SURVIVAL IS NOT A THEORY



IT IS A FACT OF EVERYDAY LIFE

Survival is not a theory (Rev Jen Raffensperger- Unitarian Universalist Church of Roanoke). It is not an abstract concept relegated to think-tank reports or academic debates. It is lived in real time by mothers dropping their kids off at school, by workers juggling multiple jobs to pay rent, and by communities watching federal agents descend into their streets with overwhelming force. In Minneapolis this winter, this basic truth was laid bare with tragic clarity.


When an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent fatally shot 37-year-old Renée Good during a federal enforcement operation in Minneapolis on January 7, the incident sent shock waves through the city. Good, a U.S. citizen and mother of three, was killed near Portland Avenue South amid a surge of federal agents deployed to carry out immigration actions—part of a larger campaign known locally as “Operation Metro Surge.”


Local leaders and civil rights advocates have raised alarm over the heavy-handed approach. Video and eyewitness accounts contradicted initial federal claims that Good posed an imminent threat, with many describing her as trying to move away from agents when she was shot multiple times. Protests erupted, challenging not just the specific use of force, but the broader role of ICE in communities already burdened by economic insecurity and racial inequity.


This tragedy in Minneapolis illustrates a painful reality: enforcement policies that treat immigration, poverty, and policing as separate challenges ultimately compound trauma for the more vulnerable populations. In neighborhoods where wages lag behind the cost of living and opportunities are scarce, survival is not something people theorize about—it’s something they struggle for every day. Yet when federal and local authorities respond to desperation and informal economies with tactical deployments and steel-toed enforcement, they risk turning survival itself into a criminal act.

ICE’s increased presence in Minneapolis did not happen in a vacuum. Advocates have criticized tactics ranging from expansive surge deployments to controversial detentions of children and parents, raising fears that enforcement has become punitive rather than protective. Another American was killed in Minneapolis, Alex Pretti. ICE agents shot him after wrestling him to the ground.


Policing poverty with force only deepens mistrust. When federal agents operate alongside local police without clear oversight or accountability, the message is chilling: struggle for survival at your own risk. Families scrambling to make ends meet see school attendance drop amid fear of raids. Community members hesitate to seek help, fearful that any interaction with law enforcement could escalate into something worse. And when incidents like Good’s and Pretti’s killing occur, local authorities and residents are left demanding transparency while federal agencies retreat behind outright lies and claims of immunity and jurisdiction.


Survival cannot be secured through deterrence or deterrence by force. Treating migration and poverty as problems to be policed rather than conditions to be addressed only shifts the burden onto people least equipped to bear it. Minneapolis—still scarred by past trauma and divisions—now grapples with the consequences of a system that has chosen militarized enforcement over humane policy.


What Minneapolis needs—and what every community struggling under poverty and immigration stress deserves—is investment in human infrastructure: housing, livable wages, healthcare, schools, and legal pathways that respect dignity. It means disentangling community safety from punitive policing models and rejecting the notion that survival must be negotiated through fear. Courageous cities and countries that have tackled poverty with social programs rather than handcuffs have seen crime and instability decrease, not increase.


Survival is not a theory. It is the most basic affirmation of human dignity. Any society that treats it as optional or negotiable, that responds to hardship with militarized force, has already failed the people it professes to serve. Our response to tragedy—whether in Minneapolis or communities nationwide—must be rooted in justice, accountability, and a recognition that people’s lives are not collateral in a political strategy.


T. Michael Smith
wwwtmichaelsmith.com

ICE Is A Threat To The American Way

Reform or Abolition Is the Only Path to Preserving Our Democracy

In a healthy democracy, law enforcement exists to serve the public, protect rights, and operate under clear constraints. Immigration and Customs Enforcement—ICE—fails that test. While often defended as a necessary tool of sovereignty and rule of law, ICE as it currently operates undermines core democratic principles: due process, accountability, equal protection, and civilian trust in government.

This is not an argument against immigration law itself. Democracies have the right to regulate borders. But how those laws are enforced matters. ICE has evolved into an agency defined less by lawful administration than by deterrence through fear and violence—and that is fundamentally incompatible with democratic governance.

ICE was created in the aftermath of 9/11, folded into the new Department of Homeland Security during a moment of national trauma. That origin story matters. ICE inherited the logic of emergency powers: expansive discretion, secrecy, and an assumption that certain populations posed inherent threats. Two decades later, those assumptions remain embedded in the agency’s culture, even as the national emergency has long passed.

A Politicized Enforcer: Kristi Noem and ICE

Under the current administration, led by President Trump and Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, ICE has become even more politicized and aggressive. Noem has publicly defended immigration enforcement actions that resulted in the fatal shooting of a U.S. citizen, framing the incident as justified and even characterizing it in militarized terms without independent investigation. Her department’s posture has shifted toward confronting domestic critics and expanding federal law enforcement deployments in cities like Minneapolis in the face of protests. This combative stance erodes public trust and signals that ICE’s neutral enforcement of law is but a tool of political theater and coercion, weaponized against dissent. The Trump administration is trying hard to project dictatorial strength and power, but the narrative is slipping away from it.

The Human Cost: Remembering Renee Good

The danger of ICE’s current posture is not abstract. On January 7, 2026, an ICE agent in Minneapolis shot and killed Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old mother of three, poet, and U.S. citizen, during an enforcement operation. Good was not being arrested or charged with any criminal offense at the time; video and eyewitness accounts indicate she was driving away when an ICE agent opened fire. This killing has sparked national outrage, widespread protests, and calls for independent investigation and accountability from lawmakers, local officials, and civil rights advocates. Good’s family has urged empathy and justice, emphasizing her role as a devoted mother and community member. In the wake of Good’s murder, the administration sent more agents to Minnesota in what appears to be an attempt to gin up protests that change the subject from Good’s murder and appear to justify ICE’s violence.

