








California state Sen. Scott Wiener built a fake AI chatbot designed to ridicule his congressional opponent's record, and her campaign fired back with accusations of racism and sexism.
hold backWiener's campaign rolled out ConnieChan.ai this week, a parody website it billed as "the world's first AI trained to say no to anything you ask." The target: San Francisco Supervisor Connie Chan, who is running against Wiener to succeed retiring Rep. Nancy Pelosi in one of the most closely watched House races in the country.
The stunt leans into San Francisco's obsession with artificial intelligence, and into the cash advantage Wiener holds over Chan heading into the fall. Federal election filings show Wiener's campaign sitting on more than $1.2 million at the end of June, compared with just over $362,000 for Chan. A super PAC backed by AI company Anthropic, Public First Action, has committed another $500,000 to supporting Wiener, the New York Post reported.
The money gap matters. So does the endorsement gap, but in the other direction. Pelosi endorsed Chan to carry her San Francisco seat into the next generation, a move that gave the supervisor a powerful stamp of institutional approval in a district where the Pelosi name still carries weight.
Joe Arellano, Wiener's campaign spokesman, did not hold back about the purpose of the site. He framed it as a creative voter-outreach tool built on what he called Chan's history of blocking progress in San Francisco.
"No lies were told in the making of this AI chatbot. This is 100% Connie Chan's record of blocking all progress in San Francisco, packaged in an easy to use tool for voters."
Arellano added that the campaign wanted to capitalize on the city's booming AI industry and stand out in a crowded media environment.
"We created ConnieChan.ai to lean into the AI craze overtaking the city and creatively reach voters with a product that stands out, highlights Connie's long record of obstruction, and lets us all do nothing... together."
The Wiener campaign's broader pitch ties the chatbot to policy credentials. Arellano claimed Wiener "wrote the landmark AI safety laws serving as the model for the rest of the country" and contrasted that with Chan, whom the campaign describes as a progressive who has opposed numerous housing proposals. The chatbot appears designed to reinforce that framing, casting Chan as an obstructionist who reflexively says no.
Whether those characterizations hold up under scrutiny is another question. The specific housing votes or proposals the campaign points to were not detailed in its public statements, and Chan has not been quoted responding in her own words.
Chan's campaign spokesperson, Ian Krager, who is on hiatus from Pelosi's congressional office to work on the race, hit back hard. He accused Wiener of being a tool of the artificial intelligence industry and said the chatbot crossed a line.
"If there was ever any doubt that Scott Wiener is bought and paid for by Big AI, he's not even trying to hide it anymore."
Krager went further, calling it inappropriate for a male candidate to fabricate statements in a woman's voice. Chan was born in Hong Kong, and Krager said the chatbot's content carried "racist and sexist undertones."
"We know Wiener is desperate for attention, but it's never a good idea for a man to put words in a woman's mouth, especially when they are falsities fraught with racist and sexist undertones."
He did not specify which elements of the chatbot he considered racist or sexist. The accusation stands as a campaign claim without supporting detail in the public record so far.
Krager also tried to pivot the conversation back to kitchen-table issues, saying Chan would keep talking about lowering costs for working families and standing up to special interests. He dismissed Wiener's stunt as "the tired and trite slop Scott Wiener is offering."
The race to succeed Pelosi has drawn national attention in part because it pits two brands of San Francisco progressivism against each other. Wiener has positioned himself as the candidate of the city's tech and AI sector, while Chan draws on Pelosi's endorsement and a base rooted in neighborhood-level organizing on the Board of Supervisors.
Pelosi's decision to step aside opened a rare vacancy. She had initially declined to endorse any candidate before eventually backing Chan, a move that signaled where the party establishment's loyalties fell. The retiring speaker's own recent health questions, including a fall in Luxembourg that required hip surgery, have only sharpened interest in who inherits her political machine.
Wiener's financial edge is substantial. His $1.2 million war chest dwarfs Chan's $362,000, and the Anthropic-backed super PAC money adds another layer of outside support. For a candidate running against "Big AI" influence, Chan's team has a clear line of attack, but a thinner bank account to amplify it.
The chatbot itself is a sideshow. But it tells you something about the incentives in this race. Wiener's campaign believes mocking Chan's record as an obstructionist is a winning message in a city that has spent years watching housing proposals stall, homelessness worsen, and basic governance grind to a halt. Chan's team believes calling out Wiener's ties to the AI industry and playing the identity card will resonate with Democratic primary voters.
Neither campaign, it is worth noting, is running on anything that would look like fiscal restraint, border security, or accountability for the policies that made San Francisco a national punchline. The Pelosi family's own troubles have done nothing to slow the machine that keeps producing candidates in its image.
Strip away the gimmick and the counter-accusations, and what remains is a Democratic primary where both candidates are fighting over who gets to continue the same governance philosophy that voters outside San Francisco have long since stopped taking seriously. Wiener wants credit for regulating AI. Chan wants credit for standing up to special interests. Both want Pelosi's seat.
The chatbot is clever marketing. The racism accusation is a familiar reflex. And the voters of San Francisco will get to choose between two flavors of the same politics that gave them what they already have.
When the biggest innovation in a congressional race is a joke website, the real joke is on the district.



