Jeb Bush
43rd governor of Florida (1999-2007); chairman, ExcelinEd, nonprofit K-12 education policy group, Tallahassee; founding partner, private equity firm Finback Investment Partners, Coral Gables
Originally published March 2025
The whole idea of a legacy — you’ve got to protect the legacy — is kind of meaningless. I really strive hard to not require therapy, so you’ve got to have enough humility to let go.
I don’t miss running for office. I loved being governor. I was like a pig in slop. I love the leadership challenges. I love the team that I got to work with. If I had a legacy, it would be this extraordinary group of people that have really soared in our post-Jeb world.
One of the things I enjoyed when I was governor, in retrospect, was the tension that a robust press created. I’m not trying to be righteous about this, because I didn’t like it when I was governor. Having some degree of accountability just keeps you on your toes and makes you think, ‘Is there a better way of thinking about this?’ Having the Legislature or an independent press or some other institution slap you across the face once in a while is not a bad thing.
I was 21 and 10 days when I got married. My wife was 20. I fell in love with her the minute I met her. It was a life-altering event. (In high school), call it, 12 of us went down to León, Guanajuato, Mexico, and I met her at the very end of that two- or three-month experience. She was in a car, and our eyes met. I was a mediocre student, probably, until I met her. I got focused. Honor roll my last semester in high school, the only time I was on the honor roll for four years.
The best book to describe my dad would be All the Best. It’s basically a book around his letters.
Taylor Swift did a (2010) concert at St. Ann’s Church at Kennebunkport, Maine. Because my dad loves country music. ‘This young girl is really good. Let’s call her.’ She came. He just lived this life. Interesting people would show up. A thousand friends. Jumping out of airplanes. And his copilot of life was right there along with him — living ’til the end, a life of purpose and meaning.
Made mistakes for sure. I wouldn’t call 2016 a mistake. I gave it my all. What I was offering was kind of not relevant for the feeling of angst and anger that people had. President Trump is pretty good, you know, connecting with people’s feelings of unfairness or anxiety and maybe exacerbating it. I was in the attempted problem-solving business. No one wanted to problem-solve, but I’m glad I did it. I spent a lot of time listening, learning, sharing who I was. For someone who’s more introverted than a typical politician, that’s pretty exhausting and insightful. A meaningful part of my life, for sure.
We had three kids, and my wife and I wanted them to grow up as Catholics. The ’94 campaign — I said, win or lose, I’m gonna go through the RCIA (converting to Catholic). The Catholics that were volunteering to be mentors were just incredible, just compassionate, kindhearted people. Instead of worrying about, ‘Oh, I lost,’ I got to hang out with people that reminded me of the more important things.
The universality of the Catholic Church, the Holy Communion, the Mass itself, the fact that it doesn’t change. I found that those concepts of universality, the powerful nature of life itself and the connection to Jesus were really meaningful.
I work out every day. I’ve gone back to the gym here. Had a total knee replacement, so I have to restrengthen my legs. That atrophy, man, it’s immediate. It’s pretty wild.
There’s a lot of common ground that can be found that doesn’t violate your core principals. But if you make the effort to try to solve that thing, you’re kicked out of the tribe. The institutions we’ve relied on that need to be reformed — there’s a long list of them. The CDC would be a good example of an institution that was considered the best in the world, and it failed us during COVID. At some point we need to be in the problem-solving business rather than making-the-point business.
The legislative process is really interesting for an introvert like me. It has a rhythm and a pace to it. It’s different every time, when you engage and when you don’t, when you just say, look, it’s your all’s job to do this part. There was one two-year period where the House leader, I won’t mention which one, didn’t talk to the Senate leader and vice versa. And we were left with having to be the intermediary. I learned real quick that that was the dumbest idea. It just encouraged bad behavior.
People come here, in some ways, because we haven’t screwed it up. I worry about resting on our laurels. If we don’t push the pause button, I’m really excited about the prospects of Florida.
Texan by birth, Floridian by choice, and very proud of it. Texans are legitimately proud of their state, but I think they overdo it. Florida should be prouder of our state. I’ll never forget my first inauguration. It was the same size crowd as my brother’s. In Texas, they all had Texas flags everywhere. In Florida, there were no Florida flags. What’s the Florida identity? I think Gov. DeSantis has actually done a pretty good job creating one.
The mindset now is, oh my God, world’s coming to an end, right? I would argue the opposite. When I do give public talks, I’ll say something I still believe to be true. I’d rather be 21 than 71 — not for the reasons that most people think. We’re on the verge of an extraordinary time to be alive.
Interview by Mike Vogel
Photo by Eileen Escarda
“It’s maybe naive to think this, but history is full of examples of how we’ve regained our footing. I’m pretty optimistic.”
