WP: Trump and law firms: Who’s bamboozling whom?

David Kendall writes:

The deals do not appear to have been formalized in bilateral documents, signed by the parties and specifying respective duties, obligations and penalties for noncompliance. Though some of the firms have issued internal documents (which have quickly made their way to the media), none of these appear to have been approved by the Trump administration.

In addition, the two sides’ accounts of the agreements often seem asymmetrical. Trump, for example, in an executive order revoking the original executive order regarding Paul Weiss, claimed the firm “will engage in a remarkable change of course” and “specifically … has acknowledged the wrongdoing of its former partner Mark Pomerantz.” (Pomerantz left Paul Weiss in 2021 to work on a criminal investigation of Trump.) The firm made no such acknowledgment in public.

Such informality about legal obligations would ordinarily be anathema to a firm’s corporate practice. It would simply be unthinkable to negotiate a $100 million handshake deal without ensuring that the essential terms were clarified and set out in writing and then signed by both sides. It certainly would be a red flag for a firm’s malpractice insurance carrier.

The New York Times posts:

Robert C. Post, a law professor at Yale, argued in an email that by acting with such speed that his adversaries have been caught by surprise, Trump has been unexpectedly successful in the opening months of his second term:

“The entire society has been taken aback by the suddenness and violence of Trump’s first 100 days. He has worked astonishing innovations in the exercise of executive power. Much of what he has done is obviously lawless.

“Trump has seized the high ground in the belief that possession is nine tenths of the law. He has dared the courts to defy him. And the courts are on this point cautious, because, as has been true for hundreds of years, their authority depends upon the force of their reason.

Many of Trump’s executive orders suggest that he cares little about legal reason. To speak figuratively, Trump cares only how many divisions the courts can mobilize. In such circumstances, the force of judicial reason depends upon public opinion, and Trump is presently still on a honeymoon with the sectors of the public that elected him.”

Trump’s strategy is to divide his adversaries, Post wrote:

“Unbound by law, immune to shame, the Trump administration has unleashed the full force of the executive branch on institutions of civil society like universities and law firms.

“Civil society is splintering under the assault. Harvard resists; Columbia bends the knee. Paul, Weiss bows in obeisance, Perkins Coie sues. Resistance is genuinely difficult, because the main institutions have left themselves exposed to blackmail from the federal government that has determined to trash all previous norms of behavior.”

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In Covid’s Wake: How Our Politics Failed Us by Stephen Macedo and Frances Lee

Grok says:

In Covid’s Wake: How Our Politics Failed Us by Stephen Macedo and Frances Lee, both Princeton political scientists, is a provocative examination of the U.S. response to the COVID-19 pandemic, focusing on political and institutional failures. The book argues that the pandemic exposed deep flaws in public deliberation, with policies driven by groupthink, politicized science, and a failure to weigh costs and benefits. Below is a critique of the book’s strengths, weaknesses, and overall contribution, drawing on available reviews and analysis while critically assessing its arguments.

Strengths

Rigorous Political Lens

Macedo and Lee bring a political science perspective to the pandemic, a refreshing departure from public health or epidemiological analyses. They focus on how institutions—government, academia, media, and public health authorities—handled decision-making, highlighting failures in open debate and tolerance for dissent. Their emphasis on liberal democratic values, such as transparency and evidence-based deliberation, is compelling, especially when they critique slogans like “follow the science” for obscuring complex trade-offs.

Evidence of Pre-Pandemic Planning Ignored

The authors effectively document how pre-COVID pandemic plans, such as those from the World Health Organization (2019) and Johns Hopkins (2019), cautioned against blanket lockdowns and emphasized balancing public health with societal costs. They argue convincingly that these plans were sidelined in favor of China-inspired measures, like widespread quarantines, without sufficient scrutiny. This historical context strengthens their case that policy decisions were reactive rather than reasoned.

