A politico looks at 50

On Feb. 12, I turn 50.

There’s a line from Jimmy Buffett’s “A Pirate Looks at Forty” that has been on my mind lately: “Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late …” It’s a lyric about timing — about wondering whether you arrived too early, too late or exactly when you were meant to.

At 30, you assume you are right on time. At 40, you accelerate. At 50, you take inventory.

I have spent more than half my life in public service — first in the military, where I learned that mission comes before ego and results matter more than rhetoric, and then in the Florida Legislature, where I had the privilege of serving in leadership before stepping away over disagreements about direction and priorities.

Leaving leadership clarified something important: Titles matter less than trajectory. Visibility matters less than durability.

I have lost many battles — some by conviction, some by miscalculation. Both taught me more than the wins.

When I was younger, I believed most political problems were moral questions. At 50, I understand most are structural. Systems drive behavior. Incentives shape outcomes. Arithmetic wins.

Over time, my political philosophy has distilled into two words: math and mercy.

Math means respecting reality. Budgets must balance. Markets respond to incentives. Supply affects price. You cannot repeal arithmetic, and you cannot outvote actuarial tables. If the numbers do not work, the policy does not work.

Math without mercy is brittle.

Mercy means lifting the vulnerable without lowering the bar.

Florida wrestles with housing affordability, property taxes, insurance volatility, infrastructure strain and corrections reform. It is easy to see instability in that list. I see velocity.

We debate housing because people want to live here. We argue about taxes because property values have risen. We reform insurance because capital still believes Florida is worth insuring. Growth creates friction. Stagnation creates silence.

Over the years, I have watched young staffers walk into my office fresh out of college — idealistic and caffeinated — convinced they could change the world in a single Legislative Session. Today, many are building families, leading organizations, buying homes and raising children. Watching them grow has been one of the quiet privileges of my life.

Politics is not just policy. It is people. The interns drafting amendments today will shape the state tomorrow.

At home, I see time differently through my four children. The years feel long in the moment and impossibly short in retrospect. Fifty makes you less interested in winning every argument and more interested in building something that lasts.

The military taught me discipline. The Legislature taught me humility. Leadership — and leaving it — taught me that reform requires patience. Real change compounds. It survives personalities. It outlasts news conferences.

Buffett’s song is about looking back without bitterness, accepting that life rarely unfolds exactly as imagined, and still being grateful for the voyage.

At 50, I do not feel two hundred years too late.

I feel right on time, committed to leading with math and mercy.

Math keeps you honest. Mercy keeps you human. Humor keeps you sane.

At 50, that feels about right.

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Jeff Brandes is a former state Senator, Founder & President of The Florida Policy Project. a non-profit, non-partisan research institute dedicated to improving policy outcomes across Florida’s most pressing challenges, including housing affordability, insurance reform, criminal justice, and transportation. Guided by evidence-based research and best practices from other states and contexts, FPP strives to equip policymakers and the public with rigorous analysis that leads to better decisions and measurable results.