The people who crossed party lines on November 3 have something important to tell the winners. They are willing to give Democrats a chance. That is not the same as giving them their loyalty.

Van Z. Hampton is a 71-year-old retired Kansas judge. He voted for Donald Trump twice. On Tuesday, he voted a straight Democratic ticket for the first time since Jimmy Carter’s election in 1976.

I don’t know Mr. Hampton, but I understand something about his political journey.

A seeker, not a convert

In interviews reported by Sabrina Tavernise in The New York Times, Hampton described his disgust with corruption in the Trump administration. Then he offered the Democrats who had just won an extraordinary victory some advice:

“not because we love you, but because we need you to do the right thing. Be wise about support you got.”

I would put those words on the wall of every newly elected Democratic member of Congress.

Hampton did not tell the Times that he had discovered socialism or fallen in love with the Democratic platform. He described a party he once supported as having lost its moral and political bearings. Faced with that, he voted for its opposition.

That is an act of political judgment, not necessarily an ideological conversion. And it may be the most important distinction for Democrats to understand after November 3.

I know what it means to leave a party

I was born in 1946, into a Republican family. I am a fourth-generation Republican by political inheritance, although that is no longer how I identify myself. I voted for Ronald Reagan twice. I have never voted for Donald Trump.

My separation from the party wasn’t sudden. It developed over years as the Republican leadership abandoned positions I had regarded as fundamental, and as the Tea Party movement rewarded political hostility over practical governance. Trump completed a transformation that had been underway long before he descended that escalator in 2015.

I didn’t change my mind about the value of private enterprise, the importance of constitutional restraints, or the need for a government that can actually perform its responsibilities. I came to believe that the party I had supported no longer respected those principles.

That is an uncomfortable experience. A political party isn’t supposed to be a religion or a hereditary allegiance. Yet leaving one can feel like losing the language with which you’ve described your political beliefs for most of your life.

I suspect Hampton and I would disagree about a good many policies. That’s beside the point. We appear to have reached a similar conclusion about the Republican Party’s submission to Trump.

And there are many Americans who reached that conclusion much more recently.

The politically homeless

The Times interviewed a train-design engineer in South Carolina who had voted for Trump in 2024 and now regretted it. A naturalized American in Georgia worried about his ability to retire and the influence of money on politics. An independent in Maine split his ticket between Republican Susan Collins and a Democratic House candidate because civility mattered to him. A Texas independent, raised in a Republican family, supported Democrat James Talarico because he wanted less division.

These people do not constitute a scientific sample, and their stories do not tell us how every voter thinks. But they reveal motives that can disappear when election coverage reduces the country to two colors on a map.

Some have lost confidence in Trump’s promises about prices and war. Others are disgusted by dishonesty and self-dealing. Some simply want to disagree with their neighbors without being told they are enemies.

They are looking for a political home, or at least a government they don’t have to be ashamed of.

The early national exit polling offers an important supporting fact: roughly one in five voters who backed a Democratic House candidate nevertheless viewed the Democratic Party unfavorably.

Think about the implications. A meaningful part of the winning coalition voted for a party it did not particularly like.

Democrats received those votes because the alternative had become unacceptable. If they interpret them as expressions of party loyalty, they will have misunderstood the electorate before the new Congress is even seated.

This wasn’t a neatly labeled move to the left or the center

One of the people Tavernise interviewed was Jeff Fawaz, a Michigan small-business owner who had voted for Trump twice. He became disillusioned with Trump’s promises about war and small businesses. In this election he backed Abdul El-Sayed, a progressive Democratic Senate candidate.

That doesn’t fit the tidy story of a nationwide march toward ideological moderation.

Nor does the Maine independent who voted for a Republican senator and a Democratic representative fit the story of a wholesale conversion to the Democratic Party.

Both examples make sense once we stop treating voters as pieces that can only move left or right on a political game board.

People judge whether officials tell the truth, keep their promises, understand their problems, and exercise power responsibly. They may vote for candidates with very different policy positions while making those judgments.

November 3 was clearly a rebuke to Trump and the Republicans who enabled him. It does not follow that Americans have adopted a socialist economic program. But neither does it prove that every successful Democratic candidate won by moving toward the center.

The more defensible conclusion is also the more useful one: voters crossed ideological boundaries to demand an end to conduct they could no longer tolerate.

What normal government once meant

For most of my adult life, I have watched the relationship between wealth and political authority change. We built an extraordinary middle class in the decades after World War II under a system that remained unmistakably capitalist, but placed meaningful limits on corporate and financial power.

It wasn’t a perfect society. Far too many Americans were excluded from its full benefits. But its basic economic premise was sound: enterprise should create prosperity, and working Americans should share in it.

That broad understanding survived administrations of both parties. It was gradually weakened by political decisions that favored concentrated capital, diminished labor’s bargaining power, and allowed money a greater role in determining who governs.

Trump is not the origin of that process. He is its most conspicuous present beneficiary.