Her death is a stark reminder that enforcement without accountability can cost innocent lives—and destroy families. It raises urgent questions about the use of force by a domestic agency that should be focused on lawful, proportionate action, not militarized confrontation. Adding flame to the fire, President Donald J. Trump, Vice President J.D. Vance, and Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem all defended her killing by calling Renee Good and her wife “domestic terrorists.”

ICE Undermines Democracy, Does Not Uphold It

Democracy depends on due process. Yet ICE operates in a legal system where civil detention can mean prolonged confinement without the full protection guaranteed in criminal court. People can be detained far from home, denied meaningful access to counsel, and deported through fast-track proceedings that prioritize speed over fairness. Legal residents, asylum seekers, and long-term community members are routinely swept into this system. When liberty can be taken without full constitutional safeguards, democracy is already in retreat.

ICE’s defenders often invoke public safety, but this claim collapses under scrutiny. The majority of ICE arrests are not of violent criminals but of people whose primary offense is a civil immigration violation. Meanwhile, evidence consistently shows that immigrant communities—documented or not—commit crimes at lower rates than native-born citizens. The agency’s most visible actions—workplace raids, courthouse arrests, and neighborhood sweeps—do not make communities safer. They make them quieter, more fearful, and less likely to cooperate with police or civic institutions.

Even more troubling is how easily ICE becomes a political instrument. Enforcement priorities swing wildly from one administration to the next, not because the law changes, but because presidential rhetoric does. This volatility reveals a deeper problem: ICE possesses enormous discretionary power with weak democratic oversight. In practice, that discretion allows immigration enforcement to be weaponized for political signaling—who belongs, who is suspect, who should be afraid.

Reform or Abolition: A Democratic Imperative

The public must confront a crucial question: Can ICE be reformed, or must it be abolished and replaced? Meaningful reform would require stripping the agency of its broad enforcement and detention authority, separating civil immigration administration from criminal investigation, and placing every enforcement action under clear judicial oversight. It would mandate full transparency and independent civilian review of uses of force, along with strict limits on civil detention and guaranteed legal representation in immigration proceedings.

But reform risks being superficial if the underlying culture of impunity remains. Abolition advocates argue that the functions ICE now performs—immigration processing, asylum adjudication, workplace compliance—should be transferred to civil, non-coercive agencies that operate with strict adherence to rights protections. Criminal investigations should remain with law enforcement agencies that are accountable, trained, and constrained by constitutional norms.

A democracy that enforces unjust systems unjustly erodes the legitimacy of law itself. Rule of law is not measured by how harshly a government can punish, but by how faithfully it protects rights while administering policy.

ICE, as it exists today, does not strengthen American democracy. It corrodes it. And until the United States is willing to reckon with that truth—through reform or abolition—tragedies like the killing of Renee Good will continue, and with them, the weakening of democratic ideals we claim to uphold.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

A DIVERSIONARY WAR

You Can’t Bomb Your Way Out of Rent: What Really Forces Leaders Back to Domestic Reform

When domestic problems pile up—rising costs, broken institutions, political paralysis—leaders have a familiar escape hatch: look outward. Foreign crises, military posturing, and talk of national security can temporarily drown out questions about wages, housing, healthcare, and democratic accountability. History shows this tactic works just long enough to be tempting—and just long enough to do real damage.

The harder question isn’t why leaders distract. It’s what actually forces them back to governing at home. The answer is uncomfortable for those in power and clarifying for everyone else: leaders return to domestic reform only when avoidance becomes more costly than change.

That pressure does not come from speeches or slogans. It comes from forces that, when activated together, are impossible to ignore—starting with economic reality and electoral accountability.

Domestic economic pain—higher rents, stagnant wages, debt burdens—cannot be spun away. Foreign policy adventures are expensive, and even when wrapped in patriotic language, they rarely deliver quick relief for ordinary people. Eventually, budgets strain, infrastructure decays, and voters notice that the money spent abroad could have fixed things at home.

Elections also matter when they genuinely determine political fate. Voters may rally around flags and crises for a short time, but they care more about grocery bills and job stability. When people believe leadership can change and that their vote counts, domestic issues reassert themselves.

Nowhere is this dynamic clearer than in the Trump administration’s recent actions in Venezuela. The U.S. military operation that captured President Nicolás Maduro in early January, framed as a strike against narco-terrorism, seized global attention and deeply divided Americans along partisan lines. Many Republicans cheered the move as a bold assertion of U.S. strength; many Democrats and independents condemned it as an illegal intervention that bypassed Congress and violated international norms. Early polling shows a stark split: roughly two-thirds of Republicans support the action, while only about one in seven Democrats do—and most Americans believe Congress should have been consulted first.

Critics on both the left and right have accused the White House of using Venezuela as a diversionary tactic—a way to shift public attention away from deep economic anxieties, congressional dysfunction, corruption scandals, and domestic policy failures. Comparisons have been made to historic cases where foreign policy was used to try to deflect from internal problems, with strategists explicitly suggesting that dramatic military moves can serve as a political smoke screen.

Oil makes diversion more effective because it affects everyone’s life. Oil is uniquely useful in this context. Gas prices, heating costs, and inflation are immediately felt by voters. Linking a foreign action to the diversion gives leaders a concrete justification that resonates more than abstract ideology.

