Opinions

Florida has a real problem and it has nothing to do with what's in the school library or who's performing at a drag show. It has to do with the fact that insurance is unaffordable, housing is unaffordable, utilities are unaffordable, and healthcare is inaccessible — and the people running the state have been too busy fighting culture wars to do a single damn thing about any of it.

David Jolly gets this. He was a Republican congressman who left the party because he couldn't stomach what it became. He's running for governor as a Democrat in 2026 on a platform that sounds radical only because it involves actually governing: a state catastrophic fund to take hurricane coverage off the private market and reduce insurance premiums by 60 to 70 percent. Bringing in clean, renewable energy to lower utility costs. Expanding Medicaid so Floridians can see a doctor. Real stuff. Stuff that affects real people.

He's been endorsed by 60 current and former Florida Democratic officials, by Gwen Graham — daughter of the last Democratic governor Florida had — and by editorial boards who called him "a reality-based candidate." He appeals to disaffected Republicans and independents because he actually is one. His slogan is "Believe in Florida's Future." He means it.

Now let's talk about what he's running against.

Byron Donalds — Trump's endorsed candidate — is a man whose entire political career has been a performance for a base that demands loyalty above all else. He voted to reject the certified 2020 election results from Arizona and Pennsylvania in the hours after the Capitol was attacked. He called Joe Biden "not the legitimate president" as recently as 2023. He is not a Florida-first candidate. He is a Trump-first candidate wearing a Florida suit.

But it gets more specific. Donalds has voted in Congress to lease more public lands and waters for oil drilling, to fast-track fossil fuels over clean energy, to open the Arctic Refuge to drilling, and for a bill the League of Conservation Voters literally called the "Polluters Over People Act." His district is on the Gulf Coast of Southwest Florida. The people he represents fish those waters. They vacation on those beaches. And he voted to put oil rigs in them.

He did eventually sign a letter opposing drilling near Eglin Air Force Base — but only because it interferes with military test ranges. Not because he gives a damn about Florida's coastline. The moment there's no military angle, he's back to voting for drilling.

Florida has a Democratic primary on August 18, 2026. David Jolly is in it. If you are a Florida voter, a Florida resident, or someone who gives a damn what happens to a state that 22 million people call home — this is who you should be watching, talking about, and voting for.

We don't need another politician who shows up for donors and disappears for constituents. Florida needs someone who will actually govern. Jolly is it. The Banned In Florida Club is behind him. Get loud about it.

Here's something that should make your blood boil. In 2010, the people of Florida — by a massive majority — passed the Fair Districts Amendments to their state constitution. These amendments explicitly banned partisan gerrymandering. The language is clear: maps cannot be drawn to favor a political party. The voters put it in the constitution because they wanted it to stick.

Ron DeSantis doesn't care what the voters put in the constitution.

In 2022, he vetoed the Republican legislature's own map — which had preserved existing districts — called a special session, submitted his own map, and demanded lawmakers accept it. The map created four new Republican-leaning seats. A state judge ruled the map unconstitutional. DeSantis appealed. His hand-picked Florida Supreme Court — five of the seven justices appointed by DeSantis himself — overruled the judge and blessed the gerrymander.

The result: Republicans went from holding 16 of Florida's 28 congressional seats to 20. Four more seats. From one man drawing a map that a court said was illegal. And the most infuriating part? He erased a North Florida congressional district where Black voters had consistently elected their candidate of choice for three decades. Gone. One stroke of the pen. Because he could.

This week — this week, as of this writing — DeSantis announced he's doing it again. A new gerrymander aimed at flipping four more Democratic seats before the 2026 midterms. The Florida legislature passed it. Republicans who voted against it were told they were betraying the party. A Republican state senator said she "just can't do it" because the legal theory the map rested on had never even been tested in court. She voted no. The map passed anyway.

The Fair Districts Amendments are still in the Florida Constitution. No court has struck them down. DeSantis has simply decided they don't apply to him. He told reporters that the Supreme Court's recent ruling assured him the courts wouldn't enforce the standards. Not that they were struck down. Not that they don't apply. Just that he believes no one will stop him. And so far, he's been right.

This is what authoritarianism looks like in practice. Not tanks in the street. Just a governor who looks at a law his own citizens passed and says "doesn't apply to me" — and then dares someone to stop him. Florida voters banned this. Ron DeSantis did it anyway. Twice. If that doesn't make you want to vote, donate, organize, and scream — I don't know what will.

The legal challenges are coming. But every day this map stands, it shapes who gets elected, who holds power, and whose votes actually count in Florida. This is the issue. Not the drag shows. Not the books. This — the deliberate, systematic, unconstitutional dismantling of fair representation — is how they hold power. And they're doing it right in front of you.

Let me walk you through this slowly because it is exactly as bad as it sounds.

Centene Corporation is Florida's biggest Medicaid contractor. In 2021, they overbilled the state by $67 million. Florida negotiated a settlement — Centene would return the money to the federal and state governments. That's taxpayer money. Medicaid money. Money intended for low-income Floridians who need healthcare.

Ten million dollars of that settlement went instead to Hope Florida Foundation. Hope Florida is a charity founded by Casey DeSantis — the governor's wife — in 2021. It's supposed to help needy Floridians find community resources. The year before it received this $10 million, the foundation had total revenue of $850,000. It had never seen money like this in its existence.

What did the Foundation do with $10 million? It gave $5 million to "Secure Florida's Future" — a nonprofit tied to the Florida Chamber of Commerce. And $5 million to "Save Our Society From Drugs." Both are dark money groups — meaning they don't have to tell anyone where their money comes from or where it goes. Together, these two groups sent $8.5 million to a political action committee called "Keep Florida Clean," which was dedicated to defeating Amendment 3 — the marijuana legalization amendment that 56% of Florida voters supported.

Who chaired Keep Florida Clean? James Uthmeier — Ron DeSantis's chief of staff. The same man DeSantis later appointed as Florida's Attorney General. The man now in charge of the criminal investigation that might implicate him.

A Republican state representative — Alex Andrade — led the investigation in the Florida House. He called it "a conspiracy to commit money laundering and wire fraud." He said there was "no question that these were Medicaid funds, steered by the Governor's chief of staff through secret and clandestine actions to his own political committee." The House investigation stalled when the DeSantis administration refused to cooperate. A criminal investigation was opened in May 2025. A grand jury began hearing testimony in October 2025. Subpoenas went out. Multiple DeSantis administration officials were questioned about conspiracy charges.

DeSantis's response to all of this? He called it "pure politics" and "baseless smears." He attacked Republican lawmakers who asked questions. He appointed the man at the center of the investigation to be the state's top law enforcement officer. Then he showed up at a press conference and announced Hope Florida was expanding its services.

And here's the part that should make every Florida Republican sick to their stomach: This is money that was supposed to go to sick people. Medicaid money. Money for healthcare. It went through a charity, through dark money groups, through a political committee, and ended up in Ron DeSantis's PAC and the Republican Party of Florida — used to fight a ballot amendment that 56% of voters supported.

This is corruption. Not alleged corruption. Not "complicated" corruption. Follow-the-money, follow-the-subpoenas, follow-the-grand-jury corruption. And the man who did it is calling his accusers political operatives while appointing his implicated chief of staff to run the state's justice system. If you are a Republican in Florida and you are okay with this — then you are as corrupt as your politicians. That's not an insult. It's an accounting.

The Banned In Florida Club has a coin for Ron DeBanDis. This is why. Read the full dossier →