I don’t think the people Tavernise interviewed are necessarily asking for a return to the 1950s or even using the language of the New Deal. That is my historical frame, not theirs. But their complaints about prices, corruption, money in politics, and the loss of common decency are consistent with a desire for something Americans once considered normal: a government that acts in the public interest.

That is a powerful basis for a new political consensus. It is not a demand for ideological purity.

Votes are lent, not owned

The Democrats now have the ability to restore meaningful congressional oversight, investigate abuses of public office, and challenge policies that have made life harder for ordinary Americans. They can pursue honest government, competition, fair taxation, affordable healthcare, and better economic opportunity without pretending that everyone who voted for them agrees on every policy.

They should also recognize that donor influence and political self-interest are not confined to Republicans. A party cannot credibly promise to limit oligarchic power while exempting its own benefactors from scrutiny.

Most important, they must remember that public confidence is earned through conduct. Citizens who have watched politicians treat every election as a license to impose a faction’s preferences have good reason to be skeptical.

There is no guarantee that the voters who crossed party lines this year will do it again. Some will return to the Republicans if that party reforms itself. Some will remain independent. Others may become Democrats, but only if Democrats give them reasons to stay.

Van Hampton’s warning is therefore not just advice to a victorious party. It is a description of how representative democracy is supposed to work.

An election does not convey ownership of the voters. It conveys temporary authority to govern in their name.

The Americans who turned away from Trump did not necessarily come home to the Democratic Party. Many simply walked through the only door they believed was open.

Whether they stay depends on what they find on the other side.

Further reading: America Voted Against Trump, Not for Socialism

They Voted for Democrats. They Haven’t Become Democrats. was originally published in The Political Prism on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

America’s political divisions did not begin in the twenty-first century.

Except when George Washington stood unopposed for President in 1788, our elections have always been rough and tumble affairs marked by fierce rhetoric, accusations of corruption, claims of voter fraud, and charges that elections were stolen. Political campaigns have rarely been gentle debates of ideas. More often, they have been bruising battles for power and public opinion.

Today, television, radio, direct mail and social media are saturated with political advertisements warning the opposing candidate represents a threat to the nation’s future. Candidates from both major parties routinely portray their opponents as dangers to the country, democracy or cherished American values.

President Trump has made accusation against Democrats a recurring theme at his political rallies. He has repeatedly asserted, without any evidence, that the 2020 election was stolen and the Democrats are trying to steal the mid-term elections.

Yet, Trump is not the first losing presidential candidate or political movement to claim the election was wrongly decided.

Long before social media, cable news, and modern polling, the United States experienced one of the most controversial elections in its history. The election of 1824 left many Americans questioning whether the will of the people had been subverted. The accusations that followed became known as the “Corrupt Bargain,” a phrase that still echoes throughout American political history today.

While the election of 2020, unfolded under very different circumstances, both contests reveal how questions of legitimacy can profoundly influence public trust, deepen political divisions, and reshape the political landscape for years to come.

To understand why the “Corrupt Bargain” became one of the most enduring accusations in American political history, we must return to a time when there was only one political party and no clear successor to President James Monroe.

The End of the Era of Good Feelings

Beginning in 1814 with the signing of the Treaty of Ghent that brought the War of 1812 to an end, the United States entered a period of rising nationalism and relative unity that became known as the “Era of Good Feelings.” The Federalist Party had largely ceased to be a significant force in national politics, leaving the Democratic-Republican Party of Thomas Jefferson and James Madison as the nation’s dominant political organization.

President Monroe embodied this spirit of unity. In 1820, he won reelection with only token opposition, receiving all but one electoral vote. To many Americans, it appeared that the bitter partisan battles of the nation’s early years had faded into history.

Yet beneath this surface of harmony, powerful forces were pulling the country in different directions.

Regional rivalries were growing. Economic interests increasingly divided the commercial Northeast, the agricultural South, and the rapidly expanding West. Personal ambitions among a new generation of political leaders simmered just below the surface. By 1824, those tensions would erupt into one of the most contentious elections in American history.

At the same time, a revolution was underway in American politics. For the first time, the popular vote mattered on a truly national scale.

More states were allowing voters rather than state legislatures to choose presidential electors. By 1824, eighteen of the nation’s twenty-four states selected at least some electors through popular vote. Most had adopted a winner take all system in which the candidate receiving the most votes captured all of the state’s electoral votes.

The electorate itself was also changing. During this period, most states eliminated property requirements for white male voters, dramatically expanding political participation. For the first time, ordinary citizens witout wealth or property were entering the political process. These new voters often cared less about national political figures than about issues affecting their states, regions, and communities. The expansion of voting rights, however, did not extend to women, free African-Americans, or the millions of enslaved people living in the United States.

