The Invisible Storm
Hello, I hope that your summer is going great!
Last week, I wrote that I expected Donald Trump to declare for 2024 by October. News came out that he is planning a September announcement. Time will tell, but I confess; I’d like to be wrong.
This week on the podcast I interview Jason Kander, author of the new bestseller “The Invisible Storm: a Soldier’s Memoir of Politics and PTSD.” Jason was the youngest statewide elected official in the country at one point as the Secretary of State of Missouri. He then ran for Senate and outperformed Hillary Clinton by 16 points in his homestate. You might remember his campaign ad in which he takes apart a rifle blindfolded.
He learned how to do that while serving as an army captain in Afghanistan. He details his tour in his new book, including some harrowing stories about friends being killed, pulling a gun on a cab driver who took him on a circuitous route, nearly shooting a child who had jumped onto his military vehicle, and being in dozens of conversations with unsavory characters who could potentially become hostile. These experiences left Jason with post-traumatic stress disorder, which took him years to recognize and grapple with.
His PTSD started to spill over into his family life after his return. Night terrors infected his wife’s mental state. He threw himself into his work in part to distract and ease his mind. His work became politics, which was a childhood ambition. He ran for office and won twice, lost a narrow Senate race and was considered a potential presidential candidate in 2020.
I remember announcing my presidential run in 2018, which didn’t get much notice at the time – if you’re OG YangGang, thank you! – and hearing about Jason as one of the other candidates in the field. He had started a voting rights org with operations in Iowa and New Hampshire.
Jason then made some more history – he announced that he had PTSD, and was withdrawing from politics to seek treatment.
He didn’t have to share this news. Political figures pull back all the time for myriad reasons. But Jason decided to share the truth, in part because he thought it might help others.
I’m sure that it has. Hundreds of people reached out to Jason to recount their own struggles with mental health, veterans and civilians alike. Friends of Jason’s from the military told him that they sought treatment due to his example. Jason now works for Veterans Community Project, an org that helps military veterans gain camaraderie and access tailored support that is expanding quickly.
It’s no exaggeration to say that Jason’s public decision has saved lives and done more good than the vast majority of presidential campaigns. Jason also saved lives by getting 1,800 Afghans out of the country during the Taliban takeover.
It was heartening to interview Jason this week – you can find the convo here and pick up his book here. It’s a universal story about trauma and family that most everyone would enjoy and get a lot out of.
I took a number of lessons from Jason: first, take care of yourself. I’ve pushed myself a number of times over the last number of years because I felt like my work was super-important. Alleviate poverty. Help millions of people. Reform America’s broken political system.
But you’re not good for anyone if you are breaking down internally or your family is on the brink. External validation doesn’t quiet the storm within; sometimes it makes it worse. Mind yourself and your family, which are often the same thing.
Second, sometimes sharing your story can really help other people. People respond to truth and struggle. Jason writes that he didn’t realize that PTSD can be improved and treated in a majority of cases, because he hadn’t seen that. Now, he’s a walking role model.
Last, measure success for yourself. What’s more important, waging a campaign or preserving your marriage, having a healthy daughter, and spending time with your dying grandfather? Jason literally experienced that tradeoff, and I have no doubt is glad for the way things turned out.
I’ll admit that reading Jason’s story struck me on a personal level, as someone who has run a campaign or two. I used to say, “I have two jobs: run for President and stay married.” Those two jobs were not exactly aligned all of the time. I’m grateful every day that I never had to choose.
