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A federal grand jury in April 2026 charged James Comey with making a threat against President Donald Trump and transmitting a crime across state lines.

The charges came after Comey, the former FBI director, posted an image of seashells on a North Carolina beach, arranged in the form of the numerals “86” and “47.” Forty-seven was an ostensible reference to Trump, the 47th U.S. president, and 86 to a colloquial expression conveying a sense of “getting rid of” or “casting aside.”

But is “86 47” really a threat? And if so, is it a criminal one amounting to a threat to assassinate the president, as prosecutors have suggested?

In contrast to crimes such as murder or arson, which can be committed without uttering – or writing – a single word, threats are inherently crimes of language. They don’t exist without the linguistic symbols used to convey them.

Linguists like me who work in the field of language and the law understand these types of crimes to be “speech acts,” utterances that perform the action they name. What is a promise if not the words “I promise” or an apology if not the words “I’m sorry”?

The law is full of speech acts. Rulings, verdicts and arrests are all speech acts. So, too, are the crimes of language: solicitation, perjury, bribery and threats.

What is a threat?

Threats are language that states or implies the intent to intimidate or create harm. As a speech act, they need not be direct but often are.

In December 1984, the White House mail room received a letter with the message, “Ronnie, Listen Chump! Resign or You’ll Get Your Brains Blown Out,” referring to President Ronald Reagan. Below these words was a drawing of a pistol with a bullet being ejected from the barrel.

The Secret Service conducted a handwriting comparison analysis of the words, which led to the arrest of David Hoffman. He stated that “he didn’t know it was against the law to threaten the President.”

But Hoffman did commit a language crime. Although he didn’t use the words “I threaten to blow your brains out if you don’t resign,” the passive construction “you’ll get your brains blown out” accompanied by a drawing of a pistol constituted a direct threat that expressed a clear intent to intimidate and harm the president.

The scientific process of dictionaries

This brings us to the Comey case. Can a photo of 38 seashells arranged in the numerals “86” and “47,” and broadcast over Instagram, constitute a threat against Trump?

In theory, “86 47” could be an indirect threat, but the interpretation of Comey’s message really hinges on the meaning of “86” when used as a verb.

This is where tools of forensic linguistics, which helps solve crime and resolve matters of language and the law, can help.

The first tool is lexicography, the academic study of creating dictionaries. A classic maxim of lexicography is that dictionaries are out of date before they are printed. It’s a nod to the fact that words’ meanings change and new words enter the language quickly.

Although dictionaries are imperfect, their definitions are the result of the rigorous study of word meaning and adherence to the scientific process of lexicography, the practice of writing and editing dictionaries and other reference materials.

In the Comey case, we would expect to find “86” listed as a noun. But the inclusion of the nonstandard verb form – “to 86” – would tell us that what may seem mysterious and cryptic actually has a conventionalized and well-recognized meaning.

Of the five major dictionaries of contemporary English I consulted, all had entries for “86” as a verb. The Oxford English Dictionary, for example, includes: “to eject or debar (a person) from premises; to reject or abandon; (in earliest use) to refuse to serve (a customer).”

Oxford also offers this second entry: “In restaurants and bars, an expression indicating that the supply of an item is exhausted.” This may explain why many restaurant workers across the country have strong reactions to the Comey indictment.

The American Heritage Dictionary definition includes “to refuse to serve (an unwelcome customer) at a bar or restaurant; to throw out, eject; to throw away, discard.” Merriam-Webster provides a similar definition: “to refuse to serve (a customer); to eject or ban (a customer); broadly, to eject, dismiss or remove (someone).”

Collins Dictionary offers two entries, the first in line with the others – “ to reject from, or to refuse to serve at” – and the second: “to cut off, eject, cancel, eliminate, kill, etc.”

The dictionary evidence is therefore mixed: Most definitions convey a sense of “kicking out” or “refusing service,” but Collins does include “kill” as a secondary definition.

