Pillow King or Political Wildcard? Lindell’s Near-Run Roils Minnesota Race

Paul Riverbank, 12/4/2025Mike Lindell, MyPillow CEO and ardent Trump ally, inches toward a 2026 Minnesota governor bid, filing early paperwork amid mounting legal woes and a crowded GOP field—signaling a potential shakeup for Republicans and raising questions about electability and party direction.

Lindell, now 64, is an inescapable television presence thanks to his pillow pitchmanship. In recent years, though, sleep accessories have taken a backseat to political action. He’s become a lightning rod, his allegiance to former President Donald Trump defining him nearly as much as his product line. The state’s Republican field is already bustling: Minnesota House Speaker Lisa Demuth and State Rep. Kristin Robbins are in, among others, vying for the nomination. And waiting in the other corner, Democratic incumbent Tim Walz, who’s set for another run.

Why hurry with the paperwork before throwing his hat into the ring? Rick Weible, running point on Lindell’s committee, says it’s all about playing by the book. If someone hands over a thousand-dollar check or the campaign orders a set of yard signs without a proper committee, trouble’s not far behind. “It’s better to be covered before the real action begins,” Weible remarked. Should Lindell opt out, winding down the committee would be a minor headache—nothing more.

Speculation about Lindell’s candidacy is turning heads even before he’s officially in. There’s no question that his tight-knit connection with Trump and the loyalty of MAGA-aligned voters could give him a significant edge in the primary. Still, voices across Minnesota’s political landscape question his chances in a general election—especially considering the state’s suburban voters, who often lean moderate. Lindell, undeterred, keeps his bravado intact, suggesting, “If there was someone to win, it would be me.”

Predictably, Democrats wasted little time taking aim at the potential candidate. Democratic Governors Association spokesperson Izzi Levy painted him as yet another far-right contender, lacing a “bitter pill-ow” pun into her statement (no doubt a prelude to wordplay we’ll hear all season). She cast the emerging contest as veering toward chaos among Republicans.

Lindell’s ambitions arrive under a cloud. Legal battles continue to stalk his every move. His insistence on contesting the 2020 presidential results spurred defamation lawsuits from voting machine companies: one case already saddled him with a $2.3 million judgment, another’s damages still in the balance. Add to that a court ruling requiring him to pay $5 million to a tech expert who disproved his security claims, a $778,000 bill owed to DHL, and a separate FedEx suit topping $9 million. These aren’t theoretical liabilities—Lindell admits his finances are in tatters. “I’m in ruins,” he told a federal judge. The hits have cost MyPillow retail partners too.

Within GOP ranks, skepticism simmers. Some party moderates worry Lindell as a standard-bearer could sink chances at flipping the governor’s office. Then again, it’s not like other Republican hopefuls are sidestepping the Trump question; most are seeking an endorsement from Mar-a-Lago. If Lindell dives in, it could shift those calculations, perhaps decisively.

At this stage, it’s a campaign in limbo, the paperwork more a placeholder than a promise. If Lindell pivots, the process for bowing out isn’t complicated. Should he commit, though, his entry would transform what’s already a crowded contest—reshaping fortunes for Republicans locally and, perhaps, in the broader national conservative movement. Only time will tell whether Minnesotans are in for months of pillow talk on the campaign trail, or if this episode fades quietly away.

Mike Lindell, a face many Minnesotans can spot from a mile away—whether it's because of late-night infomercials or his vocal political forays—has nudged closer to entering the 2026 governor’s race. He hasn’t declared, not exactly. On Wednesday, Lindell’s campaign committee submitted the necessary forms to the Minnesota Campaign Finance Board. “About 98 percent sure,” Lindell teased, bidders for speculation still waiting for a true announcement, which he said will come December 11, as if a suspense-drama were unfolding across kitchen tables from Thief River Falls to Rochester.Lindell, now 64, is an inescapable television presence thanks to his pillow pitchmanship. In recent years, though, sleep accessories have taken a backseat to political action. He’s become a lightning rod, his allegiance to former President Donald Trump defining him nearly as much as his product line. The state’s Republican field is already bustling: Minnesota House Speaker Lisa Demuth and State Rep. Kristin Robbins are in, among others, vying for the nomination. And waiting in the other corner, Democratic incumbent Tim Walz, who’s set for another run.Why hurry with the paperwork before throwing his hat into the ring? Rick Weible, running point on Lindell’s committee, says it’s all about playing by the book. If someone hands over a thousand-dollar check or the campaign orders a set of yard signs without a proper committee, trouble’s not far behind. “It’s better to be covered before the real action begins,” Weible remarked. Should Lindell opt out, winding down the committee would be a minor headache—nothing more.Speculation about Lindell’s candidacy is turning heads even before he’s officially in. There’s no question that his tight-knit connection with Trump and the loyalty of MAGA-aligned voters could give him a significant edge in the primary. Still, voices across Minnesota’s political landscape question his chances in a general election—especially considering the state’s suburban voters, who often lean moderate. Lindell, undeterred, keeps his bravado intact, suggesting, “If there was someone to win, it would be me.”Predictably, Democrats wasted little time taking aim at the potential candidate. Democratic Governors Association spokesperson Izzi Levy painted him as yet another far-right contender, lacing a “bitter pill-ow” pun into her statement (no doubt a prelude to wordplay we’ll hear all season). She cast the emerging contest as veering toward chaos among Republicans.Lindell’s ambitions arrive under a cloud. Legal battles continue to stalk his every move. His insistence on contesting the 2020 presidential results spurred defamation lawsuits from voting machine companies: one case already saddled him with a $2.3 million judgment, another’s damages still in the balance. Add to that a court ruling requiring him to pay $5 million to a tech expert who disproved his security claims, a $778,000 bill owed to DHL, and a separate FedEx suit topping $9 million. These aren’t theoretical liabilities—Lindell admits his finances are in tatters. “I’m in ruins,” he told a federal judge. The hits have cost MyPillow retail partners too.Within GOP ranks, skepticism simmers. Some party moderates worry Lindell as a standard-bearer could sink chances at flipping the governor’s office. Then again, it’s not like other Republican hopefuls are sidestepping the Trump question; most are seeking an endorsement from Mar-a-Lago. If Lindell dives in, it could shift those calculations, perhaps decisively.At this stage, it’s a campaign in limbo, the paperwork more a placeholder than a promise. If Lindell pivots, the process for bowing out isn’t complicated. Should he commit, though, his entry would transform what’s already a crowded contest—reshaping fortunes for Republicans locally and, perhaps, in the broader national conservative movement. Only time will tell whether Minnesotans are in for months of pillow talk on the campaign trail, or if this episode fades quietly away.