THE GREAT CONTRADICTION

Rep. Jasmine Crockett has accomplished something most freshman members of Congress can only dream of: she has built a national political brand in just three years. Her viral moments—from her now-legendary "Bleach Blonde Bad Built Butch Body" riposte to Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene to her fiery condemnations of Republican policy—have garnered hundreds of millions of views, launched her merchandise line, and propelled her into serious contention for a U.S. Senate seat in 2026.

Yet here is the problem: almost no one can name a single major piece of legislation she has passed.

This is not a failure unique to Crockett. It reflects something far more systemic and dangerous in American politics—the triumph of Identity Politics over Actual Politics, and the reduction of a Representative's job from legislator to celebrity influencer.

When political observers ask, "Would someone else be better suited to represent Texas District 30?" they are really asking: "Do we want a workhorse or a showhorse?" And the uncomfortable truth is that the incentive structure of modern politics—gerrymandered safe seats, primary electorates dominated by ideological voters, and social media algorithms that reward outrage—has made the showhorse job infinitely more profitable and politically safer than the workhorse job.

THE DELIVERABLES: REAL, BUT INVISIBLE

Let's start with what Crockett has done for her district, because it matters and it is being drowned out by the noise.

In the FY2024 Consolidated Appropriations Act, Rep. Crockett secured $10.476 million in Community Project Funding (earmarks) for 11 specific local initiatives. This is real money, delivered to real communities:

$2.5 million for the MLK Jr. Community Center in South Dallas, which serves over 300,000 residents annually.

$850,000 for Fair Park Community Park, converting a parking lot into an 18-acre green space.

$850,000 for Park South Family YMCA renovations.

$600,000 for the Bonton Farms Resource Center to support workforce development.

$500,000 for the UNT Dallas Community Lawyering Center, providing free legal services.

Additional funding for community parks and infrastructure in Cedar Hill, Lancaster, DeSoto, and Grand Prairie.

This is the invisible backbone of congressional service: the grants, the infrastructure projects, the unsexy work of bringing federal tax dollars back to your district. By most measures, Crockett is competent at this job. She is not, as critics suggest, completely derelict in her duties.

So why does no one know about it?

Because $10 million in community grants does not trend on Twitter. A measured statement about housing policy does not generate 50 million views. A compromise amendment to a transportation bill does not sell merchandise.

THE REAL JOB VS. THE BRAND JOB

Here is where the analysis gets uncomfortable: Crockett's supporters are voting intentionally for the version of her she is offering.

In 2022, she defeated Jane Hope Hamilton in a runoff for this seat. Hamilton was exactly the kind of workhorse Crockett's critics say the district needs: a long-time congressional staffer, policy expert, and insider's insider. She was endorsed by the retiring incumbent, Eddie Bernice Johnson. She promised detailed policy work, bipartisan relationships, and traditional constituent service.

The voters rejected her decisively.

They chose Crockett because she is a fighter, because she goes on television and defends Black Congresswomen against attacks, because she represents—symbolically—the kind of aggressive defense of identity and dignity that many voters feel has been missing from Democratic politics for years.

This is the key insight: voters in safe Democratic districts like TX-30 are not choosing between a fighter and a legislator. They are choosing between two different definitions of what "representation" means.

For some voters, representation means "bring home the bacon." For others, it means "make the other side hurt." In a district where Democrats never lose a general election, the primary electorate gets to set the definition. And in modern primaries, the definition is increasingly the latter.

THE STRUCTURAL TRAP

This is where it becomes not just a critique of Crockett, but a critique of the entire system.

Congress has become functionally gridlocked. Passing major legislation is extraordinarily difficult. Bipartisanship is political suicide in a primary. Committee work is invisible and unrewarding. Meanwhile, social media algorithms reward outrage, cable news cameras follow confrontation, and donors fund politicians who can go viral.

Under these conditions, a rational politician—especially one in a safe seat—will optimize for visibility and ideological purity over legislative output. Crockett is not uniquely cynical or performative. She is responding logically to the incentive structure she faces.

The problem is that this system leaves actual problems unsolved. When politicians on both sides retreat into culture war battles because they are easier to "win" than solving infrastructure, healthcare, or economic policy, the country suffers.

The voter sees their representative on television fighting the good fight. The economy stagflates. The infrastructure crumbles. Congress passes fewer bills than at any point in modern history.

WOULD SOMEONE ELSE BE "BETTER SUITED"?

The honest answer: Yes, probably. But only if voters wanted someone different.

If the district replaced Crockett with a traditional workhorse politician—someone like Adam Bazaldua (Dallas City Council) or Venton Jones (Texas State Rep)—the new representative might secure the same $10-12 million in annual funding. They might pass more bipartisan bills. They would likely avoid the censure resolutions and culture war theater.

But they would also have dramatically less national influence and less ability to mobilize voters on issues of national importance. Is that a trade-off the district wants to make? That is a legitimate political question.

What is not legitimate is pretending the current system is healthy or that Crockett is uniquely the problem. She is a symptom of a much larger disease: the collapse of "Actual Politics" and its replacement with "Identity Politics."

We have built a system where:

Gerrymandering removes electoral competition, making primaries the real election

Primaries are dominated by ideological voters who reward confrontation over compromise

Social media algorithms amplify outrage and suppress policy discussion

Money flows to politicians who can go viral, not politicians who pass bills

Congress is so polarized and gridlocked that individual legislators have little ability to move major legislation anyway

In such a system, Jasmine Crockett is simply playing the game optimally. She is not an aberration. She is the logical endpoint of these incentive structures.

THE HARD TRUTH

The question you posed—"are we living on identity politics over actual politics?"—is not really about Crockett. It is about whether American voters, in the age of social media and polarization, still care about things like infrastructure, housing, healthcare, and economic policy, or whether they have fully migrated to a politics of representation, dignity, and tribal warfare.

The answer, based on the rise of politicians like Crockett across both parties, appears to be: we are living in a transitional moment where "actual politics" (delivering material benefits, solving problems) has become subordinate to "identity politics" (defending group dignity, fighting culture wars).

This is not sustainable. A government that optimizes purely for symbolic victories will eventually fail to deliver material results. Voters will notice. The system will destabilize. History suggests that when this happens, the backlash can be severe.

In the meantime, Dallas gets its $10.5 million in community funding, Crockett sells merchandise with her viral one-liners, and Congress passes fewer bills than at any time in modern history.

Whether that is a good deal depends on what you think the job of a Representative actually is.