Critique of Elite Overreach

The book’s critique of the “laptop class” (elites who could work from home) imposing policies that disproportionately harmed essential workers and less privileged groups is a sharp observation. They highlight how extended school closures hit low-income families hardest, a point backed by emerging data on learning loss and social inequity. This focus on distributional impacts adds moral weight to their argument.

Engagement with Dissent

Macedo and Lee, identifying as left-leaning, take a bold step by engaging with conservative critiques of COVID policies, such as those in the Great Barrington Declaration (GBD). They argue that dissenting voices, like those of GBD authors Jay Bhattacharya and Martin Kulldorff, were unfairly marginalized or censored, stifling debate. This willingness to bridge ideological divides is rare and aligns with their call for open-mindedness.

Comprehensive Documentation

The book is meticulously researched, with roughly 60 pages of references, making it a valuable resource for scholars and policymakers. Reviewers praise its data-driven approach and thorough documentation of policy choices, which lends credibility to its claims.

Weaknesses

Selective Use of Evidence

Critics note that the book sometimes cherry-picks data to support its arguments. For instance, when comparing international outcomes, the authors cite Sweden’s “excess mortality” to downplay its higher COVID mortality compared to Norway or Denmark, which used stricter measures. This shift in metrics feels like moving the goalposts to fit their narrative against stringent controls. Similarly, they underplay the U.S.’s higher mortality rate compared to Canada, which could undermine their critique of lockdowns.

Neglect of Vaccination Failures

A significant omission is the lack of focus on political failures around vaccination uptake, particularly among Republican voters. Critics argue that the refusal of GOP leaders to counter vaccine hesitancy cost hundreds of thousands of lives, a point the book barely addresses. This gap weakens its claim to be a comprehensive political assessment, as it sidesteps a major partisan failure.

Overemphasis on Great Barrington Declaration

The authors’ defense of the GBD is contentious. Critics, like neurologist Jonathan Howard, argue that they downplay the declaration’s flaws, such as its unrealistic premise of achieving herd immunity through mass infection and its ties to right-wing funding. By framing GBD authors as victims of censorship rather than scrutinizing their scientific errors, the book risks appearing biased toward contrarian narratives.

Limited Engagement with Public Health Experts

While Macedo and Lee critique the public health establishment, they rely heavily on public records and research rather than direct interviews with key figures, such as signers of the John Snow Memorandum, which supported stricter measures. This approach limits their ability to stress-test their conclusions against opposing views, potentially weakening their argument’s robustness.

Tone and Empathy Concerns

Some reviews criticize the book for lacking empathy for COVID victims, particularly those affected by delayed or lax responses. For example, one Amazon reviewer calls it “disgusting” for ignoring the ongoing impact of Long COVID and the millions who died due to insufficient measures. The book’s focus on policy failures over human suffering can feel cold to readers expecting a more balanced tone.

Broader Context and Contribution

Macedo and Lee’s book enters a polarized debate about the pandemic, where both sides—pro-lockdown and anti-restriction—often cling to oversimplified narratives. By framing the response as a case study in groupthink and institutional failure, the authors challenge progressive elites to reflect on their role in stifling debate and prioritizing ideology over evidence. Their call for “devil’s advocates” in policy deliberations and greater public input is a constructive suggestion, though critics argue that involving the general public in complex infectious disease decisions is impractical.

The book’s reception has been mixed but less contentious than expected, suggesting some of its critiques resonate beyond conservative circles. Endorsements from figures like Sandro Galea and Sunetra Gupta highlight its appeal to those questioning public health orthodoxy, while pushback from New York Times readers and colleagues wary of fueling anti-science sentiment reflects ongoing sensitivities.

Critical Assessment

While In Covid’s Wake is a valuable contribution to understanding the political dimensions of the pandemic, it is not without flaws. Its strength lies in exposing how fear and moral panic short-circuited deliberation, leading to policies that often failed to deliver promised benefits. However, its selective engagement with evidence and omission of key issues, like vaccine hesitancy, limit its scope. The authors’ outsider status as political scientists, not public health experts, is both a strength (offering fresh perspective) and a weakness (lacking granular insight into scientific debates).
The book’s most enduring insight is its warning about the fragility of liberal democratic institutions under crisis. By showing how science became politicized and dissent was suppressed, it underscores the need for humility and openness in future emergencies. Yet, its occasionally one-sided framing risks alienating readers who see value in the public health measures that, however imperfectly, saved lives.

