Angina Monologue 35

“Where is your God now?”

I confess I was taken aback. His Majesty is a nonbeliever, naturally, but he has not usually been the snarky, condescending, ill-informed Richard Dawkins-style nonbeliever. But then I caught the faint hint of pleading in his voice.

It’s been quite a long time since His Majesty has had anything substantial to say about politics. A snark here, a mordant observation there, but nothing that would amount to an actual monologue. It worried me; a villain who is not monologuing is not a healthy, happy villain.

And His Majesty continues to visibly age. So help me, his wrinkles are beginning to get wrinkles. He finally granted me limited power of attorney, including permission for his physician to consult with me on caring for the Imperial Person, and it seems His Majesty’s blood sugar is up. I find this lack of insulin disturbing. My own pancreas was a casualty of that unfortunate incident on Musafar, and I take both my nourishment and my pancreatic hormones through a tube, monitored by the full-body Class C medical device that so many careless observers mistake for battle armor. But I hate to see the old monster becoming prediabetic.

But it may not be about His Majesty’s health. His uncharacteristic reticence on politics set in at about the time Trump was elected President. I think His Majesty honestly believed, up until that point, that the Republican Party might be a suitable vehicle for promoting His Majesty’s brand of conservatism. The hijacking of the Party by a populist neophyte was quite shattering for him. I imagine that nothing could be more depressing for a political junkie than discovering that the last remnants of the old politics have been swept away.

And then there was the exchange at breakfast just a few months back.

My porridge needs a bit of sweetening. Could you please bring me the salt shaker?

I must obey my master, but it’s tough when what he command makes no sense.

Well? What are you waiting for?

Are you sure it isn’t the Sucralose you want?

Quite. My porridge needs sweetening. I want to put some salt it in. Is that really so hard to understand?

… Yes … Wait. This has something to with “fake news”, doesn’t it?

Not precisely, although there is some connection.

(At about that point I realized that the book he was reading was 1984. The light went on.)

You’re indulging in your own version of Newspeak, aren’t you?

[cackling] Good, good!!

I braced myself for the monologue to follow, but it never came. His moment of sardonic mirth passed, and he was simply scowling at his breakfast again. Or perhaps it was the blood sugar thing. I wonder if His Majesty was feeling obligated reduce his carbohydrate intake, and though that simply eliminating words for sweets from his vocabulary might somehow help. His Majesty has long prided himself on his self-awareness and self-honesty (he has no problem lying to others, as long as it’s part of a well-thought-out strategy) so this would be an alarming shift in personality.

I needn’t have feared. His Majesty may be aging, but he’s a tough old Sith. It’s not his health that has been depressing his spirits, after all (though that can’t help), but the loss of a favorite hobby.

Because he seemed back to his old self at the breakfast conversation this morning. It’s Fast Sunday. Though I’m now an enthusiastic convert to Restored Christianity (we don’t call it Mormonism any more), I naturally don’t make a point of fasting, because I don’t eat in the first place. I do make a fast offering; oddly, His Majesty, though he sees no point in skipping a meal, usually slips a Grant into the envelope.

Only because Grant is bad luck.

Heh. In all our years of exile on this miserable, wonderful planet, I’ve never had a cashier try to foist a $50 on me when making change. So I’ve never had the need to pawn one off.

I mean no disrespect to your superstitions. But inasmuch as our currency and coinage all are embossed with “In God We Trust” — a very apropos caution, placed precisely where it is needed most — it seems clear whose negligence is to blame for the current free fall our civilization is experiencing. The Almighty is, after all, America’s Constitutional Monarch — the source of legitimacy as Author of natural rights, the embodiment of American ideals that is above politics, the Royal We, but apparently devoid of any actual power.

Well, several of the Founders were deists; those who weren’t (like Washington) seemed to believe they should speak and act like deists in public; and this civil deism was fairly widely practiced and tolerated until at least the 1960s. You’ve perfectly described the God of the deists.

And, of course, it was not worded “In Christ we trust.” That allowed Hebrews, Mohammedans, Indoos, and other miscreants to join the party.

That’s nasty even for you.

Thank you. It’s important to keep one’s hand in. And I fear some of your friends have begun to mistake me for a lovable old monster.

But this is a line of thought worth examining a bit further. What is it that prevents a political culture in a democracy from degenerating into a race to the bottom?

Nothing. That’s why I favor a republic with robust democratic representation.

But every such republic has eventually succumbed to the populist drive for increased democratic representation. The Electoral College was subverted into a weighted popular vote almost at once. The Senate held out longer but became a popularly elected body a century ago. The wolves are hungry, after all, and they outnumber the lamb two to one. Who has the right to deny them?

The judiciary and permanent bureaucracy, it would seem.

Very astute. The appearance of democracy is deceiving. And so there is the occasional populist uprising — but on the rare occasions when an uprising actually succeeds in overthrowing the judicial-bureaucratic complex, the result is bloody anarchy.

What about the American Revolution?

America really is exceptional.  Only the Glorious Revolution in Britain comes close. Both were reassertion of hard-won but traditional rights against an overreaching monarch. In a sense, they were counterrevolutions. But only in a sense, which is why the American Revolution is so exceptional. The radicals were co-opted, but not without imposing some of their ideas on the new government. These are reflected in the Constitution — which was nevertheless opposed by the radicals (including such luminaries as Patrick Henry), some of whom fomented a rebellion or two against the newly ratified order.

And yet we, too, are now under the thumb of a stifling judicial-bureaucratic complex.

Of course. It is unavoidable, my middle-aged apprentice. The judiciary replaced the priestly class of the religious states of the past. It’s why they wear robes. The bureaucrats replaced the old army, which was always more about controlling the subjects that fighting foreign wars. It’s actually an improvement, which is why so unpopular a structure nevertheless remains in place.

