The 2028 Democratic primary isn’t officially underway, but if you lean in closely, you can already hear the clinking of silverware at the self-cannibalism buffet. A dozen forks, half a platform, and the unshakeable belief that this will be the year a candidate emerges who is both inspiring and electable, progressive and pragmatic, fierce but… digestible.
The problem isn’t a lack of talent. It’s that there’s too much of it. Like a potluck where everyone brings three casseroles and a TED Talk, the Democratic bench is crowded, passionate, and vaguely chaotic. But unlike the other guys—who rally behind whichever strongman yells loudest—the Democrats insist on tasting every dish. Slowly. Thoroughly. And often publicly.
Vice President Kamala Harris is the natural heir apparent. She’s got the experience, the résumé, the poise. She’s handled everything from diplomacy to maternal mortality to being meme-fodder for the far-right. If she runs, the base will have to reckon with something it doesn’t always do well: continuity.
Then there’s Gavin Newsom, the California dreamboat who somehow makes slickness look sincere. He’s been everywhere lately—meeting with governors, debating Sean Hannity, filming commercials that smell like ambition. He may be the only man alive who could turn a gubernatorial recall into a pre-presidential glow-up.
Gretchen Whitmer is looming, too. Quietly. Confidently. With that specific “Midwest don’t test me” energy. She governed through kidnappers and COVID and came out the other side with a rising national profile and a blueprint for how to win hard states without selling your soul.
But the future might not belong to the usual suspects.
The progressive wing, meanwhile, is watching—if not plotting. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez may not run in 2028, but her presence looms like a perfectly composed Instagram caption. She is the conscience of the movement: sharp, unrelenting, and always five news cycles ahead. Pete Buttigieg might take another swing too, if only to remind us that a Rhodes Scholar can still make us feel weirdly emotional about Amtrak.
And then there’s the hopeful fringe: Cory Booker whispering affirmations into the void. Marianne Williamson, possibly reappearing in a puff of lavender oil. Ro Khanna, Jon Ossoff, maybe even someone brand new—Gen Z’s answer to the Obama Effect, now with 70% more anxiety and a ring light.
It sounds messy. And it is. But unlike the other side, which has perfected the art of winning elections by losing its moral compass, Democrats are still the only major party where internal debate isn’t just tolerated—it’s expected. They argue about how to help people. They fight over how to include more, not fewer. They get tangled up in nuance because they care that the knot holds.
Yes, the primary will be a knife fight in a Whole Foods parking lot. Yes, there will be purity tests and hashtag wars and very serious debates over whose plan forgives more student loans with fewer asterisks. Yes, they’ll nearly destroy one another before remembering—at the last possible moment—that the real opponent is the monster behind door number red.
But that’s the burden of being the party that still believes government should do more than tax breaks and trigger warnings. The GOP coronates chaos and rallies behind vengeance in a red tie. Democrats, by contrast, hold auditions for the job of healer-in-chief—with a preference for those who come with receipts, lived experience, and at least one podcast appearance.
Because here’s the thing: Democrats don’t hate each other. They just like options. It’s not dysfunction—it’s democracy, performed live, on a stage made of recycled protest signs and donated folding chairs.
Every candidate has a theory of change. Every voter has a theory of betrayal. And somewhere between the two is a nominee who’ll have to unite TikTok warriors, suburban book clubs, and the labor unions just trying to keep the lights on.
It’s not pretty. But it’s real.
And at a time when one party wants to burn down the house, the other is still arguing about how to insulate the attic. Exhausting? Absolutely. But at least someone’s still reading the blueprint.
Final Thought:
The 2028 Democratic primary won’t be clean, or quiet, or easy. But it will be human. And in a political moment defined by cruelty and noise, that might be the only thing left worth trusting.