How ordinary speakers of English use ‘86’

More evidence is needed, so I turned to the second tool: linguistic corpora. A corpus – plural: corpora – is a collection of texts chosen to represent language as it is actually produced by speakers and writers across genres and time periods. Linguistic corpora are useful because they show us usage in context, while providing enough data to conduct quantitative analysis of word meaning.

With over 1 billion words, the Corpus of Contemporary American English is the largest corpus of spoken and written American English available today. I analyzed usage of the word “86” in the corpus and found 372 attestations in full form – “eighty-six,” not “86.”

The vast majority of the attestations had nothing to do with “ejecting.” But in a random sample of 100 cases of “eighty-six,” 20% were the verb form conveying the sense of “discard” or “eject.” Of those, two attestations meant “to kill,” and both came from fictional television and film. Far more common were expressions such as “Definitely 86 the coat, it sends the wrong message” and “Can we 86 the flags, please?”

When the direct object of the verb was a human subject, “86” still overwhelmingly meant “to discard” or “eject,” including this example when the subject was another sitting U.S. president: “Obama’s going to lose this election … they will blame his one term on a homophobic electorate who chose to eighty-six him because of his SSM stance,” in reference to his support for gay marriage.

In the Obama case, “86” clearly meant “vote him out.”

User-generated dictionaries are a third tool linguists use to analyze word meaning in the context of language crimes. They are less reliable than dictionaries written by professional lexicographers, but – like corpora – they give us a sense of the pulse of the language as it’s happening now.

Although they often contain factual errors, they tell us what English speakers think they know about the origins and meanings of words – a useful tool for analyzing language crimes.

I studied the entries provided by users for “86” on Urban Dictionary, where the highest-ranked definition is “to remove, end usage, or take away.” Of the 63 entries, only seven mention killing, one of those in reference to the Comey seashells. The vast majority of other entries align with the dictionary evidence: 86 means to get rid of something, or to have run out of a key ingredient.

The Comey indictment states that “a reasonable recipient who is familiar with the circumstances would interpret” Comey’s post “as a serious expression of an intent to do harm to President Trump.”

Looking across dictionaries, linguistic corpora and user-generated dictionaries, “eighty-six” could mean to kill but probably doesn’t. A general speaker of contemporary American English would interpret Comey’s post as an expression of opinion, a desire to “eject” the president from office.

Phillip M. Carter does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

Younger Americans have soured on the second Donald Trump presidency, but they are not protesting it.

Despite an unpopular Iran war and an even more unpopular Trump administration, college campus protests nationwide have gone silent. And at many schools, student activism is virtually nonexistent.

This silence comes in the wake of a relentless Trump administration war on campus speech that has involved lawsuits, arrests, deportations and expulsions.

Reports cite a range of complicated factors for the restraint, from apathy to technology-induced incapacity. But as public policy and law and social science experts, we believe students aren’t protesting for a very simple reason: They are afraid. They are self-censoring and disengaging from campaign activism to avoid punitive measures.

In law and social science, we call this impact a chilling effect – the behavioral tendency for people in face of a threat to self-censor and restrain their activities for self-protection.

It’s increasingly clear to us that these impacts are not incidental or ancillary to Trump administration policy. Rather, the chilling effects are the point. This is the closest thing to a consistent governing strategy in Trump’s second term.

The broader chill of Trump threats

Chilling effects can be subtle, but today they are everywhere. And it’s not just students who are chilled by Trump administration threats.

Professors are censoring themselves in lectures and rewriting syllabuses. Researchers are stripping grant applications of words that might attract federal scrutiny, or abandoning the topics entirely. Media outlets are modifying their news coverage to avoid Trump lawsuits or sanctions.

Law enforcement and regulatory agencies are refusing to investigate Trump-aligned actors inside or outside government, and major national law firms are declining cases challenging Trump administration policies.

Publishers are “stepping back” from LGBTQ+ books and other progressive subjects. Many in targeted immigrant communities are afraid to leave home to go to work or school.

