This book is well-written, compelling, and—most notably—largely uncontested. I’ve read and heard very little pushback on the specific facts or episodes it reveals, which suggests that authors Alex Thompson and Jake Tapper did their journalistic homework. The anger it has generated seems not to concern the accuracy of its content, but rather the timing of its release—particularly among Biden loyalists, who view it as a betrayal during a time when the President is reportedly battling stage four colon cancer.

Others, more detached, wonder aloud why this information wasn’t brought to light sooner—why major media outlets, especially CNN, did not explore or disclose the full extent of President Biden’s physical and cognitive decline during his time in office. That is perhaps the most damning question of all.

This is an important book. It speaks to an uncomfortable truth that extends far beyond one man: the American political establishment, across all branches, has proven remarkably inept at addressing questions of age, health, and capacity among its senior-most officials. From the silent frailty of Dianne Feinstein to the vanished vigor of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, we’ve seen what happens when ego and denial—both personal and institutional—take precedence over public responsibility.

Perhaps the quintessential case of this phenomenon was Woodrow Wilson’s second term. After a debilitating stroke, Wilson was essentially incapacitated. His wife, Edith, barred access to him, managed his communications, and in effect acted as President. It was a quiet coup by pillow and teacup. The Republic endured, but barely.

There are shades of Edith Wilson in Jill Biden. She appears to have acted as her husband’s chief protector—controlling access, managing his schedule, shielding him from the press, and preserving the illusion of a functioning presidency. In her role as spouse, that’s understandable. In her unelected role as a shadow gatekeeper to the Commander-in-Chief, it is far more problematic. One might say she acted out of love; but in doing so, she may have done a grave disservice not just to Joe, but to the country.

The book should be read not as a political hit job, but as a cautionary tale—a sobering account of what happens when the reality of aging is denied, hidden, or downplayed in a role where vitality, decisiveness, and mental clarity are non-negotiable. The tragic erosion of strength and cognition in old age is painful to witness in any context. But when the individual in decline is the President of the United States, the stakes are exponentially higher.

Being President is not a part-time job. And yet, this administration’s inner circle seemed intent on turning it into a 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. desk duty—often with questionable results. The staff’s attempts to mask or manage the President’s decline weren’t just misguided; they were reckless. Shame on them. Shame on the senior Democrats who knew the truth and said nothing. And shame, too, on the partisans who savaged the few journalists who dared to report what millions of Americans could plainly see.

Modest Proposals for Reform

The republic deserves better than this. Here are a few modest proposals to restore some measure of honesty and responsibility to our political gerontocracy:

• Mandatory retirement at 78 for all members of Congress and Supreme Court justices. This would mean the last year someone could run for the Senate would be age 73; for the House, age 76.
• Presidential retirement at 78. If a sitting President reaches that age during their term, the Vice President should assume office.
• Lower the minimum age to run for President to 32. Why 35, anyway? If you’re old enough to command a drone strike, you’re old enough to command the White House.
• Annual cognitive testing starting at age 68 for any sitting President, Supreme Court justice, or member of Congress, with results made public. Transparency, like sunlight, is the best disinfectant.

And What of Donald Trump?

Let us not delude ourselves. The other septuagenarian (now octogenarian) candidate is not immune to the same questions. A similar book could be written—perhaps will be written—about Donald Trump’s own health, mental acuity, and fitness for office. The signs are there, albeit in a different key.

One would hope that, should Trump become clearly unfit for office due to health reasons, the wise and the decent would persuade him to step aside. But hoping for wise and decent behavior in American politics is a bit like hoping the Mississippi River will reverse course out of courtesy.

We are a nation now ruled by its elders, but without the wisdom such a gerontocracy is supposed to confer. Instead, we cling to figureheads and fictions, while truth sits ignored in the wings—sometimes until it’s too late. Original Sin may not be a comfortable read, but it is a necessary one.