Politics

In the weeks since I left office in January, I’ve been committing my time and attention to the kinds of things that inevitably get shorted when you serve in public office, no matter how much you try to do right by them. I’ve been tackling a fearsome backlog of neglected work at home, reading and writing more widely, strengthening friendships, and above all making up for lost time with my husband Chasten and with our children, Penelope and Gus, who were born while I was serving as Secretary and are now in preschool.

Of course, every day I have also been witnessing what is happening in our country with extreme concern, engaging in conversations about what it means and where to go next, and reflecting on what has happened to bring us to this point. Everyone I know has been doing the same – absorbing shocking news on a daily basis, and working to make sense of a barrage of developments, trying to focus on what matters most and make sense of its looming impact on everyday American life.

I’ve been doing this mainly from our home in Traverse City, Michigan. We bought the house five years ago, and then it truly became home after we became parents in 2021. We live close to where Chasten attended high school, not far from the pole barn where his parents operate their mom-and-pop landscaping business, down the road from two small cattle farms, and within short driving distance of several transportation construction projects that count among the tens of thousands now being built with funds from the infrastructure package that I spent most of the last few years working on.

Though an adopted and relatively new Michigander, it wasn’t long before I was approached about potentially running for office here. Next year will bring elections for the Governor’s office and for one of our state’s seats in the U.S. Senate. I thought seriously about both, especially after being encouraged by some of the leaders in Michigan whom I most respect, as well as by people I’ve encountered when I’m picking up groceries, catching a flight, or at the mall with my family. I’ve had long conversations with neighbors, advisors, friends, elected officials, and with Chasten about whether to run. I reflected on what I could offer in light of the exceptionally high standards of leadership and service set by Governor Gretchen Whitmer, Senator Debbie Stabenow, and Senator Gary Peters. I considered what I could bring to the race compared to other likely candidates, and what running and serving would mean compared to other ways I could make a difference in the years ahead.

I care deeply about the outcome of both races, but I have decided against competing in either. My party has a deep and talented bench here in Michigan, and I am certain that we will nominate an outstanding candidate for each office. Here in Michigan and around the country, I remain enthusiastic about helping candidates who share our values – and who understand that in this moment, leadership means not only opposing today’s cruel chaos, but also presenting a vision of a better alternative.

While my own plans don’t include running for office in 2026, I am intensely focused on consolidating, communicating, and supporting this kind of vision. For years I have argued that the decisions made by elected leaders matter entirely because of how they shape our everyday lives – and that the choices made in this decade will determine, for the rest of our lifetimes, the American people’s access to freedom, security, and democracy.

Today, our country is demonstrably less free, less secure, less democratic – and less prosperous – than it was just ten weeks ago. Yet the answer is not to revert to yesterday’s inadequate status quo. Rather, it is time to show how better future-facing choices about our government and society can make us all freer, safer, more empowered – and more prosperous.

This moment requires us to relentlessly commit to what we value most, and ruthlessly lay aside whatever could divide us or distract us from this vitally important focus. An opposition only has depth when, alongside all that it stands against, it presents people with a vision of a better future, the one that they are missing out on because of the leaders now in power.

We must be bold as well as clever. Yes, we must choose our battles, but once we do, we must be prepared to actually fight them. And we must take this contest everywhere. It is not enough to take a hard look at the substantive ideas we have to offer, and our ways of explaining them, though this is certainly necessary. We now must also be more original and creative when it comes to where we make our case. The information landscape of this country is almost unrecognizably different from what it was like when most current officeholders entered politics – and will soon shift even more dramatically as digital media evolve to the next level and as artificial intelligence deepens its role as editor and, newly, as creator.

In the months ahead I will be spending more time engaging both legacy and digital media in the service of a politics of everyday life, rooted in the values of freedom, security, and democracy. I will be engaging partners, allies, friends and strangers in the service of a more convincing and widespread account of American prosperity than either side has so far offered. And I’ll also be taking advantage of my exit from office to spend much more time offline, in dialogue with people like my neighbors in Michigan and communities like South Bend, Indiana, where I grew up and served as mayor. You’ll be seeing me on familiar platforms and newer ones, developing this vision and discussing with fellow Americans what they most need from their government and their country at a time like this.

As always, I’ll be focusing on things like the prosperity of the industrial Midwest, the future of our cities and towns, the condition of our infrastructure, the need for structural reform in our democracy, the outlook for our climate, the proper role of technology, the need for greater belonging in American life, the struggle against poverty, and the contemporary meaning of deeply American traditions around community, faith, and service. I will be using my voice, and amplifying others, in the service of the values that can bring answers on these and other issues. I believe this work is more urgent than ever as America wrestles with itself in new and sometimes frightening ways, though much of what we see around us today is more “precedented” than we might admit.

As I spend time with family, reading to the kids at bedtime, comparing notes on the common cold with other parents at school drop-off, keeping up with the flow of innocent and urgent questions that come from toddlers (do onions grow on trees, why do people have cheeks, what happened to our old dog, why is winter and where is summer), I am simultaneously thankful to be away from Washington and yet also more motivated than ever to contribute to the future of this country. Every time I zip the twins up in their winter coats, I’m reminded how much they depend on adults, on everyone now old enough to be active in the civic and political life of this country, making decisions that will shape every part of their lives, years before they themselves are old enough to weigh in with so much as a vote.

As a mayor, a military officer, a candidate, and a cabinet secretary, service has defined nearly all of my professional life. That experience – alongside my experience as a husband and father – has reminded me that any office, or campaign for office, must be about the values you serve, never the other way around. Our shared values are very much at stake in the actions that each of us will take in the coming months and years, inside and outside the realm of elected politics.

I once heard it said that hope is the consequence of action, rather than its cause. In this troubled season of American life, I think that more hope – not just for a party seeking a political win but for a country seeking a better politics – will come by way of action. I will be doing my part, as I know you will.

Open thread.