The White House briefing room has a lectern, a microphone, and — for the better part of September — no permanently designated person standing behind it. More than six weeks after Karoline Leavitt's last day as press secretary, President Donald Trump still has not named a successor, leaving one of the most visible jobs in American government vacant as the administration barrels toward November's midterm elections.
The vacancy is not a bureaucratic footnote. The White House press secretary is the administration's most public interface with the press corps, the person who frames the president's agenda on camera, parries hostile questions, and sets the daily message. That role is now being handled through an improvised arrangement of interim advisers and a communications director, while Trump himself has publicly suggested the decision may wait until after the midterms.
Leavitt's departure, announced by Trump on August 12 and effective August 27, was framed by both sides as a family decision rather than a rupture. But the weeks since have revealed something more consequential than a single staff change: an administration deliberately choosing to run without a confirmed voice at the podium during the most politically charged stretch of the presidential cycle.
What Trump announced
Trump announced on August 12, 2026, that Leavitt would leave the press secretary post at the end of August to spend more time with her two young children. He described her as a trusted aide and said he understood and respected her decision to prioritize her family, according to the White House's account of the announcement.
The president did not treat the departure as a clean break. Trump said Leavitt would become one of his top outside advisers and remain an influential voice in the Republican Party as the administration prepares for the November 2026 midterm elections. In practice, that means Leavitt may continue to shape the president's messaging and political strategy even though she will no longer speak for the White House in an official capacity.
Leavitt's final day was August 27, according to reporting on the White House's subsequent communications arrangements. She described leaving as a "bittersweet decision," saying she had concluded she could not balance the demands of the press secretary's job with being the mother she wanted to be to her two young children. She had recently returned from maternity leave after giving birth to her second child.
At 28, Leavitt was the youngest person ever to hold the position of White House press secretary — a distinction that made her both a symbol of the Trump administration's generational shake-up of Washington communications and a frequent target of criticism from outlets that clashed with her from the podium.
A podium without a permanent voice
The most striking measure of the current arrangement is time. The White House went more than 40 days without holding a formal press briefing before a briefing scheduled for September 3, according to local reporting. That briefing was set to take place without a confirmed successor at the podium — a rare situation in modern White House history, where the briefing has traditionally served as the daily ritual connecting the administration to the press corps.
Officials have indicated that Trump might wait until after the midterms before naming a permanent replacement, according to reporting on the communications operation. The White House has not publicly announced a permanent replacement as of September 28.
Asked about the search, Trump said on September 13 that he might have developed a shortlist, but he did not identify a nominee. The comment left the process opaque even by the standards of an administration that has often treated personnel decisions as a matter of personal presidential discretion rather than formal process.
Interim communications duties have reportedly been shared by figures including Danielle Alvarez, a former Trump campaign spokesperson, and Jason Miller, a longtime Trump adviser. Their involvement indicates that the administration has effectively split the press secretary's traditional functions — briefing the press, coordinating message discipline, and defending the president in public — among a small circle of trusted loyalists rather than installing a single named successor.
Who is in the running
Several names have been publicly floated for the permanent role, though none has been confirmed.
Anna Kelly, the principal deputy press secretary, is among those mentioned. Her title makes her the most obvious internal continuity candidate: she has operated inside the briefing operation and would represent a promotion rather than a pivot. But no appointment has been announced.
Steven Cheung, the White House communications director, has also been mentioned as a possible candidate. Cheung is among the officials associated with the administration's communications structure, and moving him to the podium would consolidate the communications and press operations under one figure — an approach some administrations have favored and others have avoided.
The most unusual name in the mix is Scott Jennings, a conservative political commentator and CNN contributor. Trump has said Jennings is "good" in connection with the vacancy, but available reporting does not establish that he has been formally selected or that he is the leading candidate. Choosing a television commentator would fit Trump's well-documented preference for highly visible communicators who can defend his agenda directly in partisan media.
It could also raise questions about the administration's approach to formal briefings and the institutional role of the press secretary. A commentator accustomed to panel debates operates differently from a spokesperson accountable to a daily press corps, and the choice would signal how much the White House values the briefing room as a forum at all.
The midterm calculation
The timing of the vacancy is inseparable from the political calendar. With the November 2026 midterm elections approaching, the White House's communications operation is shifting from governing mode into campaign mode — a transition that typically elevates rapid-response messaging, surrogates on television, and regional media over the formal daily briefing.
