Democrats are understandably worried about the state of their political party. When you lose an election to Don Trump and a clown car full of Republican congressional candidates, introspection is warranted.
I for one don’t think the immediate situation Democrats find themselves in calls for panic, however. If only 1% of all voters had flipped from Trump to Kamala Harris, Harris would have won both the electoral and popular votes. It wouldn’t have taken much for that to have happened. Additionally, no matter who’s writing the 2024 post-mortem, most reach the same conclusion: Democrats did not have a good message when it came to inflation and cost of living issues. That suggests Democrats lost either because of a poor communications strategy (which can be fixed relatively easily) or because they were the incumbent party during a time of economic distress (a condition that will not carry over to the next election.) That indicates to me Democrats remain competitive in a closely divided political environment.
Granted, that political environment is always changing, so Democrats absolutely need to keep their eye on demographic trends. I also think Democrats shouldn’t be content with winning elections by narrow margins. Instead, the party needs to be striving toward building a big, durable majority. (I’ve written recently about how Democrats might do that here, here, and here.)
But there is a daunting challenge Democrats need to confront if they hope not only to return to power but to remain competitive over the next few decades: Geography. The problem is the prominent role states play in allocating power within the American political system. By the 2030s, the political map may end up severely restricting Democrats’ prospects.
Let’s start with the electoral college. As you certainly know, the outcomes of presidential elections are not determined by the popular vote. Instead, each state and the District of Columbia are allocated electoral votes in a manner that roughly corresponds with the size of their populations.1 Most states reward all their electoral votes to whichever presidential candidate wins the most votes in their state regardless the margin of victory.2 In other words, it doesn’t matter if a candidate wins Florida by, say, 537 votes (0.01%) or 1.4 million votes (13.1%), the winner takes all of Florida’s electoral votes.
When it comes to winning the electoral college today, it’s a pretty even contest between the parties. The Democrats feel they can reliably bank 226 votes, while Republicans are confident they can win 219 votes. The remaining 93 votes are found in seven toss-up states: The three “Blue Wall” states of Pennsylvania (19 electoral votes), Michigan (15), and Wisconsin (10); and the Sun Belt states of North Carolina (16), Georgia (16), Arizona (11), and Nevada (5). All seven states voted for Trump in 2024.
The good news for Democrats is that if they hold their 219 votes and win the Blue Wall states, they’ll win the electoral college by one vote. The problem, of course, is that the Blue Wall is hardly a wall anymore, and there’s a sense those states—each containing shrinking Rust Belt communities and a sizeable rural population—are slipping away from Democrats. Fortunately, Democrats could still take the White House by winning North Carolina, Georgia, Arizona, and Nevada. Depending on how you look at Nevada, all four are culturally conservative states, but their recent metropolitan growth coupled with large minority populations have opened the door for Democrats there. Except for North Carolina, Biden won each of them in 2020.
Beyond those states, however, the map grows more formidable for Democrats. If you look for openings beyond Arizona, which out of the seven toss-up states delivered the largest margin of victory for Trump in 2024 (5.5%), there aren’t any that seem within reach. The next five closest states that favored Trump—Ohio, Florida, Alaska, Iowa, and Texas—all did so by margins between 11.2% and 13.7%. It’s hard to believe now, but three of those states (Ohio, Florida, and Iowa) voted for Barack Obama twice, with Iowa favoring Obama over McCain by nearly ten points in 2008. If you’re an optimist, you’ll see Iowa’s dramatic swing as proof states can change political preferences pretty quickly; the more pessimistic among us may see that swing as a decisive rejection of the Democratic Party reinforced by the state’s hard shift to the right in state politics.
Republicans, on the other hand, are likely salivating at their pick-up opportunities. If you arbitrarily conclude that any state with less than a double-digit margin of victory is out of reach for the opposite party, then based on the 2024 results, not only are there no red states for Democrats to go on offense in outside the toss-up states, but six “safe” blue states would suddenly be up for grabs: New Hampshire (2. 8% margin of victory for Harris), Minnesota (4.2%), Virginia (5.8%), New Jersey (5.9%), New Mexico (6.0%), and Maine (6.9%). Now I would say that 2024 New Jersey result is a worst-case scenario for Democrats, while Virginia, which only turned blue in 2008, will probably keep trending in that direction. It isn’t hard to imagine Minnesota, however, following in Wisconsin’s footsteps. And while New England has not been receptive to MAGAism, there’s enough of an independent streak in New Hampshire and Maine (which was recently governed by a proto-MAGA governor) to make a favorable Republican outcome conceivable.3
The point is this: It will be much harder for Democrats to expand the electoral college map than it will be for Republicans. If more states beyond the current seven become toss-up states, they will most likely come from Democratic terrain.