The timing and presentation of the Venezuela operation fit a pattern seen in U.S. politics before: rally support with talk of national security, justify extraordinary action with moral language, and hope that media cycles focus on external enemies more than internal failures. When oil reserves—like Venezuela’s vast fields, which are now at the center of strategy and controversy—enter the mix, foreign policy gains an economic gloss that resonates with some voters even as it distracts from domestic debates about inflation and labor conditions.

 The diversion never lasts. What forces leaders back to domestic reform—economic pain that cannot be ignored, elections that matter, elite repudiation, institutional resistance, and public exhaustion—cannot be sidestepped by spectacle alone. People don’t want permanent resistance; they want competence and stability. Housing, healthcare, and wages become paramount. When voters connect foreign spending to domestic neglect, reform becomes unavoidable—or leadership changes.

Elite defection is decisive when it happens: when business leaders, military professionals, and bureaucratic insiders quietly conclude that diversion costs more than accountability. Institutions like courts and legislatures don’t need to “win”—they only need to slow, expose, and delay. Public exhaustion matters too; permanent crisis politics collapses once citizens demand competence over chaos. Oil companies recognize the distractive nature of this action and are not willing to participate at this point.

What doesn’t work alone are moral outrage, hashtags on X, or viral moments. These fade unless they are connected to material consequences and institutional leverage. But the murder of an American citizen by an ICE agent could be that material consequence. Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old U.S. citizen and mother of three, was fatally shot by a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent Jonathan Ross during a federal immigration enforcement operation in south Minneapolis.  The incident has sparked widespread protests and political debate across the U.S., with thousands demonstrating against ICE’s presence and tactics, and lawmakers calling for independent investigations and greater accountability.

The uncomfortable truth is that domestic reform happens not because leaders “see the light,” but because: the cost of not reforming becomes higher than the cost of trying another diversion. Democracy survives when citizens, institutions, and economic realities make avoidance a non-starter. Change arrives because the country insists on it—and makes every other option impossible.

You can’t bomb your way out of rent or partisan dysfunction. You can’t sanction your way to affordable healthcare. And you can’t distract forever from a system that no longer delivers for working families.

Domestic reform comes when citizens make avoidance more costly than accountability. That’s when leaders are forced back to work on the problems that matter most.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

Are We Losing the Free Press?


The question sounds alarmist, until you look closely at what’s happening.

The United States still has newspapers, cable networks, podcasts, newsletters, and social feeds overflowing with information. Journalists still expose corruption and challenge power. And yet something essential is eroding. Not all at once, not by government decree, but through pressure, consolidation, intimidation, and a growing public tolerance for lies.

The greatest threat to the free press today is not outright censorship. It is slow suffocation.

A free press depends on three pillars: independence, economic viability, and public trust. All three are under attack.

Start with economics. Local journalism, the unglamorous backbone of democratic accountability, has been gutted. Thousands of local newspapers have disappeared. Many survivors are “ghost papers,” skeletal operations where a handful of reporters cover entire regions.  The Roanoke Times is a prime example. Hedge funds and private equity firms have treated newsrooms as assets to be stripped rather than civic institutions to be sustained. When school boards, police departments, and city halls go uncovered, corruption doesn’t need to be hidden. It simply goes unnoticed.

At the national level, market pressures take a different form. Ratings, clicks, and virality increasingly drive coverage decisions. Outrage outperforms nuance. Conflict spreads faster than context. Even responsible outlets feel pulled toward spectacle, crowding out the slow, expensive investigative reporting that holds power to account.

Then there is politics—and here the danger becomes explicit. In recent years, journalism itself has been deliberately delegitimized. “Fake news” is no longer a critique of errors; it is a cudgel used to discredit any reporting that threatens those in power. Reporters are labeled “enemies of the people.” Media outlets are targeted for retaliation. Lawsuits are filed not to win, but to intimidate.

This rhetoric has consequences. When journalists are cast as traitors, harassment and threats follow. When lies are rebranded as “alternative facts,” truth itself becomes partisan. The aim is not to persuade the public of a single false narrative, but to exhaust people into cynicism—to convince them that no source is trustworthy, that nothing can be known. In that fog, accountability collapses.

Media consolidation compounds the damage. A shrinking number of corporations control much of what Americans see and hear, narrowing perspectives and increasing vulnerability to political and advertiser pressure. At the same time, social media platforms—now primary news sources for millions—are governed by opaque algorithms that reward engagement over accuracy and amplify misinformation at scale. These companies are not bound by journalistic ethics, yet they function as gatekeepers of public discourse.

The final pillar, public trust, has fractured along partisan lines. Too many Americans now choose news the way they choose teams—seeking affirmation rather than understanding. This breakdown did not happen by accident; it has been cultivated. When trust collapses, the press loses not just credibility, but its democratic function.

So, are we losing the free press? Not yet. But we are testing how much damage it can absorb.

History shows that press freedom rarely vanishes overnight. It erodes gradually—through economic starvation, legal intimidation, consolidation, algorithmic distortion, and the normalization of lies. Democracies do not usually silence journalists first; they teach citizens to stop listening to them.

Defending a free press requires more than ritual praise. It means supporting local journalism, enforcing antitrust laws, protecting reporters from harassment, demanding accountability from social media platforms, and cultivating a public culture that values truth even when it is uncomfortable.

A free press is not a partisan weapon or a cultural luxury. It is democratic infrastructure, as essential as courts or elections. When it weakens, every other institution becomes easier to corrupt.

The real question is not whether we are losing the free press. It is whether we will recognize what is happening—and act—before the loss becomes irreversible.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith

Chief Justice John Roberts

OLD and QUIRKY

From Conservative Strategist to Chief Justice of a Court He Can No Longer Control

For years, Chief Justice John Roberts was hailed—mostly by Beltway moderates desperate to find a “reasonable” conservative—as the last adult in the room. The sober institutionalist. The guardian of the Court’s legitimacy. The conservative who understood that you don’t burn the house down just because you finally got the matches.