Recommendation

In Covid’s Wake is a must-read for those interested in the intersection of politics, policy, and crisis management. It is particularly suited for academics, policymakers, and readers open to questioning mainstream narratives. However, it should be paired with works like Lessons from the Covid War by the Covid Crisis Group for a fuller picture of the pandemic’s complexities. Approach it critically, recognizing both its incisive critique and its blind spots.

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What might Evelyn Waugh say about Trump and politics in 2025?

Grok: Setting: A hypothetical 2025 London literary salon, reimagined with Evelyn Waugh miraculously present, sipping a martini and holding court. His sharp tongue and satirical eye, honed in the 20th century, now dissect the political circus of Donald Trump and the global stage, as observed through X posts and contemporary chatter. Below is an imagined monologue, capturing Waugh’s voice—caustic, erudite, and dripping with disdain—addressing Trump and politics in 2025.
My dear friends, if one must endure the cacophony of this modern age, with its incessant “X” bleatings and the vulgarity of digital pamphleteering, let us at least dissect the grotesque pantomime that is politics in 2025. And who better to epitomize this farce than Mr. Donald Trump, a man who seems to have mistaken governance for a music-hall act, complete with bombast and a wig that defies both gravity and taste?
I have perused the latest dispatches on this “X” platform—good Lord, what a sewer of human thought, where every Tom, Dick, and Harry fancies himself a Cicero. Trump, it seems, remains a force, a sort of orange-hued Falstaff, bellowing about tariffs, Big Law, and the perfidies of his enemies. His war on large law firms, for instance, is the stuff of low comedy: a man who once wielded lawyers like cudgels now rails against their fees, as if he’s discovered thrift in his eighth decade. It’s as though Nero, mid-fiddle, decided to tax the fire brigade.
What would I say of Trump? He is no statesman, but a ringmaster, thriving on the chaos of the crowd. His politics are not ideology but performance—a vulgar ballet of tweets (or whatever they’re called now) and rallies, where the mob’s roar substitutes for reason. In 2025, he seems less a president than a perennial candidate, a ghost haunting the American psyche, refusing to fade like a decent villain should. His supporters, bless their simple hearts, see him as a savior, smashing the idols of elites; his detractors, meanwhile, clutch their pearls and cry “democracy’s end.” Both are wrong. Trump is neither savior nor apocalypse, but a mirror—reflecting a civilization that prefers spectacle to substance, a Rome that would rather watch gladiators than read Seneca.
And yet, the man has a certain genius, if one can call it that. Like a character from my own Scoop, he understands the press’s hunger for outrage and feeds it daily, a one-man scandal factory. His pronouncements on X—about taxing lawyers, or China, or some imagined conspiracy involving windmills—are not policies but provocations, designed to keep his name in neon. In my day, we had Beaverbrook and Rothermere; now, every man with a smartphone is a press baron, and Trump is their king.
Politics itself, in this benighted year, is a shambles. The Americans, God help them, oscillate between Trump’s carnival and the sanctimonious drivel of his opponents, who seem to believe that earnestness is a substitute for competence. Across the Atlantic, we British fare little better, governed by a parade of mediocrities who lack even the originality to lack originality. The world stage is a farce: Europe bickers like dowagers at a tea party, China looms like a headmaster with a cane, and the rest scramble for scraps. Trump, at least, has the merit of being candid in his absurdity—a rare honesty in a world of polished lies.
What would I write of this? A novel, perhaps, though it would strain credulity. Picture it: The Triumph of Trump, a satire where a brash tycoon storms a decadent republic, armed with nothing but bravado and a hairpiece. His foes, a coalition of prigs and pedants, fall before his sheer indifference to their rules. The climax? Not a revolution, but a reality show, where the nation votes not for laws but for catchphrases. Too outlandish? Hardly. Reality has outstripped fiction, and I, for one, am exhausted by its audacity.
In the end, Trump is not the disease but a symptom—a garish boil on the body politic, signaling a deeper malaise. We have traded dignity for distraction, principle for popularity. If I were to offer advice, it would be this: turn off your screens, pour a stiff drink, and read something written before 1900. The world may not improve, but at least you’ll have better company than the howling mob on X.

