Otto von Bismarck, the political genius who unified and ruled Germany for decades in the late 19th century, famously said that politics is the art of the possible, indeed the “art of the next best.” This is a lesson the novice Elon Musk learned in calamitous fashion over the past few months.
This week’s Democracy Index shows how Musk’s ignominious departure, though not a panacea, represents a signal failure for him, and therefore for Donald Trump. And how the emotional and incompetent government he has instituted continues to wreak havoc.
Bismarck also said: “The weak are strong because they are reckless. The strong are weak because they have scruples.” In many ways, that is the dilemma now facing the United States, as you will see below — with Trump, Musk, and their allies as the reckless weaklings. You can explore how we evaluate the strength of our democracy this week across six vectors in our interactive graphic here.
So much of Donald Trump’s tenure as president is the performance of governance without substance. It’s why we are all feeling so weary just four months in.
That dynamic is made manifest repeatedly — as Trump flamboyantly signs executive orders without appearing to know what is in them (until it is explained by the underling over his right shoulder) or seems perplexed by questions about the Administration’s high-profile actions (witness his confusion over a reporter’s query about the government reportedly halting student visas). A constant feature, threaded throughout Trump’s career but particularly noticeable lately, is the filibustering world-salad he will embark upon in search of cogency in hopes that he can divert away from the topic at hand.
Fittingly, this dynamic is accompanied by an acute sensitivity to projecting strength. So when Elon Musk began to hog the spotlight — even being labeled a “co-president” and self-styled “first buddy” — it may have been only a matter of time before Trump gladly saw him off the stage. But Musk, unlike others who have come near Trump’s crown, was supported by his own base of popularity and had the greatest weapon of all — unlimited wealth at his disposal. Musk was unafraid to unsheathe that money — threatening Republicans who dared fall out of line with primary challenges and lavishing donations in races he sought to influence. Trump seemed content to let Musk do his tech thing and, so long as he continued to benefit Trump and his administration, let him stick around.
Now, Musk is slinking away from Washington, D.C., saying that he is leaving his demolition derby of DOGE to repair the tattered state of his businesses (well, he didn’t say it was tattered, but we all know). At the same time, Trump — still eager, as ever, to look aligned with Musk — appears unwilling to let him slip completely out of his sight. During a briefing in the White House on Friday, Trump claimed, “Elon's really not leaving. He's gonna be back and forth." How disconnected Musk actually becomes from DOGE and the Executive Branch remains to be seen.
Just like a wrecking ball, the damage Musk and DOGE wrought will last. Musk’s abdication, along with the departure of a DOGE top deputy, one of Musk’s loyalists, is a significant failure. Musk fell far short of reaching his stated goal — to cut $2 trillion in federal spending. Not only that, his preening power trip has short-circuited. Just a few months ago, Musk and his minions were riding high, convinced they had mastered politics and were poised to revolutionize the government. But they were wholly unprepared and ill-equipped, and wilted in the face of righteous resistance. Litigation against Musk and DOGE led to the courts repeatedly stopping their unlawful conduct. And widespread revulsion at their cruelty caused Musk’s popularity, such as it was, to tank. All of this crescendoed in the Wisconsin Supreme Court election in April, which — thanks to Musk’s $25 million infusion — became a referendum on his presence in politics and governance, punctuated by his attacks on Social Security. He was trounced. Tail between his legs, he’s off to salvage the burning embers of Tesla — which has struggled while Musk has been absent.
Trump’s own reflexive resistance to appearing weak shone brightly this week, when he heard a term that rubbed him the wrong way. On Wall Street, traders have been talking about “TACO Trades,” which stands for “Trump Always Chickens Out.” The concept represents the baseline assumption many in the financial world have that Trump, irrespective of the extreme initial position he takes on tariffs, will always retreat and give in. When a reporter asked him about this, Trump flipped out, calling it the “nastiest question.” His two minute temper tantrum is a perfect encapsulation of the simultaneously ridiculous and terrifying nature of Trump’s attitude and approach. As amusing as Trump’s meltdown may have been for some, the implications of him following through on his insistence that he will not chicken out could be nothing short of economic catastrophe. If anything, the TACO Trade meme was an attempt by financiers to create some baseline of stability and predictability — which they desperately need to operate — and which the Trump chaos has all but destroyed.
Beyond Trump’s knee-jerk reactions, a culture of incompetence, sloppiness, and disdain for expertise permeates throughout his government. This has been alarmingly on display in the Administration’s health efforts, led by Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. It was revealed that their much-touted “MAHA Report” (subtitled “Making Our Children Healthy Again”) was riddled with errors — outlets including the New York Times have reported that it “cited studies that did not exist” including “fictitious studies on direct-to-consumer drug advertising, mental illness and medications prescribed for children with asthma.” The Washington Post reported that, given those fictitious citations along with other telltale clues, AI experts believe that the report’s citations were generated using artificial intelligence, with scholars “shocked by the sloppiness of the MAHA Report.”
Ironically enough, that embarrassing revelation comes right after RFK Jr. threatened to block scientists from publishing their research in the leading medical journals calling them “corrupt.” As an alternative, he announced plans to launch a series of state-run journals that would use National Institutes of Health (NIH) funding and anoint researchers ‘as a good, legitimate scientist.’ Fortunately, the government has not blocked publication in the New England Journal of Medicine, Lancet, and Jama (the three journals RFK Jr. explicitly called out) just yet.
RFK Jr.’s, and the Department of Health and Human Services’s, aggressive actions are not limited to stifling reliable scientific research. This week, the Department of Health and Human Services canceled a contract with Moderna to support and fund the development of a bird flu vaccine. Meanwhile, on Tuesday in an apparently unprecedented move, RFK Jr. announced that the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) will no longer recommend that children and pregnant women get the Covid-19 vaccine, without consulting the CDC or the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices. However, two days later, the CDC delivered a much needed sanity check when they published their updated immunization schedules where they’re still recommending Covid vaccines for healthy children.
These moves — along with many others highlighted in our interactive graphic, and those we have covered in previous editions of the Index — reveal the insidious machinations and deep-rooted damage lurking throughout this Administration. Musk and DOGE did the same in their shambolic destruction — and surely there are further depredations that will continue within agencies already infiltrated by DOGE. But Musk’s exit and DOGE’s wind-down provides a model for how these dangers can be combated, and how their harm can be mitigated, if not rolled back. It may feel temporary and fractional, but it surely doesn’t feel that way to Musk. Sometimes shows of strength can’t overcome fundamental weakness, especially when challenged by the truly powerful — the American people.
Until next week,
The Democracy Index team
While the news is disablingly depressing, we at the age of 76, with friends in their 80s, are girding our ancient loins for the June 14 rally.
The Contrarian is the place to be to learn what’s really going on. Bravo!