Dr. Robert Bryan Sloan, Jr. passed away on July 4, 2026.

I wrote this essay in 2004 during the final stages of his ten-year Baylor presidency. I am not certain how it stands up as an assessment of his tenure at BU after all these twenty-two years—but I know it continues to reflect my feelings for him as a man.

May his memory be a blessing.

History will be kind to Baylor University’s 12^th president, Robert B. Sloan. We, the extended Baylor family, will remember his administration as innovative and transformational.

I have a personal recollection of Dr. Sloan, as I elected to take him for both of my required religion courses at Baylor during the mid-1980s. I found him a man of great charm and intellect. He was unselfish with his knowledge as well as his practical advice, and his love for Baylor was contagious. He impressed and inspired me. He was a great teacher. When I came back to Baylor in the mid-1990s (again as a student), I was thrilled with the choice of Dr. Sloan as the successor to President Reynolds.

Over the past nine years President Sloan moved aggressively to establish Baylor as one of the premier universities in the nation. His objectives that emphasized scholarship and research embraced and expanded a strong tradition of academic excellence. He strengthened the Baylor community by constructing an extraordinary university complex fitted to meet the needs of the twenty-first century, and he pushed the institution to explore the meaning of Baptist higher education in the post-modern world. Bravo.

Like any leader who brings momentous change, Sloan faced titanic opposition. His critics charged that he was arrogant, insensitive, divisive, ignorant of Baylor history, isolated from reality, insulated from common sense, a religious zealot (or too liberal—depending on who had the microphone) and certainly on a fool’s errand.

Perhaps there was truth in some or all of those accusations. Perhaps they were unfair. No matter, at this juncture in Baylor history, the merits of those assessments are almost entirely irrelevant. A coalition has formed that spells the end of the Sloan administration. It is what the political scientists call a “revolutionary coalition;” that is, the constituencies within this alliance are not in agreement as to the future of the university, but they are vehemently united in their demand for the president’s removal.

President Sloan will eventually succumb to them and step aside. He will not retreat out of weakness or a sudden realization that they were right and he was wrong—but he will ultimately resign his post because he cannot win this personal fight without Baylor losing. The opposition to President Sloan is so intense and so invested in their enmity for him that they will either win or leave. That is, if President Sloan were to beat back this rebellion, Baylor would lose an essential part of its core constituency—and the institution would suffer irreparable damage.

I have watched Dr. Sloan and admired him from afar for twenty years, and there is one thing of which I am certain: he loves Baylor. He will give up Baylor rather than see it divided by the sword of Baptist fractiousness.

The consolation for President Sloan is history. The new Baylor vision is in place and there is no turning back. His legacy is secure, literally set in concrete and steel. And, over time, his very real faults and missteps will recede from our memory while his virtues will grow in our minds as the seeds of his vision come into bloom. Vindication awaits him at some far off distant point.

We enter into your gates with Thanksgiving.

We praise you and Count our Blessings.

We are grateful for this place of worship, dry on stormy days, cool in the summer, decorated with rich and vibrant color, resounding with beautiful music, and filled with people we love.

We are grateful for 128 years of faithfulness in your name. Grateful for those saints who came before us and built this church as a house of worship and prayer and hope.

You have given us your aid and comfort time and time again.

Our Dear Lord—whose care is for all people. Your judgement is righteous and just. Even so, your bent toward mercy and grace saves us from the depths of our separation—over and over.

Thank you, Sovereign God, for our many blessings—too numerous to count: wealth, power, prestige, love, belonging, agency, and independence.

Thank you also for the sufferings of the present time. For the loss and the want and anxiety that creeps into our lives. For in suffering—and weakness—and our reliance on grace, we may forgive our debtors as you forgive us.

We may love our neighbors as you first loved us. Not because we are righteous. Rather as an imitation of your steadfast love.

Thank you, Lord, for your compassion and forbearance.

Fill us with your spirit of kind and patient strength.

In the name of Jesus Christ,

AMEN.

Some of my favorites (in alphabetical order):

Baseball: a [documentary] film by Ken Burns
Bull Durham
Eight Men Out
The Natural
Pride of the Yankees
61*

My runner-up pick for best baseball picture is A League of Their Own. Penny Marshall perfectly orchestrated this 1992 classic sports tale of "girls playing baseball." Tom Hanks gives the ultimate (but seldom-offered) gift of a Hollywood leading man: the willingness to play a supporting role in order to make a film great. He is brilliant. Geena Davis, for her part, has no problem carrying the film. She swings a heavy bat with great aplomb as Dottie Hinson. Great storytelling. Great excitement. Great baseball.

Despite Jimmy Dugan's famous proclamation ("There is no crying in baseball"), my absolute favorite baseball film is an under-appreciated elegy for a terminally ill ballplayer, which also serves as a lament for a game so distant culturally as to be almost unrecognizable:

Bang the Drum Slowly.

Based on a 1950s Mark Harris novel, the 1973 film (set during the 1970s), tells the story of a mediocre big league catcher, Bruce Pearson, who is diagnosed with then-lethal Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and his relationship with a superstar pitcher, Henry "Author" Wiggen. Pearson and Wiggen are roommates and teammates on the New York Mammoths (think Yankees), but they are an unlikely pair.

Wiggen describes Pearson as "almost too dumb to rag." Expertly played by the very young and virtually unknown Robert De Niro, Pearson is never more than some poor sap who is dying. Happily (for us), he never emerges from his simple-minded fog for some epiphanic movie moment. Pearson wonders why he "got such a shit deal," but there is no facile moment of clarity in which he (or we) understand some greater purpose in the death of this very ordinary man. His friend Wiggen reaffirms the undertone of the film with his less-than-comforting (almost hostile) reply: "Don't ask me questions I can't answer."

The theme of capriciousness is reinforced through TEGWAR (the exciting game without any rules), which the guys play in hotel lobbies, roping in suckers (fans) who are willing to drop moderate sums of money to play cards with big-league ballplayers. Like gods throwing down thunder bolts from above the clouds, they argue with one another over non-existent rules, battling over which one of them will take the pot from the clueless pigeon. Of course, the stakes are penny-ante, and this is an era in which many of the fans still made more money than the ballplayers, allowing us to view our primary characters as charmingly mischievous but not sinister. Initially, the teammates deem the witless Pearson incapable of working the hustle, but Wiggen insists on his inclusion.

Played by Michael Moriarty, Wiggen is as sharp as Pearson is dull. In addition to his athletic talent, Wiggen is "Author" of an autobiographical baseball novel, and his voice drives the narrative as the morbid plot unfolds. In an era in which even stars worked off-season jobs, Wiggen sells insurance. Initially a preseason holdout for the quaint sum of $127,000 per year, Wiggen settles for securing the baseball fate of his friend. Accepting drastically less salary than the hard-nosed management negotiators are probably willing to give up, Wiggen demands that Pearson be attached to him for the remainder of the season. Pearson cannot be cut, and neither one can be traded without including the other in the deal.

Bang the Drum Slowly is a story about a team. "We were not pulling like a club," Wiggen bemoans in the voice over at one point, addressing an age-old dilemma of why so often a group of talented individuals fails to meet its collective potential. The manager, Dutch Schnell (Vincent Gardenia), a Casey-Stengel-like student of baseball and life, chastises the team for being like fingers on the hand feuding with one another over petty offenses and refusing to work together.

Convinced that the unexplained motives surrounding Wiggen's special clause protecting Pearson somehow holds the key to understanding the under-achieving club, Dutch sets out to crack the mystery of the relationship between the luminous pitcher and the "plumb-dumb" catcher. It is a fair question. Even knowing what Dutch does not, we still wonder why Wiggen reaches out to his roommate. But he does. Some of it is duty. Some of it is guilt. Some of it is noblesse oblige. But most of it is the inexplicable bond between members of an athletic team, even more acute for roommates on a professional squad.

When Dutch finally cracks the case and the truth comes out, the team responds to Pearson in a fashion similar to Wiggen's instinctual reaction. The impending mortality of one brings the men together as a team. They unite in protecting, caring and befriending him. Suddenly, Pearson is not too dumb to play TEGWAR. He is not too awkward to take part in their off-field endeavors, and he begins to realize his potential as a ballplayer. As a result of this shared mission, the club becomes a close-knit unit on the field as well as off, gaining confidence and winning ballgames. And Pearson enjoys the best season of his career.

When the illness catches up with Pearson, and he must leave the team, the club goes on to win the pennant without him--but not for him necessarily. The magic of the camaraderie is not permanent. In the winter, after the Mammoths have won the World Series, once again, Wiggen is alone among the erstwhile teammates, in a Georgia cemetery, helping to lower his fallen friend into the cold ground.

Why do I love this film? Virtuoso performances from an amazing cast of great character actors. Crisp, intelligent writing. The film is also funny (much funnier than I expressed in this essay). Like life, the film has plenty of laugh-out-loud moments in the midst of the tragic tale.

On the weightier side, the drama offers a serious examination of the razor-thin line between living and dying, winning and losing, laughing and crying, and success and failure; a difference that is almost always subtle and oftentimes random. An old friend once told me that he loved baseball because, like life, the game is seasonal and extended and offered room for mistakes and redemption. Like life, baseball is also sometimes outrageously vagarious.

Henry "Author" Wiggen's final thoughts on Bruce Pearson:

"He was not a bad fellow, no worse than most and probably better than some, and not a bad ballplayer neither when they give him a chance, when they laid off him long enough. From here on in I rag nobody."

*Originally published on the Bosque Boys blog in 2006.

The SAC motto: "Peace is our Profession" belies the pressure-packed atmosphere that accompanied custodianship of the most powerful and potentially destructive weapons known to man. As a SAC commander, Charles led a life of awesome responsibility and rigorous discipline in which perfection was the only acceptable level of performance. And he loved it.

After spending two winters in Maine at Loring AFB, Charles served as Squadron Commander at Greenham Common Air Base (where he was promoted to Lt. Colonel in 1963), and a year at Brize Norton Air Base, both of which were in England.

Lt. Colonel Yates came back to Barksdale in 1964 assigned to the Inspector General Team for the entire 2nd Air Force, where he would command the flight line at Barksdale. In 1964, due to a “critical shortage” of jet pilots, Charles drew a reassignment to fly B-52s. As the Vietnam conflict heated up in 1969, Central Command selected Lt. Colonel Yates for transfer to Guam to serve as Chief of Command and Control for all B-52 operations in the Western Pacific. The assignment included a promotion to full Colonel and represented a crowning achievement in a career already marked by exemplary service.

However, the fighting in Southeast Asia contributed to a host of tumultuous events and cultural changes back in the United States. The assignment required an indefinite extended separation from his family, and with four of his six children now teenagers, Charles felt the tug of family obligation especially strong during the turbulent late-1960s. After twenty-seven years of national service, and with intensely conflicted emotions, Lt. Col. Yates retired from active duty, and Citizen Yates entered into domestic service.

In addition to his commitment to family, Charles pursued a second career in public education. After working for three years at Benton High School in Louisiana, he took his Master of Arts degree from Northeast Louisiana University in 1972 and moved to Germantown, Tennessee, to work at the local high school in 1973, from which he retired as Vice Principal in 1993.

Active in his church and the Memphis community following his retirement from the military, Charles served in numerous veterans and civic organizations including leadership roles in the local chapters of the Sons of the American Revolution and Sons of Union War Veterans. A lifelong interest and two degrees in history made him a natural for genealogy, one of the passions of his retirement. He joined the Tennessee Genealogical Society in 1988 and spent countless hours unearthing and restoring the fragile threads of kinship that connect the present and the future with the past. Dedicated to national service, community service, public service, Christian service, and service to posterity, Charles Yates leaves a powerful legacy: a model American life.