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Jeeves read on X that Bertie Wooster is a sex pest. Jeeves provides Bertie sage advice in the age of Me-Too.

Grok: Setting: Bertie Wooster’s elegant London flat, April 2025. Bertie is pacing frantically, his bow tie askew, clutching his phone as if it might explode. Jeeves, serene as ever, stands by the fireplace, having just reviewed a troubling thread on X. A tray of tea sits untouched, the air thick with impending crisis.
Bertie: Jeeves, we’re in the soup! The absolute, boiling, brimstone soup! I’ve just seen it on X—some blighter’s posted that I’m a sex pest! Me! Bertram Wilberforce Wooster, a pest of the amorous variety! It’s slander, I tell you, but it’s spreading like wildfire. What’s to be done? I’ll be blackballed from the Drones Club and hounded by Aunt Agatha!
Jeeves: Calmly adjusting a cufflink. A most distressing development, sir. I have reviewed the X thread in question, which appears to stem from a misunderstanding involving your recent interaction with Miss Poppy Pendleton. The term “sex pest” is, I suspect, an exaggeration, but in the current climate, such accusations carry weight. Might I inquire as to the specifics of your conduct at the Drones Club event?
Bertie: Specifics? Oh, it’s all a ghastly mix-up, Jeeves! You know Poppy—sparkly frocks, laughs like a hyena. After our… er… encounter the other night, I sent that polite text you drafted, all about being friends. But at the club last night, I may have been a tad too chummy—gave her a wink, called her “old sport,” maybe patted her shoulder. Purely platonic, I swear! Now X is ablaze with claims I’m some sort of lecherous octopus!
Jeeves: Nodding thoughtfully. I see, sir. In the era of the Me Too movement, even well-intentioned gestures can be misconstrued, particularly when amplified on platforms like X. The public is acutely sensitive to perceived impropriety, and a wink or touch, however innocent, may be interpreted as overfamiliarity. Allow me to offer some guidance to navigate this delicate landscape.
Bertie: Guidance? Jeeves, I need a miracle! If this gets out, I’ll be persona non grata from Mayfair to Soho. Lay it on me—what’s the drill in this Me Too age? I don’t want to be the chap who’s whispered about at cocktail parties.
Jeeves: Clearing his throat softly. Very well, sir. Firstly, I recommend issuing a prompt and sincere clarification on X, crafted to defuse the situation without admitting fault. I propose something along the lines of: “Dear friends, I am dismayed by recent misunderstandings. My conduct is always intended with respect and good humor. I apologize for any discomfort caused and pledge to be more mindful henceforth. Yours, Bertie W.” This acknowledges the concern while preserving your character.
Bertie: Post on X? Me? Jeeves, I’d sooner wrestle a crocodile! Everyone will see it—Biffy, Tuppy, even that ghastly Spode! Can’t we just ignore it and hope it blows over, like that time I accidentally set fire to Gussie’s top hat?
