Molineaux is co-publisher of The Fulcrum and president/CEO of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
A mentor and teacher commented, “Humans regulate other humans.” This came on the heels of a few days of mild depression, where I chose to numb out and turn off the world; I was alone and without accountability to others. I had moved from respite to wallowing, and these few words called me back to my normally determined self. The idea that “humans regulate other humans” registered for me on several levels: mental, emotional and physical.
First, while I was numbing out, I watched a documentary on cults. Research has documented that we are most at risk of being radicalized into extremism or cults when we lose our sense of self; this is often preceded by feeling lonely, depressed, powerless and lacking a sense of meaning. Into this void of identity steps someone who seeks to exploit others in their most vulnerable moments. Only other people can intercede, offering hope of a better future and a sense of belonging. “Humans regulate other humans” hit this squarely. Unfortunately friends and loved ones are often ill equipped to offer connection, support, sympathy or understanding. Instead, offering rejection and ridicule which only serves to drive our loved ones further into the arms of the exploiters.
Second, our human bodies are neurologically wired for connection to each other and nature. Walking in the forest or on the beach offers me a sense of wonder and connection to something greater than myself. Scientifically, the fewer connections we have, the sooner we die. When we are alone, our thoughts recycle and with each cycle, our thinking often becomes more perverted due to lack of community sense-making. Mentally and emotionally, we are our strongest in the arms of a healthy community.
Third, when we are in a community, cultural norms ensure the survival of the community. They regulate how we live together for the collective’s sake, not the individual. In the United States, we enshrined this in our Constitution and subsequent rule of law. This is the cultural norm we share, above all others. Or at least, we used to. Humans regulate other humans, right?
Today, competing groups of citizens are claiming the rule of law means different things to them. One group claims the rule of law for all people, challenging inequities and abuse of power. Another group claims rule of law has been corrupted by the ruling class, and it is up to citizens to set it right. I agree with both claims. Corruption is rampant and the rule of law must be challenged for its failures to treat all people equally.
Here is our catch-22 in all its glory. We haven’t yet imagined a set of cultural and social norms that is truly inclusive of our rich diversity. So we judge harshly and fight about cultural norms, trying to force others into what is most comfortable for us. And as we focus on the fight, we turn off our imagination, just when we need it most.
The pandemic has radically changed our sense of safety in the world, as has our political climate, extreme weather conditions and social unrest. Everything we thought was predictable is being stripped away so we can create anew. It can be exhilarating instead of terrifying if our imagination is not stifled by the harshness of the fight around us.
A close friend quipped to me recently, “I’m so tired of being resilient.” As we spent more time together, I found her assigning intent to others for actions she found objectionable. “How can they be so gullible?” or “They are just followers, not able to think for themselves,” she would state. When I offered other possible interpretations, she took exception that I was “making excuses for them.” I had a choice to make. I had more knowledge of intentions due to the diversity of my friends group and work life. But the norms of our relationship has always been to avoid conflict, and that was the direction we were heading.
I chose to stop offering alternative explanations that challenged her “knowing.” Should I have? Was I really being helpful by avoiding the discomfort of our times? Like many of us, she is exhausted by our social upheaval and the implications on her life. I chose not to add more uncertainty or hardship. I made the best decision based on norms and compassion, but wish I had found a way to respond that didn’t require one of us shutting down part of who we are.
We’ve been through a lot in the last few years. Like our ancestors who endured the pandemic 100 years ago, two world wars, a financial crisis and extreme weather, we will survive. And out of our trials, we will find a social cohesion that transcends our troubles and is the best we can imagine for ourselves. Let’s start with compassion, kindness and imagining a better future that allows us the freedom to be who we are, within our community.




















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.