In most cases, these people and institutions are not being specifically targeted or threatened by Trump. But they are afraid, and their fear is doing the administration’s work for it. They stay silent, avoid attention and confrontation, and look the other way. In other cases, they change their speech and behavior to accommodate or conform to the administration’s worldview.

Of course, there are counterexamples, such as the winter protests in Minneapolis in response to brutality by agents with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and the recent “No Kings” rallies. But even here, the broader but less visible trend – chilling effects – is evident.

For instance, in recent reporting on the latest No Kings rallies, many media outlets observed that students were noticeably missing, despite the Trump administration’s unpopularity among younger Americans.

A persistent strategy

We believe none of this is by accident.

In a new book, “Chilling Effects: Repression, Conformity, and Power in the Digital Age,” one of us – Jon Penney – explains how law, technology, and state and corporate power are weaponized to chill and repress, and the dangers this poses for the United States and other democratic societies. The other – Bruce Schneier – has extensively studied the security infrastructure enabling this.

What we see isn’t gratuitous government cruelty, chaos or vengeance. Instead, we see a persistent strategy to maximize fear and chilling effects in ways that are corrosive to freedom and democracy.

Research suggests that surveillance, personal threats, uncertainty and abuse of power are key factors in doing so. The federal government has a clear and systematic pattern of employing these very mechanisms across a number of domains far beyond campuses.

They are evident in militarized raids by Immigration and Customs Enforcement and in journalists being arrested and indicted for reporting on protests. They are made clear in the long list of political enemies the Trump administration has investigated or threatened, including the Federal Reserve chairman. And they can also be seen in the weaponization of technology, including ramping up surveillance to target critics and protestors.

Corrosive to freedom and democracy

History offers some guidance on impacts.

During the McCarthy era, overreaching laws, surveillance, and public and private sector reprisals ostensibly targeted alleged communists. But the real aim was often to suppress progressive journalists, trade unions and political opposition.

In the 1960s, these same tactics were reused by Southern states to chill the Civil Rights Movement. Historians have written about how the widespread fear and conformity of these periods reshaped American society in enduring ways, including the destruction of progressive political movements and both delaying and muting the Civil Rights Movement itself.

When such state threats are systematized, they can foment a broader climate of fear, self-censorship and conformity. In that climate, dissenting speech, political opposition, democratic mobilization and other checks on power become increasingly difficult, even dangerous. It is no surprise, for instance, that Trump critics regularly admit to self-censorship, fearing for their safety.

Chilling effects are thus not only repressive – causing self-censorship – but productive. They produce conforming and compliant speech and behavior, which can have longer-term social impacts. They not only undermine protected rights and suppress accountability but can promote social change – even without a popular mandate to do so.

This latter point is often missed. It explains Trump’s assaults on universities and cultural institutions such as the Kennedy Center for the Arts and the Smithsonian. Often dismissed as peculiar Trump obsessions, they are fully consistent with Project 2025 – the sweeping policy blueprint for Trump’s second term authored by a coalition of conservative groups and its call to target the “institutions of American civil society” and “wield federal power” to “reverse” decades of progressive cultural advancements.

In the near term, this means an increasingly weakened democratic society, with the government and its patrons enjoying freedom to pursue their objectives. Over the long term, this can mean a changed society as more conformist and compliant speech and culture become more widely accepted and entrenched.

Not inevitable

In our view, this future is not inevitable, just as the McCarthy era “Red Scare” and violent civil rights era repression were not. In both cases, fear and chilling effects were resisted in law and civil society, as they can be today.

But the central mechanisms – surveillance, uncertainty, personal threats and abuse of power – would need to be addressed. For instance, new legislation could ensure justice for lawless government actors and constrain surveillance. Courts can block abuses of federal power, including illegal arrests, detentions and mass citizen databases.

The media, lawyers and civil society can hold the government accountable. And students, teachers, universities and cultural institutions can resist the tendency to self-censor and conform.