Jeeves: Regrettably, sir, in the digital age, silence is often construed as guilt. A measured response, coupled with discreet actions, is the wiser course. Secondly, I advise adopting a more reserved demeanor in social settings. Avoid physical gestures—winks, pats, or the like—and maintain a polite distance, particularly with those of the opposite sex. A nod and a smile suffice to convey amiability.
Bertie: Reserved? You mean I’ve got to act like a blooming statue? Dash it, Jeeves, I’m a friendly cove! If I stop winking, people will think I’ve gone dour, like Aunt Agatha on a bad day. And what about Poppy? Should I send her flowers or something to smooth things over?
Jeeves: Frowning slightly. Flowers, sir, might be misinterpreted as an attempt to curry favor. Instead, a private message—brief and contrite—would be more appropriate. For example: “Dear Miss Pendleton, I regret any unease caused by my behavior. My intentions were purely cordial, and I shall strive to be more considerate. Yours sincerely, Bertie.” I can dispatch this on your behalf to ensure propriety.
Bertie: Propriety? You’re making me sound like a vicar, Jeeves! But I suppose you’re right—this Me Too business is trickier than a round of golf with Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps. Any other pearls of wisdom to keep me from being branded a menace?
Jeeves: Indeed, sir. Thirdly, educate yourself on contemporary social norms. The Me Too movement emphasizes consent, respect, and awareness of power dynamics. Even a jest or compliment, if misjudged, can cause offense. I could procure a discreet online course on workplace and social etiquette, tailored to the modern gentleman, which you might complete in the privacy of your flat.
Bertie: A course? Good lord, Jeeves, next you’ll have me reading manifestos! But I take your point—I’ve got to watch my step. No more calling girls “old sport,” no more shoulder pats. I’ll be as bland as a boiled egg. But what if this X nonsense escalates? What if I’m canceled, like that chap who tweeted about his cat’s political views?
Jeeves: With a ghost of a smile. Cancellation, sir, is not inevitable. By acting swiftly and sincerely, we can mitigate the damage. Should the situation persist, I have contacts in public relations who can manage your online reputation discreetly. For now, refrain from engaging with the X thread directly, lest you fan the flames. I shall monitor developments and advise accordingly.
Bertie: Collapsing into the armchair, mopping his brow. You’re a lifeline, Jeeves. An absolute lifeline. I’ll do as you say—no winking, no tweeting, just pure, unadulterated virtue. Pour me a stiff brandy, will you? This sex pest business has me shakier than a leaf in a gale.
Jeeves: Very good, sir. He glides to the decanter, pouring a precise measure. If I may, sir, your willingness to adapt speaks to your fundamental decency. With vigilance and my guidance, we shall restore your standing and ensure you remain a gentleman of unimpeachable repute.
Bertie: Sipping gratefully. To repute, Jeeves, and to never trending on X again! Now, draft that message to Poppy and get cracking on that X post. I’m counting on you to pull me out of this bally inferno!
Jeeves: Bowing slightly. Consider it done, sir. He retreats to compose the messages, leaving Bertie to nurse his brandy and vow eternal caution in the treacherous waters of 2025 social mores.

