Vance's Grandmother Threatened to Run Over His Friends — How One Woman Changed a Vice President's Destiny

Source: Diary of a CEO | Published: 2026-06-18T07:00:08Z

A woman who got pregnant at 13 and never finished middle school pulled Vance out of a chaotic childhood with her no-nonsense brand of tough love, becoming the anchor without whom he says he doesn't know where he'd be.

This woman — pregnant at 13, never finished middle school, married a 16-year-old boy, raised three children through a chaotic and at times violent marriage — would later become the person the Vice President of the United States credits with saving his life: "Without her, I don't know where I'd be."

A Kid Raised in a Revolving Door

Vance grew up in a typical blue-collar family in Ohio. His mother cycled through multiple marriages and relationships. His biological father left when he was very young. A stepfather adopted him when he was five or six but disappeared entirely by the time he was twelve. After that, his mother's partners rotated even faster.

He wrote in his book: "Of all the things I hated about my childhood, nothing compared to that revolving door of 'fathers.' I hated the disruption, and I hated that every time I started to like someone, he'd vanish from my life."

A child psychologist later shared a research finding with him: kids who come out of traumatic or chaotic environments and end up doing okay almost always have an "anchor" — a teacher, a social worker, a grandparent. Vance's anchor was his grandmother.

Grandmother: The Unconventional Stand-In

Vance's grandmother moved from the mountains of eastern Kentucky to southern Ohio to find work and support her family. She had virtually no formal education, but Vance says she played both mother and father — "in a very unconventional way."

Her parenting method was blunt but effective: sheer willpower to drag Vance back on track. She read the Bible five or six times a day, prayed five or six times, devout to her core. Vance says that toughness was necessary — in that kind of environment, gentleness doesn't cut it.

His Mother's Eleven Years of Sobriety

Vance's mother has now been clean and sober for eleven years. But throughout his childhood, she was deep in the grip of prescription drugs and heroin. Multiple serious overdoses nearly killed her and almost bankrupted his grandparents.

Vance's grandfather died when he was just 13. He realized that his grandfather was to his mother what his grandmother was to him — a safe anchor. Once that anchor was gone, his mother's addiction spiraled out of control.

"Drugs take so much from a person. And sobriety has given so much back to her."

An Avoidant Attachment Style Meets Marriage

Vance is candid about being a textbook avoidant in intimate relationships. Early in his relationship with his wife Usha, his first instinct during any argument was: "Fine, let's break up." Usha's response: "That's insane. Why would we break up? Let's talk about this like adults." Vance: "Honey, I don't do rational conversations in situations like this. That's not how my family works."

He never did couples therapy. He tried individual therapy a few times but quit — talking about himself to a stranger made him deeply uncomfortable. What bothered him even more was that therapy seemed to encourage blaming the past, blaming his mother, blaming others, and he didn't want to give up his sense of agency over his own life.

The change came mostly through Usha. She came from a stable South Asian immigrant family, grew up in San Diego, and modeled a kind of healthy relationship he'd never seen before. Vance says if you asked his wife what his biggest problem is, she'd say it's a deep-rooted distrust of people he doesn't know — always assuming the worst will happen. Even in a happy marriage, he'll picture a drunk-driving accident when his wife takes the kids to the grocery store.

But there's a flip side. Having seen people at their absolute best and absolute worst, he actually has a fundamental goodwill toward people themselves. His wife would say his capacity for empathy might be higher than anyone she knows.

Political Opponents Aren't Enemies

This trait — pessimistic about circumstances, optimistic about people — extends into Vance's politics. He says he's never felt hatred toward political opponents. He can sharply criticize the Biden administration's immigration policy without hating Harris.

"My default assumption is that most people are good. If they do something you disagree with, they either screwed up or made a honest mistake."

He believes that if a politician is constantly questioning others' motives, politics becomes agonizing. That observation applies to any field requiring long-term collaboration.

Immigration: Not Hatred, but Speed

On immigration, Vance tries to reframe the debate away from race and toward speed and assimilation. His core argument: social division isn't manufactured by politicians — it's the inevitable reaction when demographic change happens too fast.

