“This is my first time in Washington,” Dan Osborn told me at a rooftop cocktail event earlier this month. He said it as a statement of fact, but it’s a humblebrag for his outsider campaign for U.S. Senate in Nebraska. A union leader who organized the 2021 Kellogg strike, Osborn is a first-time candidate running as an independent, and with no Democrat in the race, he’s the sole challenger to unseat two-term Republican Deb Fischer.
Osborn’s lack of experience inside the Beltway complements his campaign’s depiction of him as the ultimate Washington antagonist. He’s so uncompromised by the sausage-making that he’s never even been inside the sausage factory; so uncorrupted by corporate lobbying that he didn’t even know what K Street meant until it came up in conversation that night; and so unshackled from the deadweight of the two-party system that he rejects both, eschewing their help and their consultants.
His campaign embraces his political naïveté as a badge of honor. After completing a short stump speech and walking offstage with a slight limp, Osborn asked me, “How’d I sound up there?” He was dead serious.
We were at a donor event, but an unlikely one, hosted by a group called the Patriotic Millionaires. They’re a network of high-net-worth individuals dedicated to funding candidates who pledge to punish them with a higher tax rate, because they think it’s best for the country. Each election cycle, a procession of candidates step forward to do the flogging, in the hopes of coming away with a few handsome checks.
Osborn certainly needs the financial support if he’s going to take on an incumbent whose campaign cash is mostly coming from corporate super PACs. So far, his mostly small-dollar donations, averaging $37, are far outpacing Fischer’s. But overall, he is far behind her in totals. As of the end of March, he’s raised a little over $600,000, while Fischer had $3.5 million in cash on hand, over ten times more than Osborn.
And yet, despite the advantage in fundraising, a Change Research poll from December made a splash, showing Osborn leading Fischer.
He warmed up the crowd with a half-joking plea. “I made $48,000 dollars this past year,” he admitted to the audience. “And TurboTax says I owe about $6,000 back to the IRS … I bet there must be more than a few tax lawyers in the room who know how to do some clever accounting.” (These are not exact figures because of a job change Osborn made last year.)
The opening received a few chuckles, but didn’t grab the less than fully attentive audience, which was chattering away loudly. Osborn is more soft-spoken than the usual politician, and when he first took the stage, the crowd may have thought the bartender stepped out to deliver a few words.
Labor is really where Osborn’s political roots lie, and the Kellogg strike is his origin story.
Osborn, age 49, wore jeans, a pair of Vans, and a checkered Western shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his tattoo sleeve peeking out. The first strategist who put Osborn on my radar compared his style to Sen. John Fetterman’s (D-PA), known for his Carhartt hoodie and shorts, and I could see why. But with Osborn, the informal attire is not intended to signal allegiance to the working man. He doesn’t even own a suit.
His staff wanted to make it clear to me that the campaign looked into buying him a proper blazer for the trip to Washington, but were wary about campaign finance laws prohibiting personal expenditures on items like expensive clothing. The campaign is also eager to point out that he’s part of the working class, in a country where the median net worth of a member of Congress is over a million dollars. In fact, Osborn is still working his day job to pay the bills while the campaign ramps up. He’s training as an apprentice to become an industrial steamfitter.
He has scars to show for a life spent working inside a factory, etched in the leathery palms of his hands that are abrasive when you shake them. His right hand was mangled in a bloody workplace accident that required eight staples and five separate surgeries. It nearly left him permanently disabled. In the end, his employer Kellogg paid only a puny workplace safety violation fine over the incident.
Throughout the D.C. trip, which I shadowed, Osborn would periodically reach into his briefcase to take a swig from a bottle of DayQuil, occasionally offering me a sip. He’d been feeling under the weather after being exposed to a massive asbestos blast at his steamfitter apprenticeship the week before. “That one was my mistake,” he said with a shrug. “I should have been wearing a mask.” He can feel it in his lungs when he breathes in.
