One of the perennial debate questions among scholars of American government, pundits, and anti-government elements is the extent to which the power of the American President, relative to Congress and the Judiciary, has grown. It’s a serious question, and in my mind breaks into two parts:
- The legal limitations, which are far more fluid than one might think. In some respects, the limitations are being discovered as Presidents choose to undertake certain actions. For example, was President Obama’s order to strike Libya without prior Congressional approval legal? Of course, in the minds of the hysterics and ideologues, this can get a little out of control. For example, this quote from Mark Levin: “When Obama is not in full Marxist mode, he’s in full Mussolini mode.”
- The second part boils down to pure politics. How much influence on Congress does the President have? This is a volatile measure, affected not only by the parties controlling Congress and the Executive, but even their tempers of the time. The Republicans since 2000 are a far different, less responsible breed than those of the 1970s. But a President can exert a measure of control over Congress, depending on his influence.
This all came to mind while scanning Steve Benen’s commentary concerning Trump’s desire to privatize many of the functions of the FAA.
Circling back to our previous coverage, yesterday’s developments didn’t come as too big of a surprise. Sen. John Thune (R-S.D.), who chairs the relevant Senate committee, specifically warned the White House that the privatization idea was unlikely to go anywhere. Perhaps Trump thought by throwing his weight behind the proposal, it’d create some momentum for the presidential priority.
It didn’t. The president’s political capital doesn’t really exist in any meaningful sense.
Political capital is another way of describing influence. While politicians are often vilified for lying, in many cases constituents are the victims of the lies, or the predictions that didn’t come out, or the promises which turned out to be unviable. My point is that politicians, good politicians, don’t lie to each other as much.
But Trump? He lies and he lies and he lies. To everyone.
And this has consequences when it comes to influence. Influence is effective when people know that when you say you’re going to do something, you’re going to do it. Even failing, at least you swung at it. But if you’re known as a liar, then you end up on the Disregard List. When Trump changes one position for another because of something he’s seen on TV – on Fox News, no less – then his erstwhile allies, nevermind his enemies, realize that he’s not worth a shit in a fight. He may punch back hard, as he claims, but when it’s 450 lawmakers against one weak President, I don’t care what lies come spewing out of his Twitter account, he will lose. Especially when the Judiciary is unhappy with him.
And, surely, for those Mark Levins and others who worry about the power of the Presidency, this must be a relief, if they’re honest people. Because this makes President Trump one of the weakest Presidents since, oh, Harding? I suppose it’s hard to say. But between his poor international leadership skills and his waning influence at home, which is now mainly made up of what’s left of those who voted for him and are still enraptured by his style, he has little true political influence.
And, given the strong persona he projected during the campaign, this would greatly upset those supporters, if they could only sit down and think about it.
