JD Vance is now officially the most liked Vice President in American history
In a surprising turn of events, J.D. Vance, the 40-year-old Vice President of the United States, has reportedly emerged as the most liked vice president in American history, according to a wave of sentiment echoing across social media and select polls. Sworn in on January 20, 2025, alongside President Donald Trump, Vance has quickly captured the imagination of a significant portion of the American public, blending his personal story of triumph over adversity with a populist appeal that resonates deeply in today’s polarized climate. As posts on X proclaim his unprecedented popularity with fervor, the question arises: what has propelled this relative political newcomer to such heights in the annals of vice-presidential lore?
Vance’s ascent began long before his vice-presidential oath. Born in Middletown, Ohio, and raised amid the struggles of a Rust Belt community, his 2016 memoir, Hillbilly Elegy, offered a raw, unflinching look at the challenges faced by working-class America. The book struck a chord, turning him into a cultural commentator overnight and later a U.S. Senator in 2022. His narrative of overcoming a turbulent childhood—marked by his mother’s addiction and his father’s absence, with his grandmother’s tough love as his anchor—mirrors the resilience many Americans admire. Now, as vice president, he’s leveraged that story to connect with voters who feel overlooked by Washington’s elite, a connection that’s fueling claims of his historic likability.
The evidence of Vance’s popularity is most visible online, where supporters have taken to platforms like X to champion him. Posts declaring “JD Vance is now officially the most liked new Vice President in American history” have garnered thousands of likes and retweets, often accompanied by polls—albeit informal—asking followers to affirm their support. These grassroots endorsements paint a picture of a vice president who’s not just a political figure but a symbol of hope for those disillusioned with the status quo. His youth, at 40 making him the youngest VP since Richard Nixon, adds to the allure, casting him as a fresh face in a government often criticized for being out of touch.
Vance’s policy positions and public persona have further bolstered his appeal. Aligned with Trump’s “Make America Great Again” ethos, he’s championed issues like revitalizing manufacturing, securing borders, and pushing back against what he calls “woke” excesses. Yet, he brings a distinct flavor to the administration—less bombastic than Trump, more measured, with a knack for articulating complex ideas in relatable terms. His speeches, often peppered with references to his upbringing, strike a chord with blue-collar voters, while his Yale Law education lends him credibility among conservatives seeking a thoughtful advocate. “He gets us,” one X user wrote, summing up the sentiment that Vance bridges the gap between everyday Americans and the halls of power.
Data supporting the “most liked” claim is trickier to pin down. Traditional polling on vice-presidential approval is sparse this early in a term, and historical comparisons are complicated by the lack of consistent metrics across decades. Modern polls, like those from RealClearPolling, show Vance hovering around a 41.7% favorable rating as of March 2025, with a slight net negative (-3.1 points) when unfavorables are factored in—a figure that hardly screams “most liked.” Yet, his supporters argue that raw numbers miss the intensity of his base’s enthusiasm, a fervor more evident in online engagement than in statistical averages. Compared to predecessors like Mike Pence or Kamala Harris, whose favorability rarely broke 50%, Vance’s vocal fanbase insists he’s rewriting the script.
Critics, however, are quick to challenge the narrative. Some point to his rocky start as Trump’s running mate in 2024, when his favorability dipped post-convention, earning him labels like “least liked VP nominee in decades” from outlets like Newsweek. His past criticisms of Trump—once calling him “reprehensible”—still haunt him among skeptics who see opportunism in his transformation into a MAGA stalwart. On X, detractors counter the hype with jabs: “Most liked? Only if you ignore half the country.” The partisan divide is stark, with Democrats and independents less enamored, often citing his hardline stances on abortion and immigration as alienating.
What sets Vance apart, though, is his ability to turn personal narrative into political capital. His 2022 Top Gun: Maverick cameo, where AI restored his cancer-altered voice, showcased his resilience, winning over even some doubters. His active presence on social media—engaging directly with supporters—further amplifies his reach, a modern twist on the vice-presidential role that predecessors couldn’t tap. Whether sparring with critics or touting Trump’s agenda, Vance has made the office a platform for connection, not just ceremony.
As his term unfolds, the “most liked” label may remain more aspirational than definitive. Historical giants like Theodore Roosevelt or Joe Biden, who enjoyed broad appeal in their VP days, set a high bar. Yet, in an era of fragmented media and tribal loyalty, Vance’s grip on a devoted slice of America—rural, working-class, conservative—gives the claim legs. For now, the raised hands on X and the cheers at rallies suggest he’s struck a nerve, whether the history books will agree or not. Happy birthday wishes aside, Vance’s real gift may be his knack for making supporters feel seen, a rare feat in today’s fractured landscape.
