a core Biden-Harris promise, never materialized. Harris lost to Trump in the 2024 election. And Democrats have broadly backlashed against any explicit focus on Black racial politics. Two of those mayors (Eric Adams of New York City and Lori Lightfoot of Chicago) were bounced after one term. Houston elected a white mayor, John Whitmire, who defeated Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee, a longtime member of the Congressional Black Caucus. And this November, Mayor Karen Bass of Los Angeles is at risk of becoming the latest political casualty, as she faces a tough race from an insurgent Democratic socialist, City Council member Nithya Raman.

To make matters worse, the Supreme Court’s decision in Louisiana v. Callais may put as many as 19 members of the Congressional Black Caucus — nearly a third of the caucus — at risk of losing their seats, with a particular impact on the American South. And the current energy in the Democratic Party has come from its progressive left, which has found a winning formula for winning in primaries that essentially goes around Black voters — as seen in races like Zohran Mamdani’s win in New York City, or even James Talarico’s defeat of Jasmine Crockett in Texas.

I could go on. But here’s the point: Just a few short years after Democrats declared that “representation matters,” the Black elected officials who benefitted from that priority have largely receded into the background, and it reflects the larger crossroads facing many Black Democrats in a changing party. On one side, the choice is a failed establishment that historically made space for (some) Black causes; on the other is a progressive wing that is often working from a deficit of trust, with little history in Black communities and connection with Black political leaders. 

Earlier this year, two interviews on America, Actually showed the divergent paths. One with Rep. Jim Clyburn of South Carolina. The other with Angie Nixon, the Democratic nominee for the US Senate seat in Florida. 

The power broker

If you haven’t watched my interview with Clyburn, I’d encourage you to — because the anguish on my face is pretty palpable throughout the whole thing.

It made news because of what Clyburn said (or didn’t) about artificial intelligence, but the conversation on Black politics is what most stuck with me. The Congress member explicitly blamed Black voters for Kamala Harris’s 2024 loss, saying they let her and the party down — not the other way around:

Me: “So is the argument that Black people let Kamala Harris down?”

Clyburn: “In many instances, absolutely…if that 59 percent had been 69 percent, she would’ve won.”

He defended taking corporate dollars even as polling says most Democrats, including Black voters, wish their politicians did not. And when I asked about his two most notable endorsements since the 2024 election: supporting Andrew Cuomo against Mamdani in New York City’s mayoral race, and backing Haley Stevens against Abdul El-Sayed in the Michigan Senate race — here’s what he said:

So I’m supposed to throw away all these relationships for somebody I never saw before, never heard of before…come on. Why don’t they just get off of that?

At one point, I asked Clyburn whether Mamdani’s enduring popularity, including among Black New Yorkers, caused any reflection: “Oh, I’m not paying attention to that. I got 90 percent. I just ran for reelection. I got 90 percent.”

Clyburn didn’t just defend centrist ideology. He defended a way of politics that was fundamentally unresponsive to voters, and he plainly articulated the lack of accountability at the heart of establishment politics: We didn’t fail, the voters failed us. 

But importantly, Clyburn’s policy positions — and those of the larger Congressional Black Caucus — are increasingly out of step with public opinion. Voters, including Black ones, want corporate money out of politics. And like much of the Democratic base, Black voters have also shifted left on Israel and are skeptical of things like Big Tech. Meanwhile, CBC members like Crockett are awash in crypto-industry money — from the likes of Marc Andreessen and the Winklevoss twins. At the CBC’s recent legislative conference, one of the “top sponsors” was Palantir Technologies — the data firm with major ICE contracts — even as the Congressional Hispanic Caucus canceled its financial relationship with the group. 

Black Democrats have never lived in a world where corporate cash was this unpopular, anti-Israel sentiment was this high, and their relationship with Big Tech was so under scrutiny. And in talking to Clyburn, I felt that distance. 

The upstart

Contrast that to Angie Nixon, the Democratic nominee for the US Senate in Florida. 

After Nixon won her primary — a 12-point victory (56-44) against a candidate who outraised her roughly 17-to-1 — all the focus went to why she couldn’t win the general election. She became a DSA member this year, making it easy for Republicans to tag her as a socialist (she says she’s not). There was her pro-Palestinian advocacy. Her lack of fundraising. And Democratic commentators used that to write her off on primary night, before the candidate had any chance to introduce herself to the general public. 

However, since the primary, Nixon has seemingly won those same people over — through what feels like sheer force of personality. She’s gained kudos from the commentariat with viral tweets aimed at Republicans, Emily’s List, which stayed neutral in the primary, has endorsed her, and progressives led by Bernie Sanders have begun steering real money into the race. Most importantly, she has taken advantage of the new media environment, doing interview after interview in a Mamdani-style blitz that prioritizes authenticity over polish:

“As a former single mom for 12 years, I know how to make a dollar stretch,” she told me, explaining her victory against long odds. “And clearly I know how to make one stretch to like 18.”

This is not to say Nixon is going to win — because I don’t think that’s the point. At a time when so many Black Democrats are trying to figure out where they fit in the party’s changing landscape, she represents an important lesson in how to blend personality with policy. The reason Nixon can be so “authentic” is that she’s clearly not thinking about how to calibrate to appease donors. She’s not thinking about whether her honesty upsets party leaders. Her distance from corporate money, or the party’s pro-Israel wing, has afforded her a freedom many Black politicians do not have. She is leading with Angie Nixon. Not Palantir. Or the DSA.

It’s essentially the opposite of what Clyburn did — not blaming the voters, but blaming the structures that have historically oppressed black communities. Which would of course also include the Democratic Party and its corporate donors. 

“I am a team player when you are playing for the team of hardworking people,” Nixon told me. “But when you start playing for corporations, I can’t get down like that.”

Looking ahead to 2028, there are several Black Democrats priming to run for president — including Harris, Sen. Cory Booker, and Maryland Gov. Wes Moore. Each will likely try to stake a middle ground between the Clyburns of the world and the Angie Nixons, and with South Carolina set to go first in the Democrats’ presidential nominating calendar, it would seem each would have a distinct advantage heading into the primary. However, even as Black voters were a key part of Hillary Clinton’s win in 2016, and Biden’s primary win in 2020, I don’t think we can assume this is a boon for centrists and establishment candidates.   

As I wrote earlier this summer, the Black electorate has historically moved in unison, but there is no guarantee that continues — particularly if Harris does not run again. For one, South Carolina going first in the primary may diminish its predictive power, since it’s further away from Super Tuesday. And most importantly, the electorate has changed. There’s now a rising generation of Black millennials — less committed to traditional party politics and less defined by the civil rights movement — and growing in number.

TL;DR: Democrats have long said Black voters aren’t a monolith. I think they’re about to learn what that means.

One thing I’m hearing 

This week we connected with Ryan Oehrli, a statewide accountability reporter at NC Local who has been covering election security in that state, and the state’s all-important Senate election. I wanted to ask him how state officials are dealing with election security concerns, and what he’s hearing from North Carolina voters on the ground.

You reported that some North Carolina election officials have promoted conspiracy theories about the elections they’re now helping run. How did these people get into those positions, and how much power do they have?

In North Carolina, the state board of elections appoints two Republicans and two Democrats to county election boards every other year. 

Chairs are the tie-breakers, so to speak. Historically, the governor appointed those chairs. In 2024, though, our Republican-led General Assembly stripped Gov. Josh Stein, a Democrat, of that power and gave it to State Auditor Dave Boliek, a Republican. Under the new law, every election board in the state flipped from Democratic to Republican control in one fell swoop in 2025.

One person I reported on was a “voter integrity” activist long before he was appointed to his county’s election board last year. Others were already serving on boards, then appointed chair by the state auditor even after they promoted conspiracy theories — in one instance by alleging in an email to lawmakers that there was some widespread effort to undermine the 2024 elections and help Democrats.

These are important positions. County election boards investigate ballot irregularities, decide where polling places are, conduct election protest hearings, and much more. 

You covered an effort in Lee County to eliminate Sunday voting. What have you seen these officials actually change, or try to change, about how people vote, and how have communities responded?

“Politics here feel more nationalized than even a few years ago, and there’s a lot more attention on us.”

From what I can tell, the people we wrote about haven’t had much of an effect individually, at least so far.

A chair who once called on President Trump to invoke the Insurrection Act because of the 2020 election results told me he’s found “no proof” of widespread voter fraud in his own county. 

The “voter integrity” activist I mentioned above, Jay DeLancy, told me that he’s tried to cut some names from voter rolls in his county (he claims they are “duplicates”). But the usual guardrails have stopped him. He complained that too many lawyers were involved in the process.

DeLancy did play a part in the effort to eliminate Sunday voting in Lee County. When he made his case to the state board, one of his arguments was that it would be wrong to order election workers to violate the Fourth Commandment, to keep the sabbath, “all because of politics.” The state board did not side with him.

Beyond the people we reported on, the ones who have promoted conspiracy theories, there was more controversy this year as counties drafted their early voting plans. These plans have to be agreed to unanimously, or they get passed on to the state. It emerged that an employee of the state auditor’s office, who was also the former director of the North Carolina GOP, had been texting Republican county election board members and telling them what positions to take on early voting plans.

DeLancy acknowledged that he got the idea to eliminate Sunday voting from him.

Beyond the fights over how elections are run, what are you hearing from people in North Carolina about this year’s midterms? What issues are coming up most in your reporting?

Across party lines, it’s agreed that Hurricane Helene recovery has not been handled well. You can see this in the Senate race between Roy Cooper and Michael Whatley. Whatley blames Cooper, who was governor when Helene hit in September 2024, a few months before his term ended. Cooper blames Whatley, who Trump once said would be “very much in charge” of the administration’s recovery effort and is on the FEMA Review Council.

The state has received less than half the money it requested from the federal government. This is a bipartisan, deeply felt source of frustration in the region. 

North Carolina gets a lot of attention as a battleground state. What does the national coverage miss about the politics you’re seeing locally?

North Carolinians are worried about the same issues as much of the country, like the cost of living, but the state has been through a lot on its own in the last few years. 

Hurricane Helene, of course, devastated much of the mountains, and recovery for some places will take years. The killing of Iryna Zarutska resparked a national conversation about mental health, the courts, and public safety. It’s largely been forgotten because it was overshadowed by what happened in Chicago and Minneapolis, but Border Patrol agents spent a week in Charlotte last year and arrested hundreds of people. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has stayed busy here.