Meanwhile, the traditional system for selecting presidential nominees was beginning to unravel. For years, party leaders in Congress had effectively chosen presidential candidates through congressional caucuses. But as the electorate expanded and regional identities strengthened, that system lost most of its authority. State political organizations increasingly promoted favorite-son candidates with strong regional followings rather than rallying behind a single national choice for president.

The Democratic-Republican Party soon fractured into competing factions; each centered on a prominent political leader. Without a strong opposition party to unite against, ambitious men within the same party began competing for the presidency.

The political system that had carried the nation through the administrations of Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and James Monroe was beginning to unravel. As voting expanded, regional loyalties strengthened, and party discipline weakened. Four ambitious men emerged to claim the presidency. What appeared to be an era of national harmony was, in reality, a nation on the verge of political transformation.

Four Candidates, One Party

For the first time in the nation’s short history, the Federalist Party did not field a presidential candidate. Every major contender belonged to the Democratic-Republican party. Secretary of War, John C. Calhoun of South Carolina initially sought the presidency but withdrew early to run virtually unopposed for Vice President.

The crowded field included four powerful and ambitious men. There was John Quincy Adams, the son of former President John Adams and serving as secretary of state. William H. Crawford, secretary of the treasury under both James Madison and James Monroe was the choice of many political insiders. Representing the growing West were Speaker of the House Henry Clay of Kentucky and Tennessee Senator and war hero Andrew Jackson.

Rather than choosing between competing political parties, voters found themselves choosing among four rival factions of the party, each representing different regional priorities and visions for the country’s future.

In many ways, the election resembled a family feud. The question was not which party would govern but which vision of America’s future would prevail.

The Statesman

John Quncy Adams was widely considered Monroe’s heir apparent as his secretary of state. As secretary of state, he occupied a position that many Americans viewed as the stepping stone to the presidency. The three previous presidents had all served in that office before being elected.

Far more than simply being the son of former President John Adams, Quincy Adams had built a distinguished career of his own. He served on various diplomatic missions, helped negotiate the Treaty of Ghent that ended the War of 1812, and earned a reputation as one of the nation’s most accomplished statesmen.

His deep foreign policy experience combined with his support for protective tariffs and federal investment in roads and canals made Quincy Adams the natural choice for many voters in New England and those who favored national economic development.

Quincy Adams campaigned on competence, experience and effective government. Yet he struggled to connect with ordinary voters. To many Americans in an increasingly democratic age, he appeared aloof, intelluctual and aristocratic.

The People’s Champion

General Andrew Jackson was a larger-than-life figure. The hero of the Battle of New Orleans he had won national fame through his military victories during the War of 1812 and subsequent campaigns against the Creek, Seminole, and Cherokee tribes.

Jackson entered the race as a political outsider. Unlike his rivals, he was not closely associated with the Washington establishment. Many supporters saw him as a self-made man who had risen from humble beginnings through courage and determination.

To western settles and ordinary voters, Jackson represented something new in American politics. He appeared willing to challenge entrenched political elites and defend the interests of common citizens. Some admirers even compared him to a second George Washington; a military hero called to national service.

His critics, however, questioned whether military fame alone qualified a man for the presidency.

The Visionary

Speaker of the House Henry Clay, known as the “Great Compromiser,” was one of Washington’s most influential politicians. He first gained national prominence as the leader of the “War Hawks” who pressed for war with Great Britain in 1812.

Clay’s political support lay in Kentucky and the growing western states. Charismatic and persuasive, he cultivated friendships throughout Congress and became one of the most skilled legislators of his generation.

Clay campaigned on a bold economic vision known as the American System. It called for a National Bank, protective tariffs to encourage American industry and federal investment in roads and canals and other internal improvements. He believed these policies would bind the nation together and promote long-term economic growth.

Despite his influence, Clay struggled to build a truly national coalition, limiting his appeal outside the West.

The Insider

Secretary of the Treasury, William H. Crawford represented the traditional wing of the Democratic-Republican party. A longtime government official and slaveholder from Georgia, he drew support from Southern planters and established party leaders.

Crawford appeared to be the natural choice of the Democratic-Republican party organization. A poorly attended congressional caucus formally nominated him for president. In an era of expanding democracy and growing distrust of political insiders, establishment backing proved less valuable than it had in the past.

His greatest challenge was his health. In 1823, Crawford suffered a serious stroke that left him partially incapacitated. Despite concerns about his ability to serve, he remained in the race with the support of Martin Van Buren and New York’s political machine.

Each candidate drew strength from a different region and a different vision of America’s future. The election produced no clear winner and no national consensus. When the votes were counted no candidate had secured an Electoral College majority, throwing the election into the House of Representatives and setting the stage for one of the greatest political controversies in American history.

After a brutal campaign filled with mudslinging by supporters of each candidate, Americans went to the polls in 1824 with no clear favorite. When the votes were counted, however, Andrew Jackson appeared to have emerged as the nation’s leading candidate. Yet, months later, someone else would take the oath of office.

