Jack Schlossberg, the 33-year-old grandson of John F. Kennedy, told a CBS New York interviewer that he "deeply, deeply" respects President Trump's ability to dominate public conversation, a striking concession from a Democrat running for Congress in one of the most liberal districts in the country.
Schlossberg, who is seeking the New York 12th Congressional District seat vacated by longtime Rep. Jerrold Nadler, made the comments during a recent interview with CBS New York's Marcia Kramer. When Kramer asked him to compare his own social media presence to the president's, Schlossberg did not hedge.
The New York Post reported Schlossberg's full remarks, which went well beyond the usual Democratic boilerplate about Trump's media skills:
"I don't admire President Trump for anything, but I deeply, deeply respect and recognize his genius in the way that he programs all of what we talk about every day."
He went further. "He programs our minds," Schlossberg said. "He says things, and we end up repeating them all day long. He's living in all of our heads right now."
What made the remarks notable was not just the word "genius", a term few Democratic candidates would risk attaching to the sitting president, but the advice Schlossberg drew from it. He urged his own party to take "a page out of the president's book" and compete more aggressively in shaping national narratives.
"We should use our humor, our intellect. We should not be afraid to take risks. It is the one way to wield power now, and we don't really have an option not to compete out there."
In other words, Schlossberg's message to Democrats was blunt: Trump has figured out how to set the terms of every public debate, and the opposition has not. That is a remarkable admission from a Kennedy heir running in Manhattan.
It is also an admission that fits a pattern. Across the Democratic caucus, a small but growing number of elected officials have broken from party orthodoxy in ways that acknowledge Trump's political strength, or at least concede that reflexive opposition is not working. John Fetterman's break with Democrats has drawn the most attention, but the impulse is wider than one senator.
Schlossberg's campaign has not been a smooth ride. Nadler announced plans to retire last September, opening a seat that Democrats have held for decades. Schlossberg jumped in with a November campaign launch, but almost immediately, problems surfaced.
A New York Times profile described by the Post as "blistering" cited unnamed campaign sources who alleged that Schlossberg had bailed on interviews with donors and media just hours into his campaign launch. Those same sources raised broader concerns about his fitness for office.
The Post noted that his run has been "plagued by accusations" and referenced claims that Schlossberg "regularly behaved erratically." The "nepo baby" label has followed him, too, a tag that stings more when the family name is Kennedy and the district is one of the most politically sophisticated in the nation.
Schlossberg pushed back on those characterizations in his CBS New York interview, casting himself as a transparent, hard-working candidate who welcomes scrutiny.
"The other candidates I'm running against, they want you to look away. I want you to look at everything that I'm doing because I'm proud of it and thinking about it, and I'm working 24/7."
He also stressed the importance of being "authentic to who you are and letting people into your world." Whether voters in the 12th District buy that framing remains an open question.
Put aside the family pedigree and the campaign drama for a moment. The most interesting thing about Schlossberg's remarks is what they reveal about the current state of the Democratic Party's internal conversation.
When a candidate from the most famous family in modern Democratic politics, the son of former U.S. ambassador Caroline Kennedy, the grandson of JFK himself, tells a reporter that the Republican president is a "genius" who "programs our minds," it is not a throwaway compliment. It is a concession that the other side is winning the information war.
That concession has practical implications. Fetterman's deciding vote to preserve Trump's authority on Iran showed that some Democrats are willing to cross the aisle on substance, not just messaging. Schlossberg's comments suggest the problem runs even deeper, that Democrats privately recognize Trump's dominance over the national conversation but have no coherent strategy to counter it.
Schlossberg's prescription, humor, intellect, risk-taking, sounds pleasant enough. But it also sounds like a candidate who has spent more time diagnosing the problem than solving it.
Meanwhile, the broader political landscape continues to shift. A Republican recently flipped a city council seat in a Texas county Kamala Harris carried, a reminder that the realignment is not confined to cable news debates. It is showing up in local races, in districts Democrats once took for granted.
Schlossberg's bet is that voters want a candidate who is willing to say things other Democrats will not, including giving Trump credit for his ability to shape public discourse. That bet carries real risk in a Democratic primary, where praising the president in any terms is unlikely to win applause from the activist base.
But the deeper question is whether Schlossberg's candor is a political strategy or a genuine break with the party's reflexive posture. His insistence that Democrats should learn from Trump's playbook sits uneasily alongside a campaign that has struggled with basic execution, missed meetings, donor concerns, and a Times profile that left allies worried.
The Democratic Party's internal tensions are not limited to one congressional race in Manhattan. Kamala Harris has surfaced as a possible write-in candidate for California governor, a sign that the party's bench and its strategy remain unsettled heading into the next election cycle.
Schlossberg, for his part, seems to understand one thing clearly: Trump has mastered the art of commanding attention, and Democrats have not figured out how to compete on those terms. Whether that insight translates into votes in the 12th District is another matter entirely.
When even the Kennedys are calling the other side's leader a genius, the party's problem is no longer a messaging gap. It is a concession.