*Originally posted on the Bosque Boys blog in 2006. Charles Yates passed in 2018. He is buried in the family cemetery in Rutherford, Tennessee, alongside his wife, Janice, who preceded him in death by a few months.

The Constitution as written in 1787 and amended in 1791 does not mention citizenship. Nor does it mention immigration. Article I, Section 8 (fourth clause) gives Congress the sole power to “establish [a] uniform Rule of Naturalization.” Naturalization then and now essentially refers to the process by which an immigrant becomes an American in the formal and legal sense.

Under the Naturalization Act of 1790, the federal government allowed that “aliens,” as long as they were “free white persons,” after a period of two years living “under the jurisdiction of the United States,” may apply to any “common law Court of record in any one of the States wherein he shall have resided,” prove good character, affirm loyalty, and receive court certification—at which point the applicant would be considered a citizen of the United States. All children in the household of a naturalized person under the age of twenty-one years would also be citizens. Moreover, all children of American citizens born outside of the United States would also be natural-born citizens.

The 1790 law codified citizenship based on the implicit principle that American-born children would automatically be citizens.

During the Federalist period, politics roiled the question of naturalization and the residency requirement moved to 14 years and then eventually back to 5 years—mostly driven by speculation centering around the identity of potential citizens and for whom they might vote. Although, in truth, voting requirements were mostly the province of state authority.

Enter the Fourteenth Amendment. 1868.

Designed to solidify citizenship and political rights for the millions of newly freedmen in the aftermath of the Civil War and constitutional emancipation, the Fourteenth Amendment in its entirety added bold words and conceptual extensions to the existing Constitution. But the first sentence alone created a constitutional definition of citizenship for the first time and also an endorsement of the congressional prerogative regarding naturalization:

“All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside.”

Who is an American citizen? Anyone born here—or naturalized under the lawful process—as long as they are subject to the jurisdiction of the United States.

Okay. This may be easier than I was expecting. You are saying everybody born here is a citizen by right: “birthright citizenship.”

Yes. But with unexplained exceptions. The rub is the modifying clause: “subject to the jurisdiction of the United States.”

What does this mean? Who is not subject to the jurisdiction of the United States?

Scholars argue that the drafters most likely referred to diplomats, foreign military invaders, foreign vessels, and, in the language of the Constitution, “Indians not taxed.”

Enter Kim Wong Ark. In a case decided in 1898, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that an American-born man of non-diplomatic Chinese parentage, denied reentry into the United States after a visit to China, in fact, held citizenship rights under the Fourteenth Amendment by virtue of birth in the United States.

However, as Kim Wong Ark’s parents were legally domiciled in San Francisco at the time of his birth, the Court did not consider the issue of unlawful entry into the United States.

In fact, at the time of Kim Wong Ark’s birth, there were virtually no federal laws in the United States codifying immigration. The so-called Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 restricted immigration from China for some but not all (in fact, legal Chinese immigration into the United States increased after the enactment of the law). Not until the Immigration Act of 1891 was complete control of immigration centralized under the federal government. So, myriad moving parts, and the story gets murky, but, in essence, the idea of immigration law (and unlawful immigration) was barely on the radar at the time of the Court ruling in 1898.

However, even as various Acts of Congress fleshed out a national immigration and enforcement regime and created the notion of “illegal aliens,” subsequent Acts of Congress in 1940 and 1952 enshrined and perpetuated the birthright principle laid out in Kim Wong Ark.

Image: Lyndon Johnson signing the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 that changed the face of immigration in the United States.

2025. Enter Donald Trump. Executive Order 14160, titled “Protecting the Meaning and Value of American Citizenship,” directed federal agencies to stop automatically granting or recognizing United States citizenship for children born on American soil unless at least one parent were a citizen or a lawful permanent resident.

Bottom Line.

Acts of Congress trump executive orders. The Constitution trumps legislation. Constitutional interpretations may nullify legislation, if properly phrased. But constitutional interpretations also evolve as circumstances and personalities and political cultures and climates change.

How I think the Court might rule (albeit probably 6-3 with powerful dissents and multiple concurrences):

The Court will likely deem the Executive Order unconstitutional as it ignores federal legislation to the contrary and, therefore, set aside the directive. The constitutional precedent that children born in the United States irrevocably become citizens of the United States at the time of their birth—in almost all cases—stands. However, as the Court and Congress carved out exceptions in the past related to the fairly ambiguous “jurisdiction” qualifier, if Congress were to address this issue in the future regarding the fairly recent phenomena of unlawful immigration and birth tourism, this Honorable Court will take the matter under consideration.

God bless the contrarians.

The first assertion is a matter of taste and opinion. For me, Vance exists right now as one of the most talented politicos of the televisual age. At the tender age of forty-one, he brings a first-class intellect, a polished and easy speaking style, a talent for pausing and listening and thinking on his feet, and a coolness and folksy poise that translates into authenticity. He never dodges a hostile venue or a tough question—even as he lives everyday under the microscope and in the crosshairs of the Democratic establishment. He generally bests all comers from Tim Walz to Margaret Brennan to the ladies of the View. He may not be Ronald Reagan or Barack Obama—or even Bill Clinton, but he is in a league with Marco Rubio, Gavin Newsom, Pete Buttigieg, and Zohran Mamdani. And clearly a cut above anybody else on the scene today.

Is he an empty suit? Merely words and no substance? A prevaricator? Demagogue?

Maybe. Separate questions. I tend to think not (on most days). But we level those critiques against every talented politician. We may defer that deep dive discussion for another time.

As for the assertion, as an aspirant for higher office, Vance holds no dramatic advantage as vice president, the numbers tell a different story:

Since 1960, five vice presidents have ascended to the office that is oval: Richard Nixon, Lyndon Johnson, Gerald Ford, George Herbert Walker Bush, and Joe Biden. In addition to those five, four other vice presidents have gained the nomination of their party and run for president and lost: Hubert Humphrey, Walter Mondale, Al Gore, and Kamala Harris. That is, out of fifteen total vice presidents, nine (60 percent) of them either held the high office or won nomination for the most hotly contested and fiercely coveted position in American politics.

For comparison, during that same time in which there were hundreds of state governors in the United States, we elected only four of them to the presidency (Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, and George W. Bush), while two others won the nomination of their party and lost (Michael Dukakis and Mitt Romney).

In a similar vein, during that same period in which more than five hundred individuals have served as United States senators, all of whom believing they were presidential timber, we only elected two sitting senators to the presidency: John F. Kennedy and Barack Obama. Four sitting senators won the nomination of their party and lost: Barry Goldwater, George McGovern, Bob Dole, and John McCain.

Moreover, politics aside, at any given time in American history, the most likely human on the planet to become the next president is always the current vice president. As you surely noted above, two of the vice presidents on the modern presidential list ascended in real time because of constitutional succession (Johnson and Ford), which, of course, strengthens the argument for Vance—even if we did not have an 80-year-old chief executive floundering in the polls and most likely facing a hostile, impeachment-minded Congress during the next term.

Who will be the 48th President of the United States?

In sporting terms, the only betting proposition that makes much sense in the summer of 2026 would be “J.D. Vance versus the field.” Perhaps the shrewdest handicappers might well take the field. But a bet on Vance would not be crazy.

In the midst of his humiliation and desperation, the prodigal son experienced an epiphany: his father’s hired men had a better life than he did. He resolved to go back home and say, “Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.”

He picked himself up and went home to his father.

When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, his father ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son started his speech: “Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.”

But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, “Quick. Bring him clean clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Kill the fatted calf. We’re going to feast! We’re going to celebrate! My son has come home! My son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, but now is found.”

The Gospel of Luke

I have viewed the Parable of the Lost Son through the prism of at least three different life perspectives.

1. As a child, I understood the protection and the power of my father. Fathers are fearless and wise—fully capable of insulating little boys from the cruelties and meanness of the world. When trouble was on the horizon, his face turned to a stony mask of determination and deadly force, intimidating evil doers back into the shadows. Two young punks at the Van Nuys post office, carelessly menacing a citizen with a small child for some kicks, quickly came to understand that the game had suddenly turned sour—and the air was now thick with danger. In the face of his terrorizing scowl, they backed down. What would have happened if they had not?

Later—but not too much. My dad sitting in his big American sedan at the top of the hill with a baseball bat on the seat and his .357 literally strapped to his leg. Absolutely crazy and scary to think back on it now. But no one was going to insinuate that a neighborhood street was not safe for his son to ride his bike. A bad bunch that did not fear the law would understand force. The head of a bullying clan miscalculated. A foolish individual was on the edge of bringing a knife to a gun fight. They backed down. I rode my bike without incident.

Like John Wayne, “he wouldn’t be wronged, he wouldn’t be insulted, and he wouldn’t be laid a hand on. He didn’t do those things to other people, and he expected the same from them.” “If the world was not black and white, why the hell not?”

As a child, I understood perfectly why the prodigal went home. Home was safe. Dad was strong. Dad was powerful enough to save him. The real question: why would you leave in the first place?

2. There was a moment when my dad stopped being John Wayne and became Gene Hackman—still bigger than life and blustering, but now balding, paunchy, and flawed. No longer was he inerrant or bullet proof. His black and white world suddenly turned upside down. He was now confused and battered, flat-out wrong sometimes—but still counter-punching and looking desperately for vindication.

As a young man, I understood why the prodigal left. It was time to make your mark outside of the old man’s shadow. Too much advice—not all of it good, really. Too much pessimism. Too much bitterness. What the hell did he know? How hard could all of this really be?

When I was a young man, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But as I matured, I was astonished by how much he had learned in a just few short years.
—my apologies to Mark Twain

3. I have said this before, but I was born again, again, on 12 May 1999. That is the day I became a father. It was the day I saw the world anew. It was the day I lost control of my life and my emotions, and it was the best and most important day of my life. It was not until that moment that I understood the true import of the story of the prodigal.

The utter sublimeness of the parable of the Lost Son is the reaction of the father. When I think about him looking down that road and seeing his son, I can feel the absolute rapture of the moment. Can it be? Is it really him? How many times, I wonder, had this father seen his son walking down that road in the happy recesses of his imagination? How many times had this father caught a glimpse of someone walking down this road and been carried away with the momentary sanguine hope that it was his son? No, it’s him this time! It really is him this time! This boy was gone. Gone forever. But there he is! Praise God! There he is!

The absolute perfection of the metaphor is that God the Father might actually love us as much as we love our sons. This is the way God feels about me? Wow! This truly is a loving God. Yes. He let me go. Yes. He let me make my mistakes. But there he is, weeping with joy at my return and all is forgiven. It didn’t matter why the boy left; it didn’t matter what the boy did while he was gone. The only thing of real consequence was that the son was back. The strength of that metaphor was completely lost on me before I experienced fatherly love for my two sons. Now it is the most powerful illustration in the Holy Book—the very heart of the Gospel.

An Aside: for me, this is strong evidence that Jesus really was divine, or really had a family somewhere, or someone other than Jesus imagined this parable.

So, my third life perspective on this story, in addition to my added comprehension of God the Father, is the view of my own father as only another father can know him. As a father, I can now fully understand the true power and scope of my father’s love for me.

It’s a love without end, Amen.

I don’t say this nearly enough. Thanks, Dad. Happy Father’s Day, 2009.

*As you might infer, I wrote this in 2009 on my old blog “The Bosque Boys.” My father passed in 2015. I remain grateful for his love that continues to defy explanation in mere words.

I believe in America. America has made my fortune.