No Majority, No President

Jackson won 99 electoral votes and more than forty percent of the popular vote in those states that directly elected presidential electors. John Quincy Adams followed with 84 electoral votes, while William H. Crawford received 41 and Henry Clay finished with 37.

In 1824, there were 24 states and a total of 261 electoral votes. To become president, a candidate needed a majority, or 131 electoral votes. Jackson’s 99 electoral votes fell well short of that mark. With such a crowded field of regional candidates, few were surprised that Election Day ended without a clear winner.

Following the controversies surrounding the 1796 and 1800 elections, the Twelfth Amendment had been added to the Constitution to address precisely this situation.

Under the Twelfth Amendment, the election moved to the House of Representatives. Each state delegation received a single vote. A majority of states was required to win, meaning a candidate needed the support of 13 states to become the next president.

As the fourth-place finisher, Henry Clay was eliminated from contention. But as Speaker of the House, he remained one of the most influential politicians in America. His failure at the ballot box did not diminish his importance.

Although Clay could no longer become president in 1824, he still possessed the power to help determine who would.

As Speaker of the House, members of Congress looked to Clay for leadership and guidance. Following the election, Clay carefully considered which candidate to support. Although he personal disliked John Quincy Adams, Adams supported Clay’s “American System” of protective tariffs and federal funding for internal improvements designed to promote economic growth.

Clay also viewed fellow Westerner, Andrew Jackson, as a political rival whose popularity threatened his own future presidential ambitions.

After meeting with Adams and weighing his options, Clay announced his endorsement for the Massachusetts statesman. He dismissed Jackson as little more than a “military chieftain,” arguing that he lacked the training and temperament necessary for the nation’s highest office.

Over the next few weeks, Clay lobbied House members, called in favors and twisted arms to build support for Adams. At the same time, there were rumors that congressmen were asking for ambassadorships or appointments to cabinet positions in the future administration in exchange for their votes.

Adams needed Clay’s endorsement. It helped shore up support among influential members of Congress and made the aristocratic New Englander more acceptable to western lawmakers loyal to Clay. Many members of the House regarded Adams as the most experienced and qualified candidate in the race.

Just weeks after Clay endorsed Adams, the Philadelphia newspaper, Columbian Observer published an anonymous letter containing a bombshell allegation. The author accused Clay of using his influence as Speaker to deliver the presidency to Adams. In exchange, Adams would nominate Clay as his Secretary of State.

The letter went even further. It alleged that Clay offered the same arrangement to Jackson who supposedly rejected it. The charge portrayed Jackson as the victim of a backroom deal, and as a man of principle who had refused to participate in political corruption. The anonymous writer descried the alleged “corrupt bargain” as, “one of the most disgraceful transactions that ever covered with infamy the republican ranks.”

Clay vehemently denied the allegations. He demanded an investigation, and challenged the anonymous author to come forward publicly in a letter to the Daily National Intelligencer. Pennsylvania Congressman Geroge Kremer took responsibility for the letter and claimed he could back up its charges. However, when called before the House Investigatory Committee, Kremer refused to testify.

On February 9, 1825, the House of Representatives elected John Quincy Adams president on the first ballot. Adams carried the votes of 13 state delegations. while Jackson won 7 states and Crawford received 4.

Jackson and his supporters were stunned. Jackson had won more electoral votes than any other candidate and attracted the largest share of the popular vote. Yet the presidency had slipped from his grasp. According to contemporary accounts, when Clay announced the results, spectators in the House galleries erupted in a chorus of boos and hisses so loud that Clay ordered the galleries cleared.

Legally the constitutional process had worked as the Twelfth Amendment prescribed. John Quincy Adams became the nation’s sixth president. For Andrew Jackson and his supporters, legality and legitimacy were not the same thing.

The Election That Changed American Politics

Adams entered the White House victorious, but his presidency began under a cloud of suspicion that would follow him for the next four years and reshape American politics for generations.

Just three days after taking office, Adams named Henry Clay as his secretary of state. The appointment reignited rumors of a “Corrupt Bargain” in Washington and in newspapers across the country. Although Jackson had initially been gracious in defeat, Clay’s nomination confirmed, in his mind and in the minds of many supporters, that a backroom deal had denied the people of their preferred choice for president.

Whether a bargain actually existed remains a matter of historical debate, and most historians doubt that it did. The truth of the accusation mattered less than how it appeared to the public. To many Americans, the sequence of events seemed impossible to ignore. Clay had helped Adams win the presidency, and Adams had rewarded Clay with the cabinet position most closely associated with future presidential ambitions.

Jackson did not quietly return to Tennessee. Almost immediately, he began laying the groundwork for another run at the White House in 1828. Pro-Jackson newspapers throughout the country spent the next four years attacking both Adams and Clay portraying them as symbols of a political establishment willing to ignore the will of the voters.

The phrase “Corrupt Bargain” became the rallying cry that united Jackson’s supporters and energized a growing political movement dedicated to rooting out corruption and privilege in government. Long before the next election arrived, Jackson and his allies had transformed a disputed election result into a powerful political cause.

