Amidst the early 2028 Democratic presidential buzz, I offered some historical context at New York about the precocity of two possible candidates:
There’s plenty of talk in Democratic circles about the need for “generational change,” which isn’t surprising given the proximate end of a political era dominated by the likes of Donald Trump (born in 1946), Joe Biden (1942), Bernie Sanders (1941), Chuck Schumer (1950), Mitch McConnell (1942), and Nancy Pelosi (1940). By the same token, it wouldn’t require anyone particularly immature to show a younger face for party leadership than we’ve seen for a while. But while some have discussed placing a ceiling on the age of people qualified to serve in high office, how about a floor? Yes, there are constitutional minimums for federal office (you must be 25 to serve in the House, 30 to serve in the Senate, and 35 to become president), set when life expectancies were significantly shorter. But how about more informal expectations of when politicians are mature enough to become, say, leader of the free world?
This isn’t just an abstract issue. Either of two potential 2028 presidential candidates, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (born in 1989) and Jon Ossoff (1987), would, if elected that year, become the youngest chief executive in U.S. history. The current record is held by Theodore Roosevelt, who was elevated to the presidency at the age of 42 when William McKinley was assassinated in 1901. The youngest man to be elected to the presidency was John F. Kennedy, who was 43 when he was inaugurated after winning the 1960 election. We have had some relatively young recent presidents: Bill Clinton was the third-youngest to take office at 46, and Barack Obama was fifth at 47. But since then, the trend has obviously gone sharply in the other direction. Overall, the median age of presidents upon taking office is 55.
There have certainly been presidential candidates as young as AOC and Ossoff. We all remember Pete Buttigieg running credibly for president in 2000; he had just turned 38 when he basically tied Bernie Sanders for top spot in the Iowa caucuses that year. But there have been youngsters who got farther down the road to the White House than Mayor Pete. When William Jennings Bryan won his first of three presidential nominations in 1896, he was 36 years old. General George B. McClellan won the Democratic presidential nomination to face Abraham Lincoln in 1864 at the age of 37. Four years earlier, John C. Breckinridge won the presidential nomination of the pro-southern wing of a divided Democratic Party at the age of 39. Maybe Democrats really are the perpetual party of youth.
So what’s the hurry? Becoming a political has-been in your late 30s or early 40s is pretty sad. It’s possible, of course, that 2028 could become a now-or-never moment for a young candidate. That could be the case, in fact, for the GOP front-runner, Vice-President J.D. Vance, who, if elected in 2028, would displace Clinton as the third-youngest president. It’s unlikely that Vance will ever have a better chance to become president of the United States than as Trump’s designated successor (if that’s what he turns out to be). Perhaps it’s a matter of taste, but Vance doesn’t strike me as someone who will grow on us all with perpetual exposure. But AOC and Ossoff might mellow with a bit of age and become familiar yet still exciting possibilities.



Jacinda Adern was “leader of the free world” from 37 to 40 and she did fine.