To make matters worse for Democrats, it is expected the nation’s blue states will lose electoral votes following the 2030 census. California is on track to lose four votes; New York two; and Oregon, Minnesota, Illinois, and Rhode Island one each. The toss-up states of Wisconsin and Pennsylvania will likely lose one each as well. Meanwhile, Idaho, Utah, Arizona, and North Carolina are projected to gain one vote each, with both Texas and Florida adding four votes each. If those numbers hold, Democrats would not be able to win the presidency by winning every reliably blue state plus the Blue Wall states and Nevada. Due to the seepage of votes in California and New York, nor would they be able to win by swapping the Blue Wall states out for the Sun Belt states. Their only path to the White House would be by cracking both regions. That’s not an impossible task (Biden did it in 2020) but Democrats would need to maximize the full power of their coalition to pull it off. There would be no room for error.
But the electoral college is only part of the problem for Democrats. If a political party wants to enact its agenda in Washington, contrary to Trumpian beliefs, it’s not enough to control the presidency. It also needs to control Congress. Unfortunately, the political map does Democrats no favors here, either. In fact, their prospects may be worse.
Gerrymandering aside, the problem isn’t the House, but rather the Senate. Again, as I’m sure you know, every state is entitled to two senators. That means to hold the majority in the Senate, a political party needs at least fifty-one senators (or fifty so long as the vice president—who casts tie-breaking votes in the Senate—is a member of their party.) On top of that, to break a filibuster and pass a wider range of legislation, a party would need at least sixty senators.
Over the past decade, as polarization has set in and politics has become increasingly nationalized, the party affiliations of the states’ senate delegations have come to reflect the states’ presidential preferences. This wasn’t always the case: States used to send delegations with mixed party affiliations to the Senate, and it was not unheard of to find a Democratic senator or two from a red state, and vice versa. More recently, however, states that favor Democratic presidential candidates send two Democratic senators to Washington, while states that favor Republican presidential candidates send two Republican senators to DC.
Today, if you classify the Senate’s two independent members as Democrats (both Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Angus King of Maine caucus with the Democrats) there are only three states with split Senate delegations: Maine, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. The rest either have two Democratic or two Republican senators. Additionally, the party affiliations of a state’s senate delegation mostly match up with the way that state voted in recent presidential elections. There are a few exceptions to that rule, however, most notably in the toss-up states:
Pennsylvania (Split delegation; voted for Biden in 2020, Democrat John Fetterman in 2022, and Trump and Republican Dave McCormick in 2024)
Michigan (Democratic delegation; voted for Biden and Democrat Gary Peters in 2020, and Trump and Democrat Elissa Slotkin in 2024)
Wisconsin (Split delegation; voted for Republican Ron Johnson in 2022, Trump and Democrat Tammy Baldwin in 2024)
Georgia (Democratic delegation; voted for Biden and Democrats Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff in 2020, Warnock in 2022, and Trump in 2024)
Arizona (Democratic delegation; voted for Biden and Democrat Mark Kelly in 2020, Kelly in 2022, and Trump and Democrat Ruben Gallego in 2024)
Nevada (Democratic delegation; voted for Biden in 2020, Democrat Catherine Cortez Masto in 2022, and Trump and Democrat Jacky Rosen in 2024)
The only other state that defies the partisan president/senator pairing is Maine, where moderate Republican Susan Collins has held on even though the state has voted for the Democratic candidate for president for years.
The good news for Democrats here is that Democratic senate candidates in 2024 won in Michigan, Wisconsin, Arizona, and Nevada even though Trump came out on top in those states, suggesting enough voters either rejected Harris or rallied around Trump to deliver a split outcome. Since neither Harris nor Trump will likely lead their parties’ presidential tickets in 2028,4 Democrats can breathe easier knowing they definitely remain competitive in those states. It’s a little sketchier in Pennsylvania, but you can hardly say they’re out of it there.
