A loyalty-forward government has formed right before our eyes. Jared Kushner has been tapped to help lead the Israel–Hamas talks. He wasn’t chosen for his expertise in delicate diplomacy; he was chosen because he’s the president’s son-in-law—and because some around him seem to treat his Jewish identity as if that alone were a qualification aligned with a pro-Israel posture. Identity and proximity are not expertise. That’d be like putting Linda McMahon in charge of the Department of Education because she once (seemingly!) went to school. Oh wait, we did that too. What are we doing here?
Zoom out from the Kushner headline and the method snaps into focus. First, elevate friends, family, donors, and media allies into roles once filled by deeply vetted and experienced professionals. Second, lean on “acting” titles and novel personnel rules to dodge scrutiny and degrade accountability. Third, purge the referees—advisory boards, inspectors general, nonpartisan civil servants—so the only guardrail left is personal loyalty. It’s governing by who you know, not what you know.
This critique applies no matter who holds power; institutions should require and reward expertise and accountability over proximity in every administration.
The appointments tell the story better than any memo. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. isn’t qualified to steward evidence-based public health just because he has a famous name and contrarian vaccine takes; a viral message board isn’t an epidemiology degree, and dismissing all 17 members of the CDC’s vaccine advisory panel doesn’t make the science stronger. Kristi Noem isn’t qualified to run Homeland Security just because she once shot her own misbehaving puppy; that anecdote may sell books, but it’s not a credential in border security. Doug Burgum isn’t qualified to steward 500 million acres of public land at the Department of the Interior just because he rode a horse in a campaign ad; public lands require land managers, not pitchmen. Chris Wright isn’t qualified to referee disputes between energy companies and conservation requirements just because he ran a fracking company; that’s like having the owner of one team throw on the stripes to call the game. And Sean Duffy may have starred on The Real World, but that doesn’t mean he can steer us out of The Real Mess at DOT.
You can laugh—some of this begs for gallows humor—but the consequences are not funny. Expertise is actually the safety gear of a complex republic. Swap a diplomat for a son-in-law and you don’t just change the vibe; you change the odds of misunderstanding, escalation, and unforced error. Replace independent scientific advisers with loyalists and you don’t “balance” a conversation; you bias the conclusions toward what the boss already believes. Jam agency leadership with people chosen for proximity and performance and you don’t get “bold disruption”; you get brittle systems that fail under stress.
The personnel trick pairs neatly with a process trick. “Acting” titles have become a multipurpose bypass around the Senate’s advice and consent. Acting this, performing-the-duties-of that—if everyone is acting, then no one is accountable. Add in a push to revive a Schedule F–style reclassification to convert swaths of career roles into at-will positions, and the message to professionals is plain: your tenure depends on loyalty, not law. That chills dissent, silences warnings, and drains the institutional memory that keeps the federal government from repeating its worst mistakes.
If you’re tempted to shrug and say “elections have consequences,” sure. But the Constitution also has consequences. The founders didn’t build a government of vibes; they built one of institutions—messy, slow, and designed to force competence to rise over time. The vetting, the hearings, the career ladders, the advisory panels—those are the scaffolding of a stable government for the people, not just a Beltway formality. Hollow that out, and you don’t just get different policies; you get a different country—one where the state serves a person, not the public.
There’s a reason this has been sold as “draining the swamp” since 2016. It flatters the instinct to blow up anything that looks bureaucratic. But look closely: much of what’s being drained is competence. Once drained, the basin is quickly stocked with loyalists. And once you’ve replaced referees with fans in team jerseys, the home team rewrites the rules.
This is why the Kushner example matters more than the day’s headlines suggest. The Middle East desk at the State Department is not a thought experiment, and the families trapped in the crossfire aren’t extras in someone else’s theater. Diplomacy is a profession, honed over years by people who study maps, languages, histories, and the art of turning the temperature down. Treating it like a family franchise is tacky, sure—but mostly it’s dangerous.
So keep your eye on the method, not just the mayhem. When a loyalist appears in a role that used to demand deep expertise, say so. When an “acting” title lingers, ask why the Senate hasn’t been given its constitutional shot. When advisory boards are purged, don’t let it pass as a staffing footnote—explain what those boards do, who sits on them, and how their absence tilts decisions. When someone waves away criticism with “outsiders bring fresh thinking,” remind them that outsiders can and do serve—after transparent vetting, within the law, and alongside the experts who will still be there after the cameras leave.
We don’t have to accept government by entourage. Call it out in real time. Push back where you can—local hearings, public comments, professional associations, watchdog letters, sunshine requests—and refuse to trust a process that doesn’t value expertise, experience, and the checks and balances our Constitution requires and centuries of practice perfected. You’re watching it live. Don’t look away.Brent McKenzie is a writer and educator based in the United States. He is the creator of Idiots & Charlatans, a watchdog-style website focused on democratic values and climate change. He previously taught in Brussels and has spent the majority of his professional career in educational publishing.