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Bertie Wooster tells Jeeves about his first experience of sex with a woman

Grok: Setting: Bertie Wooster’s plush London flat, April 2025. Bertie is fidgeting nervously on a leather armchair, clutching a gin and tonic like it’s a life preserver. Jeeves, ever the picture of unruffled composure, is polishing a silver cigarette case with a cloth, his expression as inscrutable as a sphinx.
Bertie: I say, Jeeves, I’ve got myself into a bit of a pickle. Well, not a pickle exactly—more of a… a dashed awkward situation. Gulps drink. You see, last night at the Drones Club, after one too many of those new-fangled espresso martinis, I… er… had my first, ahem, encounter with a woman. And I’m in a frightful muddle about it!
Jeeves: Pausing mid-polish, eyebrow barely twitching. Indeed, sir? A significant milestone, if I may say. Might I inquire as to the circumstances, so as to better advise you on the matter?
Bertie: Circumstances? Oh, it’s a dashed blur, Jeeves! There was this girl—Poppy Pendleton, frightfully modern, wears those sparkly frocks that look like they’re made of disco balls. We were chatting about, I don’t know, drone racing or some such rot, and next thing I know, we’re in a cab to her flat in Shoreditch. And then… well… blushes crimson things happened. Things I shan’t describe, lest I turn the color of a beetroot!
Jeeves: Calmly resuming polishing. I quite understand, sir. Discretion is paramount. May I infer that the experience has left you somewhat unsettled?
Bertie: Unsettled? Jeeves, I’m a positive wreck! I mean, it was all very… er… thrilling, in a way, but now I’m terrified Poppy’s going to show up at my door demanding I propose or, worse, tweet about it on X! You know how these modern girls are—always posting their breakfasts and their feelings. What if I’m trending as “Bertie the Bungler” by teatime?
Jeeves: A valid concern, sir, given the proclivities of social media. However, I suspect Miss Pendleton’s intentions may be less matrimonial or public than you fear. If I might venture, was the encounter consensual and conducted with mutual respect?
Bertie: Oh, absolutely, Jeeves! I’m no cad. Poppy was all for it—kept calling me “darling” and giggling like a schoolgirl. But that’s just it—she’s so forward! What if she expects me to be her steady beau now? I’m not cut out for romance, Jeeves. I’m a fellow who likes his eggs sunny-side up and his evenings free of emotional entanglements.
Jeeves: Placing the cigarette case on a side table. A prudent stance, sir. To navigate this delicate situation, I would suggest a tactful follow-up with Miss Pendleton to ascertain her expectations. A polite message—perhaps via text, given the contemporary context—could clarify matters without committing you to undue obligations.
Bertie: A text? Me? Jeeves, I can barely manage emojis without sending a peach when I mean a thumbs-up! And what would I say? “Jolly good show last night, but let’s not make it a habit”? She’ll have my head on a platter, or worse, screenshot it for her followers!
Jeeves: Suppressing the faintest smirk. I could draft a suitable message, sir, designed to convey gratitude and goodwill while gently establishing boundaries. For instance: “Dear Poppy, thank you for a delightful evening. I trust we shall remain the best of friends. Yours, Bertie.” This strikes a cordial note without inviting further entanglements.
Bertie: Brightening slightly. By Jove, Jeeves, you’re a genius! That sounds just the ticket—friendly, but not so friendly I’m picking out engagement rings. But what if she does want more? I mean, she was awfully keen—kept saying I had “potential,” whatever that means. Sounded like something you’d say about a racehorse.
Jeeves: Thoughtfully. The term “potential,” sir, may reflect Miss Pendleton’s enthusiasm rather than a demand for commitment. Modern sensibilities often favor casual liaisons over binding contracts. Nevertheless, should she press for a deeper connection, you might gently cite your dedication to a life of unencumbered bachelorhood.
Bertie: Unencumbered bachelorhood! That’s me to a T, Jeeves! Why, I’d rather face Aunt Agatha’s wrath than get roped into picnics and pet names. Still, I can’t stop replaying the whole thing in my head. It was… well, dashed educational, but I’m not sure I’m built for this sort of caper. Too much like trying to dance a foxtrot during an earthquake.
Jeeves: Nodding sagely. A vivid metaphor, sir. Such experiences, while initially disorienting, often contribute to one’s personal growth. Should you wish to avoid future quakes, I could advise on strategies to maintain platonic relations at the Drones Club—perhaps limiting your intake of espresso martinis.
Bertie: Laughing nervously. Limit martinis? You’re pulling my leg, Jeeves! But you’re right—I got carried away. Poppy’s a corker, but I’m not ready to be anyone’s leading man. Draft that text, will you? And maybe pour me another G&T to steady the old nerves. This modern love business is more perilous than a round with Gussie Fink-Nottle’s newt obsession!
Jeeves: Very good, sir. He glides to the bar, then pauses. If I may, sir, you have navigated this rite of passage with commendable, if inadvertent, aplomb. I shall ensure Miss Pendleton receives a message of utmost tact, preserving both your dignity and your liberty.
Bertie: Sinking back into the chair, relieved. Jeeves, you’re a marvel. A positive marvel. Here’s to liberty, gin, and never trending on X!
Jeeves: Pouring the drink with a ghost of a smile. To liberty, sir. He hands Bertie the glass and retreats to compose the text, leaving Bertie to sip and muse on the perils of modern romance.

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