What Josh Kraft’s Loss Says About Excessive Ambition at Harvard

The results of Boston’s mayoral preliminary should be a warning to Harvard students eyeing public office or influence.

The race between Josh Kraft — of the wealthy Kraft family — and incumbent mayor Michelle Wu ’07 is at last over. After a poor finish in this initial Boston election, Kraft has dropped out.

But I hope my most ambitious classmates will also learn an important lesson from Kraft’s ill-fated campaign: Enter politics only if you truly hope to serve others. Don’t confuse public service with power.

Kraft’s candidacy pitched him not as the typical wealthy candidate, but as a humanitarian. Behind the carefully-crafted image, however, was a familiar story. He is the son of Robert Kraft — owner of the New England Patriots and notably, a previous long-time friend of President Donald Trump. He is the heir to a financial dynasty, but his campaign asked us to see something else: compassion.

Kraft’s record in philanthropy, including heading the New England Patriots Foundation and the Boys & Girls Clubs of Boston, became central to his campaign. He championed affordable housing and criticized Boston’s current “out-of-touch, unresponsive and unreachable” leadership.

He tried to separate himself from the billionaires club. But it didn’t land — for good reason.

He had no political experience, and didn’t even live in Boston until 2023. He was up against a well-liked and successful incumbent. After facing insurmountable poll numbers, Kraft dropped out, promising to donate his remaining campaign funds to philanthropic causes.

This decision was ultimately noble, but it raises a troubling question: Why did he funnel millions into his campaign in the first place? Surely that money could have served the public interest in better ways than a longshot run for office.

And Kraft’s playbook wasn’t new.

In 2001, Michael Bloomberg, the richest man in New York City, entered the mayoral race as a political novice. Capitalizing on his reputation as a philanthropist, he poured $74 million of his own money into his campaign, and won. In 2020, he tried again, sinking over $1 billion into his four month failed presidential campaign.

Kraft seemed to mimic this path, trying to use his wealth as a quick boost into public office. For now, Boston voters didn’t buy it.

But what does this have to do with Harvard students? With your Government and Economics joint concentration? Or the hours you spent perfecting your IOP Common Application? Or the late night prepping your Harvard Undergraduate Consulting Group comp slides?

Harvard is a shortcut into politics and power. But its culture doesn’t always encourage us to wield that influence responsibly.

Every year, hundreds of students funnel into the pre-political or pre-financial pipeline. The Institute of Politics — not the classroom — seems to become their home for the next four years. IOP officer campaigns appear to happen with the seriousness of a run for congress. And I don’t need to rehash the notoriety and exclusivity of Harvard’s financial clubs.

With the right social maneuvering, an enthusiastic student can network themselves to the moon. After all, Mayor Michelle Wu graduated from Harvard in 2007. And Kraft received his master's degree from the Harvard Graduate School of Education.

In four years, these Harvard students will be catapulted into our nation’s most powerful positions. But the question is not just who among us will choose the path to influence, it’s why they’ll choose it.

And so I ask my peers: Why do you want those positions? What is motivating your career?

Public service and social impact certainly seem like the right answers, but are they the truthful ones? Don’t cloak ambition in a practiced spiel about saving your country, or your city, or your people. Don't use causes as rungs on the ladder of your career.

On my first day at Harvard, I looked around and wondered: Who will be my future senator? Who will bankroll their campaign?

There is an unspoken — and often spoken — understanding among students that some of us will go on to hold enormous power. For those who do, Josh Kraft’s campaign should be a cautionary tale — a reminder of what happens when we mistake wealth for legitimacy, or when ambition hides behind philanthropy.

The lesson of his loss isn’t just about him. It’s about us. Harvard opens doors — but character decides where they lead.

Katie H. Martin ’28, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Currier House.