Despite the grisly accidents on the job, he takes pride in his work, to the point that he can’t help comparing political solutions to fixing one of the engines he works on at the plant. But he also talks about his work with a kind of fatalism. “I’ve just accepted at this point that I’ll have long-term health problems from all the chemicals I’ve taken in over the years,” he later told me.
Alex Brandon/AP Photo
Osborn is challenging two-term Republican Sen. Deb Fischer, seen here at a Senate Armed Services subcommittee hearing last year.
AS A NON-DEMOCRAT, OSBORN’S PITCH TO A PROGRESSIVE AUDIENCE that night required a bit of finesse, mainly emphasizing his personal biography and the political party of the opponent he’s running against. He’d occasionally look over at one of his advisers mouthing the words “Democrats” to remind him who he was speaking to.
Whether he’s speaking to urban liberal crowds or MAGA voters in rural Nebraska, Osborn’s staff argues that the message is the same: Politicians like Deb Fischer are stabbing working people like himself in the back, and he’s running to bring the same militancy to Washington that he did to the picket line during the Kellogg strike. He’s championing populist economic policies to curb concentrated corporate power and rebuild the middle class. In particular, he’s focused on railroads and Big Ag, old-school monopolies that still have a stranglehold over Nebraska’s economy. (His adviser told me that the book Goliath: The 100-Year War Between Monopoly Power and Democracy by Matt Stoller made a lasting impression on Osborn.)
More broadly, one of the campaign’s go-to talking points is the massive upward wealth transfer that’s taken place since the 1980s, and more recently since the pandemic. Part of fixing wealth inequality, the theory goes, is to elect more people with Osborn’s background and eject “politicians who only represent Lincoln [the state’s capital] like Deb Fischer,” a recurrent line in the campaign’s rhetoric.
I heard similar versions of that speech over the next day as we drove around town from one event to the next, mainly with unions and a few other interest groups like Reproductive Freedom for All (formerly NARAL). The favorable poll has given Osborn a boost, and entry into political circles. The main task of the trip was to capitalize on the recent momentum to court endorsements and expand their base of support. He’s already received the endorsement of the Nebraska AFL-CIO along with multiple other unions.
Labor is really where Osborn’s political roots lie, and the Kellogg strike is his origin story. Before that, he wasn’t an especially political person. He admitted to me that he hardly ever voted, because he didn’t see the point. Anyway, he was working long hours.
Osborn grew up in Omaha, where his dad worked at the Union Pacific Railroad, loading and unloading cargo. After a brutal accident took out a chunk of his lip, Osborn’s father transferred to the management side, which took him to Washington state. Osborn stayed in Omaha to finish up high school, and has lived on his own since the age of 16, working odd jobs to pay the rent.
The first time he got fired was at the hands of one of his favorite Hollywood actors, Charlton Heston, when Osborn waited on his table at an Omaha café. He recognized Heston and referred to his performance as Moses in The Ten Commandments. “May I part that Red Sea for you, sir,” Osborn said, gesturing to a drink he’d just served him and offering a straw. Heston, a rare rock-ribbed Republican in Hollywood, was not amused, and asked the manager to give Osborn the boot on the spot. It wouldn’t be the first time.
After getting out of the Navy, Osborn started work at Kellogg as a mechanic and made his way up the ladder of the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers International Union to become president of the local plant in Omaha.
In 2021, amid the pandemic, the union clashed with management in a highly contentious contract negotiation that ultimately led to a 77-day nationwide strike. Osborn was on the front lines, coordinating with other locals to fend off strikebreakers and organizing the 1,400 workers who participated. Some of the union members he locked arms with were conservative and others liberal, but the distinctions didn’t really matter. They were protecting their livelihoods and fighting against the bosses who were putting the boot on their neck. And politicians in Nebraska, Deb Fischer included, were nowhere to be seen; in fact, most were working against them. That experience planted the seeds for Osborn’s future bid as an independent.
Courtesy Osborn for Senate
In 2021, Osborn was on the front lines of the strike against Kellogg, coordinating with other locals to fend off strikebreakers and organizing the 1,400 workers who participated.
