Idolater
Popetard
The news this week—the chorus insisting that Secretary Hegseth should resign or be removed over the Iran conflict—has got me thinking about resignation in a different key.
I disagree with that chorus. But I want to take the logic seriously, because I think the people calling for Hegseth's head are asking the wrong man to fall on his sword. If the Iran conflict is a good idea—and I believe it is—then the person ultimately responsible for failing to make that case to the American people isn't the Secretary of War. It's the President. And if we're going to talk about resignation, we should talk about the top of the chain of command.
I've voted for Trump three times. I've never been enthralled by him—I take him for what he's always been, an opportunist, and I've known that from the start. So the "corruption" explanation for this week's Republican trouncing in the polls strikes me as a little late to the party. We all knew. That's not the story.
The story is the independents. Here's the technical point that gets lost in most commentary: all our elections are decided by independents, who aren't an organized party but who make up somewhere between a third and half of the electorate in any given cycle. Dyed-in-the-wool Republicans and Democrats vote straight tickets—I do, and so do, I'd guess, most of the people reading this. We're not the deciders. Independents have no such allegiance, and they decide every election. This week, they spoke with one voice: they're sick of Trump.
This same bloc in 2024 thought the Democrats had gone too far—weren't happy with President Biden, found the Democratic rhetoric off-putting—and opted to give Trump another go. Now they've had it. A bridge too far.
Which brings me to the claim Trump made on election night—that whenever he's on the ballot, he wins. I said to myself at the time: OK, but if you were on the ballot tonight, you would have gotten smoked. The data are clear. He wasn't on any ballot, and the results were still a referendum on him. The independents have had it.
So here's what I'm considering seriously enough to post about it: President Trump should resign. And the sooner, the better, for multiple parties and multiple reasons.
Every president holds a unique power: the ability to cast a single vote, an election between himself and his vice president. Nixon is the only president ever to have exercised it—when he resigned in 1974, he voted that Gerald Ford be president over himself. It's a live option, and for a president whose legacy is at risk of being permanently tainted, it may be the only serious one.
Consider the beneficiaries.
Trump himself. He could enjoy his remaining years without the pressure of life-and-death decision-making. He could resume his business and family life, continue as the celebrity he is, keep venting on his platform, keep giving interviews, keep stumping for candidates—all the influence, none of the weight. He could define his own legacy rather than have it defined for him.
The Republican Party. Everyone has wondered when the post-Trump era would begin. A resignation begins it immediately, and lets the party get to work on a long-term strategy while it still has a president in the White House to help shape it.
Vice President Vance. By many accounts Trump's own choice as heir, Vance would get the experience of presiding over the executive branch heading into 2028—and as an incumbent, he'd have the advantage. If he's any good, that's a two year audition followed by a real shot at two full terms. If Trump serves out his term, Vance gets none of that runway, and enters 2028 as a first-time candidate in a party still shadowed by its outgoing leader.
Independents. They shouted, almost in unison, that they've had it with Trump. A resignation gives them what they asked for—anybody but Trump—and it does so on terms the President controls, rather than terms imposed on him by a hostile electorate.
And then there's the model that I keep coming back to: George Washington.
Trump has said more than once that he considers our first President one of his heroes. Washington famously declined a third term when he surely would have won. Trump can't match that exactly—the Twenty-Second Amendment forecloses it—but as a second-term president in his final constitutionally permitted term, he can do the next best thing. He can resign, exercise that single-vote election, and vote that Vance be president. Washington would have done nothing wrong to run again in 1800; Trump would do nothing wrong to complete his term. It's his prerogative. But declining to continue—when continuing is possible but costly—is the Washingtonian move.
Whether or not Trump resigns soon, this is the shape of the choice. In an age where a third term is constitutionally impossible, the only president who can imitate Washington's refusal is a second-term president, in his second term. Trump should resign, make Vance the 48th President for a partial term, and give him the chance to win in 2028 and again in 2032. That would turn what looks like a resounding disaster this week into the beginning of a decade-long run.
The objection, of course, is ego. If Trump isn't a megalomaniacal narcissist (and for the record I do not think he is, certainly not to the degree his harshest critics claim he is), resigning is a live option—he could still wield enormous persuasive power as former president. If he is, then it isn't. But that's the thing about Washingtonian gestures: they're only available to people who are willing to make them.
I'm not saying this is the right choice. Every choice a president makes is fraught. But it's a plausible one, a live one, and—as I see it—Washingtonian in character. And if the chorus this week is going to demand a resignation, they should at least be honest about whose resignation would actually change the story.