But here’s the bad news: If you set the 2024 presidential results as a baseline, then Democrats can only count on winning nineteen states, which would only net them 38 senators if the party affiliation of each state’s senate delegation ultimately shook out to match the party affiliation of the presidential candidate who won the state. At the same time, Republicans would end up with a filibuster-proof 62 senators. That could happen even if the Democratic presidential candidate netted 48.3% of the vote and lost by 1.5%, as Harris did in 2024.
But what if Democrats won the Blue Wall states and eventually took control of those states’ senate delegations? They’d win the White House (barely) and regain the filibuster, but they still wouldn’t be close to a senate majority, as they would only add six senators to their baseline. That would leave them with a total of 44 senators.
But we also know Democrats have fared well in Senate elections in the toss-up Sun Belt states. What if Democratic presidential and senate candidates start running well there? If we exclude North Carolina (which has voted Republican at the presidential level since 2012 and currently has two Republican senators) then Georgia, Arizona, and Nevada would add six more senators to the Democratic caucus, bringing Democrats to a total of 50 senators. That would be a convincing electoral college victory, but that’s a bare minimum for a senate majority. Democrats couldn’t afford to have a stray Republican senator sitting somewhere in a blue state, as Collins is right now, or they would have to hope they somehow pulled off an upset in a red state.
Throw North Carolina into the mix and Democrats rise to 52 senators. That’s still enough to confirm a Supreme Court justice and pass a budget resolution, but they won’t be able to pass any major legislation without getting rid of the filibuster, which they may not want to do given the likelihood they’re going to be spending a lot of time in the minority. (One thing they could do, though: Make the District of Columbia a state as it should be and pad their advantage.)
The basic problem is this: Democrats aren’t competitive in enough states to have a shot at building a durable senate majority. As it is, it will be extremely difficult just reaching 50 votes in the Senate. It’s not enough for Democrats to run even or ahead in the national popular vote. Democrats also need to extend their reach into red states.
So where could Democrats go if they hope to not only win but build out a majority in the Senate? I’ve already identified the next five closest red states in terms of margin of victory: Ohio, Florida, Alaska, Iowa, and Texas. But if you’re using 2024 as a baseline, that means Democrats would need to put states that favored Trump by margins between 11.2% and 13.7% into play. Maybe Alaska and Texas start sliding to the left, but again, Ohio, Florida, and Iowa have swung hard to the right in recent years. Winning those five states over in our current political climate seems like a stretch. Furthermore, if you think it’s possible to steal a senator in a state that generates 12-point margins for Trump, just think how much easier it would be for Republicans to nab a senate seat in a state like New Hampshire, Minnesota, Virginia, New Jersey, New Mexico, or Maine, all of which went for Harris by less than 7%. Heck, there already is a Republican senator in one of those states!
That’s the long-term pinch Democrats find themselves in. The nation’s political geography just isn’t trending in their favor. Democrats can certainly remain competitive, but to do so, they will need to maximize every political advantage they currently possess. Yet even if they do that, it may not be enough to wield power effectively, particularly when it comes to the Senate, which in turn affects their ability to confirm administrative officials and shape the direction of the Supreme Court. Additionally, it would likely take a massive effort to turn the reliably Republican states with the smallest presidential margins of victory into toss-up states; by comparison, it wouldn’t take nearly as much to turn the reliably Democratic states with the smallest presidential margins of victory into electoral battlegrounds.
That said, times change. New issues will arise in response to developments we can’t anticipate. The politics of 2035 will not look like the politics of 2025, just as the politics of 2025 don’t exactly resemble the politics of 2015 or 2005. The entire political landscape could change in a matter of years, and new opportunities for Democrats could open in places no one expects today.
Still, as Democrats contemplate the future of their party, they should be worried less about why they lost in 2024 (an issue that I think will work itself out via the give-and-take of day-to-day politics) and more about what they need to do to set themselves up to succeed in 2032. That’s a project that will take years to implement. I have a few ideas about what they should do, but I’ll save that for a future article.