But the truth is far less flattering: John Roberts didn’t save the Court from extremism. He midwifed it. He curated it. And now, like Dr. Frankenstein watching his monster rampage through the village, he’s horrified that he’s no longer the one in charge.

Roberts’ evolution isn’t a story of a principled jurist tempering his ideology. It’s the story of a Republican operative who spent decades dismantling democratic safeguards—voting rights, campaign finance limits, corporate accountability—only to recoil when a more radical generation of conservatives used those very tools to push the country off a cliff.

The Strategist Who Mistook Himself for a Statesman

Roberts rose through the conservative legal movement carefully, methodically, strategically. He wasn’t the bomb-thrower; he was the man smoothing the shrapnel, packaging hard-right outcomes in pretty, technocratic prose. His entire judicial philosophy was camouflage: causing massive ideological shifts, but made them look modest.

His decision in Shelby County v. Holder—gutting the Voting Rights Act—was a masterpiece of this dreary craft. He pretended that racial discrimination in voting had magically evaporated, then acted shocked when states sprinted to reinstate voter suppression laws.

This was Roberts’ signature: deregulate the powerful, weaken protections for vulnerable communities, and then express mild surprise when the powerful seize even more power.

Then Came the Monster He Helped Build

For a decade, Roberts controlled the Court by managing Justice Kennedy’s ego and projecting a veneer of institutional neutrality. But once the far-right legal movement captured the Court outright—with Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, and Barrett—Roberts became irrelevant.

And nothing infuriates a man like Roberts more than being irrelevant.

Suddenly he was the “moderate,” not because he changed, but because the rest of the conservative bloc stopped pretending. They didn’t care about incrementalism. They didn’t care about public trust. They didn’t care about Roberts’ obsession with legitimacy. They wanted maximalist rulings, and they wanted them now.

Dobbs was the humiliation heard round the world. Roberts begged for a “compromise,” a middle-ground fantasy where abortion rights could be gutted but not eradicated. The new majority waved him off like an annoyed parent. They had the votes, and they were done with Roberts’ slow-drip revolution.

Roberts Wants to Save the Court From a Crisis He Caused

Roberts keeps warning that the Court risks losing the public’s trust—as if he had no role in setting the stage for its collapse. It was Roberts who weakened the Voting Rights Act. Roberts who empowered billionaire donors in Citizens United. Roberts who shielded corporate interests repeatedly. Roberts who insisted, with a straight face, that the Court is not political even as he stacked the deck for conservative victories.

And now he wants to play umpire while the game burns down.

Roberts didn’t lose control of the Court because he’s a moderate; he lost control because the right-wing legal movement he nurtured no longer needs his caution or his respectability. They have the majority. They have power. And the mask—his mask—is off.

Roberts’ Legacy Is the Court’s Crisis

History won’t remember Roberts as the savior of judicial legitimacy. It will remember him as the architect of the Court’s collapse into partisanship—a man who spent years quietly eroding the foundation of democracy only to be shocked when the roof finally caved in.

He wanted to steer a conservative revolution from the comfort of technocratic respectability. Instead, he built a machine that outran him. He fed the beast, and now it answers to someone else.

John Roberts evolved, all right—not into a moderate, but into a cautionary tale: a conservative who played with fire, insisted it was safe, and now stands in the ashes pretending not to smell the smoke.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

How Citizens United Broke America’s Democracy

OLD and QUIRKY

Why the Billionaires Want You to Forget It

There are a lot of villains in the slow-motion sabotage of American democracy, but few have done more damage—with such smug self-righteousness—than the Supreme Court’s conservative majority in Citizens United v. FEC. With a single ruling, they didn’t just unleash corporate money into politics. They handed the keys of American democracy to the ultra-wealthy and told the rest of us to enjoy the ride.

The right loves to blame polarization, misinformation, even “wokeness” for the chaos in politics. But let’s be honest: the rot set in when the Court declared that corporations are political actors with constitutional rights and billionaires can drown the public square in money if they call it “independent spending.”

It was the judicial equivalent of opening all the vaults on Wall Street and telling the bankers, “Go wild.” And they did.

A Democracy of Donors, Not Voters

Since the ruling, politics has become a playground for the richest Americans—a system where a handful of billionaires can bankroll entire elections, sculpt policy, and effectively decide who even gets a shot at running for office. Working people donate in $20 increments: Sheldon Adelson and Michael Bloomberg toss in $100 million like they’re tipping a bartender.

This isn’t free speech. It’s financial dominance.

The conservative justices insisted that unlimited spending would not corrupt politics because it was technically “independent.” That’s like claiming a hurricane isn’t dangerous because the wind and water don’t officially coordinate. The reality is obvious: when politicians know a super PAC can vaporize their career with a tsunami of attack ads, they behave accordingly. It’s silent extortion, baked into the system.

Dark Money: The Shadow Government

Worse still, Citizens United opened the floodgates for dark money—funds from anonymous donors funneled through nonprofits that exist solely to hide who’s really pulling the levers.

These groups bankroll everything:

  • judicial confirmation blitzes
  • anti-union campaigns
  • disinformation networks
  • climate denial operations
  • statewide ballot fights
  • and candidate-centered propaganda masquerading as “issue ads”

It’s a shadow government with no accountability and no transparency, operating because five justices thought disclosure requirements might “chill speech.” What it chills is democracy.

