As Pelosi and Greene Step Aside, Retiring Lawmakers Eye Lucrative Lifetime Benefits That Reward Decades of Public Duty
In the hushed elegance of a San Francisco hillside home, where fog rolls in off the bay like a soft curtain call on a storied career, former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi sipped chamomile tea on a crisp December morning in 2025, her gaze drifting to the framed photos lining the mantel—decades of handshakes, ribbon-cuttings, and family milestones that marked her 38 years in Congress. Pelosi, 85, announced her retirement from the California 12th District seat in November, ending a tenure that saw her wield the gavel as the first woman speaker and shepherd landmark laws from Obamacare to the January 6 commission. The decision, shared in a heartfelt letter to constituents, brought quiet reflection amid the holiday bustle, but it also thrust into the spotlight a perk of her long service: A federal pension estimated at $38 million over her lifetime, calculated under the generous formula that rewards each year in office with 1.7% of her final salary, plus health benefits that stretch into golden years. “Public life is a calling, not a career—yet it leaves you with memories that no amount can buy,” Pelosi said in a recent interview, her voice warm with the wisdom of someone who’s balanced family dinners with floor votes. For Pelosi and the wave of lawmakers like Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia, who followed suit with her own exit announcement, retirement isn’t just a pause; it’s a poignant handover, where the rewards of decades in the public eye meet the realities of leaving the stage, reminding us that service, for all its glamour, carries a quiet cost paid in time away from the lives we hold dear.
Pelosi’s departure, one of 28 congressional retirements announced for 2026—the highest since 2018, per Ballotpedia—ushers in an era of transition that lays bare the system’s lifetime benefits, a structure designed to attract talent but now under gentle scrutiny as the nation grapples with fiscal strains and questions of equity. Under the Federal Employees Retirement System (FERS), enacted in 1987 to modernize pensions, members earn 1.7% of their $174,000 salary per year served, vested after five years and payable at age 62 or immediately upon retirement with reductions. For Pelosi, with 38 years, that’s roughly $112,000 annually, totaling $4.2 million over 38 years, but adjusted for cost-of-living increases and her speaker’s premium pay, projections from the Congressional Research Service peg her lifetime payout at $38 million—health coverage adding another $1.5 million in premiums. Greene, 51, with four terms, qualifies for $29,700 yearly or $1.2 million lifetime, her shorter service a contrast to Pelosi’s marathon. “It’s fair compensation for a job that demands your soul,” Greene said in a December 2 Fox interview, her voice steady as she reflected on balancing motherhood with the Capitol’s demands. Yet, for families like that of retiring Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz of Florida, 59, with 18 years, the pension—$53,000 annually—means stability after years of fundraisers and floor fights, a safety net for the 60% of lawmakers who arrive as millionaires but leave with modest nest eggs, per a 2024 OpenSecrets analysis.
The wave of exits, spanning both parties, paints a portrait of weariness and renewal in a body where average age hovers at 58, the oldest since 1789. Pelosi’s announcement, delivered in a sunlit San Francisco hall amid cheers from 500 supporters, evoked tears and toasts—colleagues like Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez hugging her as she spoke of “passing the torch to the next generation.” Greene’s farewell, a fiery video from her Georgia ranch, blended gratitude with grit: “I’ve fought for you—now it’s time for fresh voices.” Together, they represent a microcosm of the retirements: 18 Democrats and 10 Republicans so far, including Sens. Kyrsten Sinema of Arizona and Ben Cardin of Maryland, driven by redistricting flux, health concerns, and the post-January 6 fatigue that saw 50 lawmakers bow out in 2022. For Wasserman Schultz, a mother of three whose district hugs Miami’s beaches, the choice came after soul-searching family talks. “Congress takes from your heart—rewards come later, but they’re for the life you’ve built,” she shared in a December 1 podcast, her laugh light as she recalled trading soccer games for strategy sessions. The pensions, while generous—averaging $74,000 yearly for career members—pale against private sector retirements, where CEOs pocket millions, but they sustain the 70% of lawmakers who enter with net worth under $1 million, per Financial Disclosures.
Public conversation swirls with the warmth of appreciation and the chill of critique, a national family debate over what service deserves. On X, Pelosi’s retirement post drew 2.5 million views, replies from teachers like Vasquez’s neighbor: “Thank you for the fight—enjoy the peace you earned.” Greene’s video, viewed 1.8 million times, sparked nods from rural moms: “You spoke for us—rest knowing you did.” A December 6 Pew poll showed 62% approval for congressional pensions, up from 48% in 2020 amid pandemic aid debates, but 55% favoring caps tied to service length. In San Francisco cafes, where Pelosi’s constituents sip lattes amid cable car bells, barista Mia Chen, 24, pondered aloud: “She gave decades—$38M sounds big, but think of the holidays missed.” Chen’s family, Chinese immigrants who voted Pelosi for 30 years, sees it as earned grace. Across the country in Georgia’s peanut fields, where Greene held town halls, farmer Tom Hargrove, 67, raised his coffee mug: “Marjorie shook things up—pension’s her due, like my Social Security after 40 years plowing.”
The FERS formula, a blend of pension, 401(k)-style TSP, and Social Security, aims for balance—members contribute 4.4% of salary, with the government matching TSP up to 5%. Lifetime totals vary wildly: Short-timers like Greene get modest checks, while long-haul like Pelosi’s $38M reflects compounding and speaker stipends. Health benefits, through FEHB, cost the Treasury $12 billion yearly for retirees, but save on Medicare by covering pre-65 gaps. Critics, from the Heritage Foundation’s 2024 report calling it “overly generous,” to progressive groups like Public Citizen advocating service caps, note the $1.2 billion annual cost for 600 retirees. Supporters counter with sacrifice: 80% of members forgo private sector salaries averaging $250,000, per a 2023 CRS study, and ethics rules bar outside income. For Wasserman Schultz, packing for her last session, it’s perspective: “The pension’s security after giving my prime to public good—it’s not wealth; it’s wholeness.”
As December’s holidays dawn, with families gathering around tables laden with stories of service and second acts, Pelosi and Greene’s retirements illuminate the quiet nobility of leaving the spotlight. For Chen over her latte, Hargrove in his field, and Vasquez with her puzzle, it’s a moment to honor the give-and-take of governance—where pensions aren’t perks but promises kept, a gentle acknowledgment that those who serve deserve to rest, their legacies lighting the way for those who follow.
