James Talarico, the Democratic candidate challenging Ken Paxton for a Texas U.S. Senate seat, admitted on camera that some of his past public statements "missed the mark", including his 2021 claim that "God is non-binary", when pressed by CBS News journalist Ed O'Keefe in an interview reported by Fox News Digital.
The exchange laid bare a familiar problem for Democrats running in deep-red territory: a trail of progressive rhetoric that plays well in Austin committee rooms but lands like a grenade in a general election.
Talarico, a four-term Texas state representative, is trying to become the first Democrat to win a statewide race in Texas since 1988. That is not a typo. Nearly four decades without a single statewide Democratic victory, and Talarico chose this moment to explain why calling God "non-binary" and floating the idea of six biological sexes should not disqualify him from representing 30 million Texans in Washington.
CBS News anchor Ed O'Keefe did not ambush Talarico. He told him plainly what was coming. Republicans, O'Keefe explained, were running "a handful of highlights of things you have said in the past," and the interview was Talarico's chance to respond.
The first clip: a 2021 speech during a legislative debate over transgender issues in which Talarico declared, "God is non-binary."
Talarico's defense leaned on theology. He said he was "being intentionally provocative" and explained the remark this way:
"What it means is that God cannot be defined by human categories. The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, says that in Christ there is neither male nor female."
Intentionally provocative. That is Talarico's own description of his conduct on the floor of the Texas House, not a charge leveled by his opponents. He chose the word himself.
O'Keefe then raised another past statement in which Talarico claimed modern science acknowledges six biological variations based on chromosomes, arguing that sex is a spectrum rather than a binary. Asked whether he still holds that view, Talarico offered a partial retreat:
"I know there are two sexes, men and women. I also know there is a very small percentage of people who have these chromosomal abnormalities, and I believe they deserve to be treated with dignity and respect."
Two sexes. That is a notable concession from a candidate who previously framed sex itself as a spectrum. Whether Texas voters will accept the pivot or remember the original claim is the open question of this race.
Talarico did not limit himself to clarification. He went further, conceding error in broad terms:
"There are some statements that I have made that I certainly regret. There are statements that I have made where I have missed the mark. I will be the first to admit that."
But the admission came with a built-in escape hatch. In the same breath, Talarico pivoted to his opponent, Attorney General Ken Paxton, accusing him of selectively editing old footage to weaponize it.
"But Ken Paxton is intentionally clipping my cringey comments to distract from his career of corruption."
"Cringey comments." Again, Talarico's own label. Not a Republican attack ad. Not a Fox News chyron. The candidate himself described his public record that way, and then asked voters to look past it.
Talarico's broader strategy is clear: reframe the race as a character contest. He drew a sharp line between himself and Paxton, declaring, "Ken Paxton has a criminal record. I have a legislative record." He touted more than 60 bipartisan bills passed during his four terms in the Texas House and claimed credit for cutting property taxes, raising teacher pay, and lowering costs for housing, child care, and prescription drugs.
Those are standard campaign-trail claims. What makes them unusual is the context. Talarico is not running in a swing district where bipartisan credentials carry automatic weight. He is running statewide in Texas, where the Democratic Party's leftward lurch has made the brand toxic in most of the state outside the major metro cores.
Talarico also attempted something rarely seen from Democratic candidates in competitive races: criticizing his own party's leadership. He told O'Keefe he has "called out the extremes in both parties, on the left and the right," and specifically said he "called out President Biden for failing to secure our southern border."
That line is designed to inoculate. Border security is the defining issue in Texas politics, and any Democrat running statewide needs an answer. But a single past criticism of Biden, offered without detail, date, or documentation, is thin armor against a years-long record of progressive rhetoric on gender, race, and religion.
The broader pattern among Democrats who find themselves defending inflammatory past statements is worth noting. Talarico is not the first party member to face this kind of reckoning. He was also recently confronted over old tweets in which he called White people carriers of a racism "virus," adding another layer to the pile of remarks now circulating in opposition research.
The question is whether voters distinguish between a candidate who said something reckless once and a candidate who has a pattern. Talarico's problem is volume. It is not one clip. It is a collection, God is non-binary, six biological sexes, race as a virus, all from the same officeholder, all on the public record.
Fox News Digital reported that it reached out to Paxton's office and campaign but did not receive an immediate response. That silence may be strategic. When your opponent is busy explaining his own past statements on CBS News, there is little reason to interrupt.
Talarico framed himself as a fighter for ordinary Texans, telling O'Keefe:
"I am always going to stand up for Texans who are being picked on by the most powerful, most corrupt politicians in the country, and I am going to continue doing that in this race and hopefully in the United States Senate."
It is a populist pitch. But populism requires trust, and trust requires consistency. A candidate who now says "I know there are two sexes" after previously arguing sex is a spectrum is asking voters to believe the newer version. In Texas, where the electorate has rejected every Democrat seeking statewide office for decades, that is a steep ask.
The internal tensions within the Democratic Party over how far left candidates should lean, and how honestly they should reckon with the consequences, are playing out well beyond Texas. Senior Democrats like Cory Booker have openly acknowledged the party's need for new direction, and episodes of members facing accountability from within their own ranks have become more frequent.
In the Texas House, Democratic lawmakers have even pledged expulsion votes against a fellow party member over antisemitic remarks, a sign that the tolerance for inflammatory rhetoric is narrowing, at least when the political cost is high enough.
Talarico's real obstacle is not Ken Paxton. It is arithmetic. Texas has not sent a Democrat to the U.S. Senate since 1988. Beto O'Rourke came close in 2018, but close does not count in statewide elections. Every cycle, national Democrats pour money into the "Turn Texas Blue" fantasy, and every cycle, the state stays red.
For Talarico to break that streak, he would need to hold every progressive voter in Houston, Dallas, Austin, and San Antonio while peeling off moderates and independents in the suburbs. That coalition does not form around a candidate who has to spend CBS interview time explaining why he called God non-binary and suggested there are six sexes.
His legislative record may be real. Sixty bipartisan bills is a number worth examining. But campaigns are not graduate seminars. They are trust exercises. And when the candidate's own word for his public statements is "cringey," the trust deficit is self-inflicted.
Talarico admitted he missed the mark. Texas voters will decide whether that confession came too late, or whether it was ever really the mark he was aiming for in the first place.
