There are certain advantages to running for statewide office in Texas as a Republican. The biggest one is obvious: You are running for statewide office in Texas as a Republican.
A Democrat hasn’t won a U.S. Senate race here since 1988. For decades, that fact has functioned as the Texas GOP’s political security blanket. Candidates can have flaws. Candidates can have baggage. Candidates can run mediocre campaigns and still reasonably expect that, when Election Day arrives, enough Texans will find the Republican box and check it.
But all streaks eventually end. Even Cal Ripken took a day off after 16 years.
And Republicans ought to at least consider the increasingly uncomfortable possibility that Ken Paxton is exactly the kind of candidate who could end this particular streak.
I say this as someone who has been deeply skeptical for years that Democrats could win statewide in Texas. Every few years Democrats discover their latest Great Texas Hope, national reporters write their “Texas Is Turning Blue” stories, Democratic donors pour another mountain of money into the state, and Republicans win again.
But this race looks different enough that Republicans would be foolish to shrug it off.
Four of the last six polls showed Democrat James Talarico ahead of Paxton, while another showed a tie. Yes, polls miss. We’ve had some spectacular polling misses in recent years.
But compare this with 2018.
Not a single poll during that entire campaign showed Beto O’Rourke leading Ted Cruz. Not one. Cruz ultimately won 50.9 percent to 48.3 percent.
Now we have multiple polls showing Talarico ahead.
That ought to get somebody’s attention.
And Talarico isn’t exactly a Democrat genetically engineered to appeal to traditional Texas voters. This is the reanimated Howdy Doody doll who has made controversial remarks about God and the Bible, believes Americans need to reduce their meat consumption and has called the American flag a “complicated symbol for most of us.”
Republicans are not going to lack material.
Paxton, meanwhile, isn't running like a guy who understands that he might actually lose.
Somebody Might Want to Raise Some Money
Consider the fundraising numbers.
In their latest quarterly Federal Election Commission filings, Talarico's campaign reported raising $31.6 million. Paxton reported $9.3 million.
Since the beginning of 2025, Talarico has raised $72 million.
Paxton: $16.8 million.
Talarico ended June with $23.3 million in cash on hand, more than triple what Paxton had available.
That's a problem.
Money isn't everything in politics, and Texas Republicans have plenty of outside organizations capable of coming to Paxton's rescue. But Senate candidates are supposed to raise money themselves, particularly when they are carrying enough personal and political baggage to fill the cargo hold of a 747.
Paxton was impeached by the Republican-controlled Texas House while serving as attorney general, although the Texas Senate ultimately acquitted him. His marriage has fallen apart publicly. His wife, Angela Paxton, filed for divorce. And allegations surrounding an extramarital affair have followed him for years.
He has also traditionally run behind other Texas Republicans running statewide.
None of those things necessarily makes Paxton unelectable.
But here's a useful rule of politics:
You can't be a terrible reprobate and a lazy candidate.
At minimum, you must be a hard-working terrible reprobate.
American voters have repeatedly demonstrated that they're willing to overlook an astonishing amount of personal behavior from politicians they otherwise like. Bill Clinton was elected president twice. Donald Trump was elected president twice.
Voters don't demand saints.
But when you're already asking voters to overlook a warehouse full of controversies, perhaps you shouldn't also ask them to overlook the fact that your opponent is raising four times as much money and campaigning harder than you are.
Yes, They're Going to Ask About the Affair
Paxton recently held a telephone town hall.
A caller asked him:
“Hi Paxton, it’s nice to meet you. I’m just wondering why did you cheat on your wife?”
Paxton answered:
“Um, I’m not going to talk about personal issues that relate to my family, just like I don’t think you would want to discuss your marriage on a call with thousands of people. All I can tell you is that I’m proud of my kids. Got four wonderful kids. I’ve got seven grandchildren. Well, six and one on the way. And there’s a lot at stake. And so, while I care about this country, I’m not going to talk about things that would affect them. So, thank you much for your question.”
I'm not sure “you wouldn't want to discuss your marriage on a call with thousands of people” is quite the devastating response Paxton apparently thinks it is.
Maybe the caller has a terrific marriage. Maybe the caller isn't married.
More importantly, the caller isn't running for the United States Senate.
Paxton is.
And this question wasn't exactly coming out of left field. If you're a candidate who is infamous for an alleged affair and accusations that you pressured other people to hire your mistress, reporters and voters are going to ask about it.
You don't have to like the question.
You do need an answer.
There is a perfectly plausible political response available here. Express regret. Say you've made mistakes. Say you've hurt people you love. Say you've asked for forgiveness. Say the matter is between you and your family and you're focused on serving Texas.
Something.
Instead, Paxton sounded annoyed that someone would bring up an issue that everyone knew would be brought up.
That isn't preparation.
Remember Mark Sanford?
There's a useful example from South Carolina.
