Greg Gutfeld didn’t soft-pedal his reaction on Fox’s panel after new excerpts surfaced from Kamala Harris’ memoir. From a Republican perspective, the moment felt like another example of political calculus trumping bold leadership. Gutfeld’s tone was blunt, and his point was straightforward: talk is cheap without the courage to follow through.
Excerpts from Harris’ book explain why Pete Buttigieg was reportedly considered and then passed over for the 2024 ticket. The media highlights her concern that putting a Black woman on the ticket with a gay man would have been “too big of a risk.” That sentence alone exposes how identity politics can become an excuse to avoid taking real chances.
Gutfeld seized on that line during a segment, and his frustration was clear when he said, “I love this story.” He dug into the contradiction of someone who claims to seek representation but then balks at the hard choice that would actually demonstrate it. For many conservatives, this reads as the same old liberal calculus: prioritize optics and fallback messaging over actual, risky leadership.
He continued with a withering take on political credit-taking: “I’m so confused. She said she wanted a gay man. Isn’t that why she picked [Democrat Minnesota Gov. Tim] Walz? Look, here’s the deal. I can’t stand people who say they almost did something, but they didn’t because it was hard. And they still expect some credit for almost doing it. It doesn’t count,” Gutfeld said. That line landed because it cuts to the heart of political theater versus political action.
Gutfeld went further: “The whole point of gaining respect from people is doing the thing that is hard or doing the thing that carries risk. The fact that you almost did it puts us all on the same plane.” Republicans will read that as a warning: half-measures leave you with no credibility, only talking points. Conservatives prefer leaders who take risks, not those who weigh focus groups and run from consequences.
He mocked the idea of transactional identity politics with an acidic observation: “We almost did it too. I almost picked Mayor Pete, but I didn’t,” Gutfeld added. “Anyway, it’s funny how DEI hires refuse to pay it forward. Imagine if Joe Biden felt the same way about Kamala, that Kamala felt about Mayor Pete. He wouldn’t have picked her. She wouldn’t have been the VP. She wouldn’t have run for president. Then finally she’s running for president. And she’s like, ‘Oh, a gay man? Hell no, I wanna win.’ I’m gonna rely on that old meritocracy thing.”
Those remarks feed into a larger debate about whether modern Democrats actually value merit or just manage optics. Conservatives argue that the party has become so focused on identity categories that it undermines the very people it claims to help. The suspicion is that when the stakes get real, the party pivots to the safest political choice rather than the principled one.
The memoir material Harris reportedly shared included a line that reads exactly as she wrote about Buttigieg: “would have been an ideal partner—if I were a straight white man.” That quote was used to justify her concern that she was asking too much of the electorate at once. From a Republican angle, it confirms how identity considerations drive decisions in ways that shortchange voters.
Harris reportedly added, “But we were already asking a lot of America: to accept a woman, a Black woman, a Black woman married to a Jewish man. Part of me wanted to say, ‘Screw it, let’s just do it.’ But knowing what was at stake, it was too big of a risk.” That passage will be read by skeptics as an admission that politics is often about risk avoidance more than principle. For conservatives, the takeaway is that leadership should take risks and trust voters, not manage them like a polling experiment.
There’s also a historical angle Republicans point to: risk-taking can reshape politics and public life, while hedging reinforces the status quo. The conservative case is that the GOP should continue to promote a vision of merit and resilience rather than identity-based calculations. That narrative frames Gutfeld’s critique as more than cable heat; it’s a political philosophy clash.
The backdrop to this debate includes Joe Biden’s earlier promises about representation, which Harris’s memoir references. During his 2020 run Biden said, “Secondly, if I’m elected president, my cabinet, my administration will look like the country. And I commit that I will, in fact, appoint a – I’ll pick a woman to be vice president. There are a number of women who are qualified to be president tomorrow. I would pick a woman to be my vice president.” Those words set expectations that later became political calculations.
The timeline moved fast: Biden withdrew from the 2024 race, endorsed Harris, and she selected Tim Walz as running mate weeks later. That choice sparked conversation among pundits about who was considered and who wasn’t, and why. Republicans use that moment to argue Democrats prioritized safer choices and coalition management over boldness.
Critics on the right say this episode exposes a common Democratic pattern: promising inclusion while practicing cautious politics. They see a party that talks about representation but balks when real risk and accountability are required. For conservatives, that confirms a broader critique that the left’s rhetoric often masks a preference for political expediency.
Meanwhile, the television moment gave commentators like Gutfeld the chance to turn a memoir excerpt into a lesson on leadership and conviction. His message was simple and resonant for a Republican audience: talk less about diversity when it’s convenient, and more about doing the hard thing when it counts. Whether you agree or not, the pushback is likely to stick with voters who value straightforwardness.
At the end of the day, this story is less about one campaign choice and more about what voters expect from leaders. Conservatives will keep pushing the case that genuine leadership requires risk, not curated narratives. Gutfeld’s remarks crystallize that critique, and they’ll be replayed as a reminder that actions matter more than intentions.
WATCH:
!function(r,u,m,b,l,e){r._Rumble=b,r[b]||(r[b]=function(){(r[b]._=r[b]._||[]).push(arguments);if(r[b]._.length==1){l=u.createElement(m),e=u.getElementsByTagName(m)[0],l.async=1,l.src=”https://rumble.com/embedJS/ukxsg”+(arguments[1].video?’.’+arguments[1].video:”)+”/?url=”+encodeURIComponent(location.href)+”&args=”+encodeURIComponent(JSON.stringify([].slice.apply(arguments))),e.parentNode.insertBefore(l,e)}})}(window, document, “script”, “Rumble”);
Rumble(“play”, {“video”:”v6wyrlq”,”div”:”rumble_v6wyrlq”});
For context, this public debate over internal deliberations in a presidential campaign shows how every choice can become a test of principle. Republicans will continue to frame these moments as failures of nerve on the left. The larger conversation for voters is whether America wants leaders who calculate or leaders who lead.
For follow-up, watch the segment and read the memoir excerpts yourself to decide which approach to leadership you prefer: cautious management or risky conviction. The political argument is clear: actions over statements win trust, and conservatives will keep stressing that message to skeptical voters.