I believe in the necessity of liberals and conservatives. The random variation of both sensibilities across the population may well be a biological evolutionary survival mechanism and a blessing to society. “Let there be two cohorts of righteous people. One pushing for change and the other standing athwart history yelling stop.” It is pleasing to view this adversarial dynamic as natural and the way God intended humanity to work through our challenges in an imperfect world.

But, enough of my optimistic gloss, submitted for your consideration, an exercise in dark rumination:

My first political hero was Hubert Humphrey. The year was 1972. I was seven years old. The former mayor of Minneapolis, legendary United States Senator from Minnesota, and vice president to LBJ, Humphrey stood tall and straight as a good man who missed the White House by a whisker. A great American, an anti-communist, and a dedicated Civil Rights champion, Humphrey embodied the progressive impulse that government can and should make life better for people. So much to like. But none of that meant much to me when I first encountered him on a TV show entitled Juvenile Jury in the early 1970s. Quite Simply. He floored me with his sincerity and authenticity.

My second political hero was Ronald Reagan. The year was 1976. He was the former two-term governor of California, former movie star and TV personality, but that was also marginal to my universe of knowledge or interest. Again, as a candidate for president of the United States, his sincerity and authenticity touched my soul. He looked me in the eye through the magic of television and implicitly asked me to trust him. I fell hard. I never looked back. I never had one regret.

Both born in 1911, sons of the Midwest from similar humble origins, Hubert Humphrey and Ronald Reagan came of age during tough times and struggled through the Great Depression. Both enthusiastically embraced FDR and New Dealism. But, for Reagan, in his adulthood, he came to see the laudable goal of the Progressives as impractical, unrealistic, and also sometimes damaging.

“Power is the enemy of Liberty” represented the ethos of the American Revolution. As the “Old Republicans” of the founding era would have warned, a government empowered to give you everything you might need is a government fearsome enough to take away everything you have. Reagan also came to see big government as clumsy—no matter how well-intentioned. Always quick with a joke replete with meaning, he deadpanned: “The nine scariest words in the English language: I am from the government, and I am here to help you.” And, as his friend Margaret Thatcher would later comment, “socialism was fine until you ran out of other people’s money.” Redistributing wealth remains easier said than done—and it eventually stings.

As Reagan said in 1964, “I spent most of my life as a Democrat” (true for me from the ages of 7-11), but saw fit to follow another course.

Increasingly, over time, I came to see the once proud party of Hubert Humphrey as the party of demagoguery and perpetual appeals to the lowest common denominator. As another former Democrat, Jeanne Kirkpatrick, famously said, the opposition too often took the “blame America first” approach. Democrats increasingly seemed short on logic, long on emotion, and dependent on intellectual shortcuts. Too many ad hominin attacks. Too many empty slogans and shibboleths. Too many conspiracies. Too much cynicism. Could every Republican candidate be both below average intelligence and also at the head of a vast conspiracy to impose dictatorial rule on a naive electorate?

For me the Republicans equaled the party of smaller government with well-defined limits. They supported the Constitution as it was written with the ability to amend as needed—not through judicial interpretations but via a prescribed and time-tested process. Reagan era Republicans tended toward liberty: free trade, free markets, free thought, and free association. Reagan era Republicans espoused family values and the American work ethic, welcoming immigrants who were Americans in their hearts but merely born in the wrong country. Reagan era Republicans believed in low taxes, paying your bills, and the virtues of Main Street. From Lincoln to Reagan and beyond, Republicans believed in an opportunity society in which the only limits to success lay in a person’s imagination and capacity for hard work. Reagan Republicans believed America was a good place, a positive actor in world affairs, exceptionally empowered to combat Evil Empires, and embodying peace through strength.

Of course, regarding my dear friends who are Democrats, I wholeheartedly believe they seek to do right as God gives them the power to see right. But, in truth, I have never disagreed more on every major issue that make up my core beliefs. Crime. Education. Free Expression. The Constitution. The Role of Government. Foreign Policy. Equality. Lawfare. Cronyism. Arrogance.

The state of the Democratic party strikes me as sad. Much more disturbing is the transformation of the Republican party over the last 25 years in which the party of Reagan became the party of Trump—but not because of Trump. The raucous and profane NYC businessman with more ex-wives than all the previous presidents combined merely fit a bill of particulars already brewing but not quite articulated in the Republican mind.

We were tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy. Tired of nominating war heroes who lost elections to the newest flavor of cool, supported by a news monopoly installing every Democratic new kid in town as instant celebrities with a manufactured patina of statesmanship and gravitas. Even as every Republican nominee slogged up hill in the mud, subject to a brutal scouring of their life story via the least sympathetic hearing possible.

Hard to blame the Republican faithful for losing faith in the old ways. We spent the 1990s and beyond learning our lessons. The stolid George H. W. Bushes of the world were anachronistic—and, what America really needed, was the vibrancy and moral flexibility of a leader like Bill Clinton. No matter how kind or gentle the vessel, the talking points always added up to the dreaded drift toward totalitarianism. Not surprising that 2016 followed 2012 in which the opposition forces so completely cast the ultimate clean-cut, kindhearted family man with a brilliant smile and a sunny disposition as an evil millionaire with a penchant for putting women into binders, harassing cross-dressing teenagers, torturing animals, and murdering poor people unfortunate enough to work for his heartless company.

I’m all out of faith, this is how I feel

I’m cold and I am shamed

Lying naked on the floor

Illusion never changed

Into something real

I’m wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn

Enter Trump. He was rough and tough, and he made fools of our tormentors. He was indestructible. He said outlandish things and made them stick. He turned the tables. He was a little late. We were already torn. But we couldn’t help but smile. He was worse than them in many ways and proved skillful at beating them at their own game. Out of our defeat and frustration rose up a champion who offered a different path. And we could not resist. It would be fun to win. It would be fun to win so much we might get tired of winning.

We should not sleep on the virtues of Trump. He is charming and funny in his boorish and crude manner. He exudes courage and boldness in all his confrontations, possessing the heart of a lion. He brings charisma and size and so many qualities of a natural leader. Beyond mere bluster and pyrotechnics, he does his share of great things. True, he does not respect or even understand the Constitution—but he clearly loves America. He has common sense and good instincts much of the time—especially if you take him “seriously but not literally.” Like Reagan and Humphrey, in a much more vulgar version, he brings sincerity and authenticity in spades.

He was right to see the folly of international climate accords and passivity in the face of China ascendancy and aggression. He is right to see deregulation and oil exploration as the most potent economic stimuli. He was right to attack the most egregious overreaches of the DEI regimes. He was right to point to a porous border as a threat to national prosperity, security, and cohesion. He was right to worry that academia threatened to so distort American history as to corrupt our shared past as a cultural bond.

And he has been right in his approach to the Middle East. His staunch support of Israel, his vision in the pursuit of the Abraham Accords, his fearless and unprecedented prosecution of Iran makes even a cynical Godfearer wonder whether this person of colossal flaws found himself in this unlikely position of power for “just such a time as this.”

But, of course, there are his enormous vices. Incapable of admitting defeat—he often demonstrates complete irrationality in his actions and reactions to prove himself right. He craves adulation. There are no principles—only initiatives to feed his ego and win the day. He intimidates the voices of restraint in his coalition. He pushes executive authority to the absolute limit. He is likely wrong on tariffs. He has no regard for our exploding national debt. He is not always concerned with our long-term national security. And he surrounds himself with corrupt loyalists way too often.

Too much winning? With a midterm election fast approaching, the polls show deep political vulnerabilities. Of course, nobody wins all the time. Sometimes you are up and sometimes you are down. Not likely that Trump is down for the count. He will come back counterpunching, and he will likely draw blood. If past is prologue, likely there will be something to smile about again soon.

It is often true that the perfect is the enemy of the good. In an era of neo-communists, neo-socialists, neo-fascists, and neo-Nazis, Trump is often the best alternative. In a world of binary choices, borders are better closed than wide open. Better to drill for oil rather than hope for magical solutions to our energy needs. Better to support Israel over Hamas. Better to snatch Maduro rather than sleeping through twenty-five years of Venezuelan provocations. Better to clobber Iran rather than pass the buck on a deteriorating security situation in the Persian Gulf. But we should not confuse that comparison with a good alternative.

We have two parties locked in a no-holds-barred, bare-knuckled brawl—maybe even a fight to the finish—and there are precious few good guys. When Trump fights against the worst inclinations of the Democrats there are wins and losses that matter. But, in a greater sense, we are diminished. There is no party of limited government and Constitutionalism. There is no viable truly conservative alternative.

Battered by decades of imperial presidents, enfeebled by an emasculated Congress, confused by an unrepentant administrative state, and constantly undermined by an elite culture no longer in touch with core principles, the American Republic holds on by a thread. Propped up by the genius of the founders and a two-hundred-and-fifty year tradition of reverence for our institutions of self-government, we remain wholly dependent on a remnant capable of passing the torch to a new generation of leaders.

The party of Hubert Humphrey is gone. The complete dismantlement of the party of Ronald Reagan will diminish us further. In the years to come, a post-Trump political universe will precipitate a great realignment. My hope is the party of Lincoln and Reagan have a booth at the fair.

When you are a disrupter, all problems look like the Gordian Knot.

The bureaucracy is out of control. Bring in Elon and DOGE and use AI to assess, reorganize, and fire everyone.

The economy is stagnant, launch a barrage of thermonuclear tariffs clearly beyond executive authority.

Higher Education is rotten at the core. Shut down the federal gravy train.

Immigration out of control. Shut down the border and use the full force of the executive branch to make life unpalatable for immigrants in residence without permission.

Honestly, it is easy to dismiss Donald J. Trump as merely an unhinged narcissist. Or Chance the Gardener who wandered into a position of power based on a series of comic misunderstandings and demagoguery.

But then he brings peace to the Middle East.

Trump certainly benefits from our cultural moment in which we all suffer from a complete collapse of public trust. We are done with the orthodoxy. “If every instinct we have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.”

The Age of Trump is the Age of Humility for “smart guys” like me who assumed they had all the answers.

Having said that, principles matter.

I stand against cancel culture, previously characterized by the Left as accountability culture and recently hailed by the Right as consequences culture. Short of a threat of violence or the admission of an ongoing heinous act, in general, I do not want anyone fired for something they said on Facebook.

I stand against lawfare. I am against the winning side of a political argument settling scores by misusing their temporary authority to torment the out-party or to neutralize a potential opponent.

I stand against using the power of government to “jawbone” or intimidate adversaries via the power of regulation and licensing.

All these things were done repeatedly by the Democratic Party while in power. In many ways, sustained abuses over the course of decades came to a head in the Biden administration and culminated with a decisive and well-deserved national defeat in 2024.

What was the mandate of 2024? Reform the system. Take steps through legislation, restructuring regulations, and a cultural transformation of the administrative state to make sure all those things were no longer normal or practicable.

Thus far, we are going a different way.

Stay tuned.

On college campuses across the country, there were no electronic calculators, no personal computers, and no cell phones.

We were watching the fifth season of the Andy Griffith Show on CBS. And Bonanza was the number one show on television.

The Dallas Cowboys went 7-7 that season and failed to make the four-team playoff that crowned the Green Bay Packers NFL Champs—it marked the last season before the Super Bowl era.

The Beatles dominated the pop charts in 1965. The Fab Four sang:

There are places I’ll remember. All my life.

In significant ways, wherever we go, we carry with us these places we remember.

God bless our neighbors who have a sense of place.

In November of 1965—in a squeaker of an election—the citizens of McLennan County voted to create a community college district.

So many heroes. The unbridled optimism and energy of Dr. Wilbur Ball, our first president. Senator Murray Watson, our champion in Austin. The dogged determination of Henry Griffin, first chairman of the Board of Trustees.

In large part, the great founding fathers and mothers of MCC are gone and unfamiliar to us today.