The citizen mobilization in Minnesota and the No Kings rallies are examples of that. But to resist chilling effects and their dangers over the long term, this would have to be the norm, not the exception.

Jon Penney has acted as an expert witness, on a pro bono basis, for the American Civil Liberties Association in litigation challenging the legality of government surveillance.

Bruce Schneier does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

In Colorado, a national debate about the role of Latinos in American society has deep roots in the state’s history, current identity — and future.

I’m a professor of ethnic studies at Colorado State University. I recently published a book titled “Latino Colorado: The Struggle for Equality in the Centennial State.” In it, I explore how Latinos in Colorado have bridged Old West and New West industries to help our state grow. As a longtime resident of the state, I have witnessed many of these socioeconomic phenomena firsthand and through my research.

Latinos have always been a part of the Colorado story. Let’s look at some ways Latinos help drive the state’s economy and contribute to its unique culture and lifestyle.

Latino labor in Colorado

Latinos were the first Coloradans.

San Luis was founded in 1851 by Hispanic settlers from northern New Mexico. It is the oldest continuously inhabited town in the state. In the late 19th century, Hispanic Coloradans and immigrants from Mexico fanned across the territory and later the state to work in mining, the railroad industry and the emerging agricultural sector.

In the fist decades of the 20th century, Colorado’s sugar beet industry relied heavily on Latino workers. Those workers then established Hispanic neighborhoods in cities along the Front Range and the Eastern Plains.

Colorado’s geographic diversity has led to the development of numerous economic sectors from so-called Old West industries like agriculture, cattle ranching and mining to New West industries like tourism, real estate and tech startups.

The running thread of Colorado’s diverse economic picture is its reliance on Latino labor, whether from U.S.-born or immigrant workers. The state has relied on this labor practically since the territory was acquired from Mexico in 1848. The region known as the Western Slope is a good example of this trend.

In the Western Slope, Latino workers were the muscle behind the building of railroad lines and the growth of the sugar beet industry in the early 20th century. Latino immigrants still work in the oil and gas industry and the fruit orchards that dot the region. But, more recently, their descendants have moved into the middle class. They’ve opened small businesses and some have even become white collar professionals.

As tourism began to flourish in the Western Slope in the 1990s, Latinos quickly became the indispensable labor force that kept the ski resorts, hotels and restaurants running. And as Baby Boomers began to retire and move to the region, Latino labor supported the construction boom fueled by this demographic shift. There is practically no sector of the Western Slope’s — and the state’s — economy that does not rely on Latino labor.

Latino demographic shifts

Latinos have also driven the Western Slope’s demographic growth. The expansion of the real estate and tourism sectors around the turn of the 21st century attracted tens of thousands of Latinos to the region. They came from Colorado’s Front Range, other U.S. states and Mexico and Central America.

Their presence has revitalized towns historically afflicted by the woes of the boom-and-bust cycles of the oil and gas industry. For example, along the west I-70 corridor, towns such as Eagle, Edwards and Gypsum in Eagle County, and towns like Glenwood Springs, Parachute, Rifle and Silt in Garfield County, have seen their Latino populations soar with the arrival of families attracted to job opportunities in resort destinations like Vail and Aspen. By 2020, Latinos made up more than a third of these counties’ total populations compared to the 1990s when Latinos made up less than 10% of the population in the region.

Further west, Montrose’s Latino population has grown in tandem with the popular resort town Telluride’s economic expansion. Nowadays, Latinos represent more than 20% of the Montrose County population compared to 12% three decades ago. Mesa County has the largest number of Latinos on the Western Slope, about 25,000, which make up 15% of the population. Latinos are mostly clustered in and around Grand Junction, the largest metro hub between Denver and Salt Lake City.

Like most working-class Coloradans, these Latino families typically cannot afford to live in the ritzy communities where they work. Many make long commutes over treacherous mountain roads to get to their workplace. Some juggle multiple jobs and rely on carpooling because they don’t own cars and don’t make enough money to afford their long, potentially dangerous commutes.