“To be honest, I was never a very goal-oriented person most of my life. I wasn’t the ambitious kid in school or anything,” Osborn confessed to me at a bar. “But seeing how we were getting screwed by our bosses kind of lit a fire under me.”
The strike got significant national attention especially when the union prevailed, winning salary increases and staving off an expansion to a two-tier wage system that management had threatened. A couple of years later, the company fired him for what seemed like minor infractions; he believed it was potential retaliation. That same year, the railroad unions reached out to recruit him for a run for Senate.
He accepted because the union victory opened Osborn’s eyes to the power of collective struggle. The phrase “opened his eyes” is key; it’s not “awakened,” as he once corrected himself to me, joking that he wouldn’t want to be caught in a sound bite saying he’s woke. Not being woke is part of his independent streak and it comes out in ordinary conversation. Osborn loves baseball, the crown jewel sport of Omaha, where the College World Series is played each year. He did not particularly care for the Cleveland Guardians’ recent name change. “The Indians? I feel like that’s just a part of our history.” The Washington Redskins is another story. “That one might have been a bit much.”
He summed up his attitude about cultural liberalism this way: “I personally want to be respectful of everyone,” he explained. “But you also have to put yourself in the shoes of a guy who works all day and maybe has five minutes to listen to the news and inform himself about the world on his way home to his family. He’s not up on all the lingo.”
Osborn is trying to win over that guy, a composite of people he knows, works with, and believes have been left behind by the Democratic Party in recent years.
THE CAMPAIGN IS A TEST CASE OF AN EMERGING ELECTORAL STRATEGY to run on economic populism in heartland towns and states, while moderating or flat-out avoiding divisive cultural wedge issues. Lucas Kunce in Missouri, a Senate candidate in 2022 and 2024, is another example. To a certain extent, there were hints of that in Fetterman’s 2022 Senate bid.
The main difference with Osborn is that he’s trying to win as an independent, disavowing the Democratic Party label in a red state. Osborn has frequented both Republican and Democratic county party meetings, and is seeking endorsements from both.
There are certain indications that this strategy could work. Some Republicans in Nebraska aren’t as militantly anti-union as the rest of the party; Omaha’s congressman Don Bacon works closely with labor in the state. A year after the Kellogg strike, Nebraska surprised the nation when its conservative electorate passed a ballot initiative raising the minimum wage from $9 an hour up to $15. And as the state with the only unicameral and nominally nonpartisan legislature in the country, voters are somewhat more accustomed to defying the party line.
But there are certain trade-offs that the campaign has to make to balance a left-right coalition.
Sometimes, it feels like the campaign is treating the race against Fischer more like an open Republican primary, trying to peel away MAGA and rural voters who see her as part of the establishment. In line with that strategy, the campaign has attracted at least one former Vivek Ramaswamy staffer, who’s been deputized as a field director.
On the trail, Osborn frequently hits Fischer on border policy, claiming she doesn’t have any intention to address inflows of migrants because she didn’t help get the bipartisan border bill through Congress. But in the same breath, he also attacks her voting record on pocketbook issues. They’re putting scrutiny on Fischer’s vote to break the railroad strike in 2022, and for not supporting bipartisan legislation like the Railway Safety Act introduced after the East Palestine train derailment. That bipartisan bill, co-sponsored by Fetterman and Sen. J.D. Vance (R-OH), Osborn says, is an example of what he means by finding compromises in Washington that both parties can agree on.
On agricultural policy, Osborn is going after Fischer for not supporting reforms to the checkoff, a USDA program that essentially imposes a head tax on small farmers to line the pockets of Big Ag lobbyists. While receiving large donations from meatpackers, Fischer also opposes cattle market reforms that would level the playing field for independent ranchers in Nebraska against giant meat processors like JBS, Tyson, and Cargill.
Courtesy Osborn for Senate
Dan Osborn started work at Kellogg as a mechanic and made his way up the ladder of the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers Union.
Osborn is also elevating some under-the-radar issues like right to repair, which would allow people to modify or fix their own electronic equipment. It’s a big part of his campaign because he thinks it uniquely speaks to Nebraska, where farmwork is still a major part of the economy. Swipe fees, extracted by Visa and Mastercard on merchants for every consumer purchase, is another bipartisan cause he’s adopted.
Some issues he’s staked out smack of triangulation. Osborn cites concerns about “deficit spending,” but what that means if you read the campaign website is that he wants to close tax loopholes for higher-income earners and ease them for small businesses.
While trying to appeal to some Republicans, the campaign also can’t lose more liberal voters in Omaha, where Biden won an electoral vote in 2020. Osborn’s stances on social issues are mixed. “You have to accept that you can’t be everything to everyone,” his communications adviser Irene Lin told me.
He’s conservative on Second Amendment gun rights, but he’s also pro-choice. The campaign is hoping two ballot initiatives in Nebraska this fall on abortion and marijuana, which he favors legalizing, could provide a boost in turnout to lift his candidacy on Election Day.
OUT IN D.C., MOST OF THE AUDIENCES THE CAMPAIGN ENCOUNTERED were less curious about the electoral strategy and more concerned about insider preoccupations like electability.
At one point in the day, Osborn took a meeting with an analyst from Sabato’s Crystal Ball, which puts together election forecasts. These types of analysts are often unseen yet powerful forces in elections, helping to signal what races are considered “lean Republican” or “toss-ups.” That marginal difference can hold a lot of sway for attracting donors.
In the interview, Osborn fielded questions about polling, what party he would caucus with if he got elected, what types of committee assignments he’d seek, and what he thinks about the legislative package before the Senate on military funding for Israel and Ukraine.
The campaign admittedly isn’t as focused on foreign policy, though that’s a bit of a challenge this election year with so much national attention on the war in Gaza. Osborn has indicated support for conditions attached to military aid to Ukraine but not yet for Israel.
“Hamas is a terrorist group and Dan thinks Israel’s response was justified. At this point, Dan is concerned about mounting casualties and thinks America should do whatever it can to assist in bringing about a resolution and resume the long, hard road to stability,” a spokesperson for Osborn told the Prospect. Fischer is endorsed by the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, which has not aggressively spent in the race so far, likely because they haven’t seen it as competitive yet.
On the caucus decision, Osborn usually brushes it off. “I’m like a free agent, we’ll see who wants me,” he says with a smile. “I will do the best I can to fight for Nebraskans, but if they don’t give me committee assignments because of my affiliation then so be it.”
The main overarching question that kept coming up during the D.C. trip was about his relationship with the Democratic Party.
It’s an unusual situation. The Democratic Party of Nebraska is supporting both the abortion and marijuana ballot initiatives, but for the most part has stood down in the Senate race. They aren’t putting up their own challenger against Fischer. They haven’t endorsed Osborn either, nor is it clear that his campaign would even welcome that.
Though the lack of affiliation could be a plus in a year where voters seem disenchanted with both party’s presidential picks, it does come at a cost. Without a party infrastructure, Osborn’s team is working on building a new one. That in part entails relying on reviving a union infrastructure in the state and building out more grassroots organizing outside the union-dense areas.
“There’s a whole apparatus in the state that hasn’t been tapped into for many years and it runs through unions,” said Evan Schmeits, Osborn’s campaign manager.
Despite Osborn’s disposition toward the political class, he felt a tinge of fondness for Washington by the end of the trip. “I like the hustle and bustle of the place, it’s a working town and people work hard here, it’s just mostly not the ones who are supposed to be serving us the people,” he said.
On his final day, he went on a tour of the Capitol, and finally saw up close what might be his future place of work if the long-shot Senate bid goes his way. He couldn’t help but admire the history and tradition of the building, its neoclassical architecture and sculptures. “I’d like to help contribute to that legacy,” he mused.