Seen through that lens, the delay in naming a permanent press secretary may be less an oversight than a strategic choice. The president's own comments suggest he is comfortable deferring the decision. Officials have indicated a post-midterm timeline is possible. And the interim arrangement — Alvarez and Miller, both seasoned operatives with campaign and communications experience — is well suited to a period defined by political combat rather than press transparency.
There are risks, however. A vacant press secretary's office creates ambiguity about who speaks authoritatively for the president. When multiple advisers share communications duties without a designated chief, reporters and foreign governments alike can struggle to identify the definitive administration position on fast-moving issues. In a midterm year, that ambiguity can be exploited by political opponents and can complicate the administration's ability to drive a single, coherent message.
A different kind of press secretary
Leavitt's tenure redefined the job in ways that may shape whoever takes it next. As the youngest person to serve as press secretary, she became a prominent face of the administration's combative approach to the media. Her departure — and Trump's decision to keep her as an outside adviser — suggests the White House values the political and messaging functions of the role at least as much as the institutional briefing function.
That is a meaningful shift. Historically, the press secretary's core obligation has been to the press corps: to provide information, answer questions, and serve as a conduit between the administration and the public. In recent administrations of both parties, the role has increasingly become a platform for political messaging — a trend that Leavitt's successor, whoever it is, will inherit regardless of their approach.
The current arrangement, with responsibilities distributed among interim figures and no confirmed successor, pushes that trend further. Without a permanent press secretary, the daily briefing becomes optional rather than institutional, and the administration's public communications flow more through interviews, social media, and aligned outlets than through structured exchanges with the press.
Perspectives on the vacancy
The absence of a permanent press secretary has drawn scrutiny on several fronts, though the administration has not framed it as a problem.
Supporters of the White House's approach argue that the president is entitled to take his time, that the communications operation is functioning, and that a midterm-year campaign does not require a formally confirmed briefing-room presence to be effective. Trump's own public comments reflect that confidence: he has indicated the shortlist may be forming but has declined to commit to a name or a timeline.
Critics — including press-freedom advocates and some former White House officials from both parties — have argued that a prolonged vacancy weakens accountability, because there is no single official obligated to face sustained questioning on the record. The 40-plus-day gap without a formal briefing before the September 3 session is frequently cited as evidence that the briefing room's institutional role is eroding.
Both readings contain truth. The briefing has been declining as a news-making venue for years across administrations, as presidents increasingly communicate directly through other channels. But the decision to leave the position unfilled — rather than simply briefing less often — is a distinct choice with distinct consequences for how the White House is covered.
It is also worth noting what is not in dispute: there is no evidence of a falling-out between Trump and Leavitt. The president publicly praised her, said he respected her decision, and kept her in his orbit as an outside adviser. This is a departure driven by family considerations, according to both the president and Leavitt's own account, not a rupture.
What happens next
The immediate questions are straightforward. Will Trump name a permanent press secretary before November's midterms, or will he follow the indicated path and wait until afterward? If he waits, the interim arrangement — Alvarez, Miller, and others sharing duties — is likely to persist through the campaign.
If he moves sooner, the choice will carry its own signal. Promoting Anna Kelly would emphasize continuity and institutional experience inside the briefing operation. Elevating Steven Cheung would consolidate communications and press under one roof. Selecting Scott Jennings would signal a preference for a combative, television-ready communicator with a public political profile — an approach that would likely intensify criticism from outlets already skeptical of the administration's media posture.
Whoever takes the role will inherit a job that has changed. Leavitt's tenure demonstrated that the press secretary can function as a political asset and a media personality as much as an information officer. The current vacancy demonstrates that the position can, for a time, go unfilled altogether — and that the White House can operate without it, at least while the president's allies and surrogates carry the message.
For the press corps, the weeks ahead will test whether the briefing room retains its status as a routine venue for accountability or continues to function as an occasional event. For the administration, the test is whether a decentralized communications structure can hold a single message through a midterm campaign that will demand speed, discipline, and a clear public voice.
Leavitt, meanwhile, remains a figure to watch — not from behind the lectern, but from the outside advisory role Trump has given her. Her influence may prove persistent precisely because it is no longer bound by the constraints of the podium. The question that will define the next several months is who, if anyone, Trump chooses to put there in her place — and whether the decision comes before or after the votes are counted.