Policy Written for the Few, Paid for by the Few

There’s a reason Congress can’t pass wildly popular policies like taxing billionaires, raising wages, strengthening unions, or protecting abortion rights. Donors don’t want them.

There’s a reason fossil fuel companies keep winning legislative battles even as the planet burns. Donors pay handsomely for political insulation.

There’s a reason health care remains a corporate profit engine instead of a public good. Dark money groups fueled by insurance executives spend tens of millions to ensure nothing changes.

This is not dysfunction. It’s design.

Public Trust Has Collapsed—and That Was the Point

Americans know the system is rigged. They feel it every time a policy with 70–80% support dies in committee while billionaires get another round of tax cuts. They see it when candidates who appeal to grassroots voters get buried under a flood of super PAC money.

The right often accuses the left of being cynical about institutions. But cynicism didn’t break our faith in democracy. Citizens United did.

The Billionaires Don’t Want Reform—They Want Silence

Every time someone proposes overturning Citizens United, strengthening disclosure laws, or implementing public financing, the same chorus emerges: “You’re trying to limit speech.”

No. We’re trying to resurrect democracy from the ruins your “speech” left behind.

The truth is simple: the only people who benefit from Citizens United are the people with enough money to buy political power. Everyone else pays the price—in weaker protections, broken institutions, and a political system that treats citizens like spectators instead of participants.

It Has to End

A democracy cannot survive when the wealthiest Americans have more political influence than millions of voters combined. The idea that corporations are people with constitutional rights is a lie. The idea that billionaires’ spending is harmless is a fantasy. And the idea that this system is sustainable is delusional.

Citizens United must be overturned—by constitutional amendment, by new disclosure laws, or by a Court that finally remembers democracy matters more than donor privileges.

Until then, the United States will remain a country where elections are technically free, but political power is anything but.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

THE SHUTDOWN

HEALTH CARE OR HOSTAGE POLITICS?

The American Paradox: Paying More for Less in Health and Happiness

America prides itself on innovation, progress, and choice — yet nowhere is the contrast between promise and performance more glaring than in healthcare. The United States spends nearly twice as much per person on medical care as any other developed nation, but Americans live shorter, sicker lives. This paradox — paying more but getting less — lies at the heart of the nation’s struggle with health, cost, and quality of life.

The Price of a Broken System

The United States devotes roughly 17% of its gross domestic product to healthcare, compared to 9%–11% in most advanced economies. On a per-person basis, Americans spend around $13,000 annually, while citizens of Germany, France, or Japan pay closer to $6,000. Those figures would be less concerning if they bought better results — but they don’t.

The problem is not medical technology or clinical skill; American hospitals are among the most advanced in the world. The problem is structure. The U.S. system is fragmented — a patchwork of private insurers, public programs, and employer-based plans riddled with administrative complexity. Paperwork, billing disputes, and insurance red tape account for an estimated 25% of all healthcare spending. Drug prices are unregulated, hospital costs opaque, and the price of a routine procedure can vary wildly from one state — or even one hospital — to another.

Meanwhile, tens of millions remain uninsured or underinsured, facing sky-high deductibles or bills that can wipe out savings overnight. No other developed nation tolerates this level of financial insecurity from illness. Medical debt is the leading cause of personal bankruptcy in the United States — a concept almost unheard of in countries with universal coverage.

The Cost of Inequality

Healthcare in America mirrors the inequality that defines so much of its economy. Access to quality care often depends on income, employment, and geography. Wealthy Americans can buy concierge care and immediate access to specialists, while working-class families struggle to afford even routine checkups. Rural areas, in particular, face hospital closures and physician shortages that leave millions without access to any healthcare.

This inequality directly shapes outcomes. Life expectancy in the United States is now about 77 years, compared to 82 in Canada, France, or Sweden. Infant mortality — a key measure of public health — is nearly double that of most European nations. Chronic diseases such as diabetes, heart disease, and obesity are more prevalent, particularly among lower-income Americans who face barriers to preventive care and healthy living conditions.

When public health is determined by wealth, freedom of choice becomes an illusion. Americans are told they have “choice” in their health system — yet millions must choose between medicine and rent, between therapy and groceries. That is not freedom; it’s a failure of priorities.

Other Nations, Other Models

Contrast this with countries that have made healthcare a social right rather than a market commodity. Nations like Germany, the Netherlands, and Japan operate hybrid systems where private insurers exist but under strict government regulation. Prices are negotiated nationally, administrative costs are kept low, and coverage is universal.

The United Kingdom and Canada use more centralized systems, providing care through public financing with private delivery. In both, patients can see a doctor without fearing a financial catastrophe. There may be longer waits for non-urgent surgeries, but for emergencies and essential care, access is fast, fair, and free at the point of service.

The result? Higher satisfaction, better outcomes, and longer lives. Citizens of these countries report lower stress around healthcare, and governments spend less while achieving more. Preventive medicine is prioritized, public health campaigns are well-funded, and mental health is integrated into a broader system rather than treated as an afterthought.

Debate Over the Affordable Care Act

Fifteen years after its passage, the Affordable Care Act (ACA) remains one of the most transformative and fiercely debated laws in American history. It expanded health coverage, reined in insurance company abuses, and gave millions of Americans the peace of mind that an illness wouldn’t lead to bankruptcy.

Yet, in 2025, the same political forces that tried to destroy the law for over a decade are once again using it as a bargaining chip—shutting down the government rather than fund the very subsidies that keep health care affordable for working families.

