The phrase "defining deviancy down," originally the title of a 1990s social science paper by New York Democratic Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, seems like an alliteratively satisfying description of President Trump's diverse transgressions against standards and decency. What in another administration would have attained the status of a headline-hogging scandal is noted on pg. 3 and then quickly forgotten in order to take up something newer and worse tomorrow, which is in turn supplanted by the next offense, and so on, until he is impeached for something, at which time it seems he is granted a de facto pardon for everything the Democrats, seeking to keep things tidy, don't put in an Article of Impeachment.
To take at random an example: Who can now remember that Trump, according to the Mueller Report, ordered White House counsel Don McGahn to ring up the Justice Department and tell them to fire Mueller; then, when the New York Times found this out and reported it, told McGahn to deny the true report and to fabricate a false and back-dated document "for our file"? Wtf! Directing your lawyer to manufacture false evidence! I guess that's not a criminal offense. It's just one of many golden oldies, however, and besides, the Democrats are at fault, too: "they failed to craft a compelling narrative the public could understand."
That deviancy has been defined down seems more plausible.
Probably the most spectacular illustration of what I'm talking about occurred in last week's televised impeachment hearings. One of the defenses advanced by Trump's congressional defenders was that there was no shake down of the Ukrainian government: on the contrary, our president was only performing an exercise in due diligence, which required him to determine that Ukraine's new head of state was a reformer worthy of our assistance. But, under our Constitution, Congress has the power of the purse. If the Congress votes $400 million in military assistance for Ukraine, Trump doesn't get to say no. It was Congress's call about whether Ukraine was pure enough for our aid in their war against Russia. It's bad enough that the money was withheld. That the purpose for the withholding was to pressure Ukraine to announce investigations of Trump's domestic political foes is obviously way worse—so much worse, I guess, that a minor offense (withholding congressionally approved funding) is repurposed as a defense of a major one (bribery of a foreign leader). The big crimes explained away by the little ones.
There is a law with a fancy name—The Impoundment Control Act of 1974—that allows the President to cancel or defer congressionally approved spending if he (or she) follows a process described in the law. In this case, however, the "deferral" was secret. Congress found out the money wasn't being released not from Trump but from the whistleblower. A couple days after that, the money was released, preparing the way for another defense of the President: Ukraine, without announcing any investigations, got its money, nothing bad happened, "there’s no there there." Yes, the money was released—right after Team Trump found out they'd been caught.
“Calm down, I tried to shoot you but missed."
Well, all this is probably less convincing than the hilarity associated with the notion that President Trump is a corruption fighter concerned about misconduct in the Ukraine, in particular this one obscure energy company that hired Joe Biden's son. When did he develop this passion for antiseptic pursuits? After he founded Trump University? After his personal "fixer" bought the silence of a porn actress with a six-figure check? We lavish foreign aid on Israel, whose Prime Minister was just indicted for bribery, fraud, and breach of trust—no doubt Trump is reassessing!
The cartoon is by Adam Zyglis.
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