He uses a dinner party analogy: invite ten people over, and one of them brings a stranger — could be interesting. But if every guest brings three strangers, the entire nature of the gathering changes. A country is just the scaled-up version.

He emphasizes that his anger isn't directed at undocumented immigrants themselves — "many of them probably don't even know they broke the law" — but at the political system that encourages or tolerates the situation. He also acknowledged, when the host mentioned being called racial slurs as a Black kid moving into an all-white neighborhood, that such experiences should never happen.

The controversy in this position: it theoretically distinguishes "opposing rapid demographic change" from "xenophobia," but in practice, that line is extremely hard to draw.

The Iraq War and an Overdraft on Patriotism

Vance enlisted in the Marines in 2003 on an "open contract" — no specific assignment, whatever they needed. "I just wanted to be a Marine." What drove him was the surge of patriotism after 9/11: WWII veterans had answered the call, and now it was his generation's turn.

He's still angry at George W. Bush. He compares a nation's patriotism to a reservoir: if leaders honestly ask young people to sacrifice, the reservoir gets replenished. But if you lie — intentionally or not — you're draining it. Comparing Saddam to Hitler, packaging Iraq as a WWII-level existential threat — that was a massive overdraft.

"In 2003, over 70% of young Americans said they'd be willing to die for their country. I'd bet that number is much lower in 2026."

The Iran Deal: This Time It's Real

The host was blunt about his skepticism — the president has said "we have a deal" roughly thirty times, usually on a Sunday, and then nothing happens. Vance's response was direct: "This time it's real."

He revealed the basic framework: a term sheet has been accepted by both sides. It includes the immediate reopening of the Strait of Hormuz and removal of mines, Iran surrendering its highly enriched nuclear material and accepting long-term inspections, and the U.S. substantially lifting sanctions to reintegrate Iran into the global economy. Destruction of nuclear material would be a three-way effort between the U.S., Iran, and the IAEA.

Vance describes Trump's diplomatic style as putting previously unthinkable options on the negotiating table. A decade ago, no Democratic or Republican administration could have told Iran, "Give up nuclear weapons, and we'll let you prosper." Trump's attitude: "The old approach was stupid. Let's try something new."

Within the Iranian system, there are three power centers — the political leadership, religious leaders, and the military (particularly the Revolutionary Guard). Two months ago, the American side genuinely didn't know who they were negotiating with. But Vance says that issue is now resolved — all three have essentially reached consensus: 47 years of confrontation should change course.

Israel: We're the Senior Partner

Asked whether he trusts Israel, Vance's answer: "I don't trust anyone." He frames the U.S.-Israel relationship as two different countries whose interests overlap but don't always align. The U.S. is the senior partner; Israel is the junior partner.

Trump publicly called Netanyahu's judgment "very bad" and was furious when Netanyahu launched an attack half an hour before a deal was to be signed. Vance says it's like any relationship — sometimes things go smoothly, sometimes you need very blunt conversations.

Asked what Netanyahu actually wants, Vance said he doesn't know. But he added: turning Iran into a Libya-style failed state is absolutely not in America's interest.

From "America's Hitler" to Vice President

In 2016, Vance called Trump "a cynical asshole" and "America's Hitler" in a private message. He wrote an article in The Atlantic calling Trump "cultural heroin" — makes people feel better but doesn't solve anything.

He says he has to acknowledge that some of his judgments then were right and some were wrong. What makes him "almost embarrassed" reading it now is the line about "no credible military leader supports his plans." The military leadership of 2016 was itself the problem, he says — America hadn't won a war from the '90s through 2016, and Trump's distrust of the top brass was exactly right.

Two things genuinely changed his mind: Trump didn't turn out to be a failed president, and American institutions weren't functioning as well as he'd assumed.

He says the gap between the Trump he sees up close and the media-constructed image is enormous — hospitable, generous, loves giving gifts (even if it's just a MAGA hat or a pin), warm with family. He also thinks Trump's raw IQ is probably among the highest of any president.

The Cost of the Vice Presidency on a Nine-Year-Old

Vance wrote a line in his book that hits hard: "Sometimes I feel like I ruined his life, and I didn't even ask him first." He's talking about his older son, who was seven then and is now nine.