In 2013, South Carolina's first congressional district held a special election after Governor Nikki Haley appointed Representative Tim Scott to fill Jim DeMint's vacant U.S. Senate seat.
The Republican nominee was former Governor Mark Sanford.
Yes, that Mark Sanford.
The “hiking the Appalachian Trail” Mark Sanford, whose mysterious disappearance as governor turned out to involve an extramarital affair.
Democrats thought they had a tremendous opportunity. Their nominee was Elizabeth Colbert Busch, sister of comedian and television host Stephen Colbert. She could raise money. Sanford had been humiliated nationally. Special elections can produce strange turnout.
And a little more than two weeks before Election Day, Public Policy Polling showed Colbert Busch leading by ten points.
But there was another factor.
Sanford worked his ass off.
Whatever else anyone thought about him, Sanford campaigned everywhere. He was doing something like ten events a day with voters.
Colbert Busch's campaign took a much more cautious approach. She was doing roughly one event per day, often reading prepared remarks and avoiding questions.
By PPP's final poll, her ten-point advantage had shrunk to one point.
Sanford won 54 percent to 45 percent.
Candidates can't control everything that happens during a campaign. They can't control the economy. They can't control the national political environment. They can't control media coverage, the president's approval rating, what other candidates say or whether some national political story suddenly swallows the race.
But candidates can control two extremely important things.
They control their schedules.
And they control how much time they spend fundraising.
Campaign professionals will tell you that a candidate's most valuable resource is time. Money is theoretically unlimited. You can always raise another dollar.
You cannot raise another Tuesday.
And that's what makes Paxton's situation so maddening for Republicans.
He isn't losing ground because Democrats suddenly transformed Texas into California.
He's in danger because he's facing a talented, extremely well-funded opponent while apparently operating under the assumption that Texas's Republican lean will eventually take care of everything.
Maybe it will.
But I wouldn't bet a Senate seat on it.
“But It's Texas”
This is the argument I keep hearing.
Relax.
It's Texas.
Republicans always win statewide.
Eventually the Republican voters will come home.
Maybe.
But I remember hearing essentially the same argument in Alabama in 2017.
Republicans nominated Roy Moore for the U.S. Senate. Moore was a walking disaster area, but plenty of people insisted that Alabama was simply too Republican to elect a Democrat.
Then Alabama elected Doug Jones.
Texas is not Alabama, Paxton is not Moore and Talarico is not Jones. History doesn't repeat itself that neatly.
The broader lesson is simply that partisan advantage has limits.
Talarico doesn't need Texas to suddenly become a blue state. He needs a relatively small percentage of voters who normally support Republicans to decide they won't support Ken Paxton.
Suburban voters matter here. Suburban women matter.
Paxton has alienated plenty of them.
And unlike some Democratic candidates Republicans have faced in the past, Talarico can raise enormous amounts of money to introduce himself, soften his ideological edges and spend the fall reminding those voters of every controversy Paxton would prefer not to discuss.
Paxton Can Still Win
None of this means Paxton is doomed.
He absolutely can win.
The Republican governor could help drag him across the finish line. Donald Trump and national Republican groups can spend heavily. Talarico could have a disastrous debate, make another controversial statement or simply discover that there remains a ceiling for Democrats in Texas.
All of that is possible.
What Republicans should stop doing is treating a Paxton victory as inevitable.
The other warning sign is that Paxton has already started complaining that national Republican groups aren't giving him enough support.
If he loses, you can already see the explanation being assembled.
The National Republican Senatorial Committee failed him. Washington Republicans didn't spend enough. Outside groups abandoned Texas.
Perhaps they will.
But national Republicans shouldn't have to perform an emergency extraction operation to save a Senate seat in Texas because their nominee couldn't be bothered to raise enough money and prepare answers to obvious questions.
President Donald Trump's super PAC is sitting on $401 million in cash and, so far, has spent just $2.3 million helping Republicans win elections. There is plenty of money floating around Republican politics.
The question is how much of it Republicans want to spend rescuing Ken Paxton.
Every dollar spent defending Texas is a dollar that can't be spent somewhere Republicans actually expected to have a difficult race.
Early voting begins October 19.
That's close enough that “it's Texas” isn't much of a campaign plan anymore.
Something has to change.
Paxton needs to raise money. He needs to campaign. He needs to answer uncomfortable questions without acting surprised that anyone asked them. He needs to start behaving like a candidate who understands he isn't automatically entitled to the U.S. Senate seat because he won the Republican primary.
I still wouldn't predict that James Talarico will become the next senator from Texas.
But I wouldn't confidently predict Ken Paxton will either.
And for a Republican Senate nominee in Texas, that fact alone should be terrifying.
The problem isn't merely that Ken Paxton has scandals. Everyone knew about the scandals.
The problem is that he has scandals, a well-funded opponent, bad polling and an apparent allergy to doing the basic things candidates do when they're in danger.
Again, you can be a terrible reprobate.