But the place they built for us remains, strong and strapping and full of life.

Like the “Ship of Theseus,” even after replacing every plank of the vessel over time, the ship sails on.

Educate and Empower Students. Improve Their Lives. Enrich our Community.

Our Contract.

We are united in our Mission and bound by the things we hold dear.

In this place, we believe in excellence.

Today we celebrate your excellence.

Pressing on every day. Another chapter to read. Another quiz. More concepts and vocabulary to learn. Another high stakes exam. Oh Lord, not another podcast.

But today all tasks are complete. Lift your prize high in the air. Congratulations.

We are proud of you.

We are also proud of our team who supported your campaign for excellence.

Holly Surginer and her crew in Records. God bless them every day but special kudos for those who work so hard to stage this event.

We also salute our counsellors and advisors and success coaches and admissions specialists and IT professionals and library staff who supported you from day one all the way through to your triumphal march this evening.

More than 5,000 faculty and staff colleagues have worked at MCC full time over the past 60 years.

Real People. So many comrades in arms. Old and New.

Our friends Nick Webb, T.J. Waldie, John Spano, Scott Geiger, Alex Shiu, Liz Painter.

The Four Jeremies: Lindley, Land, Leatham, and Lehman.

We are MCC.

The Math Sisters, the Duncan Brothers, the Montemayors, the Mitchells, Dann and Beverly Walker, Donnie Balmos and Mandy Morrison, Ruth Pitts and James Pitts and so many more.

Poor boys and pilgrims with families—and we are all bound for Graceland.

Looking back again. Thirty years ago. Thirty years into the life of this college.

The Year was 1995.

A midway point.

We were watching Seinfeld and Friends.

Number One on the Hot 100 was Gangsta’s Paradise. Taylor Swift was only six years old—but maybe she was already listening to Tim McGraw, who was topping the country charts.

The Dallas Cowboys went 12-4 that season and went on to win their third Super Bowl in four years.

How ‘bout them Cowboys?

In three decades MCC had grown miraculously…5500 students…national titles in athletics…a Police Academy…we were the center of a vibrant visual and performing arts community with a magnificent venue to showcase talent… and, for health careers, MCC had emerged as the heart of education in Central Texas.

Johnette McKown was here. As you know, she serves as the third president of MCC, the consolidator, the peacemaker, the embodiment of quiet strength. Thirty years ago, serving as the “female vice president” (as reported in the pages of our local newspaper), she had been cultivating relationships on behalf of our college for six years already.

Of course, in 1995, Dr. Dennis M. Michaelis, the innovator, the builder, the hard-driving visionary was at the helm. In that year, our student-focused second president, with his sharp eye for talent, hired our colleague and friend Vince Clark.

I won’t waste any time telling you Vince Clark is a great teacher.

If you know, you know. If you don’t, it is not exactly important to our story. But, like our other colleagues named and unnamed, he embraced the mission.

Educate and Empower Students. Improve Their Lives. Enrich our Community.

I will pick on the Vincer because…it is fun. But really I will pick on Vince because like MCC (and John Wayne), Vince Clark is associated with a set of core value statements. A code.

Vince Clark Life Rule #5

“Be Content. Never be satisfied but always be happy.”

Today we celebrate your graduation. Be happy. Appreciate your accomplishment.

Basically, you’ve won the Super Bowl. It’s a time to dance. You earned it. But, when you win the Super Bowl, the clock is ticking. The next season looms. Ask any Cowboys fan, the thing about winning…it don’t last forever.

Tomorrow is coming.

A time to plant.

Vince Clark Rule # 4: “Be prepared. Don’t let anyone outwork you.”

People say good luck is the residue of hard work and meticulous preparation.

Lynyrd Skynyrd said: “Be something you love and understand.”

The Bible says “whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your heart.” I won’t argue with the Good Book or Lynyrd Skynyrd.

When you commit to a cause greater than yourself, you flourish, you prosper, and your success increases the health and welfare of your entire community.

You matter. Your work matters. We are counting on you.

In this place, we believe in belonging.

In 1965 we opened our doors to all members of our community. Chartered during a moment of hope and a new birth of freedom in our nation, MCC quickly embraced our identity as a place for everybody. We cherish that living legacy.

MCC is the sum of all our parts—and taken together represents something greater still.

Tens of thousands of diplomas and certificates from the first graduating class of 12 students in 1967 through this earnest collection of scholars assembled here tonight.

We are MCC.

Paul Hoffman, Paulina Sidwell, Paul Serrano, Paul Holder, and Paula Unger.

We are thankful for our heroes, past and present—and dedicated to the ongoing work they so nobly advanced.

Like the ship of legend, MCC moves forward. In the midst of transformation, we remain a constant, sea worthy and pointed toward the next horizon, strengthened by every person present for every season and renewed by every individual commitment to pay it forward.

Glynnis Gaines, Misty Edwards, Andi Ramon, Laura Wichman, Kayla Willis, Brad Turner, and Brad Christian.

We are MCC.

We find. We improve. We pass it on.

We are grateful. We are hopeful. We are committed.

Vince Clark Rule #3:

“Be calm. Open your eyes, open your ears, open your mind, and open your heart.”

In this place, we believe in communication.

We are all striving to understand—and to make ourselves understood.

Oftentimes words fail.

But the good, the true, and the beautiful transcend. Through art, music, literature, science, and the study of our humanity, we discover who we are. We acquire skills. We discover our vocation. By learning, we come to see how much we don’t know. We learn to pursue the mystery.

We gain wisdom.

Lessons:

Learn from failure. Build upon success.

Earn Trust.

Vince Clark Rule #2: “Be Loyal.”

Make Friendship a Fine Art.

Love Justice. Love Mercy. Walk humbly knowing we are a small part of something beyond our human capacity to comprehend fully.

In this place, we believe in Integrity. The quality of being honest. Upright. Principled. We will adhere to our code even when it is difficult.

We seek truth. Through honest inquiry we pursue our sincere love for increasing knowledge.

We know history as the study of change over time.

Black and white TV becomes color. Rabbit ears gives way to cable and then streaming. The surviving Beatles are now octogenarians. Coolio slipped away. Now we presume Kendrick Lamar will stay relevant for all time.

Unlikely.

And I am not just saying that as a Drake deadender.

The lesson. Change over time.

Dr. Wilbur Ball passed the baton to Dr. Dennis Michaelis who handed off to Dr. Johnette McKown. And, we know, someday, there will be a fourth president of MCC.

But history is also the preservation of our collective past, illuminating who we are by connecting us to our roots, informing our present, and inspiring us to greatness.

Even when we do not understand all the treasures embedded in our collective memory, our past is always present.

Imagine thirty years from today—The Year is 2055.

Maybe we are honoring a 94 year-old Vince Clark. And maybe a 72 year-old Clint Dennard bends down to shake the venerable hand of his beloved teacher, mentor, and colleague. A wink, a knowing smile, and the signature nod. And maybe one of you in this audience will stand with them in that circle and in that moment and remember.

But, regardless—even if no one remembers…

We will still be playing the game he mastered. The place they built, the place we all built, God willing, will still be young and robust unto that day—and our mission will sail on.

In this place, Our Central Core Value: we believe in People. We are a place that serves our community.

Vince Clark Rule #1:

“Be good to others; it is why we are here.”

We love our neighbors.

And Love never fails. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

To the Class of 2025.

This is a year of possibility. You should dream big.

Maybe the Dallas Cowboys will go undefeated this season on the way to their sixth Super Bowl victory in franchise history.

Not impossible.

But perhaps more realistic and within your grasp.

Pursue Excellence. Why not the best? Make Each Day Your Masterpiece.

Be honest and courageous.

And, remember, we are all in this thing together. Take care of one another.

We have given you our all—freely and with joy. We are fully invested in you.

Our achievement over the last sixty years can only be measured by what you do over the course of your lifetime.

Class of 2025.

This is your moment.

We bestow on you our full blessing without reservation.

We believe in you. We are cheering for you.

You are well prepared and capable for the facing of this hour.

Godspeed.

Be True to Your School.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Immortal, Invisible, and God Only Wise.

Thank you for hearing our prayers. Thank you for your steadfast love and faithfulness. Thank you for your patience with our limits—and our struggles to transcend our fears and shame.

We praise you, O God, for every single blessing in our lives—every one of which comes from you.

We praise you for your kindness and mercy beyond measure.

You preserve us in the face of our adversaries.

You extend your hand.

You deliver us.

We call. You answer. You never forsake your beloved creation made in your image.

Thank you, God, for the fullness of life. We are alive and forgiven and overflowing with gratitude.

Strengthen us, steel us, fortify us, dear Lord, as we pray in the way you taught us for the courage to claim your good gifts.

In the name of the Father—and the Son—invoking, entreating, and with a firm reliance on the Holy Spirit dispatched of God,

AMEN.

The Lord is with me.

I will have all I need.

He provides me with a world of natural beauty that comforts me and energizes me and assures me that God is in his Heaven and all is right with the world. He is present. His fingerprints are visible wherever I turn.

God’s holy scripture guides me in the right ways, providing my roadmap to navigating this world and my relationship with God and my neighbors. I am a child of God, beloved by the Most High, and empowered in the name of God, the Christ, and the Holy Spirit.

The world of men may be dark and treacherous—and, seemingly, unforgiving. But I fear not. The forces of evil are strong. But God is with me. God’s protection is total. God’s comfort is sufficient unto the day. God means great things for me. God is love. God is real. And God is with me. I have more than I need.

Leaning on God, accepting God’s love for me, his goodness and mercy and grace and compassion fashion my life story.

God is with me for eternity.

Without a doubt, the absolute nadir of his first presidency transpired when Trump refused to accept the results of the 2020 Election. And “low point” doesn’t quite capture the gravity. In his refusal to concede, he violated the trust of the electorate and dishonored the 231-year legacy of American democracy. I have said it before—and I stand by my proclamation—his behavior during the transition period disqualified him from the nation’s highest office.

Having said that, based on the choice last November, our cultural trajectory, and the potential disastrous policy consequences of a Harris administration, the 77 million Americans who voted to return him to the presidency were not acting insensibly.

Sometimes, oftentimes, Trump actions make good sense. Control the border. Tame an administrative state 85 years in the making. Reduce government regulation and increase the flow of oil to induce economic growth and spread prosperity. Restore the presumption that all men are created equal and rehabilitate metrics based on character for institutions gone berserk in pursuit of equity, restorative social justice, and a self-destructive preoccupation with the collective sins of the fathers.

On the other hand, Trump is erratic. Will we get Good Trump or Bad Trump? On any given day, we cannot trust what he says. While his instincts are clever—and often produce positive results—he seems a person without any bedrock principles.

It is not that the President is exactly disingenuous in his public pronouncements. He likely believes the things he says when he says them. The problem is that they are so often untrue.

“Zelensky is an un-elected dictator who started the war.”

“The world is ripping us off. Tariff policy is a national emergency.”

“We are under attack from Venezuela.”

Worse still. We cannot trust what his people say. They make up data points to buttress his false notions. They obfuscate before the Courts. They vehemently defend points they know to be untrue to support the boss.

Where are we? What is at stake?

To paraphrase FDR, I am a Christian and a republican. I am an American conservative and a liberal in the classic sense, an internationalist and also an American nationalist. I am a proponent of Western civilization and a libertarian in the tradition of the American West. I chuckle at the characterization of RINO—but I gladly cop to “Zombie Reaganism.”

But, more than anything else, I am a constitutionalist. The Constitution of the United States represents a unique and ingenious experiment in liberty and republican government. Reinforced by checks and balances and separations of power and a federalist architecture, written down and preserved for posterity, with internal safeguards and mandates that make up our fundamental law, American self-government represents the acme of human achievement in statecraft.