The aftermath of the election of 1824 and the accusations of a “Corrupt Bargain” permanently fractured the Democratic-Republican Party and brought the “Era of Good Feelings” to an end. Adams and Clay began the National Republican Party, while Jackson and his backers used the Democratic-Republican label before shortening it to Democrats.

The election of 1828 ushered in a new era of mass political campaigning. Presidential candidates were no longer selected by congressional caucuses, they were replaced by state conventions and party organizations. Voters were gaining a greater role in choosing the president, directly voting for presidential electors in all but two states. Public opinion mattered more than ever before.

A nationwide press campaign emerged in support of Jackson, with newspapers praising his candidacy while targetingAdams and Clay. Both campaigns organized rallies, parades, public celebrations, and other events to energize supporters and attract new voters. Food, drink, music and spectacle became increasingly important tools of political persuasion.

Mudslinging also played a major role for both candidates. Hand bills and pamphlets circulated widely, often spreading rumors and personal attacks that bore little resemblance to the truth. Jackson was accused of bigamy because his wife Rachel’s divorce had not fully been finalized when they married. He was also portrayed as a violent duelist and reckless gambler. Adams, meanwhile, was depicted as an out-of-touch aristocrat who lived lavishly at the public’s expense. Critics attacked him for purchasing a billiard table for the White House with tax dollars and painted him as a symbol of elite privilege.

When voters finally rendered their verdict in 1828, Jackson won decisively, defeating Adams with 178 electoral votes to Adams 83. Four years after believing the presidency had been stolen from him, Andrew Jackson completed one of the most remarkable political comebacks in history.

Whether a corrupt bargain actually occurred remains a matter of debate among historians. No evidence exists that it did. What is beyond dispute is that millions of Americans came to believe that one had occurred.

The election of 1824 did far more than determine a president. It shattered the nation’s only political party, gave rise to a new political movement, expanded the role of voters and ushered in a new era of mass political campaigning. In the process, it transformed American politics from a system dominated by political elites into one increasingly driven by personality and public opinion.

More than two centuries later, the election’s enduring legacy is not found in who won or lost, but in the power of public perception. As 1824 demonstrated, when large numbers of citizens question the legitimacy of an election, the political consequences can last for generations.

The Election of 1824 and the Corrupt Bargain was originally published in The Political Prism on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Donald Trump learned that one of his former personal lawyers had secured a contract worth more than $50 million from a family whose patriarch was seeking a presidential pardon.

A president concerned about the integrity of his office might have asked what services justified the money — and whether access to the White House had been traded.

According to reporting by Tyler Pager in “Trump Erupted After Learning of Alina Habba’s $50 Million Deal,” The New York Times, October 29, 2026, Trump did not take is calmly.

The focus of Trump’s anger

But the reported focus of his anger was the size of the deal — and his belief that some of the money should go to his presidential library or another Trump-related organization.

Apparently, the problem wasn’t the prospect of someone profiting from proximity to the president. It was who would collect the proceeds. That distinction tells us something important about Donald Trump.

More troubling, it tells us something about the political system that continues to protect him.

The money, the pardon, and the questions

The lawyer is Alina Habba Mildon, who represented Trump personally and later served briefly as U.S. attorney in New Jersey. The Times reports that while working as a Justice Department adviser, she signed a four-year agreement with a company established by the daughter of Venezuelan billionaire Julio Herrera Velutini.

The agreement provided $10 million annually, plus bonuses, guaranteeing more than $50 million over four years. The company, Concord Partners, has little public profile and an unclear business purpose.

Habba Mildon formally began the work on January 1. Weeks later, Trump granted Herrera a full and unconditional pardon for a misdemeanor campaign-finance violation. Herrera had previously faced felony bribery charges before reaching an unusually favorable plea agreement.

Habba Mildon says she played no part in obtaining the pardon. The article does not establish that the contract purchased clemency or that Trump accepted anything in exchange for granting it.

Suspicion is not proof. But the public has every right to demand an explanation of enormous private compensation so close to the exercise of presidential power.

When the boss wants a share

A presidential library is not a private checking account. But a president attempting to influence where the proceeds of a private arrangement go — especially one connected to people who sought a presidential favor — raises serious ethical questions.

It is the attitude that stands out.

Trump’s reported response sounds less like a public official concerned about conflicts of interest than a boss who has discovered that someone else made a profitable deal using his name and influence. He wants a share directed to his cause.

The Times described another episode. Republican consultants James Blair and Chris LaCivita received substantial fees for advising Republika Srpska, a pro-Russian government in the Balkans. After Trump criticized them, they said they would donate those fees to his presidential library fund.

Is access to the president becoming a business whose proceeds he believes should be shared with his favored institutions? We should not leap to a criminal verdict. But neither should we pretend the conduct is ordinary.

The presidency is not a franchise. The authority of the office belongs to the American people, not to the man temporarily occupying it.