This latest standoff in Washington isn’t about fiscal responsibility. It’s about ideology. The subsidies at stake are not handout, they are lifelines. They allow teachers, construction workers, small business owners, and countless others to afford private insurance through ACA marketplaces. Cutting them would send premiums skyrocketing and force millions back into the ranks of the uninsured. That’s not reform; that’s cruelty disguised as conservatism.

Supporters of the ACA understand what’s really at stake: the basic idea that access to health care should not depend on wealth, luck, or political winds. The federal subsidies, strengthened during the pandemic, have proven that smart government action can make a real difference in people’s lives. They lowered costs, stabilized markets, and helped reduce the uninsured rate to historic lows. Rolling them back would undo years of progress—and for what? To make a partisan point?

Opponents of the ACA insist the government can’t afford these subsidies, yet they have no problem defending massive tax cuts for corporations or bloated defense budgets. Their outrage over “government spending” seems oddly selective. When it comes to helping ordinary Americans stay healthy, suddenly the federal purse strings must tighten. But when it comes to subsidies for the wealthy or defense contractors, the deficit mysteriously disappears from the conversation.

Let’s be clear: shutting the government down over ACA funding isn’t fiscal prudence—it’s political hostage-taking. The shutdown will harm the economy, disrupt essential services, and delay paychecks for federal workers, all to deny millions of Americans the help they need to pay for health insurance. It’s a reckless move that reveals more about Washington’s dysfunction than about any real concern for the national budget.

The Affordable Care Act is far from perfect, but it’s progress—tangible, measurable progress. It’s the closest the United States has come to recognizing health care as a right, not a privilege. It has survived repeal efforts, court challenges, and misinformation campaigns because it works. People can see it in their medical bills, their coverage, and their security.

The current debate exposes a stark truth: one side is trying to govern, and the other is trying to sabotage. The choice facing Congress is not about numbers on a balance sheet; it’s about values. Do we continue to support affordable health care for millions, or do we let partisan extremism dismantle one of the most significant social advances in modern history?

The Affordable Care Act has already proven its worth. It’s time for lawmakers to stop playing politics with people’s health—and start acting like the lives of their constituents matter.

The American Choice

America’s health crisis is not inevitable. It is the product of choices — policy choices that favor profit over prevention, competition over coordination, and complexity over compassion. Reforming this system will require confronting powerful industries, from insurance conglomerates to pharmaceutical giants. But it will also demand a cultural shift: to view health not as a personal luxury, but as a public good.

The irony is that the U.S. already leads the world in medical research, biotechnology, and innovation. What it lacks is a delivery system that shares those benefits equitably. Americans could have a healthcare system as modern and humane as their technology allows — if only the political will matched the scientific talent.

Conclusion: A Better Return on Life

Every nation reflects its values in how it treats its people when they are most vulnerable. The United States currently delivers the most expensive care with some of the weakest public outcomes among its peers. Other nations have proven that universal access, cost control, and a commitment to prevention lead not only to healthier citizens but also to happier, more secure societies.

If America wants to improve its quality of life, it doesn’t need to spend more — it needs to spend smarter. Health should be treated not as a commodity to be bought, but as a foundation of freedom itself.

Until that shift occurs, the richest nation on Earth will continue to buy the world’s costliest healthcare — and live shorter, more anxious lives because of it.

T. Michael Smith

Wwwtmichaelsmith.com

The Supreme Court’s Shadow Docket: Democracy in the Dark

The Supreme Court was once the guardian of reasoned justice — a deliberative institution where arguments were heard, opinions were written, and the public could see the logic behind the law. But that vision of the Court is fading fast. In its place stands a majority that increasingly prefers to rule from the shadows, using a secretive mechanism known as the shadow docket to impose sweeping policy decisions without explanation or accountability.

The “shadow docket” sounds mysterious because it is. It refers to the Court’s use of emergency orders — often unsigned, unexplained, and issued in the dead of night — that bypass the normal judicial process. No hearings. No briefs. No transparency. Yet these shadow rulings have decided some of the most consequential issues of our time: immigration, voting rights, reproductive freedom, and public health.

And the justices most eager to use this power sit on theCourt’s conservative wing.

Under Chief Justice John Roberts and his Trump-appointed colleagues — Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, and Barrett — the shadow docket has become a tool for ideological activism masquerading as judicial restraint. Time and again, the conservative majority has used it to quietly deliver victories for right-wing causes while avoiding the public scrutiny that comes with full opinions.

Consider how the Court let Texas’s infamous abortion law, SB 8, take effect in 2021. Without a single oral argument or written justification, the Court’s conservative bloc allowed a law that effectively banned abortions after six weeks to stand. Women’s rights were stripped away overnight — not through a landmark ruling, but through a midnight order.

Or look at voting rights. The shadow docket has been used to reinstate gerrymandered maps and restrictive election laws, often just before an election. Each time, the Court hides behind procedural language about “emergency relief,” but the effect is unmistakable: less access to the ballot for communities of color and more entrenchment for Republican-controlled legislatures.

And while conservatives decry “unelected judges” when liberal rulings displease them, they have no problem using unelected justices to reshape American life from the shadows. This is not judicial humility — it’s power politics cloaked in Latin.

The danger of the shadow docket is not only that it produces bad rulings, but that it erodes public trust in the Court itself. When the majority uses unsigned, unexplained orders to make major legal changes, it sends a clear message: the Court’s power is absolute, and the public has no right to question it. That’s not the rule of law. That’s judicial supremacy.

Democracy cannot function when the most powerful court in the country operates like a political backroom. If the conservative justices believe their decisions are justified, they should have the courage to explain them. Hiding behind the shadow docket betrays both the spirit of the Constitution and the trust of the people.

