Perry Johnson Unleashes $9M Blitz, Slams ‘Pathetic’ Michigan Government!

Paul Riverbank, 1/27/2026Businessman Perry Johnson returns to Michigan’s wide-open governor’s race with bold promises and big spending, joining a crowded field in one of the state’s most unpredictable political contests in years. The outcome will shape Michigan’s direction—and test voters’ appetite for outsider leadership.

Johnson likes to remind voters that he got his start far away from Lansing’s halls: auditing factories, charting spreadsheets, and, according to him, helping pull Detroit’s auto industry off life support. He’s said more than once that it was his business savvy—“quality and efficiency,” as he puts it—that saved jobs when Michigan needed them most. His pitch to voters is just as brisk: if he could untangle industrial red tape, so too can he clean up Michigan's bureaucracy, making government “efficient, accountable, and results-driven.”

The story, of course, isn’t quite that simple. This isn’t Johnson’s first bite at the apple. Not two years ago, he set his sights on the governor’s mansion, only to stumble out of the gates. His campaign fizzled before it began, thanks to a flurry of invalid petition signatures—a technicality, perhaps, but an embarrassing one all the same. Critics snickered, but Johnson didn’t fade quietly. He spent much of 2023 dabbling in a bid for president and, in a turn few saw coming, threw his weight behind Donald Trump, staking out the same outsider identity he now flaunts in Michigan.

Money—always a headline with Johnson—will be no obstacle. He told Detroit News, almost offhandedly, that he’d spend $9 million of his own cash in just two months. In a city where fundraising calls rarely end, Johnson’s willingness to dive deep into his own pocket turns heads and, for some, sets him apart from a crowded Republican field jostling for the same TV minutes and donor lists.

And what a field it is. Familiar names dot the roster: former Attorney General Mike Cox, U.S. Rep. John James, ex-House Speaker Tom Leonard, and Senate Minority Leader Aric Nesbitt. Each brings their own resume—and baggage. The Democrats have their heavyweights too: Jocelyn Benson, Michigan’s high-profile Secretary of State, and Chris Swanson, the Genesee County sheriff best known for wading into crises with a camera-ready smile. Lurking just off to the side is Detroit Mayor Mike Duggan, running as an independent, a plot twist a screenwriter might envy.

Gretchen Whitmer, squarely in the national spotlight these days, is watching from the wings—her second term is nearly done and, due to term limits, there’s no encore. With no incumbent, the stakes have never been higher: this is a rare open governor's race in a state often considered a bellwether, ripe for seismic shifts.

Johnson’s rhetoric leans hard on disruption. “We need to shake up the system,” he said recently, echoing the kind of plain talk that often wins applause but sometimes stumbles on details. One headline proposal stands out: scrapping Michigan’s state income tax. To his admirers, it’s a bold vision for growth; to his detractors, it's a gamble that could blow holes in the state’s budget.

And detractors, to be sure, have lined up. The Democratic Governors Association quickly labeled Johnson “extreme” and “out of touch,” quick to connect his campaign spending and vocal support for Trump to the sort of chaos the party claims would put Michigan at risk for more division and drama. For many voters, these barbs can blend into the noise—they’ve heard similar lines before, from both sides of the aisle.

Yet, Johnson presses on, convinced that outsider energy still sells in Michigan. History offers him mixed encouragement: plenty of CEOs have tried to pivot from boardroom to statehouse, but success isn’t guaranteed—especially in a state where politics often resists easy answers.

This tight, unpredictable contest heads toward an August 4 Republican primary, with the general election set for November 3. The months ahead promise little rest, as candidates crisscross the state, touting big plans, sharpening attack lines, and seizing whatever spotlight comes their way.

If there’s a lesson from the early days of this race, it’s this: charisma and catchphrases might net attention, but Michigan’s voters expect real substance. In a year with no shortage of ambition or money, the outcome is still anybody’s guess. For now, Johnson and the rest of the hopefuls have one clear task—convince an impatient electorate that their vision isn’t just noise, but the new direction Michigan truly needs.

