LF: “The MSM loves this idea that Trump is fading. They forget that power is always situational, the situation changes, and one’s power changes.”
Gemini: Here are a few ways to think about your statement regarding the situational nature of power in this context:
The Power of Narrative: The media’s portrayal is a power situation. If a narrative of “fading influence” gains traction, it can influence donor behavior, primary challenges, and public perception, thereby actually eroding some power, regardless of the former President’s core support.
The Power of Position: For the representatives, their power to challenge Trump was situational—it relied on their specific legislative roles (impeachment votes, committee assignments) and their secure (or formerly secure) political bases. When the situation changed (e.g., Liz Cheney’s primary election), her power to influence the party’s direction from within Congress ended.
The Power of the Base: The former President’s power is heavily situational, derived from the unwavering loyalty of his base. As long as he can mobilize that base, his power over the party apparatus, and especially in primary contests, remains formidable. Challenges to his influence in Congress often end when the representatives face their voters, underscoring the shift in power from Washington D.C. to the grassroots.
The perceived reluctance of elites and certain segments of academia to engage in explicit and critical decoding of power often stems from a complex interplay of institutional constraints, rhetorical necessity, and self-preservation.
The tendency to use platitudes about “service,” “public interest,” and “science” can function as a powerful form of strategic obfuscation—it frames the actions of the powerful in morally neutral or benevolent terms.
Institutional and Self-Preservation Factors
Several intertwined reasons explain this observed reluctance:
1. Access and Cooperation
Academics who study elites often need access to them (for interviews, documents, or data). Directly and critically decoding the subject’s power—especially its less visible, self-serving, or coercive aspects—risks losing access. Elites can impose restrictions, refuse to cooperate, or retaliate against researchers they deem hostile. This creates an incentive for scholars to adopt a more neutral or palatable vocabulary.
2. Funding and Legitimacy
Much academic research is funded by government grants, corporate interests, or major foundations, all of which are part of the larger power structure. Research that is too critical or explicitly anti-establishment can face difficulties securing funding, being published in prestigious journals, or being taken seriously by policymakers. The language of “public interest” and “service” offers a safer, more legitimizing umbrella for research.
3. Maintaining the Status Quo
Many individuals within academia and elite institutions are themselves beneficiaries of the existing power structure. Explicitly decoding and challenging that structure would mean questioning their own privilege, career path, and institutional authority. It’s often easier and more comfortable to operate under the assumption that the system is fundamentally sound, requiring only incremental improvements guided by “science” or “expertise.”
The Power of Platitudes and Discourse
The use of seemingly neutral or positive terms acts as a crucial political tool in the exercise of power:
Obscuring Self-Interest: The term “public interest” is often vague and contested. As critics point out, invoking it allows powerful groups to advance their specific, often self-serving, agendas while claiming the moral high ground of serving the greater good. This is a form of ideological legitimation.
Neutralizing Politics: Invoking “science” or “expertise” attempts to remove decisions from the realm of messy, democratic politics and place them in the hands of technocrats. This suggests that decisions are based on objective truth, not on a contest of interests and power—which subtly reinforces the power of those who control the “expertise.”
The Power/Knowledge Nexus (Foucault): Philosophers like Michel Foucault argued that power and knowledge are inseparable. What a society accepts as “knowledge” or “truth” (science, expertise) is fundamentally produced and reinforced by power structures (institutions, universities, government agencies). When elites speak in terms of “truth” and “science,” they are deploying a form of power that defines what is considered legitimate discourse, thus actively suppressing alternative, power-challenging narratives (subjugated knowledges).
In essence, the “queasiness” isn’t about an inability to decode power (critical theories like Marxism, Foucault, and Elite Theory have been doing this for decades in academia), but a situational decision by certain institutions and individuals to use a rhetoric of neutrality and service to maintain their position and influence.
LF: “If Machiavelli were alive today, which prestige outlets would publish him? And how would the New York Times write about him? I feel like the NYT would focus on how immoral he is.”
