Walking the plank

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Eight years ago we stood on a similar precipice as we awaited the start of a Donald Trump presidency. Despite obvious similarities, the mental headspace this time feels different. Whereas in 2017 it felt like we were on the up ramp of a newly-built roller coaster with unknown safety standards, this time around we know what to expect. We’re walking the plank, and we know exactly what awaits us at the end: waters brimming with sharks.

There was a sense the first time around that Trump represented a temporary state of being; a mass psychosis that could be cured by marches and protests and a successful midterm election. The most noticeable difference is that we had energy and an insatiable need to do something to ward off the feelings of anxiety. Nearly half a million people attended the Women’s March in DC, plus millions of others at satellite marches around the country. We knew things were bad, but with better days still in the near-past, we remained optimistic of righting a rogue ship.

At the end of the year I wrote about luxuriating in silence before what would surely be a bombastic year. But now, with four days until the inauguration, the fuse has been lit. Trump is in the canon, about to be propelled to new heights.

Compounding the feeling of walking towards existential catastrophe is the possibility of a ceasefire in Gaza. After the October 7th massacre of 1,200 Israelis followed by 15 months of the mass killing of Palestinians by the Israeli Army, it’s possible one humanitarian and geopolitical nightmare may be halted as another one is set to begin right here. It is undoubtedly good news for the people of Gaza who managed to survive while watching their cities ground to dust. But Israeli airstrikes have continued since the news of the agreement, with 73 additional Palestinians dead overnight. And with Trump, a staunch supporter of Israel out of political convenience, coming back to power, it’s difficult to imagine a lasting peace in the region. And certainly there is little peace to come at home.

Even before getting officially sworn in, the confirmation hearings for his cabinet members have commenced. Last time around I sat glued to C-SPAN as the hearings for his first cabinet unfolded. Every zinger lodged by Democratic senators at Betsy DeVos, Jeff Sessions and their cohort was a dopamine hit akin to landing a hit in whac-a-mole. Finally the Libs were owning them. It was a Senatorial Smackdown! A continuously satisfying series of snacks that distracted from what we could imagine, but not fully conceptualize, was coming.

This time, we know. This time around, catching clips and quotes from the confirmation hearings and the stories of palace intrigue just don’t hit the same. 

Is it terrifying that Attorney General nominee Pam Bondi wouldn’t commit to upholding birthright citizenship, a right protected under the 14th Amendment to the Constitution? Yes. Is it concerning that Treasury Secretary nominee Scott Bessent thinks extending the Trump tax cuts is "the single most important economic issue of the day”? Absolutely.

On the flipside, was it satisfying to hear Senator Tammy Duckworth (D-IL) stump Defense Secretary nominee Pete Hegseth with a simple foreign policy question? Indubitably. And was it amusing when Senator Tim Kaine (D-VA) grilled Hegseth about his serial infidelity? Obviously. 

But what undermined the impact of each of these things is the foreknowledge that this administration is real, it’s happening, and there isn’t actually a formal opposition party planning to kneecap it. While we linked arms in 2017 like a nationwide game of Red Rover, daring Trump and his allies to come at us, this time it feels like surrender is the name of the game. 

Perhaps this is a sign of personal growth, that we understand better how a constant posture of resistance can be personally harmful, and also undermine our actual goals. A political ideology cannot run alone on what it is against. But while Republicans may be sore winners, in many ways it feels like we’re content losers. 

While Trump behaved like a caveman on the campaign trail, he delivered his intentions with the precision of a marksman. He would deport all the immigrants, and maybe even some citizens; he would cater to the richest and most powerful to further ease their lives at the expense of everyone below them; he would protect white, Christian America from anyone who didn’t fit in that category; and, above all, he would never do anything that wouldn’t serve his personal interests. And a majority (however slim) of voters said, “Sure, sounds good.” In response we were all Daria, halfheartedly extending our hand to block a volleyball that had already passed.

Perhaps it’s not that we’ve given up, but that we’re figuring out the allocation of finite resources. 

On Wednesday night the news broke that Republican House Speaker Mike Johnson had removed Rep. Mike Turner (R-OH) as chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. 

“Turner is one of the most pro-Ukraine, anti-Putin Republicans and as intelligence chair has access to the gritty details of what our adversaries are up to,” Dylan Williams, VP for Government Affairs at the Center for International Policy wrote on Bluesky. “This is an intra-party purge in the service of opponents of our democracy — and a preview of what’s coming when Trump takes power in five days.”

Political scientist Seth Masket added, “Trump getting Turner booted as House Intel chair while making Tulsi Gabbard DNI [Director of National Intelligence] is absolutely a five-alarm national security fire.”

Reading these words, I was transported back to the early days of Trump’s first administration where there were more life-threatening fires than present day Los Angeles. I recalled how dealing with them often meant sacrificing my own personal mental health in an attempt to put out a blaze for which I didn’t have the proper hose. 

Masket’s comment stirred something in me, and I asked in earnest, “What are we supposed to do with this information?” And now, some hours later, I think I found the answer: Before allowing your cortisol to spike, ask yourself if you have the right hose. If the answer is no, observe the information, file it away, and keep moving. It’s okay to recognize when it’s not time to be in fight mode.

As we head towards the final weekend of the Biden presidency and walk those last few paces towards the end of the plank, take a moment to look out at the expanse. While it’s easy to feel consumed by what’s right in front of our noses, remember that the world and our history are so much larger than this one thing. Perhaps we’re about to freefall into political nothing–but that doesn’t mean we need to lose ourselves along the way.