Heather Cox Richardson delivers a searing indictment of the current executive branch, arguing that the presidency has been weaponized not for governance, but for a personal brand expansion that would be unthinkable in any other democratic era. The piece's most startling claim is not merely that the administration seeks to profit, but that it is actively constructing a legal and financial architecture to monetize the office itself, treating the United States as a private holding company. This is not standard political posturing; it is a fundamental redefinition of the presidency that demands immediate attention from anyone concerned with the rule of law.
The Commercialization of the Presidency
Richardson begins by exposing a mechanism of self-enrichment that bypasses traditional ethical guardrails. She highlights a recent filing where representatives for the administration sought to trademark the president's name for use on airports and merchandise. "Never in the history of the United States," she notes, citing trademark lawyer Josh Gerben, has "a sitting president's private company…sought trademark rights" before such a naming. This legal maneuver transforms public infrastructure into a licensing opportunity, forcing any airport that adopts the name to pay a fee to a private entity.
The article connects this to a broader pattern of quid pro quo governance. Richardson details how billions in congressionally appropriated funds for a Hudson River tunnel were withheld by the Office of Management and Budget until Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer agreed to name Dulles Airport and Penn Station after the president. The stakes are high, with Florida legislators now pushing to rename their state's airport, a move estimated to cost taxpayers millions. Richardson frames this not as a policy dispute but as a transaction: "The Trump grab for an airport named after him is just the latest grift in a presidential term that experts so far estimate has enriched the Trump family by at least $4 billion."
This framing is particularly effective because it moves beyond the personality of the leader to the structural corruption of the system. By linking the trademark filing to the withholding of infrastructure funds, Richardson illustrates how the executive branch is leveraging its power to extract value from the public purse. Critics might argue that naming rights are a common fundraising tool, but the context here—using federal leverage to force the naming while simultaneously collecting private licensing fees—distinguishes this from standard political practice.
The Erosion of Institutional Norms
The commentary deepens by examining the financial entanglements of the administration's inner circle. Richardson points to a massive cryptocurrency deal involving the United Arab Emirates' sovereign wealth fund, which invested $500 million in a Trump family company just days before the inauguration. This transaction funneled hundreds of millions into family entities and those of Steve Witkoff, whom the president had recently appointed as his Middle East envoy. Richardson writes, "This deal put $187 million immediately into Trump family entities and at least $31 million into entities owned by the family of Steve Witkoff."
The administration's defense, as quoted by Richardson, is a dismissal of these conflicts: "President Trump only acts in the best interests of the American public... There are no conflicts of interest." Richardson dismantles this by contrasting it with the administration's aggressive legal posture against the Internal Revenue Service. She notes that the president has sued the IRS for $10 billion over a data leak, a move she characterizes as an attempt to silence oversight. "Trump has control over the IRS, and Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent says he will write whatever check he is told to cut," she observes, suggesting a shift toward autocratic control where the government's financial machinery serves the leader's personal litigation strategy.
The presidency has been redefined from a public trust into a private franchise, where the office itself is the primary asset to be leveraged.
This section of the argument is bolstered by historical context. Richardson draws a sharp line between the current administration and the precedents set by George Washington. She reminds readers that Washington, despite having the power to do so, refused to profit from his office, stating, "I walk on untrodden ground... There is scarcely any part of my conduct w[hi]ch may not hereafter be drawn into precedent." Washington's refusal to accept payments beyond his salary was a deliberate act to establish the presidency as a servant of the public, not a source of personal wealth. Richardson argues that the current administration is doing the exact opposite, turning the office into a vehicle for "aggrandizement" rather than public service.
The Collapse of Accountability
The final thrust of Richardson's piece is a warning about the collapse of the checks and balances designed to prevent tyranny. She traces the history of political parties from the 1830s to the Watergate era, noting that even in moments of deep crisis, institutional loyalty to the Constitution eventually prevailed. She recounts how Republican senators warned Richard Nixon that impeachment was inevitable, leading to his resignation. "They urged him to resign, which he did on August 8, 1974," she writes, marking the only time a president has stepped down.
In contrast, Richardson argues that today's political landscape has replaced institutional loyalty with personal devotion. "Since then, Republicans have fallen into the trap Washington warned against in his Farewell Address, putting party over country," she asserts. This partisanship has created a shield for corruption, allowing figures like Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to make bizarre claims about public health without consequence, or Office of Management and Budget director Russell Vought to divert funds meant for starving children to his own security detail. Richardson cites reports that Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem is traveling in a $70 million luxury jet, while the administration ignores the human cost of its policies.
The piece culminates with a reflection on legacy. Richardson contrasts the president's desire to be carved into Mount Rushmore with the actual reasons the existing presidents are honored. She notes that the sculptor Gutzon Borglum chose Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt for their contributions to the nation's foundation, expansion, preservation, and protection of workers. "Trump's interest in being added to Mount Rushmore does not appear to be related to a desire to advance the interests of the American people," Richardson concludes. Instead, the administration is creating a "Trump-Epstein" legacy, a rebranding of history that prioritizes self-promotion over public good.
Critics might argue that the focus on financial transactions distracts from policy achievements, but Richardson's evidence suggests that the financial entanglements are not a distraction—they are the core of the administration's strategy. The refusal to separate personal gain from public duty undermines the very legitimacy of the office.
Bottom Line
Richardson's strongest argument lies in her historical juxtaposition of Washington's restraint against the current administration's greed, effectively framing the trademark filing not as a business move but as a constitutional crisis. The piece's greatest vulnerability is its reliance on the assumption that institutional norms will eventually reassert themselves, a premise that seems increasingly fragile given the current erosion of oversight. Readers should watch for how the courts respond to the administration's attempts to monetize the presidency, as this legal battle will likely define the next decade of American governance.