Signals and Noise
“The Death of Government Expertise” by Tom Nichols (The Atlantic)
“We Are Blundering Our Way Into a Financial Crisis” by Wendy Edelberg and Ben Harris (New York Times)
“Here Are the Digital Clues to What Musk Is Really Up To” by Zeynep Tufekci (New York Times)
“The DOGE Project Will Backfire” by Donald Moynihan (The Atlantic)
“After Ceding Power of the Purse, GOP Lawmakers Beg Trump Team for Funds” by Liz Goodwin (Washington Post)
“With Congress Pliant, an Emboldened Trump Pushes His Business Interests” by Eric Lipton and Maggie Haberman (New York Times)
“The Free-Speech Phonies” by David A. Graham (The Atlantic)
Top 5 Records Music Review: Ranking the 2025 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Nominees
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (RRHoF) is out again with its annual list of nominees for induction, and it’s a major letdown. As usual, there are a few no-brainers as well as a few stinkers, but for the most part, it’s a very meh list full of artists who feel like borderline hall of famers. It feels like the nominating committee is just phoning it in, settling for a handful of names that spring to mind rather than doing their homework by digging into easily accessible lists of snubbed artists to put together a solid ballot of highly-deserving acts.
The RRHoF should know it screwed up when the big stories coming out of its nominee announcement are that a.) few voters have heard of one of the nominees, and b.) for whatever reason, the nominating committee finally decided that this is the year to give voters a chance to enshrine Chubby Checker, who’s been eligible for induction from the start yet has always sort of symbolized the type of artist the RRHoF doesn’t consider for induction. Rather than celebrate the nominees’ careers and fret over how voters could possibly winnow a list of excellent artists down to seven selections, hall-watchers mostly find themselves observing how bizarre this year’s ballot is. There has to be a better way to assemble a list of nominees.
As I’ve done in the past, I’ve broken this year’s list of fourteen nominees into five tiers based on my assessment of their qualifications for induction. This year, however, I needed to carve out a special category for one artist in particular. We’ll start with them.
Personally Unqualified to Assess: I’ve got to be honest with you: I’d never heard of Maná before they were nominated for the RRHoF a couple weeks ago. That’s embarrassing to admit, as I have a massive, carefully-curated collection of rock and roll music; have immersed myself in the history of rock and roll; and obsess over lists of greatest artists and albums and songs of all-time. Perhaps I haven’t explored the international rock scene in enough depth. But at the same time, other rock critics have also admitted Maná is off their radar. Even all-time lists that feature international acts don’t include them. Wikipedia says they’re Latin America’s highest-selling band. Another article I read called them the “Mexican Bon Jovi.” (If they were the Mexican Bruce Springsteen, I might be more enthusiastic.) I’m just not in a position to pass judgment on this band.
Tier 5 (On the Outside Looking In): Bad Company is just about the most generic 1970s classic rock band you can find outside Foreigner, who earned induction as a first-time nominee last year. Perhaps that makes Bad Company’s induction a foregone conclusion, but come on, people. Classic rock stations have long used songs like “Can’t Get Enough” and “Feel Like Makin’ Love” to fill out playlists. If we’re being honest, had those songs had never existed, the history of rock and roll would remain unchanged. This is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, not the Rock and Roll Hall of Existence. I have more respect for the Black Crowes, a 90s throwback to 70s-era Stones and Faces classic rock dashed with traces of southern rock and soul. “Hard to Handle” and “Remedy” genuinely cook. Yet I recently gave their first two albums another listen and was unmoved. They remind me of fellow 90s artist Lenny Kravitz, who was nominated last year but didn’t make the cut: They scream rock star and no doubt have the chops, but their legacy is negligible. Speaking of a screaming rock star, MTV icon Billy Idol was also nominated this year. I’ve developed a greater appreciation for Idol over the past year after rediscovering “Eyes Without a Face”, but he’s probably better known to audiences today for “White Wedding (Pt. 1)” and “Rebel Yell” (or maybe his cover of “Mony Mony”.) Got to admit he has a great voice, but isn’t Idol just MTV’s idea of punk? A shopping mall Sex Pistol? And vaguely fascist? If they wanted to nominate an edgy, punkish 80s act, why not go for the Replacements?