Once again, Perry Johnson is making waves—this time, with a fresh entry in Michigan’s unpredictable race for governor. If subtlety’s your thing, look elsewhere: Johnson has never been one to mince words, and his opening campaign video proved it. Blunt as ever, he stared straight into the lens and declared, “Michigan’s government is pathetic.” For folks who’ve watched Johnson’s public life, this approach comes as no surprise—he's happiest when kicking the hornet's nest.Johnson likes to remind voters that he got his start far away from Lansing’s halls: auditing factories, charting spreadsheets, and, according to him, helping pull Detroit’s auto industry off life support. He’s said more than once that it was his business savvy—“quality and efficiency,” as he puts it—that saved jobs when Michigan needed them most. His pitch to voters is just as brisk: if he could untangle industrial red tape, so too can he clean up Michigan's bureaucracy, making government “efficient, accountable, and results-driven.”The story, of course, isn’t quite that simple. This isn’t Johnson’s first bite at the apple. Not two years ago, he set his sights on the governor’s mansion, only to stumble out of the gates. His campaign fizzled before it began, thanks to a flurry of invalid petition signatures—a technicality, perhaps, but an embarrassing one all the same. Critics snickered, but Johnson didn’t fade quietly. He spent much of 2023 dabbling in a bid for president and, in a turn few saw coming, threw his weight behind Donald Trump, staking out the same outsider identity he now flaunts in Michigan.Money—always a headline with Johnson—will be no obstacle. He told Detroit News, almost offhandedly, that he’d spend $9 million of his own cash in just two months. In a city where fundraising calls rarely end, Johnson’s willingness to dive deep into his own pocket turns heads and, for some, sets him apart from a crowded Republican field jostling for the same TV minutes and donor lists.And what a field it is. Familiar names dot the roster: former Attorney General Mike Cox, U.S. Rep. John James, ex-House Speaker Tom Leonard, and Senate Minority Leader Aric Nesbitt. Each brings their own resume—and baggage. The Democrats have their heavyweights too: Jocelyn Benson, Michigan’s high-profile Secretary of State, and Chris Swanson, the Genesee County sheriff best known for wading into crises with a camera-ready smile. Lurking just off to the side is Detroit Mayor Mike Duggan, running as an independent, a plot twist a screenwriter might envy.Gretchen Whitmer, squarely in the national spotlight these days, is watching from the wings—her second term is nearly done and, due to term limits, there’s no encore. With no incumbent, the stakes have never been higher: this is a rare open governor's race in a state often considered a bellwether, ripe for seismic shifts.Johnson’s rhetoric leans hard on disruption. “We need to shake up the system,” he said recently, echoing the kind of plain talk that often wins applause but sometimes stumbles on details. One headline proposal stands out: scrapping Michigan’s state income tax. To his admirers, it’s a bold vision for growth; to his detractors, it's a gamble that could blow holes in the state’s budget.And detractors, to be sure, have lined up. The Democratic Governors Association quickly labeled Johnson “extreme” and “out of touch,” quick to connect his campaign spending and vocal support for Trump to the sort of chaos the party claims would put Michigan at risk for more division and drama. For many voters, these barbs can blend into the noise—they’ve heard similar lines before, from both sides of the aisle.Yet, Johnson presses on, convinced that outsider energy still sells in Michigan. History offers him mixed encouragement: plenty of CEOs have tried to pivot from boardroom to statehouse, but success isn’t guaranteed—especially in a state where politics often resists easy answers.This tight, unpredictable contest heads toward an August 4 Republican primary, with the general election set for November 3. The months ahead promise little rest, as candidates crisscross the state, touting big plans, sharpening attack lines, and seizing whatever spotlight comes their way.If there’s a lesson from the early days of this race, it’s this: charisma and catchphrases might net attention, but Michigan’s voters expect real substance. In a year with no shortage of ambition or money, the outcome is still anybody’s guess. For now, Johnson and the rest of the hopefuls have one clear task—convince an impatient electorate that their vision isn’t just noise, but the new direction Michigan truly needs.