If Niccolò Machiavelli were alive today, his works would likely be published across a spectrum of prestigious outlets, appealing to different contemporary power centers, but he would certainly be met with the moralistic critique you predict from publications like The New York Times.
Prestige Outlets That Would Publish Machiavelli
Machiavelli’s brilliance was in the cold, clear-eyed analysis of power as it is, not as it ought to be. This realism, divorced from morality, makes him a fit for several distinct modern “prestige” audiences:
1. Political/Geopolitical Realism: Foreign Affairs & The Economist
The Content: These outlets focus on Realpolitik—the practical, self-interested, amoral decisions states make to maximize their power. Machiavelli’s essays (modern equivalents of The Prince or Discourses on Livy) would be published here under a title like “The New Necessity: Why the Liberal Order Must Wield a Lion’s Force and a Fox’s Cunning” or “Adapting to Anarchy: How the Modern State Survives in a Post-Moral World.”
The Angle: He would analyze U.S.-China relations, cyber warfare strategy, or international sanctions, focusing on efficacy and the maintenance of national power (virtù), not idealism or international law. His work would be treated as essential, if cynical, reading for diplomats and strategists.
2. Elite Business/Leadership: Harvard Business Review (HBR) & The Wall Street Journal
The Content: The Prince is often treated today as a manual for corporate strategy, leadership, and management. He’d publish a feature in HBR or a series in the WSJ titled “How to Command Loyalty: The CEO’s Guide to Being Feared and Respected” or “When to Be Merciful: The Strategic Use of Cruelty in Corporate Turnarounds.”
The Angle: His advice would be framed for navigating competitive markets, hostile takeovers, and managing employee loyalty, translating political power to organizational power. This is where his “ends justify the means” argument is most easily monetized and laundered into acceptable business jargon.
3. Highbrow Intellectual/Academic: The London Review of Books (LRB) & The New York Review of Books (NYRB)
The Content: These literary journals would carry his most thoughtful, historical-comparative work (in the vein of his Discourses), comparing the tactics of ancient Roman republics with modern democracies, or discussing the umori (the conflicting humors) of the elite and the people in contemporary politics.
The Angle: Here, he would be published as a critical political scientist—a “founding father” of modern political thought—whose realism is necessary for understanding the mechanics of populist movements and the inevitable decay of republics.
How The New York Times Would Write About Him
You are absolutely right. The New York Times (NYT) would likely treat Machiavelli as a moral scandal, focusing heavily on the ethical implications of his counsel, especially in its news and opinion sections. The paper’s dominant narrative would be one of immoral realism versus democratic ideals.
1. The News Report: The “Teacher of Evil”
A profile would be framed with a headline like: “The Merciless Modern Prince: Niccolò Machiavelli Stirs Debate with Handbook for Amoral Power.”
The Tone: Objective but implicitly critical. It would quote academics (often Leo Strauss, who called him a “teacher of evil”) and political opponents who decry his methods.
The Focus: It would detail his most controversial advice: the strategic use of cruelty, the need to break promises, and the prioritizing of the state’s survival over individual rights. It would draw parallels to contemporary figures and movements accused of ruthless tactics, using him as a shorthand for cynicism in politics.
2. The Opinion Piece: The Moral Rebuke
An Op-Ed would likely run with a headline such as: “We Do Not Need Machiavelli’s Brutality to Save Democracy” or “The False Virtue of Vice: Why Political Realism Undermines the Public Trust.”
The Argument: An NYT columnist would argue that while his analysis might be descriptive of some dark corners of politics, it is profoundly prescriptive and dangerous. They would contrast his amoral pragmatism with the paper’s emphasis on institutional norms, transparency, democratic accountability, and moral leadership.
The Conclusion: The piece would ultimately reject his philosophy as an existential threat to liberal democracy, affirming the need for morality and public service—the very platitudes he sought to set aside.
In short, Machiavelli would be a publishing phenomenon, lauded by realists and strategists, but widely condemned by the liberal media establishment for the lack of a moral framework in his political science.