A government built to restrain people like this

The Constitution was not written on the assumption that presidents would be virtuous. The Founders understood the temptations of power. They divided authority because they knew what happened when it was concentrated.

I’ve spent more than half a century designing software systems. Any system that relies entirely on its operators behaving honorably is badly designed. It needs independent checks and ways to detect failures.

The Constitution contains such checks. Congress can investigate. Courts can enforce the law. Voters can remove officials who refuse to honor their obligations.

But there is a problem no design can solve by itself: the people responsible for exercising those checks can choose not to use them.

I remember when Republican leaders finally confronted Richard Nixon with the reality that he had lost the support needed to remain president. They recognized a duty larger than loyalty to their president.

Too many of their successors have reversed the priority.

They treat oversight as a partisan attack, criticism as disloyalty, and accountability as something to demand only when the other party holds power.

The constitutional machinery is still there. Its operators are refusing to do their jobs.

The market in political power

This did not begin with Trump.

For decades, organized wealth has expanded its influence over American government. Lewis Powell’s 1971 memorandum urged business leaders to organize politically. Changes in campaign finance, including Citizens United, expanded opportunities for wealthy interests to shape elections and policy.

Trump did not create that system. He is an especially revealing beneficiary of it.

Wealth buys influence. Influence secures access. Access creates opportunities for private gain. Those who benefit have every incentive to preserve the relationships that made the gains possible.

When public officials regard those financial opportunities as an entitlement, we are no longer talking merely about campaign contributions or lobbying.

We are approaching the logic of kleptocracy: public authority treated as a resource for private advantage.

The $50 million contract does not prove that America has become a kleptocracy. It warns what happens when the boundary between public authority and personal enrichment erodes.

And a Congress that refuses to enforce those boundaries becomes part of the problem.

November 3rd is an opportunity to restore a check

The coming midterm election will not remove Trump from the presidency. It can, however, remove some of the members of Congress who have made it easier for him to escape serious scrutiny.

Congress need not decide whether a president is a good man before investigating conflicts of interest. It need only apply the same standards regardless of party.

That is what voters should demand.

Look at the record of the people asking to represent you. When troubling facts emerged, did they ask questions or invent excuses? Did they exercise oversight or attack those who tried? Did they defend the constitutional responsibilities of Congress, or surrender them to the president because he wears their party’s label?

Voting intelligently means judging on evidence, not anger, fear, or tribal loyalty. I have voted for Republicans and Democrats. Defending the Constitution is not a partisan preference. It is an obligation of public office.

The political party most captured by the grift

Republicans who repeatedly excuse misconduct and disable accountability should lose their seats. The same standard must apply to Democrats when they hold power.

The president may enjoy extraordinary authority, but Congress is not supposed to be his protection detail.

Trump reportedly wanted a cut of a $50 million arrangement. On November 3rd, the voters have an opportunity to make a different kind of cut: to remove congressional enablers who have confused public service with loyalty to one man.

The Constitution has not been broken as a piece of machinery. It is being broken in the way a law is broken — by people who disregard its obligations and expect no consequences.

We can start restoring those consequences at the ballot box.

Author’s note

The 2026 mid-term elections may be among the most consequential in decades. On the promise that “Only I can fix things”, American voters gave Donald Trump the chance to do just that.

Each and every American voter has the opportunity to give their verdict on Donald Trump’s leadership by shaping a Congress that is capable of just saying “No!”

If you agree with the case this essay makes, please share it — it’s not behind a paywall — and repost it to your social media accounts if you can.

The scams only work if we voters don’t compare notes.

For further reading: Trump Is Over a Line No President Has Ever Crossed

The President Wanted His Cut was originally published in The Political Prism on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

On October 21, 2026, a New Mexico judge ordered Meta to pay a $25 billion civil penalty. A jury had found nearly 44 million violations of the state’s consumer-protection law. The case grew out of Facebook’s role in the Cambridge Analytica scandal but went further, examining what the company told users about privacy, third-party access to personal information, misinformation, and hate speech.

It is a modern story of social media, personal data, and immense corporate power. But after reading Brittany Kaiser’s “Targeted,” I kept thinking about something bigger. The scandal matters, of course, but the underlying issue runs deeper. Our online habits, hopes, insecurities, and quirks can be collected and studied. That information can shape what we see, hear, and believe. So, here is the question. How difficult is it to shift what you believe? What happens when old persuasion techniques meet oceans of personal data, powerful algorithms, and AI?

Crowd Psychology: The Original Influence Machine

Go back to 1895, when Gustave Le Bon published The Crowd. According to Le Bon, crowd leaders relied on three techniques of affirmation, repetition, and contagion. Repeat an idea enough and it starts to feel familiar. Once it spreads through a group, people may forget where they first heard it.

That does not mean every lie becomes gospel just because you hear it often. But repetition can make a claim feel more credible. If you encounter the same claim in ten places, it can seem like ten independent confirmations, even whenall ten repeat the same unsupported assertion.