President Trump neither understands nor respects the United States Constitution. In fairness, he shares a condition acute and rampant among the vast majority of our fellow citizens. Happily, the constitutional structure does not necessitate mass ardor or even general comprehension to safeguard our freedom. In a complicated process, our institutions, the legislature, the courts, the press, the states, and the people wrestle within the arena of American government under the founding document.

Not to say our system lacks drama. Our history often unfolds like a Hollywood thriller, but self government under the Constitution has always surpassed the sum of flawed individuals. The schemes and maneuvers for personal gain, the accumulation of power, and even the well-intentioned but misguided overreaches in aid of the greater good generally succumb to the genius of the super structure. In practice, a mere remnant of Americans intensely loyal to constitutional government wrapped in the founding covenant stand capable of defending the republic.

Are we in a constitutional crisis? Not presently. At least not the one covered in the pages of the NYT. But there is cause for concern.

In the President, the Constitution confers enormous power in one singular person. The Old Joke. Knowing George Washington would be the first president of the United States, the framers vested the chief executive with tremendous authority and responsibility. But they also knew Washington would not live forever—and mere mortals would follow him in the presidency; therefore, they left significant institutional limits on the office.

Over time, we have empowered the chief executive well beyond the natural restrictions eighteenth-century Americans embedded and nineteenth-century statesman accepted. Too much power. Alarmingly, in the ultimate extension of a century-long trend, mostly promulgated by Democrats in the White House from Woodrow Wilson to FDR to LBJ to Barrack Obama and Joe Biden, Trump now occupies the seat of power with little outside restraint. Ironically, long-time proponents of executive supremacy in the benevolent hands of Progressive chief executives, with the advent of the second Trump administration, now see that dangerous trend in stark relief. And, sadly, paradoxically, the modern party of limited government, now ascribes to a cult of personality around Donald Trump, having turned the founding assumption on its head, presently acting as if the current successor to George Washington is incapable of error and will serve as president forever.

Case in point. Immigration. Give the Trump administration enormous credit for addressing a long-term dilemma and achieving immediate success. For the first time in a long time, the United States controls its own border—and all done with a “pen and a phone.” The vast majority of Americans are rightly grateful.

But, step two, cleaning up after decades of egregious neglect, the administration’s deportation regime cuts a lot of corners and lacks a sustainable vision. Of course, to make an omelet you have to break a few eggs. But they dissemble when the truth would serve them better. They rely on novel legal theories and spew contempt for federal courts instead of executing removals via processes prescribed by law. Or, most damning, when necessary to facilitate more efficient and more humane enforcement, they refuse to advocate for new and improved laws through the constitutionally prescribed process.

Our constitutional framework privileges the Article I branch, Congress. But, increasingly, over the course of the American century, Congress retreated and the executive and judicial branches advanced. In our current moment, the national legislature seems incapable of legislation or oversight. The executive branch now legislates via presidential orders and administrative agency regulation, and the judiciary oversees the executive with universal injunctions and acts of national policy issued from the bench in the guise of Supreme Court decisions. In the vacuum created by the primary constitutional branch unwilling to fulfill its natural function, the executive and judicial battle for supremacy.

In actuality, after creeping along for decades, perhaps now reaching a tipping point, this disorder of the branches represents the real constitutional crisis.

In a more perfect world in which we return to balance, the Trump administration could use its electoral “mandate” to set things right. The President could provide leadership, Congress could enact legislation to address long-simmering issues that might last fifty years, and the Courts would find themselves mostly sidelined in the political debate over policy.

But that is not the Trump way. In fairness, it has not been the American way for a long time.

What about the politics? Depending on the economy and the public mood—mostly the economy—Democrats could take back the House and Senate in the upcoming midterm. That change of fortune would thrust our nation into a partisan battle between the branches, which would mean legislative gridlock, but also oversight on steroids, and a near-100-percent chance of impeachment. If public confidence deteriorated enough, you might even find fifteen Senate Republicans who would be willing to do what no other partisans have ever been willing to do in the long history of American government, remove a president of their own party.

On the other hand, at this point, knowing all we know, seeing all we have seen, who would ever count out this president? He is often in the midst of a counter-attack when he seemingly holds his worst position. We are likely to see lots of noise in the polls and all kinds of twists and turns in the political cycle between now and the next midterm and presidential elections. We are always just one emblematic event away from a White House in crisis. Conversely, we are always just a few fiscal quarters of expansion away from “morning in America.” Predictions and straight-line projections are meaningless in the near-term.

Either way, surely the Constitution will survive Trump. His opponents continue to occupy almost all of the commanding heights of national culture. Constitutionalists currently represent a majority of the Supreme Court. We run elections every two years.

A better question: will a defense of the Constitution survive our democracy? The Trump movement overtook the traditional Republican Party of Calvin Coolidge and Ronald Reagan. A true Age of Trump recasts American politics, facilitating a Progressive versus Populist dynamic bereft of constitutionalism and leaving conservatives on the outside looking in. Of course, a catastrophic Trump failure also discredits the conservative opposition—the last best hope for limited government. Will we preserve a constitutional remnant strong and stubborn enough to preserve the republic for another hundred years?

We were constructed to defeat the schemes of ambitious men, but, to paraphrase the Lyceum Address, our apathy and incremental disconnection with founding principles continues to pose the most dire threat to our “temple of liberty.”

June 27 to July 28. A Month in the Life of a Nation. The Debate. The Assassination Attempt. The Republican National Convention and a Veep Nominee. The Disarray, the Suspense, finally, the Stepping Aside, and (a beat) the Passing of the Torch. An Abbreviated Moment of Choosing closely followed by the Presumptive Nominee Rollout and new and extended Veep Speculation. Now the Olympics.

Coming Up. The Democratic Convention and a new Ticket. Then Labor Day: September 2nd. And then a two month sprint.

Can we just take a deep breath? We find ourselves in the middle of a euphoric Kamala Harris moment. So much has happened. We are in shock. We want so many things to be true. But, to understand where we are, we need to let this thing settle and clear our heads. We should know a lot more after Labor Day.

What do we know now that will not change?

Vice President Kamala Harris

Pronunciation Guide: Google tells us VP Harris previously suggested people remember her name by thinking, “comma-la, like the punctuation mark.”

What is good about Kamala?

She is an attractive and accomplished biracial woman with a record of public service who speaks with authority and verve on issues that matter to her base. She seems deftly poised to ruthlessly prosecute the case against Donald Trump. She brings unity and enthusiasm to a party recently in disarray. She brings joy into the arena, along with a sense of humor, a big laugh, and an ability to dance. Her supporters intend to market her as ebullient and intriguing and oddly alluring. The mainstream media will constitute a gale-force wind at her back. And, not insignificantly, she hit the ground running with a great theme song:

FREEDOM. Astute politicians at the highest levels have always integrated “freedom” into the heart of any successful appeal to the American people. Freedom wins.

On a more mundane level, her best policy issues are abortion and her opponent: Donald J. Trump. But, if she wins, she will win on personality and image and, one more time, the power of hope.

What does Kamala have going against her?

The Biden-Harris record. Inflation. The Border. Foreign Policy. The so-called Woke Agenda. Lawfare. The Crisis of Confidence in our Experts. Her intermittent awkwardness. Her perceived propensity to talk in “word salads.” Her “cackle.” Her record as a prosecutor and senator. Her previous statements on myriad issues including fossil fuels, immigration, healthcare, and gun control. The nagging sense that the new kid in town is the same old thing.

The fight to define this presidential candidate relatively unknown to tens of millions of voters rages right now with a white hot passion. Last week many of her detractors applauded Dave McCormick’s Pennsylvania senate ad as “devastating” and the perfect model for a national campaign to destroy her candidacy in its cradle. On the other hand, these hot button issues may well represent a two-edged sword.

CAN SHE WIN? Of course.

Her opposition overestimated her “unlikeability.” In truth, she is a blank slate, an unknown quantity—and even in this first week of her campaign all the previous overconfident assumptions are under assault.

Through a thoroughly modern combination of relaxed regulations, “harvesting,” Zucker bucks, good old fashioned partisan mobilization, and the fear and loathing of Donald J. Trump, a record-shattering EIGHTY ONE MILLION Americans voted for the basement-confined campaign of Joseph R. Biden, Jr. It is hard to imagine how the much more lively Kamala Harris would attract fewer votes under similar circumstances.

To win, the Harris campaign must avoid a discussion of her administration’s policies and any objective assessment of accomplishment. The Biden campaign made that mistake. They tried repeatedly to convince Americans they never had it so good—and failed abysmally.

Is it really the Economy?

The economy is funny. The rich are happy. The poor will always be with us. But, from an “upper middle working class” perspective, we are conflicted. We all have jobs, and, on paper at least, we are making “good money.” But we cannot afford our lavish vacations (even though we still go) and the price of eating out or a bill of groceries is painful. Every repair bill rips a huge chunk out of our flesh. Our monthly credit card bills are high and our savings are not reassuring. Our houses appraise for enormous sums—but no one can buy them. And an upgrade feels just beyond our means because we cannot afford to give up our old interest rate. We worry about our kids. We worry about Social Security and our 401Ks. We worry about our parents and their expenses. Having said that, the economy could be much worse. As it is in most of the developed world. And, regardless of the election of Biden, Harris, or Trump, our standard of living will likely deteriorate in the short term. But, right now, fair or unfair, we are mad as Hell and we mostly blame Biden.

What about the Border?

As a testament to the forces arrayed in support of Kamala, the mainstream media fought ferociously this week to rewrite history, disappearing “Border Czar” from the Vice President’s public resume. For those of us who love words and facts and intellectual swordplay, the pitched battle proved hilarious and exhilarating. But it misses a greater point and exemplifies a Biden administration tendency to obfuscate inconvenient facts. “Kamala was never the Border Czar. Border crossings are down under Biden. The border would not be such a problem if Donald Trump had not torpedoed Joe Biden’s bill a few months ago to relieve the porous border.” Cutting through the sophistry, bottom line, if voters were happy with the border, all the same usual suspects fighting to relieve Kamala of the “inaccurate” label would be leading every puff piece for the New York Times and CBS News with “Border Czar and Vice President Harris….”

Reality. Americans are not happy with immigration and they mostly blame Biden. Solution. With a little finesse, Kamala might actually avoid this hazard. But she must drive straight into the crash with fearlessness. The current administration argument posits that a recent congressional logjam orchestrated by President Trump explains four years of failure on the part of the Biden administration. It is risible—and perpetuates the dangerous image that the Biden White House relies on concocting outrageous lies that only they and their most pliable supporters can believe. To cauterize this issue, President Harris should fire the execrable Alejandro Mayorkas, double-down on humane and serious border protocols via executive action, and reopen legislative negotiations with Republicans in Congress and President Trump—and make a deal.

What about Foreign Policy?

Afghanistan. Ukraine. Israel, Gaza, Hamas, Iran, and the wider Middle East. American voters don’t usually prioritize international relations in presidential contests. But the last four years represents one fundamental embarrassing failure and long-term vulnerability after another. A doddering Biden excretes weakness and indecision and conflicted values with every tottering step across the global stage. Harris must take command and assure “our friends and foes alike” that the United States of America remains “the last best hope” for peace and security and freedom in the world.

YES. I am advocating for a President Harris. Eighty-one-year-old Joe Biden poses a threat to domestic stability and national security as long as he remains the titular head of government. He simply does not possess the energy to fulfill his constitutional charge. For all the right reasons, American vital interests and prudent statecraft, President Biden must lay down the mantle of executive power.