[Full disclosure: I, as other TOL users have admitted to doing, used AI tools to help me craft the above. The ideas and essential content are all mine.]
I disagree with that chorus. But I want to take the logic seriously, because I think the people calling for Hegseth's head are asking the wrong man to fall on his sword. If the Iran conflict is a good idea—and I believe it is—then the person ultimately responsible for failing to make that case to the American people isn't the Secretary of War. It's the President. And if we're going to talk about resignation, we should talk about the top of the chain of command.
I've voted for Trump three times. I've never been enthralled by him—I take him for what he's always been, an opportunist, and I've known that from the start. So the "corruption" explanation for this week's Republican trouncing in the polls strikes me as a little late to the party. We all knew. That's not the story.
The story is the independents. Here's the technical point that gets lost in most commentary: all our elections are decided by independents, who aren't an organized party but who make up somewhere between a third and half of the electorate in any given cycle. Dyed-in-the-wool Republicans and Democrats vote straight tickets—I do, and so do, I'd guess, most of the people reading this. We're not the deciders. Independents have no such allegiance, and they decide every election. This week, they spoke with one voice: they're sick of Trump.
This same bloc in 2024 thought the Democrats had gone too far—weren't happy with President Biden, found the Democratic rhetoric off-putting—and opted to give Trump another go. Now they've had it. A bridge too far.
Which brings me to the claim Trump made on election night—that whenever he's on the ballot, he wins. I said to myself at the time: OK, but if you were on the ballot tonight, you would have gotten smoked. The data are clear. He wasn't on any ballot, and the results were still a referendum on him. The independents have had it.
So here's what I'm considering seriously enough to post about it: President Trump should resign. And the sooner, the better, for multiple parties and multiple reasons.
Every president holds a unique power: the ability to cast a single vote, an election between himself and his vice president. Nixon is the only president ever to have exercised it—when he resigned in 1974, he voted that Gerald Ford be president over himself. It's a live option, and for a president whose legacy is at risk of being permanently tainted, it may be the only serious one.
Consider the beneficiaries.
Trump himself. He could enjoy his remaining years without the pressure of life-and-death decision-making. He could resume his business and family life, continue as the celebrity he is, keep venting on his platform, keep giving interviews, keep stumping for candidates—all the influence, none of the weight. He could define his own legacy rather than have it defined for him.
The Republican Party. Everyone has wondered when the post-Trump era would begin. A resignation begins it immediately, and lets the party get to work on a long-term strategy while it still has a president in the White House to help shape it.
Vice President Vance. By many accounts Trump's own choice as heir, Vance would get the experience of presiding over the executive branch heading into 2028—and as an incumbent, he'd have the advantage. If he's any good, that's a two year audition followed by a real shot at two full terms. If Trump serves out his term, Vance gets none of that runway, and enters 2028 as a first-time candidate in a party still shadowed by its outgoing leader.
Independents. They shouted, almost in unison, that they've had it with Trump. A resignation gives them what they asked for—anybody but Trump—and it does so on terms the President controls, rather than terms imposed on him by a hostile electorate.
And then there's the model that I keep coming back to: George Washington.
Trump has said more than once that he considers our first President one of his heroes. Washington famously declined a third term when he surely would have won. Trump can't match that exactly—the Twenty-Second Amendment forecloses it—but as a second-term president in his final constitutionally permitted term, he can do the next best thing. He can resign, exercise that single-vote election, and vote that Vance be president. Washington would have done nothing wrong to run again in 1800; Trump would do nothing wrong to complete his term. It's his prerogative. But declining to continue—when continuing is possible but costly—is the Washingtonian move.
Whether or not Trump resigns soon, this is the shape of the choice. In an age where a third term is constitutionally impossible, the only president who can imitate Washington's refusal is a second-term president, in his second term. Trump should resign, make Vance the 48th President for a partial term, and give him the chance to win in 2028 and again in 2032. That would turn what looks like a resounding disaster this week into the beginning of a decade-long run.
The objection, of course, is ego. If Trump isn't a megalomaniacal narcissist (and for the record I do not think he is, certainly not to the degree his harshest critics claim he is), resigning is a live option—he could still wield enormous persuasive power as former president. If he is, then it isn't. But that's the thing about Washingtonian gestures: they're only available to people who are willing to make them.
I'm not saying this is the right choice. Every choice a president makes is fraught. But it's a plausible one, a live one, and—as I see it—Washingtonian in character. And if the chorus this week is going to demand a resignation, they should at least be honest about whose resignation would actually change the story.
[Full disclosure: I, as other TOL users have admitted to doing, used AI tools to help me craft the above. The ideas and essential content are all mine.]