Bernays: Turning Crowd Theory Into PR

A few decades later, Edward Bernays, a pioneer of modern public relations, put psychological ideas to work. In his 1928 book Propaganda, he argued that people working behind the scenes could influence public opinion. Bernays understood that persuasion gains force when a message connects with existing motives. A car is not merely steel and wheels; it can represent freedom, status, or belonging. Political messages work similarly. They can be framed around fear, hope, or pride. The underlying proposition may stay the same while the emotional appeal changes.

You have heard the line attributed to Joseph Goebbels: “Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.” Hitler discussed the “big lie” in “Mein Kampf,” while Nazi propaganda used repetition, powerful imagery, emotional appeals, and tight control of information. The Holocaust Memorial Museum documents how such techniques helped construct Hitler’s public image and mobilize support for the regime.

The Repetition Effect

A 1977 study demonstrated why familiarity can feel like truth. Participants tended to rate repeated statements as more truthful than unfamiliar ones. This became known as the “illusory truth effect.” A 2026 review of more than 180 studies involving over 31,000 participants found a small but consistent effect of repetition on perceived truth. Of course, repetition is not everything. Prior beliefs, identity, emotion, and trust in a source also matter. But the same claim can now move rapidly from television to Facebook, YouTube, and group chats. A sense of familiarity can be manufactured at enormous scale.

Enter Facebook and Psychographic Targeting

Cambridge Analytica brought political persuasion and individual-level data together in a troubling way. According to the FTC, information obtained through a Facebook personality app was used to create personality scores, connect them with U.S. voter records, and support political targeting.

About 270,000 people used the app directly, but Facebook’s rules at the time also allowed access to some information about their friends. Facebook later estimated that up to 87 million profiles may have been affected. Cambridge Analytica promoted something more specific than predicting party preference. It involved tailoring messages and emotional appeals to psychological characteristics.

How Many Data Points Do They Really Have?

In 2018, Cambridge Analytica CEO Alexander Nix told Parliament that the company had “4,000 or 5,000 data points on every adult in the United States”. But former employee Christopher Wylie later clarified that this described database fields, not thousands of completed facts about every individual. Many fields were missing for most voters.

Rather than knowing 5,000 secrets about every American, Cambridge Analytica combined commercial, voter, survey, and online information and inferred what it could from incomplete records. That is a less sensational claim and a more accurate description of the risk.

OCEAN: Personality Profiling at Scale

Cambridge Analytica promoted the “OCEAN” personality framework, consisting of Openness, Conscientiousness, Extraversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism. These are five broad personality dimensions, not five categories of voters. The theory was that people with different traits might respond differently to the same political appeal.

A 2015 study found that Facebook Likes could reveal surprisingly much about personality. With about 10 Likes, the computer model could outperform a coworker; with 70, a friend or roommate; with 150, a family member; and with roughly 300, a spouse. These comparisons concern predictions of personality traits, not proof that anyone could predict a person’s vote or control their decisions.

Imagine two voters who both support gun rights. One worries about crime, the other values independence. A conventional campaign might show them the same ad. A psychographic campaign could test a fear-based message with one and a freedom-based message with the other. Personality-matched ad research found improved engagement and purchasing outcomes under some conditions. That is evidence of potential influence, not evidence that Cambridge Analytica determined an election.

Who Ran Cambridge Analytica?

Cambridge Analytica was not merely a technology startup. Billionaire Robert Mercer backed it, while Rebekah Mercer and Steve Bannon played important roles. Bannon served as a vice president before leading Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign and later becoming a White House strategist. The ambition was to combine voter files, psychological modeling, and digital targeting. But a sophisticated targeting system does not turn voters into robots or establish that one firm decided an election.

The $25 Billion Judgment

The New Mexico judgment illustrates the legal stakes. A September 2026 jury found nearly 44 million violations involving Facebook’s representations about personal data and its handling of misinformation and hate speech. On October 21, the court imposed $25 billion in civil penalties. This was a civil judgment, not a criminal conviction, and it does not establish that Cambridge Analytica “brainwashed” voters.

The real worry is not some magic switch planted in your head. It is that organizations can build increasingly detailed models of your preferences and responses, test messages until one works, and deliver them without you ever noticing. Most users have no idea whether any of this is going on.

The Algorithm Does Not Need to Persuade

Cambridge Analytica tried to tailor messages that would persuade people. Modern recommendation systems can influence what we encounter without explicitly trying to change our minds. Click on a conspiracy video, and a feed optimized for engagement may recommend similar material. The system does not need to know what you believe to learn what keeps you watching.

Feed-ranking research suggests that engagement-based systems can amplify emotionally charged and polarizing political material. But the effects vary by platform, experiment, and outcome; seeing more extreme material is different from adopting an extreme belief. Even when a feed changes, the accounts we have chosen to follow can continue shaping what we encounter.

