Green Shoots in Red Soil: The Texas Primary Race
Graphic by Linden McCarl
Money is the engine of politics. It fuels campaigns and elections, and, by extension, our politicians. Each dollar purchases yet another 15-second campaign advertisement or a canvasser to knock on undecided voters’ doors. Currency and power are synonymous in a game that systematically rewards the highest spender.
The hopeless cycle in which money determines political outcomes seems unbreakable. It appears that private interests will always pull the strings while the public sits and watches puppets play. But for the first time, there may be a glimmer of hope in the recently nominated Democratic candidate for the U.S. Senate: James Talarico.
A Presbyterian and member of the Texas House of Representatives, Talarico leveraged his faith to call for love in politics, stringing together an unlikely coalition of devoted Christians and progressives. In the early hours of Mar. 4, he triumphed by roughly six percentage points over the U.S. Representative Jasmine Crockett, the former public defender known for her quick-witted opposition to the Trump administration.
While both candidates argue for similar liberal policies, they differ noticeably on one issue: messaging surrounding campaign finances.
Big money dominates American elections. In the 2022 midterms, a mere 21 of the largest donor families contributed $783 million, while billionaires covered approximately 15% of all federal financing. Since the Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission Supreme Court ruling—allowing corporations, organizations, and individuals to spend unlimited amounts on campaigns through independent groups known as super PACs—outside spending has skyrocketed. These political action committees can raise limitless funds to support or oppose candidates unofficially, with their contributions now overtaking aggregate small donations ($200 or less per person).
The American Israel Public Affairs Committee PAC alone spent $53 million in 2023 to support pro-Israel candidates. This shift in campaign finance has drawn political attention away from voters and toward those whose wallets are large enough to rise above the nation’s clouded cries.
Perhaps most alarmingly, Elon Musk, the world’s wealthiest man, contributed a quarter of a billion dollars to super PACs in support of Donald Trump’s 2024 presidential run. He similarly threw $20 million towards a judicial race in the state of Wisconsin, albeit unsuccessfully.
Still, the ability of the wealthy elite to influence the highest position in office treads towards a dangerously dystopian path. In this new era of politics, elected officials are teetering close to becoming the equivalent of NASCAR drivers, except their corporate sponsorships are stitched inside the lining of their suits instead of plastered across their race jackets. They race for those who fund them, rather than those who cheer. Only the most informed voters can uncover the source of campaign funding through meticulous research, and even then, the trail can be murky because certain donations to super PACs remain confidential.
Throughout his campaign, Talarico has been an advocate for ending corruption in Washington, promising to ban both super PACs and corporate PACs once elected. Talarico’s own decision to have “never taken a dime” of corporate money since his first run for the Texas State House in 2017 assists in validating his promise. However, while the majority of his funds come from small donations, it is worth noting that Talarico is still backed by one major super PAC, the Lone Star Rising. The non-corporate PAC obtained $6.1 million in funds from Jan. 1 through Feb. 11 to air its own pro-Talarico advertisements.
A skeptic may raise an eyebrow at Talarico’s messaging, given his connection to the Lone Star Rising. Yet he shows integrity beyond most, pledging not to hold any stocks, and pushing further for the outlawing of congressional stock trading to prevent officials from ogling their own bank accounts over those of their constituents. His philosophy aligns with that of economist Richard Salsman, who once said that “the only way to get money out of politics is to get politics out of money-making.”
Removing external incentives to pass laws in favor of the top 1% and corporations is indeed the first step in striking down the Achilles heel of democracy: favoritism towards donors. It recenters the focus back to people who have the most to lose each election—those relying on Medicaid, SNAP, and other forms of social welfare. At least by restricting campaign funds, politicians will have to listen when the people demand bread instead of the billionaires whispering, “let them eat cake.”
Looking ahead to the 2026 midterms, as both parties battle for control over the congressional chambers, restoring faith in their intentions will be critical for winning votes. At a time where 25% of Americans believe neither party represents their interests even somewhat well, transparency could be the starting move to winning favourability—the belief that they stand for the little man. Rejecting corporate money takes off the jacket and reveals the inner lining, signaling dedication to the will of the constituents, not the wealthy.
Does this mean the path is certain? No. Even Talarico, despite his propulsion into stardom, faces a steep challenge to flip a Texas seat that has remained solidly red for almost four decades. But his grassroots campaign, should he fully commit, represents a tentative green light in America’s Great Gatsby story—a hope that politics will once again be about communities, not corporations.
Ella Ricketts ’28 (ericketts@college.harvard.edu) ironically could have made a lot of money on Polymarket had she bet on this race.