While the first-generation immigrants who came to Colorado’s Western Slope in the 1990s-2000s have a limited educational background and speak little English, their second-generation children are trying to realize the American Dream by moving into the middle class. This second generation benefits from a public education, command of the English language and greater knowledge of American society than their parents.

The U.S.-born descendants of Latino immigrants represent a tip-of-the-iceberg phenomenon. They currently make a large component of the school-age population in these counties. In another decade or two, they will join the labor force, pay taxes, vote and likely transform the demographics, culture and political status quo of these mountain communities.

Challenges facing Latino Coloradans

Latino Coloradans’ story is fraught with challenges, too.

First-generation Latino laborers often endure long work hours for low pay, a high cost of living, occupational hazards and the stigma of racial discrimination. Moreover, shifting political winds represent a significant challenge for Latinos concerned about changes in U.S. immigration policies.

President Donald Trump’s recent immigration dragnet has reached the Western Slope, where Latino individuals have been routinely arrested and Latino families fear deportation. Many Latino families in Colorado are mixed-status families, in which some family members may lack U.S. citizenship or work visas and are subject to deportation. They feel targeted for the color of their skin, their accent or the jobs they do. The immigration operations are having an impact on the economy and social fabric of the communities where Latinos live and work.

Still, Latinos have grown deep roots in Western Slope communities. Grand Junction has a thriving Latino middle class and is home to the Western Colorado Latino Chamber of Commerce. Latinos, such as State Rep. Elizabeth Velasco, are running for office in the region and getting elected. Velasco represents House District 57, which covers Glenwood Springs and Aspen.

Latinos have always been an intrinsic feature of the Western Slope’s socioeconomic landscape, as ubiquitous as the area’s mountains, mesas and canyons. In cities like Grand Junction and Durango, and ski towns like Aspen, Telluride and Vail, they enrich the region’s economy, society and culture.

Read more of our stories about Colorado.

Ernesto Sagás does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

America’s bees and beekeepers are losing a valuable ally just when they need its help most.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture plans to soon close the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center, a 6,500-acre agricultural research station in Maryland that is home to the nation’s premier bee research and disease diagnosis hub, the Beltsville Bee Research Lab.

The closure comes at a critical moment for bees. In winter 2025, many beekeepers lost over half their operations as pesticide-resistant varroa mites spread, bringing deadly viruses. The losses have led to low honey production, and soaring fuel costs have made shipping bees cross-country for agricultural pollination increasingly expensive, further stressing the industry.

During my 14 years researching bees and beekeepers, and in writing my new book, “Bitter Honey: Big Ag’s Threat to Bees and the Fight to Save Them,” I’ve seen beekeepers frequently turn to the USDA bee labs for support during crises like this. Because honey bees contribute roughly US$15 billion to U.S. crop production – native and managed bees pollinate more than 130 crops – these labs help stabilize the nation’s food system.

Today, that scientific support system is at risk, just as beekeepers face their greatest challenges and native bee populations continue to decline.

Why the Beltsville Bee Lab matters

USDA’s bee researchers have served beekeepers for over 130 years, including nearly 90 years at the Beltsville station. One of the Beltsville Bee Lab’s standout services is its bee disease diagnostic service, where beekeepers can send samples for analysis free of charge.

Since the early 2000s, Beltsville researchers have helped beekeepers respond to varroa mites – a primary driver of high colony losses each year. Now, the lab is helping them prepare for a deadlier mite that is infesting honey bees in Asia, Tropilaelaps mercedesae, or “tropi” mites – by developing detection and response protocols that beekeepers can use to protect their colonies.

While the Beltsville Bee Lab supports beekeepers nationwide, it’s located in a prime farming and beekeeping region. Its closure would leave a critical research gap in the Northeast, where beekeepers help pollinate cranberries, squash, blueberries and other crops.

Its location has also allowed researchers to conduct extensive studies on winter colony losses, research that would be difficult to replicate at the remaining USDA bee labs, which are primarily located in more temperate climates.