The judiciary are a learned profession which provides stability. Remember that professional did not originally mean good at what you do or doing it for money; the latter meaning only caught on among folks whose cultural tastes rose no higher than the local sports team. A profession was a guild whose members were sworn to uphold certain standards even when the customer was willing to pay them to break them. Shaw was not wrong to say that “Every profession is a conspiracy against the laity”, except that he said it like it was a bad thing. The old joke about “the oldest profession” falls flat with anyone who knows any real history, because it is precisely the opposite of the truth.

The judiciary are more noble and tolerable than the bureaucracy because they are bound by such professional standards, at least in theory. And, to a surprising extent, those standards still hold today. We are genuinely shocked when a judge is convicted of taking bribes, because bribery is not rampant. Lawyers are still disbarred for violating professional standards, though perhaps not nearly as often  as they should be.

You know something, Lord Vader? There is no greater threat to a democracy than an elite whose moral superiority is genuine. It’s a good thing the courts and the military have not found common cause. Still, it’s bad enough that the judiciary has found common cause with the bureaucracy. Bureaucrats have all the vices of professional soldiers without any of the virtues. The judiciary supplies the moral power and the bureaucrats supply the dirty hands.

But back to the question of what prevents a democracy going into free fall. The most enduring quasi-republic on Earth is Britain (formerly Great.) The British Parliament has effectively functioned as a republican government since the death of Victoria, the last monarch with any real power. Yet the existence of a constitutional monarch is part of the recipe for success.

Consider why monarchy has been such a popular form of government through most of human history. Part of it is that men are wired to organize themselves into hierarchies under a leader. This makes good sense. Even a really skillful leader cannot personally lead more than a handful of subordinates. They must in turn lead their own handfuls of subordinates, and so on, until the entire tribe is organized for the hunt. We’re wired for monarchy.

But another part of monarchy, perhaps its entire key, is that the man at the top is there by “divine right” and so cannot (in theory) be displaced by an ambitious and capable subordinate. And this is a good thing, Ambitious + capable = venal. Thwarted in his ambition, such a man may concentrate on being capable. The ideal of leadership is a leader who is capable but not ambitious, but such men do not seek leadership positions. In a monarchy, they do not need to; they are drafted by the King and serve at the Royal Pleasure. In a democracy, or in any system where a capable but ambitious man can act to realize his ambition, the venal will triumph.

But the point of political parties was to draft good candidates.

In theory, maybe, when political parties were led by elites. Of course, such elites invariably put their men in power for selfish reasons.

And yet, both Truman and Eisenhower were drafted, and were better than average presidents.

But no President is drafted by a political party that is truly democratic. And the nomination of Trump, and the near-nomination of Sanders, shows that the elites of the parties are losing control. The parties have become democratic, and this is not a good thing.

Now consider this: The ideal President is almost entirely unconcerned with making law; his function is to execute the law. He does not decide controversies; the judiciary is responsible for that. The President faithfully executes laws made by Congress and brings wrongdoers before the courts to be tried. Such a President is inherently nonpartisan.

Two problems with that. First, the President seems to have considerable power to set policy; the President can veto legislation, and therefore has a powerful influence on it; and a President nominates judges, who in turn hold real power to decide what form of government we live under.

Exactly the problem. The President has considerable power to set policy because he directs the bureaucracy, and the bureaucracy has been delegated effective legislative power by Congress. Among the unwisdoms of this situation is that it violates the separation of powers.

The veto has become much too powerful. Grover Cleveland, otherwise unremembered by Americans, had the most vetoes per term in office; FDR had more total vetoes but he served twice as long. Both had only about 1% of their vetoes overriden. George W. Bush vetoed relatively few bills but was second only to Andrew Johnson in the percentage overriden (33%). I’d argue that George W. Bush respected the legislative prerogatives of Congress more than any modern President, and I mean that as a compliment. Trump has yet to veto a bill, and I frankly don’t know what to make of it.

The real problem is the growing importance of judges, and what it has done to our politics. Character used to matter in the President, because character is the most important measure of an executive officer; his policy preferences ought to matter much less, because Congress is supposed to take the lead in policy. But we see the opposite in today’s politics.

From a character perspective, the last Presidential election was a nightmare. Hillary has perfected legal corruption to a high art. Trump’s character flaws are admitted even by most of his supporters. Johnson appeared to be visibly stoned in most of the interviews I saw of him. Stein, a physician, showed an unseemly unwillingness to disown anti-vaxxers among her supporters, and was utterly lacking in the experience needed for a President (as was Trump.)  From a character perspective, every one of these candidates was utterly unfit.

The Republicans, in nominating and then electing Trump, gave the game away. If character isn’t what matters most — and virtually every Republican voting for Trump admitted that it was in spite of his character — then Republicans no longer see the President’s executive functions as his defining role. Instead, almost every Republican supporting Trump that you and I know talked about his likely judicial nominations. For that matter, judicial nominations were high on the list of those Democrats supporting Hillary in spite of her manifest corruption.

In other words, it is not his executive functions, or even his policy preferences, that most define what a President means to the voters. It is his ability to nominate judges. We are no longer voting for a President; we are voting for an Elector. And that tells you who our real rulers are.

Hamilton was wrong.

His Majesty gulped down his metformin and began working on his porridge. I have to give him credit; he’s taking his medication, eating more fiber, and I think I actually heard him working on the treadmill. At least, the television in the exercise room was on, the treadmill was running, and His Majesty was cackling at Game of Thrones. I can’t stand the show myself.

Bismarck once said that “God has a special providence for fools, drunkards, and the United States of America.” I’m rather fond of the country myself. But I worry that His forbearance may be wearing thin.

I wish I had a solution to offer. All I can think to do is preach the Gospel.