In political terms, a President Kamala Harris is a winning strategy for the Democratic Party in November. If Biden remains at the helm, his ineptitude and weakness casts a pall over every news cycle. Even if the mainstream press returns to enabling his dotage and masquerading his foibles as triumphs, in the same way Americans knew well of his enfeeblement long before the fateful debate, voters will comprehend our national vulnerability and infirmity without being told. They will blame Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party who first foisted Biden on us in 2020, prevaricated about his condition for four years, and then took half measures to remove him from the ticket solely for the purposes of being more competitive in an election.

Biden as president is a drag on the Harris campaign. She loses when the conversation focuses on her record or the the record of the Biden-Harris administration. She also loses when national attention turns to whatever Biden will be doing as president between now and November 5. She can win if she appears presidential and vibrant. She wins as the new and confident reformer for which the American electorate are so anxious. At this unprecedented juncture in our history, a call for reform and renewal while sitting second chair within an administration hamstrung by a failing lame duck will come off as a mockery and a continuation of mendacity. Americans will reject superficial promises ridiculous on their face. Americans want action. Americans desperately want a president. We know Trump. We know Biden. “Give us a preview of who you will be as President.” Only an actual president will bring the credibility and gravitas to wage a fall campaign in full. One last task for Nancy Pelosi?

Can the Donald beat Kamala? Of course.

The fundamentals of this campaign remain virtually the same as the last time. Seventy-four million Americans favored a combination of Trump’s style and the Republican-conservative-populist agenda. In an election in which more than 158 MILLION ballots were cast, Trump missed a second inside straight by less than 100,000 votes—approximately .0005 percent of total votes cast. Given the current lay of the land, given the set of issues currently facing American voters, given the various paths to victory, Trump continues to hold a slight upper hand. But the Democrats are back in the game. Just because the contest is Trump’s to lose does not mean he cannot lose it.

What we know now. Game On. Advantage Trump. With Harris one serve break away from Deuce.

An Appendix of Things that Don’t Matter. Vice Presidential Nominees. Assassination Attempts. Previous Convention Speeches. Fundraising. Court Cases prior to last Sunday. Whether the defenestration of Biden and installation of Kamala felt democratic. Project 2525. Cat Ladies. Conversations about who is “weirder.”

Judge Tanya Chutkan of the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia will soon preside over the criminal trial of former president Donald Trump on four felony charges in connection with his actions during the two months between Election Day 2020 and January 6, 2021.

Based on the indictment filed on August 1, 2023, the office of the special prosecutor alleges Trump conspired to defraud the United States, obstructed or conspired to obstruct an official proceeding of the United States, and conspired to deprive eighty-one million citizens of their right to vote.

Set to begin on March 4, 2024, one day before “Super Tuesday” on the primary calendar, this case brought under the authority of the Biden Justice Department, and presided over by a publicly Trump skeptical judge, will likely resonate with a Washington, D. C. jury. Drawn from a pool of voters infamously and vehemently averse to the former president, most observers expect a verdict unfavorable to the defendant. If convicted on even one of the four felony counts, under federal guidelines, Trump faces the very real possibility of mandatory prison time. As Andy McCarthy notes, if the trial starts on time, and the jury convicts him as expected in May, under the accepted protocol of incarceration upon conviction regardless of pending appeals, Donald Trump could spend most of 2024 in court and subsequently in lockup.

Will this constitute justice?

We make the mistake (me included) of conflating Trump’s appalling conduct before January 6th with the national embarrassment of the Capitol riot on January 6th. I have written repeatedly that J6 disqualifies Trump from another term as president. But that is not quite right. His initial failure to relinquish the presidency following an election that clearly elevated his opponent disqualifies him. His continued disparagement of said legitimate election disqualifies him.

An Aside: when I say disqualifies him, I do not mean legally. In my mind, in my opinion as an American voter and student of the United States Constitution, his egregious conduct makes him a poor choice for president.

Completely Separate and Fundamentally Different Question: was his conduct illegal? I am much less certain his actions constitute a crime. In fact, I am leaning profoundly in the direction of not a crime.

The farcical riot on January 6th connects to his malfeasance mostly before that fateful day—but only as an indirect consequence of irresponsible stewardship of his solemn constitutional obligations. Rather than the culmination to a fiendish plan to maintain power and overthrow democracy, the ugly events in the Capitol on January 6th exist as a parallel but mostly un-orchestrated protest highlighting the dangers of Trump’s narcissism, embroidery, and cognitive dissonance. Surely the chaos of the January 6th melee was not the product of a rational mind—or even the mind of Trump.

Trump did not plot out January 6th. He is an agent of chaos, and the events of January 6 were a chaotic and tragic comedy of errors, but he spent the day as clueless and powerless as the rest of us.

If it is not the denouement of his master plan, how does J6 fit in?

Culturally, the spectacle of J6 serves as a convenient shorthand for all the things we hate about Trump. No. Trump did not really plan the attack on the Capitol. But his incendiary talk over the course of November and December surely provided the fuel for an event of multiple and intricate contingencies that, once launched, seized and insinuated itself into our public imagination and memory. We comprehend beyond a shadow of a doubt that the January 6th riot at the Capitol could NOT have happened without Trump. Surely he represents the indispensable person to this mortifying imbroglio. Had he chosen the prudential path and surrendered to the laws, rules, and precedents of the American Constitutional system—not to mention the facts and evidence pertaining to the election—the melee and the violence that accompanied the foolhardy protest would never have happened.

Of course, such tortured suppositions cannot (must not) serve as the logic of the criminal case against him. Such a leap does not conform with the principles of fair and impartial and equal justice under law we have long cherished. But, I hear many saying, shortcuts will do in a pinch, especially if we are fanatically committed to averting a disastrous outcome: the re-elevation of Donald Trump as president of the United States. And, most likely, such distorted logic of justice will suffice for the jury empaneled in the matter of the United States of America versus Donald J. Trump.

What Really Happened on January 6th?

There are two insane alternative and opposing theories afoot in our national conversation. One has Trump at the center of a vast conspiracy to thwart democracy, calling the shots as his army of flag-waving racists stormed the Capitol intent on killing Mike Pence, Nancy Pelosi, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and installing the Donald as dictator for life. The other explanation blames the embarrassment of January 6th on the political opposition. Federal agents of the deep state lured good American patriots defending the Constitution into illegal conduct. In some versions, Antifa, masquerading as Trump loyalists, committed the violence and absconded leaving the hapless good guys defending fair elections holding the bag. Meanwhile, for good measure, as cover for the dirty deeds done by nefarious parties, at the behest of the Speaker and her cohort of diabolical Democrats, the Capitol Police ingeniously waved the protesters into the Capitol to serve as fall guys.

Unconvincing. The riot was NOT a deep state conspiracy or a false flag operation.

I am skeptical of the most common narratives in the ways I have always been. What really happened? A bunch of goofballs got out of hand. And some of it was, indeed, sinister. Much of it was brutal. The brutality mostly comes from a small group of anarchist trouble makers who took advantage of the chaos to wreak havoc. What are you rebelling against? Whatta you got?

The vast majority of participants in the “mostly peaceful” demonstration came to Washington to protest a stolen election. Why? Sadly, tragically, they put their faith in a charlatan who assured them “our democracy” was in peril. Most of the people on the mall on January 6th came to cheer and laugh and boo and jeer and wave flags and sing patriotic songs and Christian hymns. In large part, their treatment by the mainstream media, the courts, and partisans of all stripes has been disproportionate, distorted, disingenuous, and entirely driven by politics to make convenient points. And the mass incarceration, the wholesale and systematic prosecutions of over 1,000 American citizens, all done with partisan glee and in the darkness of a mainstream media blackout, surely rendered many instances of injustice.

Of course, anyone who struck a police officer deserves prison time. The cohort of lawless and destructive agitators and instigators merit no sympathy. For the unfortunate, unarmed soul shot dead by a Capitol Police officer for refusing to comply with a lawful command, I do have sympathy. But her conduct sealed her wretched fate. When a peace officer trains a firearm on your person and beckons you to comply, you will comply or risk the most dire consequences of defiance. Her name was Ashli Babbitt, and her death was a tragic, unnecessary, and disproportionate loss of life. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she was there of her own volition. And her unfortunate decisions made in an instant of frenzy brought her into the path of a bullet fired “lawfully and within departmental policy.” Only the cruelest observer would say Ashli Babbitt got what she deserved. Surely Ashli Babbitt deserved a long and happy life with all the blessings promised by a loving and gracious God. But, in a world of human agency and free will, she made a series of foolish choices that made her vulnerable to an entire menu of horrible consequences—and, unhappily, she found herself on the very extreme end of the spectrum of worst-case possible outcomes.

May God rest her soul.

What really happened? Aside from the dead-enders, the lunatics, and the most unhinged anarchists, for the most part, a bunch of well-meaning dumbasses got out of hand and perpetuated a really foolish and misguided violent protest.

Crazy, random things happen in life. The Perfect Storm.

We have uncovered no evidence that Donald Trump or any of his minions (official or clandestine) organized and planned the almost comically unorganized and unplanned January 6th “attack.” Significantly, the violence of the Capitol riot served no role in Trump’s plan to set aside the election. In fact, ironically, the unintended consequence of the violence marked the dramatic and unambiguous end of the Trump campaign to “stop the steal.” That is, the uncoordinated January 6th Capitol Riot broke the spell of the Donald for just enough time to finalize the election without opposition. Not that it was ever going anywhere anyway, but, by the end of the evening of January 6th, everyone in Washington, including Trump, conceded the election to Joe Biden.

What Else? Why Do We Need a PART TWO? I am thinking about a few things: What is going to happen between now and Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina? Trump is now the prohibitive favorite to win the GOP nomination. Are there any other possibilities? What is going to happen if Trump gets the nod and faces Joe Biden? What options do the Democrats have if they find themselves eight points behind in national election polls next summer? A lot actually. Will Trump go to jail? Can Trump win from jail? If, as your correspondent claims, Trump has disqualified himself from the office, are there circumstances in which a reasonable person could vote for him for president? What would Trump-47 look like, if he overcame all the obstacles? Would he really be a dictator?

Stay Tuned.

A Capstone Essay for My Great Migration Trilogy.

As you may recall, a few months ago, after belatedly reading Isabel Wilkerson’s the Warmth of Other Suns, so moved by her masterful storytelling and character development, I determined to comment on her contribution. Almost immediately, I found myself interweaving my family stories with her narrative. As my reaction grew more unwieldy, as I found I had more to say, I determined to break this novella-size response into three smaller posts with an afterword:

PART ONE. The Warmth of Other Suns.

PART TWO. “Play That Funky Music, White Boy.”

PART TWO. “A Little Town with a Big Heart.”

Not too long ago, Spencer Klavan, with a hat tip to Cicero, asserted that great art does three things: it delights, instructs, and moves us. Moreover, great art delights us because it teaches us; it teaches us because it moves us; and it moves us because it delights us.

Wilkerson’s masterwork did all three.

Great art also reaches out and demands a response.

Great art provokes us to engage in a way that enriches and widens the humanity of both the observer and the subject.

Can we truly understand another person’s “lived experience”?

At the risk of employing a straw man, I think I hear some folks castigating such notions as privileged and paternalistic—and maybe even malevolent. I take the point. We are all unique individuals who defy a false empathy or “whitesplaining” based on crude stereotypes and overly broad generic thinking. My kitchen fire does not equal your tragic wildfire catastrophe. The myriad intricacies and contingencies of any single human life limit our full understanding. But such verities cannot contain the whole truth.