The Supreme Court’s authority depends on legitimacy — on the belief that its rulings flow from law, not ideology. But every time the conservative majority governs from the shadows, that legitimacy fades a little more. The justices may win their battles for now, but in the long run, they are burning down the very credibility that gives their power meaning.

It’s time to drag the Court back into the light.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com


INSIDERS RULE

Behind the public drama of politics, three powerful insiders—Russell Vought, Stephen Miller, and Pete Hegseth—are quietly reshaping how America is governed. Through budgetary control, ideological messaging, and military command, they are centralizing executive power and transforming democratic institutions from within.

The Impact of Russell Vought, Stephen Miller, and Pete Hegseth

In American politics, power often hides behind the curtain. The figure at the podium is rarely the only force directing the show. Today, three men—Russell Vought, Stephen Miller, and Pete Hegseth—are shaping the contours of government in ways more consequential than any press briefing or campaign rally could convey. They are the insiders of a movement that seeks to refashion not just policies but the very machinery of governance. Together, they represent a new breed of political operator: ideological, disciplined, and determined to subordinate the federal bureaucracy, the military, and the rule of law to a single, commanding vision of executive supremacy.

Russell Vought: The Bureaucratic Revolutionary

Russell Vought, Office of Management and Budget (OMB) director and current architect of the administration’s institutional redesign, operates with a precision born of bureaucratic mastery. His influence extends beyond spreadsheets and budget charts; he is the administrative mind behind what might be called the “restorationist” project—an effort to reclaim the executive branch from what he calls the “deep state.”

Vought has made no secret of his disdain for the permanent civil service. He once said that career bureaucrats should “wake up demoralized,” viewing them as obstacles to the will of the people rather than instruments of democratic governance. His Center for Renewing America, a policy hub that grew out of the Project 2025 blueprint, preaches a mission of cultural and bureaucratic purification—firing, defunding, or dismantling agencies that resist ideological alignment.

Through OMB’s power of the purse, Vought wields quiet but devastating influence. By redirecting grants, freezing disfavored programs, and using impoundment tactics that test the boundaries of congressional authority, he can starve the government’s watchdogs while feeding politically compliant agencies. His budgetary maneuvers operate in the shadows, invisible to the public but transformative in effect. It is governance by attrition—a war on the bureaucracy fought with spreadsheets and rulebooks.

The danger in Vought’s project is not just its ideological bent but its structural audacity. If the executive branch can starve parts of itself without oversight, Congress becomes ornamental. The balance of powers begins to tip, not through coup or crisis, but through the slow erosion of institutional muscle.

Stephen Miller: The Ideologue as Architect

If Vought is the tactician, Stephen Miller is the ideologue. For nearly a decade, Miller has supplied the movement with its defining rhetoric—its story of siege, crisis, and moral war. His fingerprints are on nearly every hardline immigration and security policy of recent years, but his influence runs deeper than policy. He is the voice that tells a particular faction of America that they are losing their country, and that only strongmen and exceptional measures can save it.

Miller’s genius lies in framing every policy dispute as a battle for civilization itself. Court rulings, media criticism, or congressional oversight are not seen as democratic processes but as existential assaults. In this narrative, compromise becomes betrayal, and resistance is treason.

This rhetoric has policy consequences. When officials are described as “enemies within,” it justifies purges. When judicial constraints are recast as “insurrection,” it legitimizes executive defiance. Miller’s language—once dismissed as campaign bluster—now shapes the tone and tenor of actual governance. His worldview defines who belongs and who doesn’t, who deserves protection and who must be punished.

Even within Republican ranks, Miller’s absolutism has provoked anxiety. Some strategists warn that his style of politics—driven by confrontation rather than persuasion—risks alienating allies and moderates. Yet Miller’s influence persists because he has mastered the emotional grammar of populism. He gives moral urgency to the machinery Vought is re-engineering.

Pete Hegseth: The Soldier-Politician

Where Vought manipulates budgets and Miller molds narratives, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth embodies the movement’s muscle. A former Army officer and Fox News commentator, Hegseth has redefined the Pentagon’s mission to align with culture-war politics. His rhetoric is steeped in calls for a return to “warrior ethos” and a purge of what he derides as “woke” ideology.

Under Hegseth’s leadership, the military’s focus has shifted from global alliances toward internal purification. He has removed diversity, equity, and inclusion offices, disciplined officers deemed politically disloyal, and re-centered defense discourse around patriotism, masculinity, and obedience. In public speeches, Hegseth often warns that the “real threats” to America are not foreign adversaries but internal decay—an argument that edges dangerously close to politicizing the military itself.

Recent controversies surrounding leaked internal communications—revealing the sharing of sensitive operational details on private channels—highlight the erosion of professional norms within the defense establishment. The line between civilian control of the military and partisan mobilization is thinning. When the Pentagon becomes a stage for ideological cleansing, the apolitical character of the armed forces—the bedrock of American stability—comes under strain.

Hegseth’s impact is not only operational but symbolic. He represents the militarization of political identity—the idea that loyalty and strength outweigh process and pluralism. That ethos, once confined to cable talk shows, is now shaping command decisions and promotions.

The Triad of Power

Individually, Vought, Miller, and Hegseth wield immense influence within their domains. Collectively, they represent a coherent strategy: to consolidate executive authority, neutralize bureaucratic resistance, and reframe democracy as a struggle between patriots and traitors.

Their methods intersect. Miller provides the moral justification; Vought designs the bureaucratic architecture; Hegseth enforces the cultural and military discipline. The result is a kind of ideological fusion—one that sees government not as a pluralistic arena of negotiation, but as a unified instrument of will.

