Before we Hand Over the Keys Again

Like so many of us, I’ve been watching the individual running our country with fascination, shock, anger, despair, and a persistent sense of what-the-fuck that feels insurmountable. But lately, I’ve also been obsessing over the next person we hand the keys to – and what questions we should ask that we never thought we needed to before… this.

How do we make sure they understand that those keys are on loan?
I’ve come up with a few things we could establish before that next handoff…

1. The job doesn’t make the person.

During his first term, we were told he would “grow into the office.” That the responsibility would make him more thoughtful, more measured, more aware of the consequences of his actions. That’s a spectacularly casual hiring strategy for a job with nuclear weapons. Giving someone power doesn’t give them judgment. Next time, let’s judge the person who’s applying, not the person we hope the job will turn them into.

2. “He’s a businessman” is no longer enough.

So’s the guy who took your deposit and never finished your kitchen. We need a few more qualifications. A good businessperson knows how to hire capable people, listen to expertise, manage complicated problems, and take responsibility when things go wrong. Wealth and a talent for self-promotion don’t establish any of that. And even an excellent businessperson needs to understand that the country isn’t their company. We’re not their employees. Next time, “I ran a business” needs to be the beginning of the interview, not the end.

3. Being presidential actually means something.

I don’t need a president who knows which fork to use. I need one who can take criticism without making it a national emergency or sounding like a snack-deprived toddler. Self-control, grace, honesty, judgment, and an understanding that words have consequences should be qualifications for the job. Next time, basic self-control should be a prerequisite, not a pleasant surprise.

4. Lots of what we thought were rules turned out to be expectations.

We expected presidents to respect boundaries, disclose conflicts, and separate their personal interests from their public responsibilities. We’ve learned the hard way that some presidential limits depended on presidents agreeing to be limited. Next time, we need to know what actually stops a president who decides the limits don’t apply.

5. Checks and balances require people with the backbone to enforce them.

Congress can have all the constitutional authority in the world, but it accomplishes very little if its members won’t use it against a president from their own party. Their oath should outweigh the prospect of an unpleasant primary. Next time, let’s ask congressional candidates what they’re willing to do when the president crossing the line is theirs.

6. Being caught lying doesn’t necessarily cost someone anything.

Lots of us assumed there was a point at which dishonesty would become disqualifying. But exposing a lie only matters if people care that they’ve been lied to. “All politicians lie” is a pathetic excuse. We need to believe a president when a crisis arrives. Next time, a candidate’s record of dishonesty should cost them our trust before it costs us something worse.

7. Presidents must be willing to lose.

Ask for a recount. Present evidence. Go to court. Those avenues exist for good reason. But there has to be an end to the process. “I only accept the results when I win” is why family game night gets canceled. It can’t be the operating principle of a democracy. Next time, someone who won’t commit to accepting a legitimate defeat shouldn’t be trusted with a victory.

8. Pardons should never be rewards for loyalty.

Mercy matters. Correcting injustice matters. Presidents should take that responsibility seriously. But sweeping clemency for people whose crimes supported a president’s effort to remain in office begs a question: what does that encourage the next group to do? And what does it tell the officers, election workers, and public officials who may have to stand in their way? Next time, promises to pardon political loyalists should count against a candidate, not help elect them.

9. The presidency shouldn’t be a money-making opportunity.

The presidency is a public service, not a business opportunity. Putting your children in charge of your businesses while you serve doesn’t eliminate a conflict of interest; it only changes who answers the phone. And “he’s too rich to be bought”? Since when has having plenty of money ever stopped anyone from wanting more? Next time, we need a credible plan for separating public duties from private financial interests, not a family staffing announcement.

10. The country’s property isn’t the president’s property.

The presidency gives someone a place to live in the White House, not ownership of it. Our public buildings, institutions, and history belong to the country. They aren’t the president’s to demolish, edit, or stamp their name on at will. Irreversible changes deserve careful review and someone empowered to say no. Next time, let’s establish that we’re hiring a caretaker, not handing over the deed.

11. Complicated problems don’t get solved in a day.

A war. Grocery prices. The economy. All resolved immediately, apparently. Please, I have spent longer trying to cancel a magazine subscription. Trust us enough to tell us the plan, the costs, and the trade-offs. Someone who understands a problem should be able to explain why the hell it’s difficult. Next time, an impossible deadline should make us question the promise, not applaud it.

12. The president’s behavior gives other people permission.

When a president models cruelty, mocks expertise, or judges women by their looks, it gives others permission to do the same. Children learn it. Adults excuse it. Next time, let’s ask what behavior a candidate makes acceptable and whether we want more of it.

13. You’re president of the whole country.

People who didn’t vote for the president still deserve protection, disaster relief, and respect. They’re Americans, not a customer list you get to unsubscribe. Next time, let’s listen carefully for which Americans a candidate leaves out of “our country.”

14. Being a world power requires more than announcing how powerful you are.

I don’t need other countries to like us. But I do want them to trust our word and respect our judgment, rather than wonder what the hell is wrong with us – or him. Next time, let’s look for someone who earns that respect without having to announce it.

15. Winning isn’t a permission slip for everything that follows.

An election gives someone a job with defined powers and responsibilities. It doesn’t entitle them to win every argument, or use the country’s lawyers and law enforcement agencies to settle personal scores. They work for US. They aren’t the president’s revenge department. We still get to question the president. Congress still gets to oversee them. The law still applies. Next time, we need to hear what a candidate believes they cannot do as president.

16. Our standards can’t depend on whose side we’re on.

If something would outrage us under a president we oppose, it deserves scrutiny under a president we support. This includes dishonesty, financial conflicts, pardons, abuses of power, and accepting election results. Principles are supposed to survive the inconvenience of applying them to someone we like. Next time, let’s apply the standard we’d demand if the other party won.

17. We need safeguards that work when the president doesn’t.

We should elect people with integrity, but we need protections for the times we don’t: clear limits, independent oversight, and consequences that don’t depend on party affiliation. We need people willing to do their jobs, especially when doing them becomes uncomfortable. Next time, let’s elect representatives prepared to stop presidential misconduct, not spend four years explaining it away.

18. Confidence isn’t competence.

I don’t need a president with a degree in economics or law. I do need one who understands how their proposals work, who pays, and whether they’re legal. We’ve learned that “another country will pay for it” deserves a few follow-up questions. Tariffs? A wall? Walk us through the payment arrangements. We ask schoolchildren to show their work. Next time, “trust me” needs to be followed by “show us.”

Well, that’s what I’ve learned.

Before we hand over the keys again, we need better questions and much less patience for stupid answers. We also need to make the terms clear: the country belongs to all of us. You’re being trusted to look after it.

“I thought that went without saying” has already cost us enough.

NOTE: this image was AI-generated.