Abdul El-Sayed, the Democrat running for Michigan’s open Senate seat, loves to call himself “Doctor.” The only problem? According to a new Politico report, the title does not hold up to scrutiny, as reported by Breitbart [1].
Records show that El-Sayed has never been granted a medical license in either Michigan or New York, the two states where he has claimed to practice medicine. Yet he continues to list himself as a “physician” on his LinkedIn profile and repeatedly uses the title on the campaign trail.
El-Sayed, an Egyptian-American Muslim who previously ran unsuccessfully for governor, has turned his supposed medical credentials into a centerpiece of his political identity. In interviews, he has proudly declared that he has “been a doctor” for his “whole career.”
NEW: Michigan Democratic Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed for years has publicly said that he’s a physician — but there’s overwhelming evidence that he’s had no experience as a licensed medical doctor.
W/ @dlippman [2] https://t.co/VE1wHbhr9R [3]
— Adam Wren (@adamwren) May 12, 2026 [4]
That narrative now appears to be unraveling as voters question whether his claims stretch the truth far beyond the limits of credibility.
Politico’s review of state medical licensing databases found no record of El-Sayed ever holding a license in either state. He attended the University of Michigan Medical School and earned a degree from Columbia University’s College of Physicians and Surgeons.
He also completed a doctorate in public health from Oxford University. But attending medical school and being a licensed physician are two very different things.
The report highlights that El-Sayed’s actual experience treating patients appears confined to a brief four-week rotation in a Manhattan hospital at the end of medical school.
During a 2022 podcast interview, El-Sayed himself admitted that “my job was to be the, like, worst doctor on the team.” He even joked that he was “cosplaying a doctor,” a confession that is now coming back to haunt him in this campaign.
Despite these revelations, his campaign insists on defending the embellishment. His spokesperson, Roxie Richner, claimed El-Sayed has “earned the right to be called ‘doctor’ twice over.”
The campaign argues that the candidate’s time treating a homeless patient during his training sparked a deeper calling that led him away from medicine and toward public service. Critics are not buying it, and for good reason.
El-Sayed’s team calls this story an “origin story,” but many voters are hearing something different: a politician caught puffing up his resume.
The Senate hopeful’s insistence on calling himself a doctor, despite never being licensed, raises serious concerns about judgment and honesty.
For someone now asking voters to trust him on matters of public health, regulation, and governance, that is not a small issue.
Back in 2018, when he ran for governor, El-Sayed tried to dismiss similar questions by arguing that there are “a lot of ways one serves as a physician.”
He claimed that the work he does in public health aligns with the “ethos of medicine.”
But an ethos is not a license, and Michigan voters know that someone who has never been legally recognized to practice medicine is not a physician, no matter how inspiring their backstory might sound.
Politico’s findings have amplified long-standing doubts within Michigan political circles about El-Sayed’s authenticity.
His academic achievements are impressive, but his professional record does not support the image he promotes on the campaign trail.
Democrats tout him as a “public health expert,” yet his real-world medical experience adds up to little more than a month-long hospital rotation while still a student.
Some critics note that El-Sayed’s repeated use of the word “doctor” seems designed to project authority and credibility in policy debates, particularly those related to healthcare or the pandemic.
Campaign imagery often includes him in medical-style attire, a move many see as deliberate branding meant to bolster his credentials with voters who trust physicians. Now that illusion appears to be collapsing.
The controversy raises broader questions about honesty in political self-promotion. If a candidate cannot be straightforward about his own professional background, how can voters expect honesty about policy positions or promises?
Americans have seen this pattern before from Democrats who exaggerate résumés or fabricate personal narratives for political advantage.
El-Sayed could have used his real academic achievements to illustrate his commitment to public health without misrepresentation.
Instead, his insistence on posing as a licensed doctor has opened him up to damaging scrutiny at the worst possible time.
With Michigan’s Democratic establishment already facing headwinds heading into the next election cycle, this story will not help their cause.
As for his defense that treating one patient inspired his political path, it only adds to the oddity of the narrative. Most legitimate physicians start practicing medicine after earning their license.
El-Sayed’s version of “physician” seems to exist mostly on paper and social media profiles, not in any hospital or clinic where he ever held responsibility for patients.
The moral of the story appears simple: when a politician tells you who they are, it helps to check the records. In El-Sayed’s case, the records speak loudly, and they do not spell “doctor.”
Michigan voters have every reason to ask why a Senate candidate cannot be straight about something as basic as his professional background.