Nancy Pelosi will endorse Jack Schlossberg — the 33-year-old grandson of John F. Kennedy — in his bid to win New York's 12th Congressional District, according to a report first viewed by The New York Times. The former House Speaker, who is retiring from Congress next January, plans to make her support official on Sunday.

According to the Daily Mail, Schlossberg, a social media personality with close to 900,000 followers on TikTok and no background in public service, is campaigning to succeed 78-year-old Jerry Nadler. Nadler is retiring after 34 years representing what’s considered the wealthiest district in New York, covering parts of Manhattan including Midtown, the Upper East Side, and the Upper West Side.

The endorsement pairs two figures who represent everything wrong with the modern Democratic Party: a permanent political class that treats congressional seats like family heirlooms, and a new generation that confuses Instagram virality with qualifications for governance.

The Pelosi Stamp

Pelosi framed the endorsement in her trademark language of urgency. Per a statement reported by The New York Times, she said Schlossberg's "candidacy will help Democrats win nationwide." She added: "This moment calls for leaders who understand the stakes and how to deliver for the people they serve."

The New York Post reported that Pelosi also praised Schlossberg's "passion for solving problems — particularly his ability to engage and inspire young people" and pointed to what she called "incredible excitement around his candidacy."

Excitement about what, exactly? Schlossberg announced his candidacy in November. He has no legislative record. No policy portfolio. No time in any government role at any level. What he does have is a last name, a jaw line, and content that goes viral — he gained fame posting shirtless photos, ballet clips, and videos of himself hoverboarding while reading poetry.

That, apparently, is what qualifies as "understanding the stakes" in Pelosi's Democratic Party.

Even Nadler Won't Bite

The most revealing detail in this story isn't the endorsement. It's who declined to give one. Jerry Nadler — the man whose seat Schlossberg wants — refused to back the Kennedy heir. In an interview with CNN, Nadler explained his standard plainly:

"There's nothing particularly good or bad about a Kennedy holding my seat. But the Kennedy, unlike Schlossberg, should be somebody with a record of public service, a record of public accomplishment, and he doesn't have one."

That's not a political rival talking. That's the retiring incumbent — a Democrat in good standing — looking at the man Pelosi is anointing and saying: he hasn't earned this. When a 34-year Democratic congressman won't vouch for your readiness, the endorsement of an 85-year-old former Speaker doesn't fill the gap. It widens it.

The Name Is the Platform

Schlossberg is described as JFK's first direct descendant to run for elected office. Six members of the extended Kennedy family have served in Congress before him — JFK, RFK, Ted Kennedy, Joseph P. Kennedy II, Patrick J. Kennedy, and Joseph P. Kennedy III. The dynasty runs deep. But every one of those figures built a political identity before asking voters for a seat.

Schlossberg's political identity, so far, consists of social media posts and rhetorical grenades. He previously called his own cousin, Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a "rabid dog." Earlier this month, he posted on X about Trump and the Kennedy Center:

"Trump can take the Kennedy Center for himself. He can change the name, shut the doors, and demolish the building."

He followed that with:

"He can try to kill JFK. But JFK is kept alive by us now rising up to remove Donald Trump, bring him to justice, and restore the freedoms generations fought for."

This is not serious political rhetoric. It's the kind of performative outrage that plays well on platforms where he commands more than 179,000 followers on X and 827,000 on Instagram — but that tells voters nothing about how he'd handle a committee hearing, a floor vote, or a constituent crisis.

Schlossberg's own words tell the story

When asked about his candidacy by The New York Times in November, Schlossberg said:

"I think that this district needs somebody who knows how to fight effectively in this new political era that we're living in."

Fighting effectively. In the new political era. It's the kind of sentence that sounds like it means something until you ask: fight how? With what experience? On what issues? The answer, as far as the public record shows, is TikTok videos and family mythology.

Schlossberg called Pelosi "a hero" of his and described her endorsement as "a shot of adrenaline" — then compared it to the rush he felt when Pelosi ripped up the president's State of the Union address:

"A lot like what I felt when she ripped up the president's State of the Union last term."

That moment — a sitting Speaker tearing up an official government document on live television — is what energizes him. Not policy. Not legislation. Not service. A stunt.

A Crowded Lane, a Cleared Path

Schlossberg isn't running unopposed. The Democratic primary includes Alex Bores, a state Assembly member; Jami Floyd, a journalist and commentator; George Conway, the Republican-turned-Democrat attorney and former husband of Trump adviser Kellyanne Conway; and Cameron Kasky, the Parkland shooting survivor who would reportedly become one of the youngest members of Congress if elected.

But Pelosi's endorsement isn't designed to let voters decide. It's designed to clear the field. In a deep-blue Manhattan district where the Democratic primary is the only election that matters, an endorsement from the former Speaker is a fundraising multiplier and a signal to the donor class: this is the one.

The Democratic Party spent years lecturing the country about meritocracy, equity, and earned opportunity. Now its most prominent living leader is telling Manhattan voters that a 33-year-old with no résumé beyond his last name and his follower count is the man for the moment.

Dynasty Over Substance

This is what the modern left has become. Not a party of ideas, but a party of brands. The Kennedy name still carries cultural electricity on the Upper West Side, and Pelosi — who knows more about power mechanics than perhaps anyone alive in Democratic politics — is placing her bet on nostalgia, not competence.

Nadler, for all his faults, at least had the honesty to say the obvious: the name isn't enough. But honesty doesn't drive Democratic primaries in Manhattan. Name recognition does. Social media heat does. And an 85-year-old kingmaker who still knows how to pull the levers — she does most of all.

Somewhere in that district, a voter will walk into a booth and choose a congressman based on who his grandfather was sixty years ago. The Democratic Party isn't just comfortable with that. They're banking on it.