Tier 4 (You Can Make the Case, But…): Chubby Checker, who initiated rock and roll’s biggest dance craze with his cover of Hank Ballard’s “The Twist” in 1960, really wants to be in the RRHoF. In 2001, he argued a statue of himself should be placed in the plaza outside the Hall of Fame in Cleveland and even protested a RRHoF induction ceremony one year over his exclusion from the Hall. Even though he scans as a tame and shallow novelty act, I wouldn’t be outraged if they did finally get around to inducting Checker. His greatest hits album is basically an early 60s party record. “The Twist” was an enormous hit in its day. Rather than put him on the ballot, though, the powers-that-be at the RRHoF should just usher him and any other overlooked oldies act they deem worthy into the Hall via a Musical Excellence award.
Tier 3 (One Foot In, One Foot Out): It’s interesting to compare Billy Idol to Cyndi Lauper, who returns to the ballot after a year off. Both rose to prominence during the early days of MTV and became as famous for their look as their music. Each only had a handful of hits, with Idol’s scattered across about a decade’s worth of albums and Lauper’s (i.e., “Girls Just Want to Have Fun”, “Time After Time”, the underrated “All Through the Night”) drawn almost entirely from one record. The reason I rank Lauper a notch higher, however, is because that one album of hers (She’s So Unusual) is pretty dang good. She’s also managed to become the patron saint of quirky girls and soulful weirdos. While I’m not sure her one big album is enough to get her into the RRHoF, I will confess that I’m rooting for her.
What I wrote about Oasis last year still holds true: “I feel conflicted…about Oasis because the Beatlesesque (What’s the Story) Morning Glory is one of my go-to albums from the 1990s. Some have said the band’s oft boorish behavior makes them a lock for the RRHoF, but the fact remains that their recording legacy—two great albums, followed by nothing memorable—is quite thin (although about as substantial as Guns N’ Roses.) Britpop fans would likely argue Blur should go in first, and while I prefer Oasis, they’re right on the historical merits. More importantly, though, why are we dealing with Oasis when the Smiths still haven’t made it in? (Further listening: “Supersonic”, “Wonderwall”, “Champagne Supernova”).”
Soundgarden has been nominated for a third time, and with no other alternative rock band on the ballot, this may be their year. I’m not a huge fan; their albums are a slog. They’re still important historically because no other Seattle band was as determined to merge punk and metal as they were, and Chris Cornell was a truly soulful singer. (See the classic “Black Hole Sun”.) The RRHoF is really missing an opportunity here, though, because if they wanted to induct a vintage Seattle-area alternative band, why not push Bikini Kill, the feminist punk band at the forefront of the riot grrrl movement?
Two years ago I included the White Stripes in this tier. I considered moving them up a notch, but a recent run through their catalog left me underwhelmed. One can make the argument that along with Coldplay (not nominated yet again!) the White Stripes are the iconic rock band of the 00s. Yet they also feel like the band a decade desperate for an iconic rock band glommed onto as their band. Here’s what I wrote in 2023: “What people appreciated about the band then was that they knew their roots: The blues, garage rock, punk. But did that lead the Stripes to anything new? Their formalism and carefully curated image cultivated intrigue; now it seems stagey and pretentious.” (Further listening: “Fell In Love With a Girl” and “Seven Nation Army”)
The most musically accomplished nominee this year is the 90s jam band Phish. I’ve never gotten into the band, but their fanbase rivals that of the Dave Matthews Band and the Grateful Dead. Their only drawback is that they’ve never entered the public consciousness the way those other two bands have. Still, it’s hard to sleep on a hard-working group of this caliber. (Further listening: “Divided Sky”, “You Enjoy Myself”)
A decent case can be made for Joe Cocker, the gravelly-voiced English pub singer who seemed to channel Ray Charles on soulful covers of songs like the Beatles’ “With a Little Help from My Friends” (often remembered as the theme song to The Wonder Years) and Traffic’s “Feelin’ Alright”. Supported by a crack live band, Cocker performed as if possessed by a primal rock and roll spirit that found in Cocker a body it could contort for its own musical ends. (When Cocker was the musical guest on Saturday Night Live in 1976, he allowed John Belushi to share the stage and imitate him during a performance of “Feelin’ Alright”.) Cocker performed at Woodstock and released a major live album, Mad Dogs and Englishmen, in 1970. Due to his authenticity as a singer, Cocker slots in nicely on classic rock radio. A great interpreter of songs, the only question is if there is enough to his body of work to merit induction.
