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I am fussing over the slavering contributions to Trump’s inaugural fund—especially the millions forked over by CEOs who are unlikely, in the privacy of their suites, to even deem him presidential. “Is everything pay-to-play now?” I exclaim. The silence of the newspaper that broke Watergate can now be bought, and the giants of capitalism feel the need to kowtow….
“It’s always been that way,” a colleague says, voice weary. “There’s nothing new about any of this.”
Sputtering, I rattle off the donations from Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Sam Altman—and who knows who else, because Trump refused to sign ethical agreements, and these unlimited gifts need not be disclosed until three months after the inauguration.
My colleague points out that Kamala Harris raised a great deal of money, too.
“But that was from people who sincerely wanted her to win,” I protest, “not from people prostrating themselves to make sure they can continue to do business.” The current list of inaugural donors must be even longer than Trump’s list was in 2017, because the new one includes massive contributions from big tech leaders.
My colleague gently reminds me that corporate leaders curry favor with every incoming president. But this much favor? Who was Obama’s Elon Musk, party to conversations with world leaders and capable of swaying Congress? I stomp off to do research. Trump is allowing unlimited corporate and individual donations, as he did in 2017. Back then, he raised $107 million—nearly double what Obama raised in 2009. George H.W. Bush raised $32K and George W. Bush about $40K, with a $250,000 cap on donation amounts. His first time around, Obama capped individual contributions at $50K and banned corporate donations altogether. But—I am foiled. For his second term’s inaugural fund, Obama shifted to “accepting unlimited corporate funds, and donors in the $75,000 to $1 million range [were] being rewarded with exclusive concerts, parties and reserved seating.”
Trump’s major donors were reported as gaining exclusive access to events with administration officials. We have no idea what else they gained.
Returning to the presidency has also helped him leverage his brand and hawk merchandise. MAGA hats, of course, but also sneakers (including $45K golden high-tops), silver coins, gold medallions, NFTs, $100,000 watches, autographed mugshots, guitars starting at $1,250, T-shirts, vitamins and supplements, bobblehead dolls (perfect!), Bibles! (less so), water and wine (the miracles continue).
I suppose that is nothing new, either. After all, there was a Spiro Agnew watch, and we own a rubbery Richard M. Nixon Hallowe’en mask and a couple Obama T-shirts. But seriously? Sure, there has always been back-room, under-the-table corruption. People have profited in spaces intended to be sacred since a kid named Jesus raged in the temple. The difference is that by making it blatant and waving it in our faces, Trump is elevating the id and shoving conscience out of the room. If you think that does not change things, you have never watched a group of unruly kids erupt when the teacher is called into the hall. By refusing even the appearance of ethical, rulebound behavior, Trump is telling us it is honorably American to wheel and deal, barter influence, and trade favors at every opportunity.
After all, his favorite president, Andrew Jackson, gave us the spoils system, in which political offices were bestowed upon supporters as rewards.
I wanted to fight my colleague’s cynicism with fresh, innocent outrage. Obama relaxing the rules for contributions to his second inaugural fund sucked some of the wind out of my sails. But I still think the tired shrug of the cynic is a dangerous stance right now.
Oscar Wilde was more clear-eyed than most, and he remarked that cynicism “is merely the art of seeing things as they are instead of as they ought to be.” That is a solid defense. But as others have noted, cynicism can also mean that you cannot muster the courage to hope because you cannot face the chance of being disappointed. Cynicism can be a protective mechanism, a pair of goggles you don before the sparks start to fly. That sounds prudent and sensible—except that those goggles are thick and cloudy, and they also block hope and idealism and the possibility of change.
Stanford psychologist Jamil Zaki makes an invaluable distinction: cynicism is a lack of faith in people, while skepticism is a lack of faith in our assumptions. My colleague was right to be skeptical of my sweeping assertion that Trump was breaking precedent. But I do not want to be so cynical that I doubt an entire nation’s ability to register what is happening and resolve to stop it.
While it is not unusual for wealth to confer power, Pete Buttigieg told Rolling Stone that this is different, because we have “so much wealth and so much power in the hands of so few people.” We are outstripping the Gilded Age. As of November 2017, the three richest individuals in the U.S. had as much wealth as the bottom half of the population. Over the last four decades, CEO pay has increased over 1,000 times more than that of a typical worker. The poorest Americans possess less wealth than the poorest Chinese. And as Buttigieg pointed out, we now have “very powerful, wealthy people given sweeping, undefined roles in or around government.” For example, Elon Musk, who has an estimated net worth of $486 billion, is the wealthiest person in the world, and has been charged with slashing our government. That is unusual.
Donald Trump is the first president-elect to refuse to sign an ethics agreement limiting donor contributions to his presidential transition team in exchange for federal funding. Donors, including foreign nationals, can give unlimited amounts without public disclosure. That, too, is unusual.
Last month, Justin Sun, a Chinese entrepreneur who has been charged with fraud by the SEC, purchased $30 million in crypto tokens from World Liberty Financial, a new crypto venture backed by President-elect Donald Trump. Sun said his company, TRON, was committed to “making America great again.” As of December 1, the deal had netted Trump $18 million. Sun is reportedly joining World Liberty Financial as an adviser, partnering up with the president-elect. And the idea of crypto as a national currency grows more popular every day.
I am trying to imagine past presidents so entangled in capitalist schemes, with foreign nationals to boot, that it could change federal monetary policy.
Meanwhile, a review by Trump’s own legal team found that one of his top advisers, Boris Epshteyn, had asked potential Cabinet appointees for fees as high as $100,000 per month in exchange for advocating for their nominations. Epshteyn denied the allegations, but Trump took them in stride: “It’s a shame, but it happens.”
That is cynicism. From him, it just feels breezy. But in most of us, cynicism blends helplessness and hopelessness beneath a bitter crust. We already know just how little people are capable of, and we can predict and be unsurprised by the worst outcome. This hardens us, suffocates idealism, and prevents reform.
And we are about to need a whole lot of reform.
Read more by Jeannette Cooperman here.
