Midterms and Moral Rot in Trump’s America

In September, a psychologist wrote these words in their monthly newsletter:

“As it turns out, character DOES matter. You can’t run a family, let alone a country, without it. How foolish to believe that a person who lacks honesty and moral integrity is qualified to lead a nation and the world! Nevertheless, our people continue to say that the President is doing a good job even if they don’t respect him personally. Those two positions are fundamentally incompatible. In the Book of James the question is posed, ‘Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring’ (James 3:11 NIV). The answer is no.” 

Now, I should note, this newsletter is actually from September of 1998, as news of President Bill Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinsky burbled into view. It was written by the late James Dobson, president of Focus on the Family, who excoriated Clinton, the Democratic Party, and “the media” for giving Clinton a pass. But he saved his harshest words for the American people who, to Dobson’s indignation and outright astonishment, continued to support Clinton even after learning that he’d cheated on his wife. 

“…[O]ur greatest problem is not in the Oval Office. It is with the people of this land! We have lost our ability to discern the difference between right and wrong. … I just don’t understand it. Why aren’t parents more concerned about what their children are hearing about the President’s behavior? Are moms and dads not embarrassed by what is occurring? At any given time, 40 percent of the nation’s children list the President of the United States as the person they most admire. What are they learning from Mr. Clinton? What have we taught our boys about respecting women? What have our little girls learned about men? How can we estimate the impact of this scandal on future generations?”

I have a lot of problems with Dobson, who passed away last year, but I’ve been thinking about his words over the last few days, particularly after President Donald Trump came to the defense of Vivek Ramaswamy. Ramaswamy is the Republican running for Governor of Ohio, and he launched a television ad that, at first glance, seemed like a real political killshot: The mother of his Democratic opponent, Amy Acton, denouncing her own daughter. But there was a sad, ugly wrinkle: Acton has spoken publicly for years about being sexually abused by her mother’s husband, who was charged with her rape in 1978. This account was corroborated by Acton’s brother, who says that their “birth mother stayed married to Amy’s rapist until he died.” Acton says she has not spoken to her mother in nearly 50 years. Ramaswamy’s ad was an attempt to use Acton’s childhood sexual trauma against her. 

This is campaign politics at its ugliest, a blow so extraordinarily low that it stuns the conscience. Or, it would, if the people in charge still had any. Ramaswamy has ignored the backlash and put $1 million behind the ad. Vice President JD Vance backed him up. So did Trump, with a lengthy post on Truth Social, urging Ramaswamy to air the ad so that voters could “listen to the mother of a defective, dishonest, and incapable Candidate, explain how the daughter is a DISASTER who, uncontrollably, lies, cheats, and steals!” 

It has been more than 10 years of this; 10 years since Trump first belly flopped into American politics and remade them in his image. In that time, I suppose nobody has been able to keep track of the number of morally corrosive things he’s said and done. I remember him, as a candidate in 2015, mocking a journalist’s congenital joint condition, which was then more mean-spirited and cruel than any of us dreamed a serious White House contender could be. The people who will be voting in their first election this year were 7 years old when that happened. It’s the only politics they’ve ever known. It’s largely the only politics of my adult life—I’d like to believe the hours of my one wild and precious life spent contemplating Trump’s pornographic drawing for Jeffrey Epstein left my soul unscathed. I know better.

READ MORE: James Dobson’s Anti-Immigrant Rhetoric Is Dangerous

Ramaswamy was 30, like me, when Trump mocked that reporter. He was making a small fortune in biotech at the time. He didn’t vote in 2016—he says he was “apolitical” in those years—but he didn’t have to be a political wonk for Trump’s way of winning to poison him. He didn’t have to pay attention to learn the lesson. None of us did. Trump is the last true monocultural moment, a force to which we all must react. Love him, hate him, support him, denounce him, or try to strike some sort of nuanced middle ground—he’s impacted you on a spiritual level, almost certainly for the worse. You simply cannot be breathing Trumpism to the degree we all have been over the last decade without a corrosive effect. “If we nominate Trump, we will get destroyed,” posted the late Sen. Lindsey Graham on Twitter in 2016. “And we will deserve it.” This was all well before Graham breathed in enough Trumpism for him to mutate into a loyal backer. So he was, in a way, correct. Just maybe not in the way he meant.

Dobson was right, too. Clinton’s actions were disqualifying; he should have stepped down, and when he didn’t, Democratic leaders should have forced him to. And Dobson understood something important about how morality moves through a nation: It flows downhill, from the people at the top to everyone watching them. I’ve called it “trickle-down morality.” Clinton didn’t invent the rot. He wasn’t the first president to cheat on his wife or lie to the public, and drawing a straight line from Lewinsky to Ramaswamy would be too tidy. But Dobson’s question, “How can we estimate the impact of this scandal on future generations?,” has an answer now. Look around. We see the impact everywhere. Fresh water and salt water can’t flow from the same spring.

So now, here we are: A president who has not only, as a matter of legal record, committed sexual abuse, but has also ignored and dismissed sexual assault committed by his friends. As I write this, an NBC reporter has just asked Trump if “sexual abuse allegations mean nothing to you.” His response: “You’re a horrible little reporter, aren’t you?” 

Consider what has become of the victims. Not long ago, protecting children from sexual predators was the named cause of Trump-centric movements like QAnon. Now, victims are nuisances to be discredited, dismissed, or sacrificed if that’s what winning requires. We watched it happen with the Epstein files, as the promise of full disclosure gave way to the president calling the whole matter a Democratic hoax. And we’re watching it now in Ohio, where a woman’s account of being raped as a 12-year-old has been recast, with $1 million behind it, as proof that she’s a liar.

That’s how this kind of sickness works: The longer it goes untreated, the further it spreads. Ad hominem insults went from a usually self-defeating tactic to a normal part of U.S. foreign policy, aimed at political opponents, journalists, immigrants, and friendly nations alike. “I feel liberated,” an anonymous banker told the Financial Times when Trump was re-elected. “We can say ‘r-----d’ and ‘p---y’ without the fear of getting cancelled[.]” It’s true that those words have lost their verboten status. It’s one of the few promises Trumpism has made good on.

“When the righteous thrive, the people rejoice,” says Proverbs 29:2. “When the wicked rule, the people groan.” There’s been a lot of groaning lately, maybe enough to suggest a new wind is blowing. I was heartened to see that sexual abuse allegations sank Graham Platner’s senatorial campaign in Maine and were a factor in former New York Governor Andrew Cuomo’s losing bid to become New York City’s mayor. Maybe the effects have gotten so calamitous that even our morally numb public is exploring its options. 

“When the righteous thrive, the people rejoice,” says Proverbs 29:2. “When the wicked rule, the people groan.” There’s been a lot of groaning lately, maybe enough to suggest a new wind is blowing.

But in the meantime, we are left with the rot, and the many it’s infected along the way—even people who should, in theory, know better. Even the people who warned us. “I’m not under any illusions that he is an outstanding moral example,” one respected moral leader said of Trump in 2016. “There are obviously characteristics of Trump that I wish I could change. However, I believe he is the best candidate available, period.” 

That leader was James Dobson.