The Feedback Loop

The loop can be simple. You engage with certain content; the platform serves more like it; and the repeated exposure makes the material increasingly familiar. No single mastermind is necessary. User behavior and automated ranking reinforce each other.

AI: The New Persuader

Now AI adds a new dimension. It can do more than deliver an advertisement. It can conduct a conversation, respond to objections, and adapt its arguments. A 2025 AI-persuasion study in the United States, Canada, and Poland found that chatbots shifted some participants’ candidate preferences. Persuasion often came through reasoned arguments and evidence although some factual claims were inaccurate. These experimental results do not tell us how large the effects would be in ordinary elections.

The progression is striking crowd psychology, public relations, mass media, microtargeted ads, recommendation feeds, and now interactive AI. Each stage has increased the capacity to select, repeat, and adapt the information people encounter.

Critical Thinking Still Matters

The essential distinction is that persuasion is not mind control. People are not empty vessels waiting to be programmed. Advertisements are ignored. Beliefs can change, resist change, or even harden in response to opposing messages.

Exposure, attention, belief, and behavior are different outcomes. Cambridge Analytica had large datasets and ambitious models, but that alone does not prove it changed millions of minds or determined the 2016 election result.

Still, the risk is real. Organizations can gather data quietly, test emotional appeals, and repeat tailored messages at enormous scale. Even modest effects can matter when they reach millions of people. The most useful defense is not to assume that we are immune, but to ask where a claim originated, who benefits from spreading it, and whether independent sources are merely repeating one another.

You Are Not As Hard To Manipulate As You Think was originally published in The Political Prism on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Dan Sullivan wants Alaska to vote for Dan Sullivan and not Dan Sullivan. Weirdly for him, Dan Sullivan wants the same thing.

That's the problem facing Alaska’s Republican senator Dan S. Sullivan who now has to share a ballot with the retired teacher Dan J. Sullivan. One is defending his Senate seat and the other defending his right to run for it.

At first it seems nothing more than a goofy situation but after having a deeper look at it there might be a lot more going on behind the scenes.

In June, Alaska's election director cited several reasons for questioning Dan J. Sullivan’s, The Retired Teacher, candidacy some of which are suspicious to say the least.

He had only recently registered as a Republican, had started using a website similar to that of the senator and what I think is the weirdest … had also requested the ballot name “Dan S. Sullivan.”

Can’t Ban Dan!

Given the above circumstances, officials removed Dan J Sullivan from the race stating that he sought to mislead voters. He disputed and the courts restored his place on the ballot.

The court restored Sullivan to the ballot because election officials had relied on a “good-faith” requirement that Alaska’s election laws did not contain. In simpler words, just because they suspected a political trick doesn't give them the legal authority to exclude the person from the race.

But it all wasn't for nothing. The official general-election list now identifies the senator as Dan S. Sullivan, a Republican and the incumbent. His namesake appears as Daniel J. Sullivan Jr., undeclared.

So at least the voters now have clues to figure out who the right Dan is.

A Democrat In Disguise?

An October 28 New York Times report alleged that operatives linked to Democratic challenger Mary Peltola’s campaign helped recruit the second Sullivan and other potential spoilers.

According to ABC News’s account, a former Peltola campaign manager said Peltola was aware of the effort, then later sought to retract her statements.

Now both Peltola and Dan J Sullivan deny the others involvement with their campaign. Its not like they have a reason to admit to it anyways.

Now if recruiting a person with a similar name to confuse voters was really the strategy, that's just sad. But it does seem like something so stupid that no one would truly think of it as malicious. It was only a matter of time before the government took notice.

The Government Would Like a Word

The federal response became a story of its own.

Federal investigators have now started to look into how Dan J Sullivan even entered the race, on the other hand, the Justice Department has asked a court to keep ballots ranking him separate to investigate confusion. It also wants Alaska to not confirm a winner if the senator loses as the disputed votes could have changed the results. Trump says he directed the department to bring the civil case.

But how do you prove someone voted the wrong Dan?

Some voters might actually prefer the teacher over the senator. Sharing a name doesn't make every vote for the retired teacher a mistake.

An investigation must be done , but how officials can rule certain votes as “mistakes” remains to be seen.

The Second Choice Matters… A Bit

Alaska lets voters rank candidates in order of preference. If a candidate is eliminated from the count, a voter’s ballot can move to their next remaining choice.

What this means is if they mistakenly rank teacher Sullivan as their top choice and Senator Sullivan as their second choice, if the teacher gets eliminated the votes go to the senator instead.

So if trying to confuse the voters was the plan to win an election, it wasn't a very good one to say the least.

But this has become a much bigger issue as now the government might get to interpret the votes as they seem fit. Which might sound scary at first, but it doesn't really get much better.

So if any Alaskans are reading this, better check which Dan they are voting for and the government should be careful about telling you which Dan you meant.

Will The Real Dan Sullivan Please Stand Up? was originally published in The Political Prism on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.