Should I Run for President?

Before anyone panics, let me say this clearly at the top:
I am not announcing a presidential run.

What I am doing is asking a question—publicly and honestly. Is it possible? How would people feel about it? And more importantly, how would the general public react to someone like me, with ideas like mine, entering the arena?

Because if I ever did run, it probably wouldn’t be to “win” in the traditional sense. It would be as a protest candidate—a disruption, a pressure point, a reminder that politics doesn’t have to be as sterile, cynical, or soul-dead as it’s become.

I also want to be upfront: I am autistic. I am capable, thoughtful, and serious—but I’m not naïve. I know that in a system dominated by money, branding, and media spectacle, someone like me could easily be flattened by a larger, more polished candidate. That reality is part of why this is a question, not a declaration.

So think of this as a thought experiment—and a statement of values.

What I Believe

I describe myself as a progressive libertarian.

That means I believe in social equality and personal freedom at the same time. Not one at the expense of the other. I believe in the power of ordinary people, not entrenched institutions. I believe peace is not naïve—it’s necessary. I am anti-war, not just rhetorically, but structurally. Endless war corrodes democracy, culture, and the human soul.

I am:

Anti-establishment

Pro-human

Pro-health

Anti-war

Skeptical of corporate power and bureaucratic power alike

I’m against poisoning ourselves for profit—whether that’s microplastics in our food, unnecessary chemicals in our water, or an economic system that treats human beings as disposable inputs.

I don’t trust systems that tell us they’re protecting us while quietly stripping us of autonomy.

Why I Wouldn’t Run as a “Pure” Third Party (At First)

In a perfect world, I’d run as a Libertarian, an Independent, or something entirely new. In the real world, I understand the math.

If you want to reach people, you need a platform that actually exists. That means a major party—at least initially. Realistically, that would be the Democratic Party, not because I agree with it wholesale, but because it’s the only existing structure where a candidate like me could plausibly gain oxygen.

But I wouldn’t run as a standard Democrat.

I’d run inside the party like a third party.

No surrendering values. No consultant-sanitized messaging. If I ever had a vice president, I’d seriously consider someone independent, libertarian, or politically unconventional. Coalition over conformity.

And yes—I’d be willing to work with conservatives too. I don’t share much ideologically with modern conservatism, but I do believe this: we are all Americans, and we probably have more in common than we’re allowed to admit.

The Problem With “Safe” Politics

One of the reasons I’m even asking this question is because I’ve watched what happens when people put their faith in “safe,” “boring,” “responsible” politicians.

I grew up in the shadow of 9/11—not old enough to fully understand the event itself, but absolutely old enough to live through the aftermath. Constant fear. War as background noise. Militarism normalized. Surveillance justified. Childhood shaped by anxiety and authority.

When Barack Obama ran, he felt like a breath of fresh air. To many of us, he felt like an exit ramp from that era. And I truly believed—like millions of others—that he would be a great president.

Instead, what we got was something more unsettling: a smoother, more polite version of the same machine.

Drone warfare expanded. Wars continued. Surveillance remained. Empire didn’t end—it got better branding.

This isn’t about demonizing one person. It’s about recognizing a pattern:
When “good,” progressive leaders manage systems of massive power, they often legitimize those systems instead of dismantling them.

That’s more dangerous than open brutality, because resistance dissolves.

Why I Don’t Believe Political Correctness Will Save Us

I believe in kindness. I believe in dignity. I believe in treating people as humans.

What I don’t believe in is political correctness as a governing philosophy.

We’ve replaced moral courage with linguistic compliance. And this isn’t just a problem on the left or the right—it’s everywhere.

The left calls it political correctness.
The right calls it MAGA.

Different aesthetics. Same impulse.

Both sides enforce their own speech codes, taboos, and orthodoxies. Both punish deviation. Both mistake conformity for virtue.

If we want a healthier culture, we have to bring back weird.

Weird is where creativity lives. Weird is where dissent survives. Weird is where real progress comes from. A democracy that cannot tolerate weirdness is already decaying.

So… Should I Run?

That’s the real question.

Not “Can I win?”
Not “Would I fit in?”

But:

Would a candidate like me expand the conversation?

Would it remind people that politics doesn’t have to be managed by the same professional class forever?

Would it expose how narrow our choices really are?

If I ever ran, it wouldn’t be because I think I’m a savior. It would be because this system desperately needs disruption from people who don’t want to rule—it needs people who want to give power back.

So I’ll leave it there.

I’m not announcing a campaign.
I’m asking a question.

How would you feel if someone like me ran for president?
And how do you think America would respond?