Great art questions, investigates, and reveals something we had not previously considered. The contemporary sanction to stand aside and not interrogate a person’s lived experience represents a preposterous and unconscionable dead end. If I cannot know you, it logically follows that you cannot know me. Why bother? If this is true, why read Baldwin? Why read Dostoyevsky? Why read Shakespeare? Why engage with a fellow human being? Such folly seeks to paralyze our humanity.

Why engage Wilkerson’s masterpiece of epic storytelling?

In response to Great Art,  I confirm “I see you.” I am compelled to respond in some way. Now maybe I see myself in a new way. I hear you, and I call back. 

Why engage a monograph by an African American about the Great Migration? Why add to that story other personal stories of a white family on a parallel track albeit in a different but complimentary key?

Because the story of the Great Migration is part of Our Story. We are looking for lessons. We are looking for truth. What will this piece of our collective mosaic mean to me? What will this story mean to our national narrative?

Perhaps you do not trust me with this particular story. Perhaps you worry that I mean to shade the story to my political bent. Perhaps you suspect I have already come to a different conclusion than the one approved.

As is my human right, I intend to take your true story and add my true story and increase the gross universal product of truth. And, perhaps, I mean to engage in the ancient conversation concerning larger meaning made slightly more accessible with the addition of new information and interpretation.

When Abraham Lincoln famously entreated, “with malice toward none and charity for all,” he was surely beckoning a spirit of reconciliation between North and South. But many scholars believe Lincoln, as our great intercessor, also pleaded for the forgiveness of the four million Americans who sunk 250 years of unrequited toil into the American Project. If we burned down the great experiment in a tribal fight to the finish, as we might have done and still might well do, no one could say we did not fully earn divine judgment for our egregious sins. But Lincoln urged a more excellent way. 

TJ. The wheel is going to turn.

Of course, Lincoln as he often did, even as it might seem counterintuitive to our academic shortcuts on their respective philosophies of government, built on the collected musings of Jefferson:

“Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just: that his justice cannot sleep for ever: that considering numbers, nature and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation, is among possible events: that it may become probable by supernatural interference!”

In some ways we have lived to see not only a day of jubilee but a “revolution in the wheel of fortune” and an “exchange of situation.” What Jefferson predicted in 1784 and Lincoln implicitly contemplated in 1865, after doubling down on our original sin for an additional and gratuitous 100 years, eventually transpired. The regime of white supremacy finally reached the point of unsustainability and collapsed on itself and fell upon the throne of judgment.

By far the most popular attraction of the thirteen or so Smithsonian museums nestled around the National Mall, the Museum of African American History and Culture is one of two sites that still require a reservation. Once inside the facility, entrance to the main exhibition hall often requires an additional wait of approximately one hour or more. Time spent in close quarters moving forward by inches offers a moment for quiet contemplation and an opportunity for people watching. The last time I visited, the entrants were diverse, mixed equally between white and people of color, all showing natural signs of anxiousness and anticipation. On the various sober faces I read pride, dread, guilt, pain, triumph, anger, and always a cohort of stony countenances projecting studied impassivity.

But something palpable in the line among the white congregants “putting in the time” to pay their respects to the history of their fellow Americans who are Black was the admiration for the story of African Americans in the United States. We are a people intensely interested in this story of tragedy and triumph, a story of perseverance and overcoming, tribulation and deliverance. For some of us, the tale illustrates the greatness of the American promise rather than the mendacity or hypocrisy of our founding creed. But, more basically, it occurred to me that a vast segment of white America languishes in a liminal space desperate to be forgiven, desperate to regain moral equality, and desperate to love our Black neighbors and have them love us back.

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

In my life, I have been blessed by people of good will in all varieties. A remarkable succession of Black friends have dealt with me patiently and with much grace. I continue to believe we sit atop a great reservoir of goodwill in our present American culture. 

We should heed the words of Lincoln and love one another and seek healing and reconciliation. Let us together pursue and fashion for ourselves and our posterity a just and lasting peace. May our mutual stake in a more harmonious American future and our common human heritage as imperfect beings, created in God’s image, triumph over our righteous indignation and warranted misery over past evils.

May grace, mercy, and peace abide with us in truth and love.

1. The sustainability of the American Project seems at risk if we re-elect a president in 2024.

2. The Election of 2024 may be our best indicator of whether God remains favorable to our great undertaking. To be blunt, if God allows a binary choice between our two current leading candidates as the final alternatives on Election Day, I will take it as a sign that “providential agency” is now (at best) indifferent to “the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States.”

Having said that, I cannot celebrate the mounting legal campaign to sideline Donald J. Trump. What feels hollow about all these indictments?

Who remembers Deflategate?

Bear with me.

With an appearance in Super Bowl XLIX hanging in the the balance, the New England Patriots defeated the Indianapolis Colts 45-7 on January 18, 2015. In retrospect, the game is mostly remarkable for accusations that Tom Brady orchestrated the “underinflation” of game balls to give his team an advantage. After intercepting a Brady pass during the first half, the Colts presented the captured football to game officials and quietly asked for a measurement of air pressure. At half time, the refs deemed the Patriot game balls inadequately inflated. By rule, teams provide, maintain, and play with their own footballs on offense. The officiating crew returned all the footballs to maximum inflation, returned them to the Patriots, and the game resumed on time and without any official comment or sanction.

Almost immediately following the game, news of the incident broke as a national news frenzy and quickly earned a label that stuck: “Deflategate.” Like you, I began the week almost completely ignorant of the obscure rules and procedures governing pigskin maintenance. NFL regulation requires game balls inflated to a minimum of 12.5 pounds per square inch and not to exceed 13.5 psi. Brady, reportedly, preferred a slightly softer football, and, allegedly, presumably with the knowledge of his team, supervised an elaborate system to reduce the air pressure in between inspection by officials and game time.

At first blush, I was livid. Context. I was not especially tuned in to professional football during that period of my life. Looking back, my interest was ramping back up. But, as a casual fan, I held a mild Patriots hatred, skepticism of Brady, and I accepted the widespread narrative that Bill Belichick would do anything to win—including cheat. “Big Deal, Little Deal, or No Deal?” For me, BIG DEAL!!! These guys broke the rules. Make them pay. My solution in real time—admittedly a bit crazy: REPLAY THE GAME. Keep the Super Bowl on schedule and, as a penalty, assuming the Patriots would beat the Colts again, make the Patriots play an extra game and forfeit one week of preparation and recovery heading into the Super Bowl.

Overkill. Impractical. But, as I say, my blood was up.

Then, the more I thought about it, my temper started to cool. Maybe this was not a big deal. Not a rule I had ever heard of before. Did this violation actually affect the outcome of the game? With underinflated balls during the first half, the Patriots outpaced the Colts 17-7 with one Brady interception. With regulation balls restored, the Patriots hammered the Colts with even more authority, outscoring them in the second half 28-0 with two Brady touchdown passes and no interceptions. And, if this was a big deal, why did NFL allow teams to manage their own game balls in the first place?

As it turned out, the recently enacted protocol reflected the rising popularity of superstar quarterbacks who thrilled fans with precision passing and highflying offenses designed to generate more points and more excitement. The new process encouraged quarterbacks to spend time with these game balls prior to the contest and squeeze them and scuff them to their liking in order to facilitate their own higher comfort. The more we learned, there was not even a consensus that a pound of air pressure made much of a real difference, a subtle variation that few would ever notice via natural observation.

As the imbroglio played out on the cable news networks, my fellow Patriot haters, who were doing all the heavy lifting on the perpetuation of this scandal, started to repel me. The conversation waxed vituperative and calumnious. As the investigation dragged on over the course of seasons, the affair seemed way too personal, attenuated, and disproportionate to the alleged crime.

To be fair, Brady was not always helpful. Advocates on his behalf offered up clever defenses that complicated the facts, impeached much of the evidence, and introduced mitigating factors such as weather and undependable instrumentation. But, in the end, it seemed clear the Patriots knowingly broke the rule. Brady lied when the truth would have served him better and, while not an actual crime in this case, probably destroyed evidence.

Nevertheless, by the time it was all over, and even in the midst of the controversy, astonishingly, the debate transformed me into a Brady, Belichick, and Patriots fans. By the second half of the Super Bowl, just two weeks after the “deflategate” game, I found myself cheering hard for the Patriots down the stretch as they battled the Seattle Seahawks in a titanic struggle that came down to the very last play.

See here for my previous and fuller explanation of why I came to love Brady.

Why did I stop caring about the violation?

In simplest terms, I came to believe no damage was done. Virtually no impact. Who was harmed? What injustice needed rectification? We were NOT in need of remedy because there was no injury. Upon further inspection, the entire uproar proved mostly a vehicle to vent irrational hatred for the Patriots, Belichick, and Brady.

How could this possibly shed light on Donald Trump and his legal troubles?

NFL rules are not federal laws. Donald Trump is no Tom Brady.

Brady, arguably, the most successful quarterback to play the most important position in the game, succeeded by taking his above-average natural ability and elevating himself through hard work, dedication, and an unparalleled commitment to team. Donald Trump, with all his flashes of greatness, keen instincts, and his ability to energize and entertain, offers up the opposite of Brady. Trump refuses to do the intellectual heavy lifting, takes too many shortcuts, rarely seems capable of marshalling his team to win the big game, and, most alarming, does not have an innate love and feel for American republicanism.

An Aside. Trump is not a would-be authoritarian exactly. No Republican Party president, facing the checks and balances inherent in the controlling institutions of American political culture, could ever overcome the partisan bias and suspicion that casts all Republican officeholders as threats to Democracy. In this sense, only a national Democratic politician possesses the capacity for running a truly authoritarian regime.

Having said that, as a demagogic, self-centered hammer of the underserved class, Trump inflames an already polarized nation. Even worse, based on his track record, rather than making America great again, Trump 2024 represents one more lost opportunity to right the ship in a moment in which our lost opportunities are starting to mount in a foreboding way.

What explains the tens of millions of Americans who love Donald Trump?

The flamboyant and hilarious, bigger than life figure, who, for all his purported billions, “plays so well in Peoria” because his tormentors always overplay their hand, exaggerating and fulminating, showing their teeth and their unhinged hypocrisy. In a mostly well-earned historic crisis of confidence regarding our betters in the academy, science, journalism, and the expert class, tens of millions of Americans see a posse of discredited elites intent on chasing down Donald Trump and destroying him to save democracy.

What about the Brady analogy?

TWO THINGS:

1. The Trump indictments mostly resonate with people who already hate him and are primed to believe the worst. Only a dedicated Trump hater could feel good about the hijinks on display in courtrooms in New York, DC, and Atlanta. The tumultuous emotional legal dramas seem unprecedented and disproportionate to fair-minded observers.

2. His passionate political opponents offend our American sense of fair play when they attempt to “take the ball” out of Trump’s hands. More to the point, sidelining Trump takes away our agency as well. By distorting the rules and norms to disqualify him, they take away our choice. In a system of elective self government, our power is our vote. In an effort to save democracy, for our own good, our Never Trump friends seem intent on foreclosing any possibility that the American people might do something ridiculously self-destructive and re-elect this dangerous person.

In the case of Brady, in the midst of his two-decade juggernaut, as his detractors came to grudgingly understand, just comeuppance for the Golden Boy could only transpire on the field. Eli and the G-Men did it (twice). Improbably Nick Foles and “fly Eagles fly” pulled off the impossible once. And, of course, Father Time remains undefeated. In the interim, Brady won three more Super Bowls. And the haters had to choke it down. But a remedy short of besting Brady in the arena would have proved not only unsatisfying—but ultimately ruinous to the sport.

Donald Trump is not Tom Brady. He is by no means the G. O. A. T. He barely won one Super Bowl (metaphorically)—and it was arguably a fluke. But, in order to beat this unique and considerable political talent in a way that does not damage the integrity of the system, his opponents need to take him on and take him down on the field of play and by the rules of the game.

