Former Vice President Kamala Harris has revealed that her “first choice” for running mate in the 2024 election was Pete Buttigieg, not Tim Walz, but she ultimately passed on him out of concern that America “wasn’t ready.”
The stunning admission appears in Harris’s forthcoming book 107 Days, an excerpt of which was obtained by The Atlantic. In it, Harris describes the painful calculations that went into selecting Minnesota Governor Tim Walz as her vice-presidential partner in what became a losing campaign against Donald Trump.
“Buttigieg would have been an ideal partner — if I were a straight white man,” Harris wrote. “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.”

The former transportation secretary, she said, was not only a personal favorite but topped her shortlist of eight contenders. Harris praised him as “a sincere public servant with the rare talent of being able to frame liberal arguments in a way that makes it possible for conservatives to hear them.”
Still, Harris concluded that adding Buttigieg, an openly gay man married to Chasten Buttigieg, would be politically untenable. “And I think Pete also knew that — to our mutual sadness,” she wrote.
Harris ultimately chose Walz, citing his record as a popular governor and his appeal to Midwestern voters. But the decision, she acknowledged, did not prevent disaster at the polls. The Harris-Walz ticket lost the Electoral College, the popular vote, and every major swing state to Trump.
In the book, Harris reflected on the structural barriers she believes defined the race. “When we have to weigh whether Americans can accept a ticket led by a Black woman married to a Jewish man, and whether they can also accept a gay vice president, that tells us something about where we are as a country,” she argued.

The revelations are likely to reignite debate within the Democratic Party, particularly as Buttigieg emerges as an early favorite for 2028. According to a June Emerson College survey, Buttigieg led a hypothetical Democratic primary field with 16 percent, followed by Harris at 13 percent, California Gov. Gavin Newsom at 12 percent, and Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez each at 7 percent.
Harris wrote warmly about her relationship with Buttigieg and his family. “I love Pete. I love working with Pete. He and his husband, Chasten, are friends,” she said. But her political instincts, shaped by years of national campaigns, told her the country was not yet ready to embrace such a groundbreaking ticket.
Critics are already seizing on the remarks. Some progressives argue Harris underestimated the public’s willingness to back a diverse ticket and missed an opportunity to inspire younger voters. Moderates counter that her caution reflected a brutal political reality in a polarized electorate.
The Biden-era transportation secretary rose to prominence during the 2020 Democratic primaries, where his intelligence and rhetorical skill made him a star despite his eventual loss. Since then, he has remained one of the party’s most visible figures, particularly after his handling of supply-chain crises and infrastructure policy.

Harris, by contrast, has struggled to maintain her footing after her electoral defeat. While still a powerful figure in Democratic politics, her book appears designed to reshape her legacy, portraying her as a leader who balanced idealism with pragmatism.
“Part of leadership is knowing when to take the leap and when to protect the ground you’ve already gained,” Harris wrote. “In 2024, I made the decision I thought gave us the best chance. But I’ll always wonder if the bolder choice would have changed history.”
With the 2028 race already taking shape, Harris’s candid admission may come to define both her legacy and Buttigieg’s momentum. What she saw as a risk, Democratic voters may now see as a promise long deferred.
