Five years after carrying Nancy Pelosi’s lectern through the U.S. Capitol during a violent breach, Adam Johnson is making headlines again with a bold new chapter.
On Jan. 6, 2026, marking the fifth anniversary of the Capitol riot, Johnson, a 41-year-old father of five, announced his candidacy for the at-large commissioner seat in Manatee County, Florida.
He gained notoriety as the “Lectern guy” after being photographed hauling the then-Speaker’s podium during the 2021 unrest.
Johnson pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor charge of entering a restricted building, served 75 days in federal prison, paid a $5,000 fine, and completed 200 hours of community service before receiving a pardon from President Trump alongside other Jan. 6 participants, the New York Post reported.
The issue of Jan. 6 rioters entering politics has sparked intense debate across the nation. Many question whether individuals involved in such a tumultuous event should hold public office. Others see it as a chance for redemption or a reflection of deeply held political convictions.
Let’s rewind to Jan. 6, 2021, when the Capitol was stormed by a mob pushing past metal barriers and Capitol police. Rioters shattered reinforced glass, forcibly entered the building, and some came armed with pepper spray and baseball bats while chanting threats against members of Congress.
Johnson, caught in the fray, planted Pelosi’s lectern in the Capitol Rotunda and mimicked giving a speech, an act prosecutors described as brazen.
His own words at sentencing didn’t help his case: admitting that posing with the lectern was a “very stupid idea” (Adam Johnson, during sentencing). That self-assessment might be the understatement of the decade. But stupidity isn’t a crime, and with only a misdemeanor conviction, Johnson retains full rights to pursue public office.
Fast forward to 2026, and Johnson is leveraging the infamous date of Jan. 6 for maximum attention, filing his candidacy on the anniversary. “Filing to run on Jan. 6, 2026, was not a coincidence and was good for getting the buzz out there,” he told WWSB. Smart marketing or tone-deaf timing? You decide.
Johnson’s campaign pitches him as a “conservative fighter,” railing against local leaders who, according to his website, ignore core MAGA values. He’s positioning himself as a bulwark against what he sees as corruption and misplaced priorities in Manatee County. It’s a message that might resonate with those frustrated by politics as usual.
His qualifications? A psychology degree, which he claims equips him to handle the “crazy people” in politics, and experience in church work as preparation for public service. While unconventional, it’s hard to argue that navigating political drama doesn’t require a certain mental fortitude.
Johnson isn’t alone in this pivot from Capitol riot to campaign trail. Jake Lang, another pardoned Jan. 6 participant charged with serious offenses like assaulting an officer, is running for a U.S. Senate seat in Florida previously held by Marco Rubio. Three others, also convicted in connection with the riot, ran unsuccessfully for Congress in 2024 as Republicans.
This trend raises eyebrows about the long-term implications of Jan. 6. Are these candidacies a genuine attempt to serve, or a way to double down on a polarizing moment? The electorate will ultimately judge.
Johnson’s past boasts—like claiming he “broke the internet” and was “finally famous” while driving home from D.C., as prosecutors noted—paint a picture of someone reveling in notoriety. That’s not exactly the humility voters might expect from a would-be county commissioner. But in today’s political climate, boldness often trumps restraint.