Just recently, President Trump said North Carolina has become “one of the most violent and one of the worst” states in the country.

Politics here feel more nationalized than even a few years ago, and there’s a lot more attention on us. This is a big change, and I wonder what it means for both major parties, at the state level, in the long run.

Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. You can sign up here to get it in your inbox every week. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: Democrats’ Laken Riley vote is aging badly

Two things happened this week that reveal how quickly the politics of immigration enforcement are shifting.

First, Republican Sen. Jim Justice of West Virginia, a staunch ally of President Donald Trump, urged the administration to dial back its enforcement push. “Before you know it, you get people that get carried away in their job and whatever it may be, and all of a sudden, then you’re dragging people away that have lived on your street corner for 15 years,” Justice told Politico this week. “I don’t know that we need to be doing that stuff.” And he’s not the only red-state Republican who’s been pushing back on ICE lately, including some facing voters in tough races next month.

The second thing flew under the radar: Sen. Jon Ossoff, the Georgia Democrat running for reelection who has also been floated as a 2028 presidential candidate, struggled to explain himself when a reporter confronted him on camera about his vote for the Laken Riley Act in January 2025. Passed within days of Trump’s inauguration and signed nine days into his second term, the law requires ICE to detain undocumented immigrants who are merely arrested for or charged with theft-related crimes, before any conviction.

In the exchange with a reporter from Drop Site News, Ossoff talked about his Senate work investigating alleged ICE abuses, but didn’t directly address his vote after being asked if he regretted it. “Laken Riley was my constituent and what happened to her should happen to no American, to no person in this world,” Ossoff said. “I think that immigration enforcement should be focused on those who are convicted or charged with serious crimes.” He excused himself to walk into a meeting as the reporter pressed him on whether the law undermined due process. 

In both cases, you see changing winds of electoral politics. Back in 2025, when Ossoff and 11 other Senate Democrats joined Republicans in supporting Trump’s immigration bill, they implicitly validated Trump’s premise on immigration enforcement: that not only was the border out of control, but that there also needed to be new efforts to step up interior enforcement through expanding agencies like ICE. In the year-plus since that vote, Trump has hired more ICE officers, launched sweeping raids in cities like Minneapolis, Chicago, and Los Angeles, and fueled a cauldron of chaos that’s led to shootings across the country. Politically, it has now put Democrats like Ossoff in a pickle, one that will matter more the closer we get to 2028.

How do you explain giving more immigration powers to a Stephen Miller-led White House? How can one argue you couldn’t have seen this coming?

In some ways, you can understand the political logic of the time. Ossoff, who is running in a state Trump carried, and many of the congressional Democrats who supported the Laken Riley law were in competitive races, and Democrats left the 2024 election thinking they had misread the electorate on the issue, particularly after Latino voters swung hard toward the right. But given what’s happened since, it’s clear many congressional Democrats made a familiar mistake: prioritizing political triangulation over standing on their values of protecting marginalized communities.

Take a look at some of the Democrats who have already had to walk back their votes. In the Democratic primary for Minnesota’s open Senate seat, Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan made US Rep. Angie Craig’s vote for the law a key focus of her campaign, calling it “disqualifying.” The attacks were so effective that Craig eventually expressed remorse, saying, “I wanted to be honest with the people of Minnesota. I will tell you when I get it wrong, and I got that one wrong.” Craig lost the August 11 primary to Flanagan.

Maryland’s April McClain Delaney, another congressional Democrat, also said she regretted her vote: “I will say that this was in the beginning of my term. And I never thought that ICE immigration and the horror of what has happened would happen.” (She survived her primary, defeating David Trone by 6 points.)

It’s easy to see where the buyer’s remorse is emanating from. Trump’s ICE is broadly unpopular. And as we’ve talked about on this Substack and in our reporting on America, Actually, Trump is doing worse and worse with Latino voters, with both prices and immigration enforcement driving the slide. A Hart Research poll for TelevisaUnivision of 1,500 Latino registered voters in battleground House districts (August 6–17) found 63 percent disapprove of Trump’s job performance and 62 percent disapprove of his handling of immigration enforcement and deportations. Sixty-four percent view ICE unfavorably. 

When I recently talked to Stephanie Valencia of Equis Research, she said this: 

The people who feel most regretful who voted for Trump in 2024 are most regretful because of immigration. They feel like there was a broken promise there. Like, they were told he was gonna focus on the border, which everybody agreed was chaos, and he was gonna focus on violent criminals and serious threats, and at the end of the day, he has not complied with that.

But while the shift in public opinion helps explain the elected officials’ political logic, it doesn’t change the material harm of their votes. Just this week, ICE announced plans to hire 5,000 more employees, most of them deportation officers, by the end of the year as enforcement continues to ramp up.

And these raids have a lasting effect on targeted communities, like in Maine, the Chicago area, and Texas. It’s the No. 1 issue that has come up in my conversations with local reporters. The chief architect of this chaos is the president, but make no mistake: Trump had help from shortsighted Democrats.

One thing I’m hearing 

Maya Miller is a Report for America corps member covering democracy and government for the Gulf States Newsroom, a public radio collaboration that includes Louisiana’s WWNO and WRKF. She’s been reporting on Mississippi’s redistricting fight and what residents are saying about their representation and the upcoming midterms.

You’ve been reporting from redistricting hearings in Mississippi. What are residents most concerned about, and is there a conversation or moment that captures the mood?

Residents are most concerned about their representation. In Mississippi in particular, race and party are strongly intertwined, and Black residents worry that by being drawn into new districts, voters may elect a Republican candidate. There was a bit of secrecy around redistricting earlier this summer, with Gov. Tate Reeves, a Republican, canceling a special session to redraw judicial lines. So advocates created the People’s Hearings, a series of meetings held across the state to voice concerns and create a public record of testimonies from Mississippians. Quickly after, lawmakers decided to host their own public hearings, and at these hearings, hundreds of residents showed up, mostly to urge them not to redistrict.

“It seems to me that the threat of losing representation has made people more aware of the moving parts.”

At one hearing, I spoke to Joyce Arceneaux-Mathis, president of the Natchez NAACP. She’s frustrated that the state is going to spend millions on new maps when people are struggling with day to day expenses. And Ramona Sanders of Meridian, Mississippi, has a lot of concerns on whether mid-decade redistricting is illegal. While it’s not, she says that lawmakers are opening themselves up to legal action. I haven’t heard anything from voter advocacy groups that points to future lawsuits, but only time will tell, if and when lawmakers redraw the maps, if these maps are constitutional or not.

Redistricting is often covered as a fight over which party wins more seats. What would these changes mean for the communities you cover and their ability to have a voice in Congress?

One change that could happen is that residents who are Democrats might lose the state’s only Democrat leader. Out of four congressmen, there’s only one Democrat, Bennie Thompson, who represents District 2. His district spans much of the west, from the capital city of Jackson to most of the Mississippi Delta and southwest Mississippi. It’s a heavily Black district, somewhere around 63 percent Black. He’s held this seat for 33 years and has brought millions to the district for health care, infrastructure, and agriculture. 

So residents are worried that Republicans are trying to edge him out and replace him with a more conservative leader who may not have the same concerns as the community. 

How are these fights affecting people’s interest in the midterms? Are you hearing more determination to vote, more doubt that voting matters, or something else?

People are fired up. They’re incredibly engaged. I’m hearing from a lot of people who are more determined to vote in November than when I covered redistricting in Alabama in 2024. It seems to me that the threat of losing representation has made people more aware of the moving parts. So they’re attending hearings, participating in rallies, registering to vote and checking their registration, phoning a friend and making plans to be at the polls on November 3.

What is the national conversation about redistricting missing that becomes clear when you spend time in these communities?

I think the national conversation is missing the voice of the community. It’s one thing to report on the politics of redistricting, but there’s a layer of real concern from residents that shouldn’t be ignored. They’re worried about hospitals closing. They’re worried about public schools losing funding. They’re worried about the rising cost of groceries and gas. I find that talking to and listening to residents helps me understand a community more than calling up a lawmaker and asking them their thoughts. There’s a place for that side of the conversation, of course, but I’ve always tried to center people who will be most impacted in my reporting, and I feel that leads to a better story for our listeners.

With the 2026 midterm elections fast approaching, polling increasingly suggests that the GOP is in for a bad time. As the Iran war drives up inflation and fuel prices, Republicans are on the back foot not just in swing states like Michigan, but in redder parts of the map: Iowa, Texas, and maybe even Kansas, among others. (Not to mention Georgia and North Carolina.) 

It’s shaping up to be a Democratic wave, in other words, and a major repudiation of President Donald Trump. According to Sarah Longwell, the publisher of political news site the Bulwark, there’s a clear reason why this is the cycle that things seem to be falling apart for Trump, who has dodged scandals and bad poll numbers before. “The average person is often voting on instinctual things,” she explains, “and those instincts are a lot of your animalistic desires for things to be okay materially.” And for many voters right now, things are not okay materially.

Longwell would know: She regularly speaks with voters for her podcast, The Focus Group, and she’s the author of the new book How to Eat an Elephant: One Voter at a Time. 

Longwell talked with Vox’s Astead Herndon for a special live recording of the America, Actually podcast at the Texas Tribune Festival earlier this month about why voters are both more and less complicated than punditry sometimes suggests, what the future holds for the Republican Party post-Trump, and the lesson Democrats need to learn to capitalize on their wins.

Below is an excerpt of Astead’s conversation with Longwell, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

One of the themes in the book is to talk to voters like real adults. What does that mean? 

There was a long period of time in our history where the artifice of politics was part of the performance of politics.

You could give a good speech. You’d do a debate. Those are not the rules of politics in this communications environment anymore. Every single one of you, if you’re a Bulwark person, you interact with me. I am in your ear, and we’re having a conversation.

We have a parasocial relationship. I walked in here and met a bunch of people, and they were like, “I feel like I know you.” And people want to feel like that about their political leaders now. And so they want to know what makes you tick. Are you a real person? And so the artifice of a debate on CNN is starting to feel really stupid, no offense to CNN.

People demand more now. And a lot of it is just that artifice is falling away for voters. Donald Trump understood that as a person who had been in people’s living rooms as a performer. Democratic politicians still have not figured it out. 

One of the things that comes through in both the book and I think the work that we both do is how voters don’t always fit into those neat ideological boxes.

I always tell the story about when I was at the Iowa caucuses, and I remember in 2019 in the Democratic primary, someone telling me they were stuck between Bernie [Sanders] and [former New York City Mayor Michael] Bloomberg, and asking, “How did you get there?”

And what was the answer? 

I think the short answer was they liked a strong guy where they knew what he believed in. And they did not care which side of that coin that was, as long as it felt consistent and something they could put their hands around.

If ideology is not the controlling paradigm for voters, how should we think about the different ways people are sorting themselves right now? 

My answer is genuinely not to sort them as much. This is the reason people say things like, “It’s the economy, stupid,” and then everybody gets bored with that answer, and they want to talk about 10 other things because they’re like, “Well, that’s so straightforward.”

But I try in the book to say it really is about improving people’s material well-being and ensuring their safety. So you go back to: What are the most human things that people want? They want to be able to afford gas. They want a job. They want a job [where] they think that they can go up the ladder. 

They want their kids to get a good education. Then they want to be safe. They want to know that they’re safe in their community. They want to know they’re safe in the places that they go. And Donald Trump and Republicans really do understand: People vote with weird animal instincts. 

Now, I bet a lot of the people in this room are college-educated suburban voters, but the average voter in a general election is a 55-year-old white guy without a college degree.

The average person is often voting on instinctual things, and those instincts are a lot of your animalistic desires for things to be okay materially — your cost of health care, and then for you to be safe. And so if you think about those base-level desires and then think about what Democrats spend most of their time talking about, you’re like, “Is that the thing that captures all these people?”

When I watch Democrats as somebody who’s an immigrant into the Democratic ecosystem, there’s a lot of, like, “And you get a policy, and you get a policy, and you get a policy.” And I don’t really understand that because everybody needs cheaper gas.

Everybody needs groceries that they can afford. And so talking about the things that unite us or that everybody needs, to me, is the secret sauce for how Democrats should think about policy. 

Three years ago, Democrats thought that being against January 6th was a thing that united everybody. There was a belief that pro-democracy arguments were going to unite people across ideology. Why did that fail in 2024? 

I’ve been thinking about this a lot as Trump gets terrible poll after terrible poll, and this is my point.

The coup, all of the horrible things he said about women, all of the lawsuits — I mean, he told everybody an election was stolen. Why is he underwater right now? Because of gas prices, because of a war in Iran, because the negative personal consequences of his policies are hitting people.

I know that it frustrates people. I’m so aware of the frustration where people are like, “Why are people so selfish? Why don’t they think about the bigger picture of democracy?” And one of the things I try not to do is magic words — consultant stuff, because a lot of consultants do that. They’re like, “Say freedom,” and “Say affordability.”

There’s nothing to back it up. But the one magic word I do think that Democrats should start using is “America,” and swap it in for “democracy.” And the reason is, voters practice democracy in America by its individual things.

They practice free speech. They like rule of law. They like checks and balances. So they like the elements of democracy, but they don’t think about them up here as democracy. And also the word democracy now is very polarized, right? Republicans think that Democrats are a threat to democracy because they stole the 2020 election. And Democrats think Republicans are a threat to democracy because they lied about the election being stolen and then tried to overturn the entire government.

I think one side of that equation is more right than the other. But I think that’s why it didn’t work. 

I want to look ahead. Our show focuses on building a roadmap for American politics without Trump, and part of that question has been about Republicans.

They have made themselves into a new kind of America First-esque party. But what does that mean without Trump at the center of it? When you’re in your focus groups, is it clear what values or principles Republicans believe in besides what Donald Trump says to them?

Absolutely not. They don’t have anything. This is why I wrote the book. I wrote the book because we have 2026, we have 2028, and we have 2032. 

By 2032, there’s going to be a new census, and things are going to get worse for Democrats. Hear me on this. People are not grokking this yet. The map — people are leaving California for Texas, people are leaving New York for Florida, and it’s just going to get harder for Democrats to win if this same trajectory that we’re currently on holds.

But there is a generational opportunity right now, and it’s why I desperately wanted to bring this book and get it out there. The Republican Party at this moment is as hollowed out as … Donald Trump is going to leave it in shambles. There is no Trump heir who can do what Trump does, who has the longstanding parasocial relationship with voters where they give him this blank check that other people don’t get.

But my concern is that 2026 will go really well and that Democrats will say, “See? It’s fine. Everybody likes us.” They don’t.

This was the big mistake in 2022. The midterms were extrapolated [to signal] Biden’s re-election, and those were not the same thing.

They are not the same thing. And again, the average voter is a 55-year-old white man without a college degree. And you can just hold that in your head and picture that guy and say, “Do we have candidates who can appeal to that guy?” 

I was being annoying when I was flying here, tweeting things, and there’s a new poll out for [Pennsylvania Gov.] Josh Shapiro. He is beating his Republican opponent by 21 points in the poll right now. This is the largest swing state in the country, and Democrats hate Josh Shapiro.

Hate feels a little strong. I think the left doesn’t like Josh Shapiro. I don’t think that’s the whole party.

That’s a good point.

I’ll just say, as a slight Josh Shapiro stan, perhaps I feel more than most people’s antipathy to the idea of Josh Shapiro running. I get a lot of people just being like, “Absolutely not. He’s a corporate centrist. We would never consider him. And also he’s Jewish slash Zionist.”

And a lot of this is Twitter discourse, but it feels like he doesn’t get the same buzz or interest, which seems insane to me when you’ve got somebody that popular in such a big, important state that Trump was able to win twice. 

The electoral argument for the Josh Shapiros of the world is clear.

Twenty-one points in Pennsylvania at any rate is impressive, but let’s use him as an example, because I do think it speaks to where some Democrats have gone in the last couple years. The polling will tell you that the majority of Democrats want to see their party reshift its relationship with Israel and want to see things like an arms embargo.

Polling would tell you that the majority of Democrats believe that they shouldn’t be taking corporate money, or that things like AIPAC money are bad. How does a Josh Shapiro — let’s use him as an avatar. … Is that compatible with where the Democratic base is right now, even if it’s clearly compatible with Pennsylvania?

The way that you just said it doesn’t sound compatible. But I don’t think that it’s incompatible. 

This is a book about what the voters think, and the voters want a new relationship with Israel, hands down. Without question. They want America to reevaluate our relationship with Israel. And the next Democratic presidential candidate is going to have to do that.

And I have a theory about this. I do think that the 2028 nominee is very likely to be a Jewish person who is highly critical of Israel, because I think that it helps to heal the deep divide right now on this issue within the Democratic Party.

Now, do I think it’s more likely that that is the very handsome Jon Ossoff? I kind of do. But I just … a big part of this book is, “Don’t you want to win? Don’t you guys want to win?” Like, do you want to win more than you want to be right about everything?

William Lawrence is a Democrat running to represent Michigan’s Lansing-area Seventh Congressional District with a campaign that largely focuses on data centers and affordability. It’s not an unusual story in 2026 — but not long ago, Lawrence was cutting his teeth in progressive politics as a co-founder of the Sunrise Movement, primarily focused on organizing around the climate crisis.

His arc, from progressive activist to politician, is emblematic of a bigger trend, as a wave of millennial progressives in midterm races across the country try to lean into issues that have broader, more immediate appeal with voters.

But that arc also raises big questions about the left’s changing priorities. In a recent interview for Vox’s podcast and video series America, Actually, host Astead Herndon spoke with Lawrence about his past activism and how he has pivoted. “It can sometimes feel like…folks hop from issue to issue, whether it’s climate, even anti-AI right now, without those things being solved,” Herndon told Lawrence. 

According to Lawrence, “that’s the reality of the time. It seems like everything is unraveling, and it is because the whole social, economic, political compact is being renegotiated, not just in this country, but on a global stage.” Still, Lawrence said, that earlier organizing shapes how he sees different challenges today.

The two also discussed whether opposition to data centers and AI has wide, regular-voter appeal in places like Michigan and how Lawrence went from hopeless and disengaged to regaining a sense of agency through organizing.

Below is an excerpt of the conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

You started in Sunrise and were at the forefront of a young progressive movement that was aligned at that time — in 2018, 2019, and I think still — with progressive members of Congress like Rashida Tlaib or Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

I remember reporting about Sunrise at the time. The goal was to elect a Bernie Sanders, but the other goal was to have the party largely embrace things like a Green New Deal. How would you grade the efforts of the climate movement of that time, looking back?

I think we did some things very well.

We put climate jobs and justice at the top of the agenda for the incoming Biden administration. I think the Bernie-Biden task force is an often overlooked but very important chapter of that whole story, where Bernie and Biden both understood they had to bring their people to the table.

And that’s how Build Back Better got negotiated. We fought hard for Build Back Better, and ultimately came up two votes shy in the United States Senate.

Do you see that as a success or a failure of the climate movement?

I think Build Back Better was a success in coming to the table and negotiating, from the Green New Deal to Build Back Better, and then what we ended up with was the Inflation Reduction Act after it passed the final filter, which was Sen. Joe Manchin and Sen. Kyrsten Sinema. At the time, now, how I felt about it was, this is historic. This is the largest investment in green jobs and infrastructure in United States history. I know how hard it was to get here. I’m tremendously proud of the work that I did and so many others did.

Just in my district alone, we’ve delivered $26 billion in investment for manufacturing and sustainability because of the Inflation Reduction Act. But at the time, we knew that this is maybe 5 percent or 10 percent of what we need in scope. And now we’re experiencing the consequences of that.

Obviously, we still have a very volatile economy. We still lack energy security because we now have closed the Strait of Hormuz. We’re still too dependent on a global oil market, and we could use many more investments in solar and other kinds of renewable energy than we have now.

And ultimately, it wasn’t enough for the Biden-Harris administration to be able to win reelection, because people didn’t feel it enough in their pocketbooks.

Why do you think Democrats are talking less about climate?

I think it’s the intensity of the crises that we face. It feels like we’re falling through midair, after the end of all of the constitutional protections, the rule of law, and the economic security that people had previously enjoyed. 

There are a lot of very acute and urgent crises, and I think that that has bumped climate, which is a super massive but also somewhat slow-moving crisis, a little bit lower on the priority list just in terms of what comes up for people on the Hill.

You went back to Michigan to focus on housing and advocacy. Did that make you think a little differently about the national work you were doing?

I think it’s fair to say that when I was younger, I got very focused on this climate issue, and I was very focused on it because it is this existential crisis we all face.

But it was after the pandemic that I wanted to bring my work closer to home. I wanted to do the work of putting down roots in the place that had raised me and make my life there. And in seeking to organize there, it was clear that we needed an in to organize that was more immediate.

“I believe in the agency of regular people taking charge of our own lives and working together to build a better future.”

More immediate than the Green New Deal.

Than the Green New Deal or than the looming climate crisis. People know that that’s an issue, but they’re like, “I’ve gotta pay rent at the end of the month.” And as an organizer, I believe that you have to listen to people, you have to hear what’s going on for them, and then work on issues that have the potential to bring people together.

Housing is one of those issues. Whether you’re in the city of Lansing, whether you’re in small towns, urban, rural, suburban, young or old, everybody can agree that the rent is too damn high and it’s too hard to buy a home anymore.

Were you surprised Trump won the state in 2024? 

No.

Why not? 

Because I saw it all unfold. We hoped to deliver more through the Biden-Harris administration than we ultimately did through Build Back Better. We didn’t deliver as much to relieve the economic anxiety that people were feeling. And then I do believe that the war and the genocide in Gaza and our blank check to allow that to happen with our money and our tax dollars destroyed the Democratic coalition that had been assembled from 2017 through 2020 for the purpose of beating Trump.

I just saw that unfolding over the course of the whole year, just like a slow-motion train wreck.

I want to ask locally, what do you think is most important in this race: housing, data centers, or pushing back against Donald Trump?

If I had to choose, I’d say data centers because that’s where people in the district are finding some common ground across the spectrum — in fighting back against the concentrated power in Silicon Valley, which has been fully enabled by [incumbent Rep.] Tom Barrett and Donald Trump.

So you’re saying that’s the issue that allows you to create cross-ideological coalitions?

Yeah.

Our last question is, just thinking through the scope of your career and the kind of progressive work: It can sometimes feel like folks hop from issue to issue, whether it’s climate, even anti-AI right now, without those things being solved, right?

Like, we still have a climate crisis. The rent is still too high. All of these things are still happening. How am I to trust that AI is the crisis of our time when I’ve heard so many crises of our time?

Some have called it a polycrisis — overlapping crises.

That’s the reality of the time. It seems like everything is unraveling, and it is because the whole social, economic, political compact is being renegotiated, not just in this country, but on a global stage. I don’t think it serves us to lie about that. I mean, here’s the reality, folks.

Everything is up in the air. Does it feel like you’re falling through midair? It’s because we are. All the old protections, all the old agreements have been chopped up. So we have got to come together. This is what I believe in more than anything, if there is a through line…I believe in the agency of regular people taking charge of our own lives and working together to build a better future. 

That’s what I learned as an organizer, and that’s what gave me hope actually, at a time when I was doomer-ing in my younger years. And I told you, I wanted to just drop out of society and all that. It was seeing that regular people have come together before, and they’ve won a better future for their kids and grandkids, that gave me a path to follow in.

It does feel like a powerless time, I have to tell you. And a lot of this AI revolution, to your point about control or about agency. We’ve talked to so many people who just think that these things are happening to them, rather than feeling that they are participating in the changes afoot.

But you’re telling a kinda hopeful story. 

I’m a hopeful guy. I was angry too, even when I got into this race. I was angry especially about the wars. But then in campaigning, I’ve met so many people across the district, old friends, new friends, and they give me a lot of hope because you just see the way that people are already performing miracles on a daily basis.

Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. Let’s get into it. You can sign up here to get it in your inbox every week. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: Latinos didn’t come home. They’re just in motion.

In the last presidential election, President Donald Trump’s strong support with Latino voters ended up one of the biggest stories of the night. After years of Democrats telling themselves that the growing number of Hispanic Americans would help lead to a permanent liberal majority, their dreams were first dashed in 2016 (when many of those voters stayed home) and then buried in 2024 (when they, and other nonwhite voters, swung toward Trump).

But just as Democrats have at times been too confident that minority voters would fall in line, it now seems Republicans have replicated their mistake. Poll after poll shows a historic reversal among Latino voters in Trump’s second term, and these days even Republican members of Congress are beginning to call Trump out on his deportation efforts. 

Why? It comes back to the numbers.

As Nate Cohn observed in the New York Times this week, Democrats now lead Republicans among Hispanic likely voters by 35 percentage points on the generic congressional ballot, 64-29 — a 28-point swing from 2024, when Kamala Harris carried Hispanic voters by just 7 points. The shift is a big reason the polling has Democrats in “blue wave” territory this November.

Last week on America, Actually I explored this shift in detail — by talking to Stephanie Valencia, co-founder and president of Equis, the research firm that has spent a decade digging into the Latino electorate. And the first thing she wanted us all to know: Get rid of the idea that Latinos will ever be permanently Democratic or permanently Republican. Part of the electoral power is that a larger section of the electorate defines itself more independently.

“Latinos often get given the title, the sleeping giant, which I just want to rid that out of everybody’s vocabulary. We should be called the swinging giant based on how much shift we have seen election to election. A third of Latinos consider themselves kind of independent or apolitical nonpartisan, and that’s that swinging middle that really is deciding every single election.”

Here are three more trends Valencia pointed out, which help explain why this all-important voting group has done such a drastic 180 on Trump in his second term.

1. It’s the economy (again)

As with all things in Trump’s second term, it starts with the fundamental problem of his second term: He has not delivered on lower prices. Equis found that Trump’s net approval with Latinos on cost of living sits at -52 — and his number on the economy (-45) is worse than his overall approval with the group (-31). Both are dramatically worse than where he sits with non-Latinos, who put him at -39 on cost of living and -25 on the economy. Among Latino men 18 to 39, cost of living hits a stunning -63.

Here’s what Valencia said:

“Latinos make up more of the wage workforce than any other racial subgroup. And so what that means is when wages are down and inflation is high, Latinos feel it more. We have less savings. We have less rates of home ownership. So the kind of safety nets that other people might have, we just don’t have.”

She also pointed this out:

“In Trump 1.0, his approval on the economy and the cost of living was actually better than his everyday approval… And he has been underwater with Latinos almost this entire term so far on the cost of living and the economy. It’s almost been a complete and total reversal.”

One of the arguments Trump made to Hispanic communities (and other groups also) was that he’d economically empower them, and that this was more important than prioritizing social causes that didn’t have a material benefit. That’s also been his fundamental flaw. From tariffs to rising gas prices, he has not only not delivered — people also feel worse off than before.

2. The immigration backlash

Valencia’s data was undeniable: More and more Latinos turned on Trump as he broadened his deportation efforts, which were broadly unpopular. But what I didn’t understand is why it took until Trump’s second term for people to realize those threats were legitimate, considering they were so front and center during his campaign. (They held up “Mass Deportation Now!” signs at the Republican National Convention!)

Here’s what Valencia said:

“I think this is really important for us as avid news consumers to understand what it is that the average voter, and especially that voter who’s coming in and out of elections, the kind of news they’re consuming. What they were seeing on mainstream media, perhaps even Fox News at the time, was a focus on Trump surrogates who said he’s gonna focus on serious criminals, securing the border, and violent criminals. And so that’s what people bought.”

“Fast-forward to 2026, the people who feel most regretful who voted for Trump in 2024 are most regretful because of immigration. They feel like there was a broken promise there. Like, they were told he was gonna focus on the border, which everybody agreed was chaos, and he was gonna focus on violent criminals and serious threats, and at the end of the day, he has not complied with that.”

There’s also an element of disbelief. When Trump said he would deport “bad people,” a lot of people thought he was only talking about people in other communities — or immigrants with criminal legal histories — not the more far-reaching immigration sweeps we’ve seen since he’s been in office. A striking ad from Rep. María Elvira Salazar (R-FL) this week where she directly criticizes Trump’s immigration policy explicitly made this distinction. 

The Equis numbers track that shift almost perfectly. In December 2024, 65 percent of Latino Trump voters believed he would target only criminals and recent arrivals. Today, 62 percent of Latinos overall say he’s going after undocumented immigrants broadly — and among his own Latino voters, the share who say that has jumped from 26 percent to 37 percent. That perception is the whole ballgame: Latino Trump voters who still believe he’s targeting only criminals give him +84 net approval. Among those who’ve concluded he’s targeting everyone, it collapses to +31.

The backlash isn’t about the border. It’s about what’s happening in the interior — the raids, the family separations, the citizens and legal residents swept up. 

Equis finds 68 percent of Latinos say Republicans promised to deport criminals and deported hardworking people instead — and 67 percent say Democrats promise immigration reform and never deliver. Forty-two percent say both parties broke their promises.

“I think it is a huge mistake for Democrats to assume or to rest on their laurels and think that because of what people are feeling around Trump and Republicans and the sense of disappointment and broken promises, that that is automatically going to translate to them as a party and as a brand. Right now, the Democratic brand has suffered a repeated set of blows among Latino voters. 20 years of comprehensive immigration reform that hasn’t been delivered. It’s a thing that comes up in almost every focus group.”

3. Meeting voters where they are

The third trend isn’t about persuasion at all. It’s about the fact that a lot of campaigns are still bad at the mechanics of reaching this electorate — and Valencia’s examples were almost comically basic.

Their testing found that more than 70 percent of Latinos who see an ad in Spanish come away thinking that candidate or party cares more about Latinos. That’s not a persuasion effect. That’s a respect effect, and it’s enormous for the price of one ad buy.

So how do campaigns blow it? Some examples, according to Valencia: translating English ads directly into Spanish, rather than tailoring them to the language and culture; and assuming English speakers and Spanish speakers are separate categories when voters often shift between media in both languages. 

The deeper error is the monolith problem — the group is still treated as a voting bloc that moves in unison, rather than a diverse set of people from varying countries of origin and contexts. And the fastest-moving division isn’t the country of origin at all. It’s age — an electorate replenishing itself faster than either party’s model of it.

“There are a million Latinos who turn 18 every single year, and an 18-year-old who turns 18 this year and will vote in this year’s election was born the year Barack Obama was elected president. … The era of politics for an 18-year-old today is chaos, Covid, and corruption. They do not remember the hopium of Obama and the beautiful coalition that we built. That is all ancient history to them.”

A million new voters a year, completely up for grabs. Nobody is inheriting these voters. Neither party owns them. Because as Valencia put it: Demographics have proven not to be destiny — effort and intention matter more.

What I’m hearing

This week I called Matthew Eadie, a reporter at Evanston Now, who has been covering an ICE stop in Evanston, Illinois that has since attracted national attention. On the morning of Sunday, September 20, federal agents stopped a man walking on Howard Street. He turned out to be a US citizen, and not the person they were looking for. Agents reportedly left him on the ground with injuries to his head, neck, and teeth. DHS says he “refused to identify himself. Now the community is demanding answers.”

What’s the community reaction been?

People are really furious. If you remember the fall here — Operation Midway Blitz, the heightened Border Patrol enforcement across the Chicago area, Gregory Bovino parading around the streets with camera crews, the protests at the Broadview processing center — people here were very aware of how impactful it was. It was also happening around the elections, so it was prominent news everywhere and everybody was talking about it.

Over the summer it really died down, and I don’t think people have paid much attention since. ICE has been around all year, but they haven’t been as flashy about it, which has been talked about nationally too. This was a flare-up, and it’s a reminder that it’s still going on even after Bovino left. There have been protests at Broadview this week unrelated to the Evanston incident. So either people are starting to pay more attention as the election gets closer, or the incidents are actually picking up again.

What are the unanswered questions you’re still chasing?

Who were they looking for? Were they actually looking for somebody? That’s been their story — a specific individual — and a lot of people I’ve talked to are really skeptical that’s the case. One witness at the scene told me he felt like they just picked him and drove up on him. Essentially what’s been called a “Kavanaugh stop” — if they’re suspicious of you, they can pretty much find a reason to detain you. And then they dropped it once they realized either that he was a US citizen, which he says he is, or that there were too many people around taking videos for it to be worth their time.

So: What happened in the lead-up, and who specifically were they looking for? 

Afterward, the agents talked to Evanston police — that’s an Evanston police policy; they’re supposed to try to get information from ICE officers. I’ve FOIAed all the body cam footage. I want to see what those conversations were like, and what exactly the agents told police officers when they talked privately.

Part of what we’re trying to do is see the issues that play out from the bottom up rather than the way they get framed nationally. Beyond immigration, is there anything in your coverage that’s shaping local politics more than the national conversation reflects?

The national issues matter to everybody, but they hit communities in completely different ways. Evanston is affluent — college town, Northwestern, wealthier than most suburbs. Affordability is a buzzword that comes up everywhere, but people here talk about it differently.

This is an overwhelmingly progressive Democratic city. Some people in Evanston certainly need it to be more affordable for themselves. But you also have progressive voters saying we want to make Evanston more affordable and more inclusive for other people. Sometimes the affordability conversation gets framed as “life is too expensive for me and we need to make it cheaper for me,” which is true in a lot of places. In somewhere like Evanston, where there are a lot of affluent people who are also very progressive voters, it’s more: If we actually want to say we’re a progressive community, we have to show it. And showing it maybe means building affordable housing.

It’s also a city that passed reparations, which the federal government is challenging right now. That’s going to be a federal court case through the end of this year and probably into next year — the feds challenging the city’s reparations program. That’s something the city prides itself on. Those are big issues here that come out of the national conversation but sound different than how we hear them in national media.

In 2024, Donald Trump’s victory was powered in large part by massive gains with Latino voters. He won 48 percent of those voters that year, up from 36 percent in 2020 and 28 percent in 2016. But now, that support is plummeting; Trump’s approval rating among Latinos who voted for him recently fell from 93 percent to 66 percent, where it was at the beginning of his second term.

Why? It has a lot to do, as with everything these days, with the economy. 

It was the same in 2024. During that election, voters were experiencing rising costs and stagnant wages — the same trend that has continued until today. In 2024, though, Joe Biden and his administration — which also meant Vice President Kamala Harris — took the blame from all voters, and particularly Latinos. Today, the blame is falling on Trump. 

America, Actually host Astead Herndon caught up with Stephanie Valencia, who co-founded Equis Research, a political research firm that specializes in Latino voters, to unpack some of these recent shifts and explain them. 

“I think one important data point to understand about the Latino voter is Latinos make up more of the wage workforce than any other part or any other racial subgroup,” she said on the podcast. “And so what that means is when wages are down and inflation is high, Latinos feel it more.” 

That’s why, when the economy is bad, this group is primed to be a “swinging giant” in US politics, Valencia explains — and right now, it appears to be swinging hard against Trump. 

Below is an excerpt of the conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

Equis has called Latinos one of the last great wild cards in American politics. Is that because of some of the double-digit swings that we’ve seen among this voting group over the past few elections?

Yes, it absolutely has to do with that. Latinos often get given the title the “sleeping giant,” which I just want to get rid of from everybody’s vocabulary. 

We should be called the “swinging giant” based on how much shift we have seen election to election. A third of Latinos consider themselves kind of independent or apolitical, and that swinging middle really is deciding every single election.

Your playbook gets into messengers and particularly how we reach folks where they are. It makes a Spanish-Spanglish distinction talking about the different types of media that Latino voters consume. 

I wanted to ask, in that vein, what’s the single biggest mistake campaigns make in terms of not reaching folks where they are?

Oh man, how long do we have so I can tell you how many mistakes? They’re really simple unforced errors. I’m going to give a very concrete and simple example that I think illustrates that. 

Look, I’m Latina. I grew up speaking mostly English, but I listen to Spanish-language radio. I watch a lot of YouTube, and on YouTube I’m watching people like Karol G and Carin León. A lot of people — a lot of Latino swing voters — have the same media consumption habits that I do.

The first problem or challenge that a lot of candidates make is they just simply translate their English ad into Spanish. And that is, to me, one of the biggest mistakes because there are a lot of things that people want to be communicating in Spanish that don’t translate word for word. There are sayings in Spanish that don’t translate directly from English or more direct ways you can communicate.

I’m sure it immediately reads Google Translate rather than an original message for said community.

Exactly. So that’s mistake No. 1. Mistake No. 2 is when they’re deploying that ad digitally, as a proxy for talking to people, they’re going to use Spanish-language browser settings. So they say, “We don’t want people who speak English to see the Spanish-language ad.”

So the way they find that set of voters is just by going to people who have Spanish-language browser settings. 

Like I said, I don’t have a Spanish-language browser setting. Everything I consume online is set in English on Chrome, but I still watch a lot of content in Spanish on YouTube.

So you’re missing a voter like me who’s going to see a Spanish language ad from a James Talarico or a Manny Rutinel and be turned on by it because I’m going to say, “Hey, that candidate’s speaking to our community. That candidate has enough respect to develop a Spanish-language ad.” 

We did some testing a couple of years ago that showed that over 70 percent of Latinos who see an ad in Spanish think that party or candidate cares more about Latinos. It matters that much.

Let’s stay in 2024 for a second longer. Your research found that Project 2025 and Trump’s mass deportation plans were not top of mind for most people, and that they were thinking about the economy. I wanted to ask about that because I remember the RNC signs at the convention saying, “Mass deportations now.” One number says that 62 percent of Latinos now think that Trump wants to deport undocumented immigrants broadly. 

Why did it take till post-election to realize those threats of mass deportation were real considering they were so front and center during his campaign?

I think this is really important for us as avid news consumers to understand the kind of news that the average voter, and especially that voter who’s coming in and out of elections, is consuming.

What they were seeing on mainstream media, perhaps even Fox News at the time, was a focus on people or Trump surrogates who said he was going to focus on serious criminals, securing the border, and violent criminals.

And so that’s what people bought. Fast-forward to 2026; the people who feel most regretful who voted for Trump in 2024 are most regretful because of immigration. They feel like there was a broken promise there. 

They were told he was going to focus on the border, which everybody agreed was chaos, and he was going to focus on violent criminals and serious threats, and at the end of the day, he has not complied with that.

And then add that to the litany of broken promises.

I’m hearing a distinction between a focus on the border, which Republicans did try to prioritize rather than the interior deportations that may have been more attributed to Stephen Miller than Donald Trump. But we have certainly seen that be a focus of the administration once they came back into office.

You mentioned the shift that has happened since 2024, and that’s really important, of course. Trump’s approval rating with Latinos is now worse than with non-Latinos, a stunning reversal in 18 months. 

You mentioned the factors that have contributed there, but is this really just the economy?

It’s the economy, it’s the war, and it’s immigration. It’s those three things. 

One thing that is really interesting to note about Trump’s approval, other than that it’s at basement levels — and he’s very much pulled down the GOP with him broadly and with Latino voters — is that in Trump 1.0, his approval on the economy and the cost of living was actually better than his everyday approval on his total job.

And he has been underwater with Latinos almost this entire term so far on the cost of living and the economy. It’s almost been a complete and total reversal.

Listen, you tell people you’re going to fix egg prices and gas is going to go down, and then you do the opposite, and we’re hearing that story universally across different electorate groups. 

You’re saying that’s still the main story when it comes to Latinos also?

Yes, it’s still the main story. I think one important data point to understand about the Latino voter is Latinos make up more of the wage workforce than any other part or any other racial subgroup. What that means is when wages are down and inflation is high, Latinos feel it more. 

We have less savings. We have lower rates of home ownership. So the safety nets that other people might have, we just don’t have. 

That really has exacerbated the kind of impact that people are feeling right now as they’re trying to make ends meet.

You mentioned the exponential growth in the terms of people who now regret or are disappointed with their vote for Donald Trump. Does that mean a preference for Democrats? How should we think about the binary choice between D and R versus what is a clear story about a backlash to Donald Trump’s actions?

I think it is a huge mistake for Democrats to rest on their laurels and think that because of what people are feeling about Trump and Republicans and the sense of disappointment and promises broken that that is automatically going to translate for them as a party and as a brand.

Right now, the Democratic brand has suffered a repeated set of blows among Latino voters. Twenty years of comprehensive immigration reform hasn’t been delivered. It’s a thing that comes up in almost every focus group. 

And part of what the build-up to 2024 was, was not only 20 years of a promise undelivered; it was the chaos at the border, it was feeling like Democrats were focused on everything but Latinos and their families, or everyday Americans and their families, and that they had lost that thread.

Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. You can sign up here to get it in your inbox every week. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: It’s decision time for Kamala Harris

On Wednesday, LinkedIn co-founder and Democratic Party megadonor Reid Hoffman threw cold water on the prospect of a 2028 presidential campaign from former Vice President Kamala Harris. “I think it would be a very challenging path for her and it’s going to be a very noisy field,” Hoffman said when asked at a Politico event in Washington, DC, whether Harris should run again.

His statement comes the same week CNN aired an interview with California Gov. Gavin Newsom, who told Jake Tapper (while fly-fishing?) that he would not run for president if Harris did so — a curious move from someone who swung through South Carolina barely two weeks ago, and who has long been treated as a presumed frontrunner for 2028.

Taken together — and thinking back to our America, Actually episode on the question of whether Harris will run — I think you’re seeing the early stages of what I’d call a light public pressure campaign.

Let me explain: Harris has been curiously mum on most things politics since 2024, but it’s clear she wants to be taken seriously as an option for 2028 and has weighed in from time to time on issues (this week it was AI safety). When we recorded our episode in June, her allies emphasized two political points over and over: She’s leading the early 2028 polls, and nobody has supplanted her with the two groups that anchor the Democratic base, Black voters, and women. But they stressed something else, too. Her former communications director Jamal Simmons told me Harris “should do what makes her happy,” and that “she’s earned the place to run, earned the right to run.” Harris surrogate Erin Wilson put it more sharply: “The idea that she does not deserve the opportunity to make that decision — or that she does not deserve the opportunity to put an infrastructure in place beyond the construct of 107 days — I think is incredibly unfair.”

To me, it seemed the group was less interested in making the case that Harris should run in 2028, and more interested in pushing back against an emerging elite consensus that she shouldn’t. They were fighting for the right for her to choose for herself, without Washington input or pressure from the media. And it came with an implicit acknowledgment: They understood that the party’s biggest donors, whose money and access shape much of the early stages of a presidential race, had moved on from Team Harris.

Hoffman’s statement is particularly notable because of the ideological lane he occupies. He’s not just any rich Democrat — he’s bankrolled several of the party’s newest post-2024 ventures, from the abundance-adjacent WelcomeFest crowd to the $10 million he put behind a super PAC boosting James Talarico’s Senate bid in Texas this summer. If Hoffman’s asking Harris to move on, that’s likely representative of the larger left-of-center apparatus, which is looking for a unifying contender who can fend off a challenge from the activist left in 2028.

Here’s what John Morgan, another big Democratic donor, told me about Harris over the summer:

I do not [want her to run]. I think that everything associated with the Biden administration needs to be put to the side and moved on. … I just think that everything that happened has left a bad taste, and we need a fresh start on that side of the aisle.

As Morgan also pointed out, this was once a group that backed Harris — or at least was initially open to her, even dating back to her first presidential run. Now, he says, the math doesn’t work:

I don’t think the money would come to her and the votes wouldn’t come. … Her natural base is gonna be California, and she’s gonna be competing heavily with Gavin Newsom in California. So they’re gonna be kind of cannibalizing each other’s donors.

Which brings us to Newsom, another left-of-center Bay Area Democrat with a long history of friendly rivalry with Harris who surely knows these donors have had a change of heart. He knows the Reid Hoffmans and John Morgans want a fresh face. He also knows Harris’s allies are right: Just as we heard in South Carolina, Harris maintains favorability among Southern Black voters specifically, and they’re likely the most important voting bloc of any Democratic presidential primary. 

And remember, candidate timing matters: A former vice president with universal name recognition like Harris could take a playbook from Joe Biden, who let Democrat after Democrat announce before he finally entered the 2020 race in April 2019. (And I imagine Newsom also watched Harris freeze the California governor’s race for months — leaving state Democrats in the dark as she decided whether or not to enter.)

So what’s a governor to do? 

Here’s what I think is happening this week: Newsom is putting pressure on Harris to make a decision early. And in doing so, he gives donors an incentive to make clear what they’re saying privately: They don’t want Kamala Harris to run.

It’s cynical, but that’s politics — and I think it’s a much more likely scenario than the one where Newsom earnestly gives up his agency to a longtime political rival. And notably, while the headlines focused on his pledge not to run if Harris gets in the race, I think the setup to it was even more telling. Before making the pledge, Newsom volunteered his own doubt that there will be anything to defer to: “I don’t know if she runs, but we’ll see. But I wouldn’t run if she ran.”

Democrats know Harris’s decision will have a big domino effect on the rest of the race — so much so that it’s worth getting answered early (meaning: as soon after the midterms as possible). But the comments from Newsom, Hoffman, and others should be instructive to Team Harris — and anyone who wants her to mount another presidential campaign. 

This would not be 2020, or even 2024; if Harris were to run, she would likely do so without much support from the major liberal institutions or the left-of-center donors.

In a time of anti-elite backlash and grassroots anger at things like the rise of artificial intelligence and corporate consolidation, that could be an opportunity to embrace a more populist, bottom-up message. There’s just one problem: Is that who Kamala Harris is?

What I’m hearing

This week I talked to Sean Scott, a reporter following faith, immigration, and politics for the Maine Monitor. I wanted to ask him about how the Senate race is playing out from a local perspective — and specifically about how issues like immigration have manifested on the campaign trail.

There’s been so much focus on the candidates in the Maine Senate race — but you’ve been tracking some of the issues that have locally shaped the race. What’s one that has come up in Maine? And how has it played out? 

Immigration policy has been a big issue in Maine this year, and it came to a head this summer after ICE agents shot and killed 26-year-old Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero in Biddeford. The shooting occurred shortly after former Democratic Senate candidate Graham Platner had dropped out of the race because of sexual assault allegations, and many of the Democrats vying to replace him went to Biddeford to speak out against the Trump administration’s approach to immigration enforcement. This included the eventual nominee, Troy Jackson, who said ICE should be dismantled.

Republican Sen. Susan Collins, meanwhile, has drawn scrutiny for her role in negotiating funding for DHS. Protesters stormed her Biddeford office the day of the shooting, calling for her to be voted out. Collins has said she’s pushing for reforms within the immigration agency, and said she asked ICE officials to prioritize Maine as they rolled out body cameras. But the investigation into the fatal shooting is still ongoing, and I think many Mainers are waiting to see if the agency will be held accountable.

Donald Trump’s push for hardline immigration enforcement has been deeply unpopular. Are there any surprising coalitions that have developed in Maine in response?

I cover religion, and one thing that has been really interesting to me this year is the way coalitions of progressive faith leaders have responded to the administration’s mass deportation efforts. This was especially visible during the federal immigration enforcement surge Maine saw in late January. Faith leaders formed a “human wall” outside a business with an immigrant workforce to try and protect them. Nine faith leaders were arrested for trespassing during a pray-in at Sen. Collins’s Portland office, calling for her to vote against any DHS spending bill that would maintain funding for ICE. Faith leaders were instrumental in coordinating mutual aid efforts to help families who were afraid to leave their homes — one minister told me she collected rugs for an immigrant family with young children living in an apartment, worried that a noise complaint could lead to their detention. And a multifaith coalition held a weekly vigil at the jail in Portland for months while immigration detainees were being held there. That jail ended its contract with ICE in April. Just last week, a coalition of clergy from different faiths in Bangor came together to demand that a landlord terminate a lease with ICE.

You’ve been following the rise of Turning Point USA in Maine and the network of evangelical churches that has been central to that rise. How intertwined is the conservative faith community with Republican politics in Maine? 

Maine is one of the least religious states in the country, so it isn’t always front of mind for people. But I reported this spring on one network of evangelical churches that has taken an increasingly active role in politics in recent years, and on how we’ve seen some Republican lawmakers in Maine become more explicit about tying their faith to their politics since Trump took office. The state Senate minority leader started a weekly men’s Bible study for legislators last year. That Bible study, plus increased public outreach by a Christian lobbying group and an expanded prayer caucus at the statehouse, show how conservative Christianity has become more visible in Augusta over the past two years. And Charlie Kirk’s death has certainly spurred greater interest. As of May, Maine had at least 28 church-based Turning Point Faith chapters, twice as many as any other state in New England. The debate over transgender student athletes has been a big one this year, and conservative faith communities have certainly played a role there.

From a national perspective, it feels like the Maine Senate race has maybe gone under the radar since the fallout over Graham Platner, the previous Democratic candidate. Is there still a lot of energy and focus on the race in Maine?

I can’t speak to why the national interest has dwindled, but people are certainly still paying attention here! There’s lots of national money flowing in, and the ads are nonstop.

Welcome to The Midterms, Actually. Every week I’ll be writing about two things: one big idea or trend I see forming across the 2026 primaries, and one thing I’m hearing from a voice on the ground. You can sign up here to get it in your inbox every week. Let’s get into it.

One big idea: What are Republicans actually running on? 

The first-of-its-kind Republican midterms convention began in the same vein as President Donald Trump’s second term: open grift. The president announced a pledge to give every American $5,000 if Republicans win the House and the Senate — part of what he’s calling a new dividend for American voters, and what some Democrats are calling an attempted bribe.

Obviously, there are lots of questions about Trump’s announcement: Who will pay for the $1 trillion-plus dividend? Taxpayers. Could this even happen without congressional approval? Probably not. Why not just vote on it now, while Republicans control Congress? It would likely fail.

But I think the pronouncement — and the GOP convention broadly — is best understood as a proxy for the Republican message in the midterm elections, not a policy roadmap for what Trump would do if Republicans maintained control of the House and Senate.

So what can we actually glean from the GOP’s two-day bonanza in Dallas, and how does the message they were offering on that made-for-TV platform match up with the message they’ve delivered on the campaign trail? I took a close look at the convention speeches on Wednesday and Thursday, dug through our America, Actually reporting focusing on Republican voters and their candidates, and pulled together some trends that help explain the GOP strategy for defying the odds (and the polling) come Election Day.

1. Republicans are mostly in hiding

One reason Trump’s midterm convention sticks out in this year’s landscape: It’s one of the rare places Republicans will campaign out loud. Congressional candidates, even in battleground House districts, have rarely held public events or town halls this year. And as Trump’s unpopularity has continued to grow, driven by rising gas prices and an unpopular war with Iran, it’s not like the GOP has responded by mounting a defense of its leader. They’ve mostly gone AWOL, a result of the electoral pickle the president has put them in. 

Trump is undoubtedly still the most powerful figure within the party, particularly among the Republican base, but Trump is also the biggest motivator for the Democratic base, and is increasingly off-putting to independent voters, who backed him in 2024. His approval has sunk to 33 percent in one recent Reuters/Ipsos poll, the lowest of his presidency, and that same poll found Democrats markedly more fired up for the midterms than Republicans — an enthusiasm gap that’s poison for the party in power. The independents who put him over the top have soured as the war drags on: a UMass poll found more than two-thirds disapprove of his handling of Iran nationally, and four in five say the war has driven up their gas and food prices.

So when Trump tells voters at the GOP midterm convention to “pretend that he’s on the ballot” and turn out in November, I think his opponents listen with glee. Democrats are in the position they’re in because of a brewing electoral backlash to Trump — and the reason Republicans are so hard to find on the campaign trail is that they sense that same backlash is brewing, too. Check out what Ted Cruz said on The View this week: “The big open question is, do Republicans show up?” Cruz asked. “If we stay home, there’s a blue wave.”

2. Even Trump is on the defensive

It’s rare to see Trump acknowledge any semblance of failure, but he came close during his speech during the convention’s first night. Trump was clearly on the defensive throughout his remarks: he sought to make the case for his (unpopular) tariff policy, he defended the (deeply unpopular) Iran war but without the usual bluster, and he acknowledged that gas prices may not fall until after Election Day. Last year, he predicted gas prices would soon hit $2 a gallon; this week he’s asking for still more patience after they hit a record $4.15 on Labor Day. From his speech:

“You know, it happens to me all the time. Guys come up, ‘You know, I wish you didn’t do the war in Iran, gasoline’s up, ba, ba, ba.’ And I say, ‘Well, let me ask you…let me ask you one question. Can Iran have a nuclear weapon?’ ‘Absolutely not.’ ‘Well, then I’m right, then I win, okay?’” 

But it’s worth remembering that “be patient” is a controversial message even among Republican voters. When our America, Actually team spent a day outside gas stations in Allentown this summer — deep in PA-7, one of the most contested House districts in the country (watch the episode) — we heard a clean split. There were some Republicans willing to eat the higher price in service of Trump’s war:

“Yes, because our president is actually doing something about Iran. He’s not sugarcoating it. It’s something we need to do, and in the long run it’s gonna be better for everybody.”

And there were other Republicans who voted for Trump and are furious: “I voted for him with his promises to the American people…and I think he’s let us down.”

Another put the broken promise plainly: “I blame the president because he indicated to us he’s gonna drop all these costs. I know it can’t happen overnight, but when is it gonna happen? It’s outrageous.”

The message now is to wait until after the election. A lot of the president’s own voters at the pump aren’t sure they can.

3. Notice the candidates who weren’t there

Maybe the most revealing thing about Trump’s convention was the guest list, or more notably, the no-shows. MAGA celebrities who owe their careers to Trump packed the stage, but not a lot of the Republicans who are actually on the ballot in places they must win. Notable absences include candidates like John Sununu in New Hampshire and Susan Collins in Maine, and various congressional candidates from battleground races. And while their political calculus may be obvious — they want to avoid a Dallas-with-Trump photo op that ends up in a challenger’s attack ad — it reflects the “win by hiding” strategy that candidates not named Vivek Ramaswamy seem to be deploying.

Here’s the play in a nutshell: keep enough distance from Trump to maintain credibility and independence, but rely on Trump to raise money, drive up Republican turnout, and savagely attack Democratic opponents.

When conservative activist CJ Pearson came on our show, he insisted the GOP doesn’t have an electability problem at all — voters will see Democrats as too radical on topics like socialism and transgender women in sports, which came up repeatedly in the convention, and Republicans can still find ways to address affordability concerns. “These are 80/20 issues,” he said. ”And so I actually really like our odds here…we’re going to overperform. The Senate, we’re gonna hold onto. The House will be a dogfight, but I like our chances.” He even predicted this exact week, telling me the party would “see a change in his messaging and a reset at the midterm convention in Dallas,” after which “you’ll see those numbers start to change.” Whether Dallas actually delivered that reset — or just a $5,000 bribe and a defensive Trump — is, generously, an open question. And the attendance sheet suggests some of Pearson’s own party’s candidates aren’t waiting around to find out.

4. The JD Vance tightrope

One person who doesn’t have the benefit of keeping distance from Trump is JD Vance, his vice president and the presumed GOP frontrunner for the 2028 presidential nomination. He’s close to right-wing voices who have soured on Trump, and has to worry about voters longer than the president will have to, and the Iran war, tariffs, and Trump’s promises all present conflicts for him. Just last week, he took heat from prominent voices in Trump’s coalition for his refusal to disavow Tucker Carlson, the podcast host and former TV anchor who’s become a vocal critic of the Israeli government and Trump’s second-term agenda. 

Looking ahead to his speech tonight, I’ll be watching how carefully he handles Trump’s tariffs, the Iran war, and gas prices. He’s tried to strike a more empathetic note on the economy than Trump, who has described talk of an affordability crisis as a made-up narrative to hurt him politically that — to the extent it was real — was President Joe Biden’s fault anyway. “They caused [it], but we’re fixing it,” the president said Wednesday.

Vance says he won’t “sit down” with Trump to discuss his 2028 plans until after the midterms, but Trump is not the kind of person who seems likely to give his successor a lot of room to run away from his record. 

What I’m hearing

This week I talked to Charlotte Matherly, a reporter at the Concord Monitor who has been following the underdiscussed New Hampshire Senate race. New Hampshire is one of the Democrats’ must-win states to take back the Senate, but there’s been some concern that Republican candidate John Sununu — a former New Hampshire senator with a long family legacy in the state —  could give Democratic nominee Rep. Chris Pappas deep problems. I talked to Matherly about lessons from the state’s primary and what to expect in the general election.

So, the New Hampshire primary just happened — what were the takeaways? And why has this race gone under the radar? 

With the progressive versus moderate conversation happening nationally, that was my biggest question heading into Tuesday. Would we see that progressive wave or ripple or whatever you want to call it here too? Because we did have a progressive candidate [Karishma Manzur] run against Chris Pappas, who really focused on humanitarianism and ending what she saw as US complicity in foreign wars.

Voters who liked her were really passionate about her, but in the end, I think people just wanted to vote for what they know, and [Pappas] was already in Congress. The progressive wave that we’ve seen across the country has not necessarily translated here. 

Why do you think New Hampshire has stood apart from the national progressive wave? 

To give you context for New Hampshire politics, it’s always kind of different from the national electorate. We’re a true purple state — independents are the largest voting bloc here. But there are some quirks. Like, for the past 20 years, except for a few exceptions, voters tend to send Republicans to the state legislature, but usually vote for Democrats when it comes to Congress or presidential elections. So splitting your ticket is really common here. And I hear from people every time I go out to the polls that someone has switched their party in the past few years, or they fall back and forth. So it’s really hard to tell where the partisan lines fall here. 

How has the Republican candidate, John Sununu, handled Donald Trump’s popularity? 

Years ago [in 2024], Sununu actually penned an op-ed calling Donald Trump a “loser.” And there’s been some bite from the party about that. But Trump actually ended up endorsing him, and he’s also shared the backing of powerful fundraisers and a lot of conservative organizations hoping to flip the seat red. But still, Sununu is trying to emphasize his independence from the administration. He’s saying he’s not worried about currying favor or anything like that, but he hasn’t really put too many policy differences between himself and Trump. 

One example that I can think of is that he said he opposed the [reported $300 billion] included in Trump’s deal with Iran that was earmarked for reconstruction. He had said he didn’t think that the US should provide any money for reconstruction. And so there’s been a few things like that that he has tried to sort of strike out on his own from the president.

Last month, Florida state Rep. Angie Nixon won the state’s Democratic Senate nomination in a major upset over her better-funded opponent, retired Army Lt. Col. Alex Vindman. Her victory was quickly slotted into a narrative about the Democratic Party’s insurgent progressive movement, which has triumphed in House and Senate primaries in Michigan, Colorado, New York, and elsewhere. 

But while Nixon supports progressive policies, she argues there’s more to the story than a simple progressive-versus-centrist tale. She says that she out-worked and out-organized her opponent — and that Floridians across the political spectrum are hungry for change. 

Vox’s Astead Herndon invited Nixon on a special pop-up episode of America, Actually to break down how she won the nomination, why she thinks there’s a path to victory in what many analysts believe is a solidly red state, and what she wants to get done as a senator if she prevails in November.

Below is an excerpt of their conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

Why do you think your victory took so many by surprise?

It took so many by surprise because people both tend to underestimate a Black woman — especially a progressive Black woman in politics — and then one who wasn’t able to raise as much money. But as a former single mom for 12 years, I know how to make a dollar stretch.

This win is attributed to good old-fashioned grassroots organizing. I am a former union organizer. I am a community organizer, and I know the importance of people power and talking to people and getting them energized about why they should vote and why they should see themselves in this country.

How much would you ascribe your win to the type of politics that you’re describing here versus the progressive policies that you championed? Should we take this as a sign that Medicare-for-all and “abolish ICE” have strong support in Florida?

It’s all of it, right? It is the hard work that we put into this race to raise awareness about who I am and the policies and positions that I stand for, which are policies and positions that the majority of hardworking, everyday people stand for. 

Just because we want access to quality healthcare and affordable housing and fully funded public schools, they try to fear-monger and make it seem as though we are communist and we’re not.

We are not communist. We are people who want to put hardworking, everyday people in power so that they can determine and shape what our communities look like and what our economies look like. There’s nothing radical or extreme about that.

Democrats are still dismissing your chances to win a general election. Prominent pundits have said that Democrats should not invest in Florida, and that would amount to wasted money. Political forecasters moved the race in the Republican direction after your primary victory, arguing that the progressive politics makes it easier for Republicans to win in a state like Florida.

I wanted to ask about electability. Can you give me the case for how you can win a statewide race amongst such skepticism? 

The same way that I was able to win a primary being outspent and out-raised 18 to 1. I am building a very unique, diverse coalition of people. We’ve had Republicans and independents that crossed over in the primary to vote for me in the primary. They also volunteer in our campaign. They’ve made donations. 

We literally have a bunch of Republicans and libertarians who have been stating that they are voting for me because they like that I am no-nonsense. They appreciate that I am trying to put a check on what is coming out of Washington, DC, all of the cruelty and the corruption, and that is the winning message.

Look, we’re up against a woman, [incumbent Republican Sen. Ashley Moody], who allowed the theft of $10 million. She allowed money to be stolen from medically needy and low-income kids, to be diverted toward two citizen-led ballot initiatives that actually caused us to not have better health in our communities. 

People are frustrated, and that’s all Ashley Moody has done — just look out for herself, her campaign donors and these billionaires. People are ready for elected officials to stop bailing out these big businesses [and] actually look out for everyday people.

In November 2023, you introduced a resolution to the Florida House calling for “the immediate de-escalation and ceasefire…in Israel and occupied Palestine.” It was rejected 104 to 2. And it earned you some bad blood with some of the members of the Florida Jewish Caucus. The chair actually said that the resolution was born out of ignorance and antisemitism.

Obviously, the Democratic Party base has shifted on that issue over the last several years. There’s been an open discussion about whether Joe Biden and Kamala Harris did themselves damage in the 2024 election by not breaking more explicitly with Israel’s actions in Gaza.

Do you think that was a mistake for Democrats?

I would say yes. I would say that we have to have really uncomfortable conversations amongst our different communities and we just have to talk. But I feel that they did do a disservice in regards to just going along with the AIPAC lobby.

You had mentioned that you don’t support sending any money or any weapons to Israel at this moment, but I also wanted to ask about things like BDS, the movement to boycott, divest, or sanction Israel. Is that something you support?

It is. I’m a Black woman who is a descendant of slaves, and who is the descendant of people from the civil rights movement, and I know how we used boycotts and we used protest to gain our civil rights for our community. So I’m fully supportive of that.

You repeatedly said that you don’t support defunding the police on your website. It says that you support demilitarizing the police. And that “real safety comes from good jobs, strong schools, affordable housing, and healthcare for all — not from more cameras, more cages, and more agents.”

What is the difference between that and defunding?

Whatever folks think the difference is. I’m not going to box myself in because I understand how they’ll try to cut and clip things with me saying certain words.

But doesn’t that sound a little bit like lessening the resources that go to police to focus on other things? I mean, that sounds a little like the same thing.

It sounds like I know that is my position. I want to defund Flock cameras because bad cops are stalking their ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends. And so to-may-toe, to-mah-toe. I literally said this before and that is what I am for. I’m not trying to get clipped in any kind of way.

Let me ask you this way. I appreciate the focus on root causes, and I think you’ve laid that out that that’s where you want the energy to go — that real public safety comes from focusing on the things that cause people to commit crimes in the first place, but those often take a long time to show effect.

If we’re talking about the root causes of crime, what is the message to someone whose community is unsafe right now that does not include policing?

What I would say is, making sure that we invest in making sure people have more jobs and we invest in community control of the police. I totally believe in civil review boards and that type of thing, but I believe in making sure that people’s most basic needs are met. 

One of the things that I believe could help that right off the bat is things like universal healthcare, or at a minimum, extending the ACA subsidies so that we can drive down these healthcare premium costs. Or fully funding these programs that allow people to have access to first-time homebuyer programs. 

I was a single mom for 12 years, and I took part in the first-time homebuyer program that was funded from the federal government. That trickled down to the state and then to the local government. That helped me with down payment assistance as well as closing costs and those types of programs. We need to put policies in place that are allowing people to be good.

We need to push for universal child care. For every $1 that is invested by the government, it puts $3 back into the economy so parents can get to work. They can be able to make sure that they have money to put their children in different programs. We need to invest in programs to keep our children off the streets.

There’s been so much effort to put you in one of the boxes that have defined the Democratic ideological battles — DSA versus establishment. I hear in this interview how that doesn’t neatly fit with what it seems like you’ve done in Florida. 

Where do you think this campaign fits into the ongoing question of where do Democrats go next?

We’re coalition builders, we’re aggregators. Folks should know, I was a vice chair of a local Democratic Party. I was also the field director and the political director with the state party. I have never fit in a box. I was a union member and I also led a statewide organization that was straight-up progressive.

We need all these things to fight back against this Donald Trump regime. Look, this man is not going to leave willingly in 2028. He’s created a paramilitary force in the form of ICE that is getting away with shooting people and slaughtering them on camera while they’re masked without any accountability. They’re pushing to see how far they can go.

Granted, Black people have been getting slaughtered on camera without accountability for a while, but now they are doing it to people who aren’t just Black, who aren’t just Latino. They are banking on us being normalized with what’s happening.

First lady Michelle Obama says, “They go low, we go high.” I’m saying, “We get loud, we push back. We organize stronger and harder so that we can win and change this country and build a new vision for the next 250 years, where we have a Florida and an America for all.”

After 12 years of dominating American politics — either as president, as a candidate, or from the sidelines — Donald Trump will finally exit the stage in 2028, and it’s anybody’s guess what will come next. But one thing we do know is that Gen Z, many of whom were children during Trump’s first campaign, will play a large role in shaping that future.

What’s less clear is what direction they might choose or what their politics are in the first place.

We do know a few things, thanks to a Vox collaboration with the polling firm Murmuration. For one, they’re highly independent: Almost 30 percent answered “none of the above” when they were asked to choose their political label in Murmuration’s survey. They’re an economically insecure cohort, at least for now; Murmuration found that only 28 percent of respondents between the ages of 18 and 30 said they could cover an unexpected expense of $500. And they had the largest gender gap of any age group when it came to supporting the Democratic presidential nominee in 2024 — women preferred Kamala Harris by 17 percentage points over men.

To find out more, Vox’s Astead Herndon spoke with Gen Z researcher Rachel Janfaza for a recent episode of America, Actually. They discussed the group’s political identities, preferences, and top issues, and what that all could mean for politics going forward. They discussed an important distinction between two versions of Gen Z, and whether its infamous gender gap is shifting. They also touched on how, contrary to seemingly everyone else, Gen Z is hope-maxxing.

Below is an excerpt of Astead’s conversation with Janfaza, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

You’ve done a lot of work around the different Gen Zs. I’ve heard you talk about Gen Z 1 versus Gen Z 2. How would we describe those differences?

I call this the theory of the two Gen Zs. I really started to cultivate it doing focus groups with young people in 2022, hearing the way that high school students at the time and college students at the time just had a different outlook, and I realized that those who had graduated high school before the start of the pandemic, those Gen Z-ers, just had a different worldview than the younger half of Gen Z, who were still in high school at the time that the pandemic hit.

And that is because of the taste of independence that people on the older cusp of Gen Z had prior to the lockdown situation. Anyone who is between roughly 29 and 22, I would say, is Gen Z 1.0, and anyone younger than that would be Gen Z 2.0.

And there’s no official end date to Gen Z right now. Like, it’s sort of 1997 to 2012, so it’s not very clear yet.

Can you just name for me what the difference was between the generations? How did that shape a different form of politics?

Gen Z 1.0 really came of age during Trump’s first term in office. This was a new phenomenon. He was breaking down past barriers, and we saw a lot of youth-led activism in response to actions or inaction from the first Trump administration.

You saw things like the March for Our Lives and climate strikes and the Black Lives Matter movement. And there was this very real sense that, you know, if we protest and demand change, perhaps there could be a difference.

Whereas Gen Z 2.0 came of age during the Biden era. This was a post-Covid sort of upbringing. And they really grew resistant to authority because they saw Democrats in charge during the time when kids went back to school and when there were things like mask mandates and vaccine mandates, especially in blue areas across the country where Democrats were handling the way that schools were reopening.

Young people whose lives and childhoods were on the line felt like they were guinea pigs in an experiment that they didn’t sign up for, and I think this is when we saw a movement away from Democrats. I don’t necessarily think that was toward Republicans.

Trump capitalized on this in 2024. Broadly speaking, Gen Z 2.0 is far less trusting of authority and institutions, far more independent. They hate labels, and this isn’t just political. They hate labels when it comes to gender, their relationships. No one wants to be boxed in. I hear this all the time in my focus groups, and so they just moved away from both parties writ large.

I also want to ask a couple of questions specifically about the gender divide, because that was such a big topic in the 2024 election.

We heard at that time, and I reported on, the change among young men that we saw manifested in that race. There was a 17-point gap between the votes of Gen Z men and Gen Z women. Before we get to where we are now, what do you think drove that gap?

No. The easy thing to say is it’s the algorithm, but that’s not the whole picture. I think a lot of young women felt like their bodily autonomy, freedom, rights were on the line. And a lot of young men care about that, but when I asked them, “What’s the top issue in the 2024 election?” few said abortion. They were like, “I care about that, but that’s not an issue that personally affects me.” And so I think that’s sort of what it came down to.

Women literally felt like it was their futures that were in question. And when you talk about the gender gap, you noted that young men shifted to the right, and that’s of course true.

Young women, since 2017, have remarkably moved to the left. And there have been a number of different causes to that, but every time there’s been a social wedge issue, whether it was early with immigration during Trump’s first term, the MeToo movement, the conversation about reproductive healthcare access and the fall of Roe v. Wade and the Dobbs decision … there have been so many examples of things that have pushed women further to the left, and then also a frustration with the way that Trump talks about women or accusations that have been made against him.

This is part of what I think makes this political period for Gen Z so fascinating. The Trump era will shape history across every generation, but Gen Z are the ones whose ideology was forming. And so there was this real sisterhood that emerged between young women during this time, where both on social media and in person, they were finding camaraderie around this shared fear for their future, but also appreciation of their individual rights and freedoms.

And young men didn’t see that same sort of bonding happening. And we talked a lot in 2024 about how Democrats had a problem with young men because they weren’t actively reaching out to young men. I’m the first person to say that Democrats really screwed that up, and that was a problem. But I think that there were not shared spaces for young men to come together in that way as there were for young women. I think that was part of what has driven this gap as well.

Should we update our thinking, though, of that gender divide from then to now? Like, are we still seeing the same big gaps between voting and political behavior from Gen Z men and women?

No. So largely, when I ask young people about the gender gap, they acknowledge that it exists, but they don’t like it. They don’t want to be stuck in this divide. Gen Z wants out of the gender war. They do.

We’re also now seeing a generation unite around a new set of issues that are pretty communal, that everyone can kind of agree upon. There’s a new shared set of issues that are less gendered and more affecting everybody.

AI? What are you talking about?

AI and the economy. Gen Z now agrees that the two main issues are AI and the economy. And obviously those are related.

I see this. You’re saying the gender gap among young people was at its peak because the parties were positioning themselves on gendered lines as well. And now, because of the consensus about issues that touch everyone, mainly the economy and AI, it’s a little bit of a permission structure to put the knives down in the gender fight because everyone’s lives are affected by this.

I think a lot of the gender war in the first place was kind of manufactured by people who were talking about Gen Z and not to them. You had the main candidates for president playing into that, too, and it was a man versus a woman, and it was kind of like, “These are your two options.” And we’re far past that.

I’ve talked about how Gen Z is hope-maxxing. You can say, “Oh, like it’s giving Obama,” but they really are looking for something to feel excited about. It’s enough of the doom and gloom. Growing up in this era has been exhausting.

The division and the vitriol isn’t fun for anyone. And maybe it’s the hopeless optimist in me, but I think that there is a real appetite for a post-Trumpian era of politics that is just less toxic. And that feels more hopeful and gives you something to rally around and unite around, rather than to be divided.