On Friday, Donald Trump’s status as a convicted felon was made official in the New York courtroom of Judge Juan Merchan. As he handed down a sentence of “unconditional release,” the judge delivered a stern rebuke to the president-elect.
The New York Times reported that Merchan “acknowledged that “the office of president carries with it a “legal mandate,” but that it does not take away from the seriousness of the jury verdict….’Donald Trump the ordinary citizen,’ ‘Donald Trump, the criminal defendant,’” the judge suggested, “would not be entitled to the protections of the presidency…him from the seriousness of the verdict.”
What happened in the Manhattan courtroom was made possible when, the day before, the United States Supreme Court turned down the president-elect’s request that it enjoin his sentencing. The same day SCOTUS ruled, the ultra-conservative Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals made headlines when it refused another of Trump’s requests.
It overturned the injunction issued previously by Federal District Court Judge Aileen Canon, preventing the public release of Special Counsel Jack Smith’s reports on Trump’s stolen documents and election interference cases.
But as Politico noted, it “left in place an order from U.S. District Judge Aileen Cannon — the judge in one of those cases — that in its current form bars Attorney General Merrick Garland from releasing the report through at least Sunday.”
Like Politico’s treatment of the Eleventh Circuit ruling, other commentators rushed to throw cold water on any fleeting sigh of relief brought by the Supreme Court decision. For example, as Vox’s Ian Millhiser pointed out, “Even in this low-stakes dispute, four justices dissented. That suggests there is strong support within the Court for reading the July immunity decision very broadly.” And, looking to the future, Millhiser warned, “(I)f any one of the five justices in the majority should flip their vote, Trump will prevail the next time this dispute arrives on the Supreme Court’s doorstep.”
But, even as we acknowledge the limits of last week’s court decisions, we should be attentive to the reality that defending the rule of law in dark times is an inch-by-inch, yard-by-yard endeavor. Every inch or yard defended or taken is important, not just to the success of the endeavor overall, but to the morale of those leading the struggle and their ability to resist giving up in the face of long odds.
Sustaining that work requires both a long-term perspective and a short-term willingness to appreciate victories whenever they occur. We can learn that from other legal struggles, including the work of cause lawyers who battled racial segregation and those who have opposed the death penalty.
I’ll say more about that in a minute, but before doing so, let’s recall what the president-elect’s lawyers wanted the Supreme Court to do.
They urged the Court to “enter an immediate stay of further proceedings in the New York trial court to prevent grave injustice and harm to the institution of the presidency and the operations of the federal government."
They offered a preview of coming attractions along the way and reprised the president-elect’s talking points. They claimed that an appeal they would subsequently file would “result in the dismissal of the District Attorney’s politically motivated prosecution that was flawed from the very beginning, violated President Trump’s due process rights, and had no merit.”
They urged the justices to extend their notorious criminal immunity ruling to cover the president-elect. As they put it, “(A) sitting President, or President-elect, does not have to subject himself in any case to an individual judge’s case-by-case balancing of the burdens on the Presidency—an inquiry that itself violates the separation of powers and the Supremacy Clause.”
Trump wanted the Court to hold that “the New York trial court lacks authority to impose sentence and judgment on President Trump—or conduct any further criminal proceedings against him.”
Four of the Court’s most conservative justices agreed. That’s the bad, but not surprising, news.
On the other hand, it is noteworthy and heartening that Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Amy Comey Barrett joined the Court’s three liberal justices in drawing a line in the sand. While lines in the sand don’t generally have great staying power, I think the New York Times’s Adam Liptak offered the right assessment in his reporting on the SCOTUS ruling.
In Liptak’s view, “(T)he 5-to-4 vote in the case… provided a vivid and telling snapshot of the court as it prepares to face a second Trump administration.” He suggested that Roberts’s “vote on Thursday was of a piece with the old Chief Justice Roberts, the one who cast the decisive vote in 2012 to uphold the Affordable Care Act…and the one who rebuked Mr. Trump when he went after a federal judge who had ruled against his administration’s asylum policy.”
Liptak also highlighted what he called Justice Barrett’s “independent streak” and concluded that “A snapshot is just a moment in time, and it does not predict what the future will bring. But there is some reason to think that it will not be all smooth sailing for Mr. Trump.”
Not “smooth sailing” does not offer a lot of reassurance for people worried about what they see as the president-elect’s authoritarian tendencies and whether the Court will be up to the task of reigning them in. But they should not write it off.
They should learn from the long struggles of lawyers who, in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, worked against incredible odds to secure civil rights for Black Americans. They should also attend to the experience of lawyers working to end America’s death penalty in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, at a time when public support for the death penalty was overwhelming, and courts were mostly hostile to their arguments.
One civil rights activist offers a valuable lesson for today’s advocates for the rule of law. "The persistence of a movement,” she rightly suggests, “comes down to the persistence of the activists." Michael Meltsner, an extraordinary activist, civil rights lawyer, and death penalty abolitionist, adds that such persistence requires remembering “a different time, one which will come back to us.”
Those comments are a reminder that action in the face of injustice is sustained by hope. As the Reverend Jesse Jackson advised an earlier generation of activists, “(H)ope, faith and dreams will help you rise above the pain. Use hope and imagination as weapons of survival and progress.”
That hope can only be sustained if we celebrate victories whenever they come.
In my research on death penalty lawyers who practiced from the mid to the late twentieth century, I heard much about that need. They often talked about the work of “redefin(ing) success.”
“Wins in terms of getting people off death row are very rare, and getting new trials are also very rare,” one lawyer told me. “So you set your sights keeping your client alive from stay to stay, getting through an execution date, keeping your client alive.”
Another said, “(T) the people I represent, they basically live their lives from stay to stay. They know the death penalty is not going to go away, so they live in 30-day increments. And you are successful every time you buy them an additional 30 days.”
In the struggle for justice, he observed, “You start looking at winning and losing in different ways.”
With that in mind, let those who are now in the trenches doing battle to save the rule of law treat last week’s SCOTUS and Eleventh Circuit decisions as “different” kinds of wins. Doing so will help sustain the necessary and arduous work that likely lies ahead for them and all of us.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.




















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.