In this configuration, checks and balances are not safeguards but obstacles. Independent agencies, congressional oversight, and judicial review are recast as forms of sabotage. The traditional American notion of governance—built on deliberation and dispersed power—gives way to a more centralized, combative model: rule by command rather than consent.

The Risks Ahead

The genius of this insider movement lies in its subtlety. There is no overt coup, no tanks in the streets. Instead, there is administrative attrition, rhetorical escalation, and institutional corrosion. It is power exercised through procedures, not proclamations.

The immediate consequence is polarization, but the long-term danger is institutional fatigue. A government demoralized and distrusted cannot sustain itself indefinitely. Bureaucrats stripped of independence become servants of the moment. Generals politicized by ideology lose credibility with the public. And when every opponent is treated as an enemy, democracy becomes indistinguishable from permanent war.

There are, of course, countervailing forces—career officials who resist unlawful orders, courts that push back, and citizens who still believe in pluralism. But the burden of resistance has shifted from institutions to individuals. The system that once protected itself now depends on the courage of those within it.

Conclusion: The Architecture of Control

Russell Vought, Stephen Miller, and Pete Hegseth are not fringe figures; they are the governing class of a movement intent on remaking the American state in its own image. They wield ideology as strategy and bureaucracy as weapon. Their goal is not just to win elections but to rewire government itself—to replace institutional balance with ideological purity.

The story of these insiders is a reminder that democracies rarely fall in dramatic fashion. More often, they are remodeled from within—one regulation, one firing, one speech at a time. The question now is not whether their influence will endure, but how much of the old constitutional order will remain when they are done.

HEALTHCARE IN FLUX!

OLD and QUIRKY

Health Care Administration: The 2025 Crisis of Leadership and Its Consequences

The year 2025 has been one of the most disruptive in recent memory for health care administration in the United States. Alongside sweeping regulatory changes, rapid adoption of artificial intelligence, and continued struggles with workforce shortages, a wave of firings and forced resignations at the highest levels of public health agencies has shaken the system. Senior officials at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), and the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) have been dismissed, sometimes with little explanation, and thousands of staff have been laid off in broader restructuring efforts. While leadership changes are not uncommon in government, the scale and speed of these removals in 2025 stand out—and they raise pressing questions about institutional stability, scientific independence, and leadership at the top level.

High-Profile Firings and Political Tensions

The most visible episode was the firing of Susan Monarez, the newly appointed CDC Director, who was dismissed less than a month into her tenure. Reports suggest that her removal followed disagreements with HHS leadership over vaccine policy, an issue that has become politically charged. Her abrupt departure was followed by additional resignations and firings of senior CDC officials, creating leadership vacuums in areas critical to public health, such as infectious disease surveillance and vaccine advisory committees.

This turmoil was not confined to the CDC. Across the broader HHS system, mass layoffs and reductions in force affected thousands of employees, including scientists, policy analysts, and career administrators. The FDA and CMS also saw leadership turnover, with concerns that ideological shifts rather than performance metrics were driving personnel decisions. For critics, these moves represent an erosion of scientific independence; for supporters, they are an effort to realign agencies with new political priorities. Secretary Kennedy is at the center of all this chaos. This sort of chaos, particularly with vaccines, has led to an increase in reported cases of measles and will most likely result in an increase of infectious diseases.

Risks of Leadership Instability

The consequences of these firings are multifaceted. First is the loss of institutional knowledge. Senior officials often carry decades of expertise, and their departure leaves behind gaps that cannot easily be filled by newcomers. For programs like disease outbreak monitoring, vaccine development, or regulatory review of new therapies, institutional memory is not just helpful—it is essential for effective decision-making.

Second, leadership turnover creates operational disruption. Programs that depend on consistent oversight can stall or lose direction when key personnel are removed. Policy implementation may be delayed, messaging to the public can become inconsistent, and ongoing projects may be abandoned before completion. In the case of vaccine guidance, even small lapses in clarity can undermine public compliance at critical moments.

Third, these actions have a direct impact on staff morale and retention. When firings appear abrupt, politically motivated, or poorly communicated, the remaining workforce experiences heightened insecurity and stress. This climate can accelerate turnover among mid-level staff, further eroding the talent pool and deepening the workforce crisis already facing public health.

Finally, perhaps the most damaging consequence is the erosion of public trust. Health agencies depend on credibility to persuade the public to follow guidance, especially in times of crisis. If firings suggest that science takes a back seat to politics, or that expert voices are silenced, the public should become skeptical of future recommendations. The result is reduced compliance with public health measures, widening inequities, and greater vulnerability to health threats.

Legal and Governance Implications

The wave of firings has also triggered legal and regulatory challenges. Some dismissals, such as Monarez’s, have been questioned on procedural grounds, with legal scholars debating whether statutory protections for certain positions were respected. Congressional committees have begun inquiries into whether the removals undermine the independence of federally mandated programs. Beyond individual cases, these disputes highlight a deeper governance issue: how to balance political leadership with the stability required for scientific and administrative effectiveness.

Conclusion

The firings of 2025 have underscored how fragile health care administration can be when leadership instability collides with political conflict, in this case Secretary Kennedy. Clearly the information used by Secretary Kennedy has little to no scientific validity and when testifying before Congress he resorts to anger when it becomes apparent that he lacks the knowledge to provide correct answers. Removing key personnel may realign agencies with new priorities driven by politics, but it also risks undermining expertise, disrupting operations, and eroding public confidence.

Ultimately, health care administration depends on more than policies and technologies; it depends on the stability of the people who lead and the trust they command. The turbulence of 2025 offers a stark reminder that protecting these human and institutional foundations is as important as any regulatory reform or technological breakthrough.

T.  Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith