As Transportation Secretary under Joe Biden, Buttigieg had control over roughly $472 billion in taxpayer funds. With that much cash and a mandate to modernize a crumbling transportation system, you might expect some results.

But instead of upgrading the country’s dangerously outdated air traffic control network or preventing a nationwide grounding of flights, Buttigieg poured $80 billion into diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives.

You read that right: 17% of his entire DOT budget went to what one airline insider described as “woke nonsense” while key safety infrastructure from the Carter era remained untouched.

One former industry executive told the New York Post that when asked about fixing the nation’s outdated air traffic control system, Buttigieg said he wasn’t interested. His reasoning? It would just allow more planes to fly, and that wasn’t something climate obsessed Democrats were interested in—even if voters were.

“He was definitely pushing an agenda,” the source added, saying Buttigieg had “little to no interest” in modernization—even after a catastrophic mid-air collision in January 2025 that killed 67 people. The accident, involving a Black Hawk helicopter and a commercial airliner, was entirely preventable had the previous administration prioritized air safety over DEI grant-making.

So what was Buttigieg prioritizing? According to insiders, his time at DOT was more about photo ops than performance. During a wave of high-profile transportation crises—supply chain snarls, shipping delays, flight cancellations, and the East Palestine train derailment—Buttigieg was often absent, appearing on MSNBC or talking climate change at elite conferences. And when he was on the ground, it usually involved a hard hat and a camera crew.

One report summed it up bluntly: Buttigieg was focused on looking good on TV and “being famous.” Fixing America’s transportation grid? Not so much.

Adding to the criticism was his decision to take a two-month paternity leave from August to October 2021, at the height of the supply chain crisis. A Department of Transportation spokesperson later admitted that for the first four weeks, Buttigieg was “mostly offline except for major agency decisions and matters that could not be delegated.”

And yet, despite all this, Pete Buttigieg is somehow still being floated as a top contender for the 2028 Democratic presidential nomination. With Joe Biden out and Kamala Harris facing historically low approval ratings, Buttigieg has been quietly climbing in early Democratic primary polls. In a recent Data for Progress poll, Buttigieg ranked second behind Harris, tied with California Gov. Gavin Newsom, and ahead of progressive darling Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

Some Democrats see him as a more palatable, younger face of the party—a man who checks the diversity boxes without scaring off the donor class. But behind the polished image is a track record of misplaced priorities, a trail of preventable disasters, and a growing list of critics who say he was more interested in running for his next job than doing the one he had.

The DEI spending spree and the obsession with personal branding weren’t side effects. They were the job, as Buttigieg defined it. The consequences? Deadly.

If the Democratic Party wants to sell Buttigieg as its savior in 2028, voters might want to ask themselves one simple question first: what exactly did Pete fix?