A preening president, smiling from an air-conditioned luxury box at the World Cup final, enjoys the spectacle while American soldiers in the Middle East sit exposed to incoming missiles and artillery. The contrast is jarring: comfort and applause for those at the top, danger and sacrifice for those at the bottom.
The incongruities multiply.
The Secretary of Health and Human Services, whose public profile has long overshadowed his scientific credentials, dispenses medical advice while Dr. Andrew Fauci—an 85-year-old physician and career public servant who helped lead the nation’s response to COVID-19 and other infectious disease threats—is hauled before congressional critics more interested in campaign clips than sober inquiry. Washington has become a theater where expertise is booed from the stage while confidence, however unearned, receives a standing ovation.
If you are Donald Trump, a member of his family, a political insider, or the CEO of a corporation eager to flatter the administration, the economy may look quite favorable. Outside that circle, the picture is less rosy. Families contend with expensive gasoline, rising food and health-care costs, and for some, the growing anxiety that an expanding conflict could one day place their sons and daughters in uniform.
According to recent polling, only about one-third of Americans support military action against Iran. Yet the machinery grinds on while Congress performs its favorite civic duty: watching. It occasionally stirs itself—not to confront the nation’s most pressing problems, but to stage another hearing destined to produce more fundraising emails than useful legislation.
The nation may eventually run short of fuel, but there is no danger of running short of hot air. Washington produces it in inexhaustible quantities. I remember the gasoline rationing of the 1970s. At the current pace, one wonders whether history is preparing an encore.
Esot-eric 