The kid hates the sudden attention, hates being treated differently, and just wants to be a normal child. Vance says that guilt drives a lot of practical decisions — they found a relatively insulated Christian school community and do everything possible to preserve a normal life for him.

Recently, when asked again whether he regrets his dad becoming Vice President, the answer shifted from "absolutely" to "it's actually not bad." Kids adapt. But Vance says when your son tells you he wants the one thing you can no longer give him — to go back to the way things were — that's an incredibly painful moment.

His six-year-old younger son is the complete opposite — extroverted, loving every minute of it. Nature sometimes outweighs nurture.

AI Won't Cause Mass Unemployment, but It Will Cause Mass Inequality

Vance is skeptical of predictions that AI will trigger mass unemployment. He points out that the doomsday rhetoric from AI company CEOs has a viral marketing effect — if people are genuinely terrified of your product, it must be really powerful.

He once believed what he calls an "almost religious doctrine": that the transition from agriculture to industry to services was inevitable, and that factory workers in his hometown lost their jobs to automation. He now considers that narrative flat-out wrong — manufacturing jobs were in fact growing, just not in America. The real culprits were outsourcing and immigration, not robots.

What he actually worries about are two things. First, rising inequality. By the end of the Industrial Revolution, there were far more jobs than at the start, but the rich had become obscenely wealthy — which directly fueled fascism and communism in Europe. Britain and America were the only two countries that avoided both.

Second, surveillance. Quoting a friend, he calls AI fundamentally a "communist technology" — it enables governments and corporations to monitor individuals in unprecedented ways. He doesn't want to see an AI-powered social credit system where you can't buy a beer because some tech CEO's algorithm scored you too low.

Pre-distribution Over Redistribution

On solutions to wealth concentration, Vance distinguishes two paths: redistribution (tax the rich, give to the poor) and pre-distribution (give workers a seat at the table). He clearly favors the latter.

He cites Pope Leo XIII's encyclical — a Christian social-harmony framework for how capital and labor should coexist — arguing that the concept of collective bargaining has deep Christian roots. Trump has also openly expressed interest in a sovereign wealth fund that would give Americans a stake in AI companies. "A Republican shouldn't think that way, but the President doesn't care."

Vance's core concern: if you wait until these companies have amassed trillions in wealth before trying to redistribute, you'll find it's impossible. The poor become dependents of the rich. Everyone needs to be in the game from the start.

From New Atheism to Baptism

In his twenties, Vance became an "angry atheist" — picking fights with religious people, convinced he was smarter than the "hillbillies" who raised him. That brand of new atheism dovetailed perfectly with his life philosophy at the time: climb relentlessly, chase the most prestigious degrees, the highest salary, the most respectable career.

He got into Yale Law School. Won every competition life put in front of him. Then he realized he wasn't actually a happy person, or a good one. He cared about the Yale Law School name far more than whether he was treating his girlfriend well.

He started observing the people around him: the ones he genuinely wanted to be like, the ones who excelled at "the things that actually matter" — almost all of them were Christians. Their faith didn't drive an obsession with success; it drove an obsession with character and treating others well.

Those "rays of sunlight" gradually pulled him back toward faith. First intellectual curiosity, then emotional and practical commitment, and finally baptism — something he'd never done as a child. He now takes his whole family to church every week, even though his wife isn't Christian.

Vance Believes in Supernatural Experiences

Asked whether aliens might exist, Vance said he believes they could. He admitted that after a year and a half in office, he's been meaning to look at the top-secret UFO files but hasn't gotten around to it — too many day-to-day demands.

But what he said next was more interesting: he believes people have genuine mystical experiences. He knows people involved in exorcisms who told him that 99.9% of cases are mental illness — but there's always that small remainder that defies explanation. He's had his own experience. Shortly after his grandmother died, his sister snapped at her daughter, and a lightbulb suddenly exploded. The siblings looked at each other, both thinking the exact same thing.

"The hyper-rational worldview isn't actually completely accurate. There's some very strange stuff out there."