In “Bad News and Good News” (The Independent January 6, 2025), Jerry Roberts posits that the new Trump administration, which he characterizes as a “clown car,” is comprised of the basest possible cabinet choices. In doing so, he introduces us to the word Kakistocracy — rule by the worst.
Such a portrayal begs the question of what kind descriptor would best suit the governance we’d be living under if the outgoing administration had been re-elected. My vote is for “Amnesiocracy” — a government that compels us to forget everything.
At the top of the list of things better left unrecalled would be a cabinet epitomized by a series of identity-based “firsts” that brought our country no small measure of embarrassment. Among these are Sam Brinton, the first openly gender-fluid individual in federal government leadership. While serving as Deputy Assistant Secretary for the Office of Nuclear Energy, Brinton stole women’s’ clothing off of airport turnstiles on at least three separate occasions. This did little to advance the notion that an unstable identity is an entirely benign proposition, let alone that it should be a primary determinant as to whether one is promoted to a high position within the nation’s nuclear program.
Their counterpart in gender gymnastics, Rachel Levine, was touted as “the highest-ranking openly transgender government official in U.S. history.” Not surprisingly, one of Levine’s priorities as Assistant Secretary for Health was dismantling barriers to “gender-affirming care.” These “barriers” included age limits for minor children who wanted to — or were influenced to — undergo permanent, life-altering transition surgery.
Considering the truly disgusting and ghastly slurs manifesting as part of the death rattle from the Harris campaign in its final weeks, “clown car” is certainly among the more benign pejoratives lobbed at Trump and his administration. Still, I almost didn’t devote the time to a thoughtful read, as it appeared that Roberts’ piece was going to be yet another cornucopia of tired, ad hominem-laden drivel.
At first, it was.
I kept reading, however, because unlike other immolations of Trump put forth by, say, Dick Cheney, Roberts graces his thoughts with an expansive vocabulary, as well as a few intriguing, lofty quotations from the likes of James R. Lowell. The rarity of this — or of anything more reasoned than pedestrian dismissals of legitimate concerns by labeling them “false” without providing any substantiation — was intriguing enough to provoke my curiosity.
Unfortunately, Roberts’ eloquence is quickly derailed by several confounding contradictions. Not all are of his creation, but collectively they work to build a perplexing framework so apparent that incongruity risks becoming the central motif.
For example, he presents an outtake from The Economist that impugns Trump for staffing his administration with those loyal to him, while also acknowledging that allowing saboteurs and enemies to remain in the ranks didn’t fare so well last time. Another instance appears in the same paragraph, in which Trump is roundly criticized for his firings of staff members during his previous term, neglecting the fact that one of the greatest liabilities of the departing administration (one pointed out again and again during the presidential campaigns) was their hesitancy to do just that in the face of abject incompetence (credit to The Economist for at least acknowledging that the detractors so often cited by anti-Trumpers were in fact those he fired, and credit to Roberts for not redacting that part). These heady perspectives make uneasy bedfellows with the aforementioned fluency that betrays a quite capable author.
Mercifully, resolution and clarity come in the final paragraph. Turning away from national politics and toward local matters, Roberts takes former Supervisor Das Williams to task for being a “pay-to-play, patronage, self-seeking … professional politician.”
Roberts is spot on with that assessment. Where things get esoteric lies with his having just spent an entire op-ed condemning Trump for staffing his cabinet with the likes of Elon Musk, an accomplished, independently wealthy entrepreneur who made his fortune entirely outside the confines of government. At Musk’s side will be Vivek Ramaswamy, another innovative industrialist. Neither has ever held public office, or worked for the government in any other capacity. Kash Patel and Pete Hegseth also draw Roberts’ ire; once we’re past the obligatory few nasty digs at their character, his primary sticking point seems to be that they’re “unqualified,” i.e., they lack prior bureaucratic or beltway experience. In fact, the only Trump appointees Roberts gives any quarter to are Senator Marco Rubio, Governor Doug Burgum, and “veteran government staffer” Susie Wiles: In other words, those most closely approximating pay-to-play, patronage, self-seeking, professional politicians. Roberts champions eliminating entrenched, tenured, career politicians from our governing class, it seems, but not at the expense of having it actually take place.
It would appear that what Roberts would like to see for our nation in place of the Kakistocracy he fears is a Contradictocracy — a country where the populace vehemently opposes a government whose principles of governance are in alignment with their own. Viewed through this prism, Roberts’ work is both persuasive and on point.