Politics or Private Capital?
Not a bad dilemma to have—but an interesting personal decision to make.
It’s not a secret that I’ve expressed extreme discontent with the current direction of this country. The state of our government—our institutions, our leadership, our moral compass—has long surpassed my professional and academic understanding. Constantly living through “unprecedented times” is exhausting. And it’s especially exhausting when you love your country as much as I do.
This isn’t performative patriotism. This is the kind of deep, unshakeable love for the United States that was passed down to me through bloodline and sacrifice. A belief that government is a tool for the people—not a plaything for the elite few.
I began my career in public service. I grew up professionally in state government—on budgets, on policy, in rooms with both parties where the job was simple: get shit done. I’ve seen the power of good governance. I’ve seen firsthand what can happen when the system does work. I know the policy levers that create real opportunity. I know how to find compromise. I know how to work across the aisle.
And I still believe in the power of government to change lives. That belief hasn’t gone anywhere.
But somewhere between the student loan repayment rollback, the stripping of reproductive rights, the continued criminalization of identity, the executive order to whitewash American history, and the complete gutting of federal support for arts and culture… I’ve found myself asking a difficult question:
Do I re-enter the political arena—or do I fight for the soul of this country through private capital?
It’s not a bad dilemma to have. But it is a uniquely American one.
Because what we’re facing today doesn’t feel like politics. It feels like decay.
Federal grants to museums, schools, arts organizations, and cultural centers are disappearing. Book bans are accelerating. DEI efforts are being slashed across public institutions. What we’re witnessing is not just ideological whiplash—it’s a calculated, well-funded campaign to destroy access, culture, memory, and truth.
So what happens when the government abandons its responsibility to preserve American excellence?
You build your own table.
That’s where The Agora Fund comes in.
I launched The Agora Fund not because I had turned away from politics—but because I understood that the fight had shifted. We are now in a cultural war being fought through capital. And I knew that if private money was going to lead the future, then someone with my background—my integrity, my policy expertise, my reverence for culture—had to be at the helm.

Because I can’t stop government overreach. But I can help preserve the soul of the nation through storytelling, patronage, and investment in the creative minds shaping what’s next.
I’m not running from public service. I’ve just evolved my approach.
Private capital, when steered by principled people, can be a force for preservation and progress. That’s what I’ve always done. Whether with $1 or $1 billion, I’ve operated with one question in mind: how can I put kind, strategic, principled action into the world?
If we are entering an era where institutions fail us—where history is censored, where truth is transactional—then I will use every resource I have to protect what matters.
So yes, it’s a strange thing to toggle between C-SPAN and venture decks.
To still take calls from political operatives and think, God, do I have one more go in me?
To open The New York Times and ask myself, Do they need someone like me in this room?
But until that answer becomes clear, I know this:
I am already doing the work.
I am already in the arena.
It may not be elected office. But it is public service.
And it’s only just beginning.
-Nina Orm