If you want to understand what makes the United States exceptional on an emotional level, take an in-person or virtual trip to both Mt. Vernon, Virginia, and Paris, France. At Mt. Vernon, you can tour the preserved and reconstructed plantation of George Washington, viewing what the tour claims is the first compost bin in the nation and reading about the particular way he organized his gardens.
The most important part, though, is his grave. The first President of the most powerful nation on Earth rests in a modest brick mausoleum about ten feet high, built into a hillside. The plain white room containing the sarcophagi of Washington and his wife is barely larger than the two coffins themselves.
The French have a very different tomb dedicated to the founder of their modern nation. Emperor Napoleon rests in a stone sarcophagus on a raised dais in a huge domed building. To American eyes, the building looks like one of our state capitals, complete with columns, domes, Greco-Roman reliefs, and multiple entrances. The room containing the sarcophagus is opulent, with detailed carved statues of Roman figures, golden trim, ornate hanging lamps, large windows, and a large second-story balcony. It is less a grave than a temple, deifying the person of the Emperor.
This striking difference tells you much of what you need to know about why the United States has done so well for so long. The father of our nation and his contemporaries did not believe in deifying their leader. Washington was keenly aware of setting a humble precedent by everything he did, from limiting himself to two terms to adopting the title “Mr. President.” His legacy to all of us was not in his personality, but in the processes and structures he built that lived on after he did. By his design, we pay respect to our founder by operating the wondrous democratic machinery he first showed us how to operate.
My opinion of Washington as the best American President is not unanimous. Many studies that rank the Presidents place Abraham Lincoln first, while Washington tends to appear somewhere in the top five. This always struck me as unfair. Lincoln was remarkable, to be sure, and ending the scourge of slavery guarantees his place forever as one of the best Presidents. Yet, he arrived on the scene with a particular existential problem to solve - a civil war that was clearly about to erupt over the slavery question. His capacity for greatness was amplified by exterior forces presenting him with a clear crisis.
Washington, more than any other President, arrived with a blank slate. His existential crisis had come years before, when he survived a war with Great Britain. By the time he came to office, the most serious existential dangers to the country came in the form of future risks. Washington’s challenge in office was not so much how to defeat an enemy in front of him, but how to build a system that could handle enemies in the future. It is harder to create than to destroy, and harder still to build a strong structure for a future you cannot fully predict.
Process theory suggests that the aim of a law should not be to obtain a particular substantive result, but to adopt and defend processes that tend to lead to good results. It isn’t hard to see the utility of this approach. People are going to disagree about what is good and what is bad and to what degree. Some such disagreements may be distant from the passions of most citizens, like what kind of crops to encourage farmers to grow or who to hire for a government construction contract. Others may be very close to the heart, such as whether to outlaw abortion or how immigration should work. In each case, because there are passions and well-reasoned arguments pulling in different directions, there has to be some process to decide what to do. A core function of government is helping mediate that outcome.
Washington wasn’t a process theorist exactly. In fact, he did not write much at all about the philosophy behind his governance. But his instincts were very process-based. He believed that a regular process was what distinguished the republic from the extremes of monarchy or mob rule. He strove to mediate carefully and fairly between the political divisions of the day among his own cabinet members and in his interactions with Congress. Even his more extreme actions, like putting down the Whiskey Rebellion (a major use of federal military force against citizens), came from a sense of duty to uphold duly enacted law rather than any sense of solving a problem by any means necessary. Washington left us with an example and a legacy of respect for the process and for the rule of law.
There will always be those who feel passionately in the correctness of their substantive position and who believe anyone who feels differently is evil. After all, if you believe you have the best interests of the country in mind and you’ve determined the right solution to a problem, doesn’t that mean anyone who disagrees with you must be treasonously acting against the country’s interests? This is a very natural trap to fall into, and some of the less successful Presidents did so. President Adams passed heavy-handed censorship laws based on this logic, called the Alien and Sedition Acts, which are now widely recognized as ineffective.
Thinking of anyone who has a substantively different opinion as evil is a mistake. We are all limited as human beings, impacted by our life experiences, knowledge, and skills. Indeed, the major benefit of the rule of law is as a way to mediate differing ideas, leading to better results than a single person’s judgment alone. A fair process must be respected and accepted to make this happen. To declare that the process should not stand in the way of one’s own passionately held belief is Napoleonic hubris.
Disregarding the rule of law to force through a result is also extremely dangerous. People are going to have disagreements no matter what processes are in place. If there is no agreed upon process for resolving those disagreements, the parties will decide the issue some other way. The most ancient method is physical violence. Without a respected legal process, if two neighbors disagree over how much water each is extracting from the stream, murderous action could end that disagreement. In addition to being morally abhorrent, that process does nothing to make sure the decision was made correctly.
Adherence to the established rule of law as a way of solving problems leads to better outcomes. Similarly, the idea of a single strong leader who cuts through the “red tape” of process to fix a problem is similarly flawed. A modern state is a massive, complex system. No single person understands its operation alone. Swift, decisive action simply results in faster bad decisions.
We best honor the legacy of George Washington and others responsible for the freedoms we enjoy by respecting the process that was their greatest legacy. None of us will always agree with the results of the process. But the last two hundred years of the United States becoming the leader of the world should give us powerful evidence that the rule of law is effective. Washington did not need a gaudy display of opulence to declare his successes, as the greatness of his hard work has thundered for hundreds of years.
Colin E. Moriarty is a partner at Moriarty Underhill LLC and a volunteer with Lawyers Defending American Democracy.




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.