In a political landscape often defined by cynicism, Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, and Bill Kristol make a startlingly counter-intuitive claim: that the most profound moral clarity of our time is not found in Washington, but in the quiet resistance of ordinary citizens. They juxtapose the grim reality of a stalled economy and institutional rot against the heroic, often overlooked actions of people in Minneapolis, Ukraine, and the families of Jeffrey Epstein's victims. This is not a standard policy critique; it is a moral inventory that forces the reader to confront the gap between the administration's actions and the nation's conscience.
The High and The Low
The authors anchor their argument in the philosophy of Leo Strauss, using a 1965 insight to frame their entire analysis. "It is safer," they write, quoting the philosopher, "to try to understand the low in the light of the high than the high in the light of the low." This framing is the piece's intellectual engine. By choosing to look at the "low"—the corruption, the cover-ups, the economic stagnation—through the lens of the "high," they avoid the trap of despair. Instead, they highlight specific acts of courage that exist despite the current political climate.
They point to Minneapolis, where citizens organized to monitor civil liberties and mourned victims like Renee Good and Alex Pretti. The authors describe a hand-made placard at a memorial site bearing the words, "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." This detail serves as a powerful counter-narrative to the prevailing sense of helplessness. The authors argue that these local efforts represent a form of resistance that the federal government has abandoned.
We do not lack today for examples of the impressive, of the admirable, of the high—yes, of the heroic.
This observation is particularly sharp when contrasted with the administration's handling of the Jeffrey Epstein scandal. While the authors note that European nations are finally pursuing criminal probes into the complicity of their nationals, they argue that the executive branch in the United States has become an obstacle to justice. They write, "We have an executive branch that is on the side of the Epstein class, not the Epstein survivors." This is a damning indictment of the current administration's priorities, suggesting a systemic alignment with power rather than the rule of law.
Critics might argue that focusing on individual moral heroism distracts from the need for structural political solutions. However, Longwell, Miller, and Kristol contend that without this moral anchor, structural change is impossible. They insist that understanding the "low" in light of the "high" is the only way to ensure the former does not consume the latter.
The Economics of Stagnation
The commentary does not shy away from the material consequences of the administration's policies. The authors note that the U.S. economy grew by a mere 1.4 percent in the fourth quarter of 2025, a figure that falls significantly short of the 2.5 to 3 percent economists had predicted. They attribute this slowdown not just to a record-long government shutdown, but to broader policy choices. "But there are knock-on effects, too—all those employees who aren't getting paid are spending less money, and so on and so on," they explain. The authors then point a finger at the administration's aggressive tactics, noting, "And, oh, yeah, also the tariffs and the deportation of large parts of the workforce. Could be those had something to do with it, too."
This economic analysis is woven into the broader moral argument. The authors suggest that the administration's focus on mass deportation and intimidation is not only ethically bankrupt but economically self-defeating. They write, "Some adjustments in tactics notwithstanding, the Trump administration remains all in on its commitment to mass deportation, mass intimidation, and mass brutalization." The implication is clear: a government that brutalizes its own workforce and shuts down its own institutions cannot expect to foster prosperity.
The authors also touch on the administration's stance toward Ukraine as we approach the fourth anniversary of the full-scale Russian invasion. They describe the Ukrainian people as fighting "heroically and with amazing success, despite the abandonment by their largest arms supplier and most powerful ally, the government of the United States." This framing highlights the disconnect between American values and American foreign policy. The authors quote the administration's threat to Kyiv: "Ukraine better come to the table fast. That's all I'm telling you." They interpret this not as a peace plan, but as a capitulation to aggression.
The Scandal of Inaction
The piece shifts to a specific, harrowing example of political rot: the death of Regina Santos-Aviles, a congressional staffer who died by suicide after an alleged affair with Representative Tony Gonzales. The authors detail how Gonzales initially denied the affair, only for evidence to emerge that he had cut her off after her husband discovered the relationship. "Tony abused his power," her widowed husband, Adrian Aviles, is quoted as saying. "I hope that Tony will stand up and be accountable for his actions."
Instead of stepping down, Gonzales has doubled down, accusing his critics of blackmail and demanding the release of police reports that contain graphic details of his wife's suffering. The authors describe this as a "horrible, stomach-churning story" that reveals the depths of the current political culture. They note that despite the scandal, Gonzales faces no pressure from his party to resign, largely because of the razor-thin majority in the House and the continued endorsement of the administration.
It's a horrible, stomach-churning story, the kind that would send any politician with the tiniest ounce of shame immediately out of the public eye and perhaps into monastic life.
The authors point out that the administration's support for Gonzales is part of a broader pattern of protecting its own. They mention that the administration's political operation sent a cease-and-desist letter to a challenger demanding he stop using the former president's image, while the former president himself called Gonzales a "terrific Representative." This loyalty, the authors argue, is bought at the cost of accountability and decency.
The Ballroom and the Reality
Finally, the authors turn their attention to the administration's vanity projects, specifically the approval of a $400 million ballroom to replace the East Wing of the White House. They note that the Commission of Fine Arts, now composed entirely of administration appointees, moved with "unusual speed" to approve the project. The commission chair is quoted praising the design, saying, "The president has actually designed a very beautiful structure... It is really outrageous that we do that, and no president has really stepped up to the plate to require that be corrected, until President Trump."
The authors use this anecdote to illustrate the administration's disconnect from reality. While the nation grapples with economic slowdown, civil liberties abuses, and international aggression, the executive branch is focused on constructing a monument to itself. They write, "Maybe now we finally have a chance at being a great and good country," using sarcasm to underscore the absurdity of the situation. This focus on grandiosity while ignoring the suffering of citizens is, they argue, the ultimate manifestation of the "low" they described earlier.
Bottom Line
The strongest element of this commentary is its refusal to accept the administration's narrative of strength, instead revealing a government that is economically stagnant, morally compromised, and obsessed with self-aggrandizement. Its greatest vulnerability lies in its reliance on a philosophical framework that may feel abstract to readers seeking immediate policy solutions, yet it effectively argues that without a moral foundation, policy is meaningless. The reader should watch for whether this grassroots resistance in places like Minneapolis can translate into a broader political movement capable of challenging the administration's grip on power.