The Democratic party has been way too cool
In the wake of Jerry Nadler's 33-year tenure, four Democrats are contesting a Manhattan congressional seat that has become an unlikely mirror for the Democratic Party's deeper uncertainties — about age and charisma, institutional knowledge and outsider energy, single-issue clarity and broad coalition-building. The June 23rd primary in New York's 12th district pits a Kennedy grandson against a policy veteran, an AI-focused legislator against a theatrical Trump antagonist, each embodying a different answer to the question the party has been asking since Biden's withdrawal: what does it mean to lead now? The outcome may carry meaning well beyond one wealthy slice of Manhattan.
- Nadler's retirement cracked open a safe Democratic seat and transformed it into a live experiment in what the post-Biden party actually values.
- Jack Schlossberg's famous name and nearly a million Instagram followers are colliding with Micah Lasher's two decades of unglamorous, consequential political work — and neither has yet pulled decisively ahead.
- Roughly $12 million in outside AI industry money has flooded the race around Alex Bores, turning a local primary into a battleground over who gets to shape the regulation of transformative technology.
- George Conway's relentless anti-Trump theatrics — leather jackets, hockey goals, a raised middle finger at a presidential motorcade — have generated the most fundraising in the field, raising the question of whether performance has become its own form of political substance.
- With polling volatile and early voting already underway, the race is landing in genuine uncertainty, a small but telling signal of a party still searching for its footing.
Jerry Nadler's retirement after 33 years opened a door in one of Manhattan's wealthiest congressional districts, and four Democrats rushed through it carrying sharply different visions of what their party needs.
Jack Schlossberg, 33 and JFK's grandson, is the race's most recognizable face — and its least conventionally credentialed candidate. His Harvard MBA and Vogue correspondent stint generated more attention for his looks than his policy depth, yet his 882,000 Instagram followers and youthful energy have earned him Nancy Pelosi's endorsement and a genuine following. When critics called his campaign thin on substance, he responded with pointed sarcasm about the party needing more old people with less energy.
Micah Lasher, the candidate Nadler himself endorsed, offers the opposite: a career built from the ground up, from managing a city council race at 19 to serving as chief of staff to the state attorney general and policy director to the governor. He is serious, experienced, and struggling to break through. His 8,143 Instagram followers tell a story about the gap between résumé depth and voter excitement.
Alex Bores has staked his campaign on artificial intelligence regulation, a focus that made him the unlikely center of a $12 million proxy war between OpenAI and Anthropic. His rivals have noted the irony of a fierce industry critic accepting support from a competing tech giant and a billionaire crypto investor — a tension that has made him a symbol of how wealthy interests can quietly reshape democratic contests.
George Conway, a former Republican and Kellyanne Conway's estranged husband, has leaned hard into anti-Trump performance: leather jackets, hockey goals, a middle finger at a presidential motorcade, and direct-address ads promising Trump an orange jumpsuit. He has raised the most money — $6.6 million — and his rivals take him seriously even as his approach sometimes feels more theatrical than substantive.
The district's large Jewish population has not forced an Israel litmus test the way other New York primaries have, leaving the race to turn on something harder to define: whether Democratic voters in 2026 want youth and cultural energy, deep institutional experience, single-issue clarity, or the catharsis of an unrelenting Trump antagonist. The June 23rd answer may say something important about the national party's direction.
Jerry Nadler's decision to step down after 33 years representing New York's 12th congressional district—a sprawling, wealthy slice of Manhattan that runs from the Upper West Side through the old-money enclaves of the Upper East Side and down to Billionaires' Row—opened a door that four Democrats have rushed through, each carrying a different vision of what the party needs right now.
The primary, which closes on June 23rd after early voting began on June 13th, has become something unexpected: a referendum on Democratic priorities that extends far beyond this single district. The race has crystallized around competing questions that the party has been wrestling with since Joe Biden's withdrawal from the 2024 race forced a reckoning over age and generational change. Should Democrats prioritize youth and energy, or experience and institutional knowledge? Should they focus on prosecuting Donald Trump, regulating artificial intelligence, or simply projecting cultural relevance? The four candidates offer starkly different answers.
Jack Schlossberg, 33, is the grandson of John F. Kennedy and the most famous name in the race, though also the least conventionally qualified. He holds an MBA from Harvard but has held few substantive jobs. His most visible recent role came in 2024 when Vogue hired him as a political correspondent—a position that generated more attention for his appearance (the magazine's profile praised his "towering frame, dark hair, and strong jawline" and featured him on a skateboard) than for his journalism. He wrote seven pieces for the magazine, including a list of debate talking points and a repost of his Democratic National Convention speech. Yet Schlossberg has built a formidable social media presence, with 882,000 Instagram followers, and he campaigns as a symbol of Democratic youth and vitality. When asked about critics who say he lacks credentials and that his campaign feels like a Tom Hanks movie, Schlossberg responded with sharp sarcasm, suggesting the party had been "way too cool" and needed "more old people" with "less energy." He was born and raised in New York City and, at a recent campaign stop at Barney Greengrass, a Jewish deli on the Upper West Side, celebrated with supporters over a sandwich named in his honor.
Micah Lasher, a state representative who describes himself as a nerd, offers the opposite profile. He began working on political campaigns at 16, managed a city council race by 19, and has spent more than two decades in unglamorous but consequential roles: chief of staff to the state attorney general, policy director to the governor, legislative affairs director under Michael Bloomberg. Most importantly, he worked as an aide to Nadler himself, earning the outgoing congressman's endorsement in February. Nadler called Lasher "New York's protector-in-chief against all things Trump" and praised his "sense of urgency, creativity, and fearlessness." Yet Lasher has struggled to generate excitement. His campaign slogan, "Ready for the Fight," has not resonated widely. As of Thursday, he had 8,143 Instagram followers—a gap that reflects a broader challenge: voters seem drawn to celebrity and charisma, not résumé depth.
Alex Bores, another state representative and described as handsome in a bookish way, has built his campaign around a single issue: regulating artificial intelligence. That focus has made him the unwitting center of a proxy war between rival AI companies. Outside groups representing AI interests have spent approximately $12 million on the race, with a group backed by OpenAI co-founder Greg Brockman spending $6.2 million to attack Bores, while Anthropic, OpenAI's main competitor, has spent a similar amount supporting him. During a recent televised debate, Lasher pointed out the irony of Bores accepting support from Anthropic and a billionaire crypto investor while positioning himself as the industry's fiercest critic. Bores defended himself as the staunchest opponent of AI expansion, but the outside spending has made him a symbol of something many voters find troubling: the ability of wealthy interests to shape primary contests.
George Conway, 62, is a former Republican and prominent Trump critic who only moved back to New York City in 2025 after separating from his wife, Kellyanne Conway, the former Trump campaign manager. He has cultivated a hard-man persona that sometimes veers into parody. He has appeared in campaign ads wearing an ill-fitting Top Gun-style leather jacket, on ice skates scoring a hockey goal, and most recently giving the middle finger to a presidential motorcade. In one ad, he addresses Trump directly: "I know you like putting your name on everything. But the only thing your name is going to be left on when I'm done with you is an orange jumpsuit you're going to have to wear in prison." Despite the theatricality, Conway has raised the most money of the four: $6.6 million as of early June, including a $2 million personal loan to his campaign. His high profile and serious fundraising mean his rivals take him seriously, even if his approach sometimes seems more performance than substance.
The district itself—encompassing the Seinfeld-era Upper West Side, the generational wealth of the Upper East Side, and the astronomical real estate of Billionaires' Row—has a large Jewish population, and notably, none of the Democratic candidates has been willing to call Israel's war on Gaza a genocide, suggesting the race has sidestepped the Israel litmus test that has dominated other New York primaries. Endorsements have come from high-profile Democrats: Nancy Pelosi, who attended JFK's inauguration as a student in 1961, backed Schlossberg in February, calling him "the best of his generation." Pat Ryan, a New York congressman, endorsed Bores. Anthony Scaramucci, the short-lived Trump White House communications director turned podcaster, serves as Conway's finance co-chair.
Polling has been volatile. Lasher led in a mid-May survey, but days earlier Bores had been ahead. The race reflects a party in genuine uncertainty about its direction. Is the priority to nominate someone young and vital, signaling a break from the gerontocratic leadership that dominated the Biden era? Is it to choose the most experienced operative, someone who knows how to navigate Washington? Should Democrats focus on a single transformative issue like AI regulation, or on the unifying promise of holding Trump accountable? The answers will come on June 23rd, and they may tell the national party something important about what Democratic voters actually want.
Citações Notáveis
I think people are right. The Democratic party has been way too cool. We've been way too exciting. We've got way too many young people who are athletic and healthy.— Jack Schlossberg, responding to questions about his credentials
The only thing your name is going to be left on when I'm done with you is an orange jumpsuit you're going to have to wear in prison.— George Conway, addressing Trump in a campaign advertisement
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why has this race become so closely watched? It's one House seat in New York.
Because it's become a test case for what the Democratic Party values right now. After Biden stepped aside, there's been this urgent conversation about age, about generational change, about what the party should prioritize. This race has all four candidates embodying different answers to that question.
So Schlossberg is the youth candidate, Lasher is the experience candidate—what about the other two?
Bores has made himself the single-issue candidate. He's betting that AI regulation is the issue that matters most, that voters will overlook the awkwardness of taking money from Anthropic while claiming to oppose the industry. Conway is betting that voters just want someone who will fight Trump, literally and metaphorically.
The outside spending on Bores is remarkable. Twelve million dollars?
It's a window into how corporate interests can shape a primary without the candidate necessarily controlling the narrative. Bores is trying to say he's the industry's toughest critic, but he's funded by one side of an industry war. It's hard to claim independence when you're the proxy in someone else's fight.
And Schlossberg—he's famous for being famous, essentially.
Mostly, yes. He has the Kennedy name, he's handsome, he posts pictures of himself paddleboarding and doing bodybuilding moves. But he's also genuinely young in a party that's been criticized for being run by people in their seventies and eighties. That matters to some voters.
Does he have any actual accomplishments?
Not really. Seven articles for Vogue, mostly reposts of his own speeches. An MBA. But he's betting that in this moment, vitality and symbolism matter more than a long résumé. Nadler's endorsement of Lasher suggests the party establishment disagrees.
What does the outcome tell us?
Whether Democrats are ready to genuinely embrace generational change, or whether they still value institutional knowledge and experience. Whether single issues like AI can drive a primary, or whether anti-Trump messaging remains the unifying force. The answers will shape how the party thinks about its future.