Tier 2 (In the Queue) None.
Tier 1 (Sure-Fire Hall of Famers) I’ve written way more about Mariah Carey than I ever expected to in this Substack, so the RRHoF could do me a huge favor and just finally induct her. She was the biggest pop star of the 1990s and the most influential female vocalist of her era. Some will say she’s too pop, but so was Elvis Presley, the Beatles, Elton John, Michael Jackson, and Madonna, and they’re all in. She’s got the credentials. It’s time for Mariah to get her roses. (Further listening: “Emotions”, “Fantasy” remix ft. O.D.B., “We Belong Together”)
It’s good to see the RRHoF has renominated Joy Division/New Order, who are close to being the most influential act yet to earn induction. Here’s what I wrote about the group two years ago: “Formed in 1976 in Manchester, England, after guitarist/keyboardist Bernard Sumner and bassist Peter Hook attended a Sex Pistols concert, Joy Division quickly moved on from punk to become one of the most important post-punk bands to emerge from the UK. Their throbbing bass lines, jagged guitar parts, and crooned songs of melancholy and despair distinguished them from angry punk bands and set the stage for goth rock (see “She’s Lost Control”). Joy Division soon began experimenting with synthesizers (see “Love Will Tear Us Apart”) but before embarking on a US tour, lead singer Ian Curtis committed suicide. Rather than break-up, the band renamed themselves New Order and began creating early synthpop and electronica tracks, including “Blue Monday”, the best-selling 12-inch single of all-time and a classic club track. Their influence stretches to the Cure, Depeche Mode, U2, the Smiths, Smashing Pumpkins, Radiohead, and Interpol. There are entire musical cityscapes built on the foundations laid down by Joy Division and New Order.”
Finally, the one absolute lock this year should be OutKast, the seminal southern rap group. Throughout the 90s, the hip-hop world revolved around the twin suns of New York City and Los Angeles. Today, the center of the hip-hop universe is Atlanta, thanks in no small part to OutKast. It’s been nearly 20 years since Andre 3000 and Big Boi recorded together, so it’s easy to forget both the popular and critical acclaim the duo received at the turn of the millennium. Their albums were gritty yet wildly eclectic and helped push rap beyond the formulaic tropes of gangsta rap. On records like Aquemini, Stankonia, and SpeakerBoxxx/The Love Below, they placed themselves and hip-hop in the same lineage as Stevie Wonder and Prince. (Further listening: “SpottieOttieDopaliscious”, “B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad)”, “Ms. Jackson” [see Exit Music], “Hey Ya!”)
RRHoF voters can vote for up to seven nominees, but if I had a ballot this year, I would only check the box next to three names: Mariah Carey, Joy Division/New Order, and OutKast. I might consider a few others. Given the dearth of female nominees, I could definitely see myself supporting Cyndi Lauper. Maybe I’m being too hard on the White Stripes. I may have even talked myself into supporting Joe Cocker. But I think I’d stick to my guns: By signaling that I only think three artists on the ballot are clearly deserving of induction, I would hope the RRHoF would take the hint and up the caliber of nominees next year.
Exit Music: “Ms. Jackson” by OutKast (2000, Stankonia)
The number of electoral votes a state receives is equal to the number of representatives and senators it is entitled to in Congress. The District of Columbia receives as many electors as it would be entitled to if it were a state, although it cannot have more electoral votes than the state with the fewest electoral votes.
Nebraska and Maine reward two electoral votes to the state-wide winner and assign the remaining electoral votes to the candidates who prevail in each of the states’ congressional districts.
If Democrats want to put a positive spin on this, they could flash back to 2020, when Florida (3.4%), Texas (5.6%), Ohio (8.0%), and Iowa (8.2%) all delivered margins of victory under 10% for Trump. The disconcerting trend for Democrats, however, is that with the possible exception of Texas, all those states have been sliding to the Right over the past 10-15 years.
I assume Democrats wouldn’t renominate Harris, but you never know. As for Trump, well, he keeps hinting he plans on bulldozing the 22nd Amendment, so maybe he will run for president again. If he does, we’ve probably reached the point where we’ve got more problems than the constitutionality of a Trump third term. My guess, though, is that if Don Trump does run for president in 2028, it will be Jr. rather than Sr.