Back in 2014, I wrote an earnest article detailing how candidate Hillary Clinton in her late-sixties seemed too old to capture the imagination of the American electorate. Attached to a statistical analysis, I posited that seasoned and grizzled statesmen were incredibly susceptible to fresh-faced new kids in town. Although I possessed warm feelings for Jeb Bush as the most likely Clinton opponent, an experienced candidate from the same cohort in his early-mid-sixties, not to mention a scion from the other most famous powerhouse political family of the past quarter century, I believed a “new generation” candidate would prove much more appealing.

Of course, the age issue seems silly now. As, even eight years later, Hillary at 75 years old remains several years younger than our two leading presidential candidates of the moment: 81 year-old Joe Biden and 78 year-old Donald Trump.

But, more importantly, back in 2016, for all the reasons I enumerated then—and many more, Hillary proved an awful candidate. In retrospect, it is easy to see how any Republican might have coasted to a comfortable victory against her. Ironically, looking back, Donald Trump was one of the few candidates who could have lost to her—which he almost did. But he drew the inside straight with Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and Michigan, broke the Blue Wall, and shocked the world.

2020. We still have a hard time imagining gibberish-spewing, shuffling and stumbling, denizen of the basement, President Joe Biden, winning 81 million votes. Twelve million votes more than previous record holder Barack Obama. But it happened, and we remain hard-pressed to explain that outcome against anyone other then Trump.

2024. If Joe Biden, in his deteriorating condition, remains the Democratic standard bearer, any Republican nominee can beat him—including Donald Trump. But, once again, Trump is one of the few potential nominees who could actually lose. All current indications and conventional wisdom at this point seem to signal a very tight race between the two presidents.

An Aside: if the parties were capable of good sense, they would dump Biden and Trump respectively. Will they both survive the long election season? As I have argued before, the scandals and the economy and issues surrounding his mental competency are not major considerations for Democrats intent on re-nominating the incumbent. All those factors can be managed. But a slip in the polls, an undeniable signal that President Biden is on track to lose the general election, a real emergency, will trigger the evacuation process. By what means is unclear and relatively unimportant. There are many options. But, take it to the bank, Democratic leadership, if in real distress, can and will reorient the trajectory of the fall race by replacing a failing Biden with a new and vigorous option at the top of the ticket.

The Trump dilemma is more stubborn. Some public polling indicates that 70 percent of the American public do not want the rematch, but, according to other public opinion polling, on any given day, more than 50 percent of the GOP nominating voters favor Donald Trump again over a slate of younger and uber-qualified challengers. And, as we see even more polling often enough now that has Trump and Biden dead-even in the general, the “Trump is unelectable argument” seems like another lie from the usual suspects.

Why do tens of millions of Americans love the incredibly flawed Trump?

In his own way, Donald J. Trump really is a brilliant communicator, a genius perhaps. A unique talent in the annals of American politics, Trump is both an innovative rhetorician and a persuader of enormous skill. Salena Zito once told us to take him seriously not literally, and, so often, his seemingly nonsensical and ridiculous formulations carry a coded but trenchant analysis that his competitors miss but his listeners hear.

In an underappreciated similarity to Ronald Reagan, a whole generation of American voters knew Trump as a glamorous celebrity for decades. Then they watched him on the TV every week in prime time for ten years. Trump began bid for the presidency with name recognition across all segments of American society that dwarfed most of his competitors and placed him on a par with former presidents, elite sports heroes and superstar performers.

And, despite the dire predictions of every educated pundit, President Donald Trump left the White House with an impressive enumeration of accomplishments for the American people.

But there is also the dark side to Trump. He is smart, but he won’t study. He does not love or understand the Constitution—and he really does not care to learn. He has no moral compass outside his own self-interest and no core beliefs that guide policy. He is too petty and it clouds his judgement. This is the business of American politics, but he takes it personal. He has his savant-like instincts that propel him to unprecedented heights of public frenzy and adulation, but he also makes idiotic political mistakes of which a child would know better. His post-election shenanigans, even if they did not put “our democracy” at immediate risk, proved asinine. Any fool could have seen by January 6th that none of his efforts to “stop the steal” were going to overturn the election. Right or wrong, he was out and Biden was in. And, as I have said before, if he had had the presence of mind to concede with graceful defiance, he would be the double-digit, runaway, unbeatable front-running candidate for 2024.

Bottom Line. You cannot trust this person to do the right thing. You cannot even trust him to pick his most advantageous option. “It was worse than a crime, it was a colossal blunder.”

Again, if either party jettisoned their prohibitive frontrunner for a charismatic new generation fresh face, they would be assured of a 2024 victory.

KEVEN McCARTHY, 2023 and Beyond

I like Kevin McCarthy. Perhaps it is the contrarian in me—or my American propensity to root for the underdog. But I believe him a smart person of good will who loves his country.

The impending shutdown is a mess—and not completely of McCarthy’s making. He faces a slew of unprecedented and perhaps unnavigable obstacles. As I am skeptical of the shutdown for myriad strategical and tactical reasons, I should admit two personal biases. We are set to be in DC on a study trip for my college in November, so an extended suspension of government operations will prove inconvenient. And, even more annoying, my son is an essential government employee who will be forced to work without pay during the impasse.

The Speaker of the House plays a dual role in our political system. He is the partisan leader of the majority party in the House of Representatives. He is also one of four national leaders mentioned in the United States Constitution. He must think institutionally as a partisan leader and also as a statesman, representing the interests of his party but also the national legislature. But he must always prioritize the national interest. He must love his country more than his job.

What is best for the nation?

Is there an upside to a shutdown? Of course. But do the advantages of…

BREAKING NEWS. NYT. “Government Shutdown Averted. House Passes Bill to Keep Government Open for 45 Days. Strong bipartisan support and includes more domestic disaster relief aid but no money for Ukraine. It must pass the Senate before midnight to avert a shutdown.”

Quite Unexpected.

I was going to say, before events overtook this post, at some point the Speaker must choose good policy and statesmanship over politics—and the consequences be damned. “Let the Heavens fall.” Good on him—and Godspeed.

DIANNE FEINSTEIN, 1933-2023

God rest her soul. She was a statesman who understood comity, patriotism, and the role of the upper chamber. Although I never voted for her, she was my favorite California senator for three decades. We already feel the loss of her integrity, courage, and graciousness.

Elected to the United States Senate from New Jersey in 1996, Robert Torricelli filled the seat vacated by the legendary Bill Bradley. Subsequent to his election, compelling evidence emerged that six donors made illegal contributions to Torricelli's campaign. After a years-long federal investigation, the United States attorney from the Southern District of New York, famed Clinton appointee Mary Jo White, on the day she resigned her office, closed the criminal investigation into Torricelli, referring the case to the Senate Ethics Committee in early 2002.

With Torricelli up for reelection in the fall, and Democrats holding a slim one-vote majority in the upper chamber, Majority Leader Tom Daschle happily proclaimed Torricelli “vindicated.” Compelled by copious evidence of improper gifts and quid pro quo so unsavory, including the conviction of David Chang in federal court for $53,700 in illegal contributions to Torricelli over the course of several years, the Ethics Committee formally admonished Torricelli for “violations of Senate rules and at least the appearance of impropriety” that summer. With contrition, Torricelli apologized to voters for his lack of judgement and honest mistakes in the pursuit of better government and promised to continue his lifelong fight to improve the lives of the people of New Jersey.

So far so good. Torricelli, a rising star within the party and crucial to retaining power in the upcoming election, had adeptly alluded federal prosecution. He mounted an effective campaign to discredit his accuser, who was, after all, now a convicted criminal. Seemingly, Torricelli had taken his lumps with a bipartisan ethics committee and now stood poised to win reelection as a powerful incumbent facing the impotent Republican Party of New Jersey.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the November winner’s circle. In a classic “Republicans pounce” scenario, boosted by a steady trickle of revelations, his opponents successfully leveraged Torricelli’s uncharged proximity to criminal activity into a campaign issue. By late September, incredibly, Torricelli trailed his GOP challenger by double digits in several polls. Not surprisingly, the upcoming 2002 midterm struck some contemporaneous observers as the most important election of their lifetime, with Democrats holding just a one-vote margin in the Senate against a dangerous Republican majority. Moving swiftly to avert a crisis for the Democracy, party elders applied pressure on Torricelli to step down for the greater good. Listing his many accomplishments for the people, and insisting his decision was completely his own and another example of his commitment to serve a cause greater than himself, just FIVE weeks out from the upcoming midterm election, Torricelli withdrew from the campaign and asked that his name be taken off the ballot.

It was an unusual request, that technically violated state election laws, nevertheless, in a matter of days, the New Jersey Supreme Court, a majority of whom appointed by Democratic governors and confirmed by Democratic lawmakers, unanimously ruled the Democratic Party could replace Torricelli on the ballot with another candidate. The choice: 78-year-old Frank Lautenberg, recently retired after winning state-wide election three times and serving eighteen years as senator.

In the closing weeks, the popular former senator surged in the polls and won the race handily, averting the temporary electoral crisis for national Democrats—at least locally. Sadly, the inspiring story of intrepid political innovation offered a sour denouement for Democrats in the larger context. The GOP, the party holding the White House in the midterm election, defied expectations that cycle and flipped three other races for a net two state gain, wresting control of the Senate—despite the best efforts of public-minded partisans.

Nice story. So what?

All God’s children have their problems, and President Joe Biden is no exception. He is 80 years old (he will be 81 in November of 2024). If reelected, and he served out his full second term, he would exit the office at age 86. A majority of Americans across party lines tell pollsters he strikes them as too old for the job. Americans also report they are dissatisfied with the economy and the direction of the country. With Republicans in control of the House and running oversight committees, thorny questions keep arising over the Biden family businesses. From what we can tell, Biden family members attract tremendous sums of cash from foreign actors distributed across myriad shell accounts and dispersed into various family coffers, and, so far, no one can explain what these foreign corporations get for their money.

Of course, politically, all this is manageable. Voters not completely satisfied with Biden are much less choosy when they are faced with Donald J. Trump as the alternative. Biden family skeletons are only news if they get reported—and the friendly outlets that suppressed unpalatable stories in 2020 give every indication they are onboard for similar support in 2024. Joe Biden beat Donald Trump in 2020, and there is no reason to believe the 76-year-old former president is a man who learns from his mistakes. The concerted game plan that won the last election should work fine this time around as well.

However, sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley. Sometimes things come undone. Sometimes Republicans pounce and, miraculously, the message breaks through. Keep an eye on the polls. The one variable the Democrats cannot fix is a popular turn against President Biden. If somehow there is a needle in this haystack that breaks the camel’s back, if one detail too many somehow penetrates the threshold of public awareness and becomes part of the political zeitgeist, if the head-to-head polls veer off in a precipitous wrong direction, look for the Democrats to move quickly and unceremoniously jettison Biden for a higher percentage candidate.

No predictions. Not entirely likely. But it is not impossible. These things do happen. The cautionary tale of Robert Torricelli is not a one-off. I can imagine Vladimir Putin is not the only world leader who feels uneasy concerning his grip on power right now.

O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth.

We enter into your house of worship with praise and thanksgiving. We are humbled and grateful to be made in your image. We thank you with all our hearts, even as we shudder at the magnitude, for giving us the gift of life and entrusting us as stewards of your abundant creation.

Thank you for the promise of restoration in the wake of our inevitable missteps. Thank you for a church filled with grace and peace. Thank you for ears to hear. And thank you for reconciliation, forgiveness, and mercy as we follow the way of a God of love.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Comforter, Amen.