Hidden costs of bee lab closures

The USDA states that it will decommission the entire Beltsville Agricultural Research Center because building maintenance and renovations would cost an estimated $500 million. But closing the lab could cost beekeepers, farmers and consumers far more.

For example, in winter 2025, beekeepers experienced their highest losses in U.S. history. Many opened their colonies in January that year and found that more than 60% of their colonies had died – nearly 1.7 million colonies nationwide. Beekeepers contacted Beltsville, and researchers quickly flew out to test affected colonies for pesticide residues, diseases and varroa mites, data that could help guide beekeepers’ treatment response.

A few weeks later, as the lab’s scientists were working on the crisis, the Trump administration fired probationary researchers and staff at the bee labs, along with thousands of other employees across the USDA. The Beltsville team was hobbled, and the remaining staff restricted from communicating with beekeepers.

Because of the communication lockdown, it took nearly six months for researchers to deliver their findings. By then, the season was over and beekeepers had been forced to navigate the crisis on their own.

The loss of bee colonies ultimately cost beekeepers an estimated $600 million in lost honey production, pollination income and colony replacement costs – far more than the one-time projected costs to modernize the entire Beltsville Agricultural Research Center.

These losses can hit consumer pocketbooks too.

When beekeepers lose nearly half their operations, they often need to charge farmers more for pollination services to stay afloat. Those added costs can ripple through the food system and affect what everyone pays for the fruits, vegetables and nuts that depend on pollinators.

More cuts planned to US pollinator research

The Beltsville Bee Lab closure is not an isolated case. The administration has proposed eliminating the U.S. Geological Survey’s Ecosystems Mission Area, a move that could defund the USGS Bee Lab, an essential resource for research on native bees.

It also plans to decommission 16 USGS research centers nationwide, including the Northern Prairie Wildlife Research Center in North Dakota, the highest honey-producing state in the nation. For decades, beekeepers have brought colonies to forage on grasslands in the region. Researchers have been tracking how the shift from grasslands to crops has affected honey bee health and beekeeper revenue.

The U.S. Forest Service also faces widespread cuts, including the planned closure of 57 of its 77 research stations throughout the United States. Since the Forest Service manages over 193 million acres of federal lands that support native plants and pollinators, those closures could affect crucial pollinator habitat as well.

These closures risk a severe brain drain.

When the first Trump administration moved the USDA Economic Research Service from Washington to Kansas City, Missouri, in 2019, the agency lost over 75% of its experienced research staff. A recent survey suggests that history may repeat itself. If the reorganization goes through, farmers and beekeepers will lose experts with decades of institutional and technical knowledge.

The Beltsville Bee Lab is a key part of the often-unappreciated federal research infrastructure that supports the health of pollinators and the nation’s food supply.

If the USDA and the USGS move forward with their plans to close bee labs and research sites, the result could be slower responses to bee threats, weaker tracking of native bee populations and diminished pollinator habitat for bees – all of which raise costs and risks for beekeepers, farmers and everyone who depends on the food system.

Jennie L. Durant does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

In 2025, Camden, New Jersey – a city of about 72,000 residents that sits across the Delaware River from Philadelphia – experienced its first homicide-free summer in nearly 50 years.

The city ended the year with 12 homicides – a stark drop from 2012 when it recorded 67, a per capita rate 18 times the national average at the time.

I’m a professor of criminal justice who wrote a book on police reform efforts in Camden over the last 15 years. The stunning turnaround in violent crime has led Camden and its newly formed Camden County Police Department, which was established in 2013 and replaced the Camden City Police Department, to be hailed as a model of reform. In 2015, then-President Obama visited the city to highlight the progress made.

Positive national and international attention on police reform in Camden continued in 2020 following the murder of George Floyd. This attention stemmed from the Minneapolis city council’s unanimous decision to dissolve the Minneapolis Police Department and start anew – much as Camden had done seven years earlier.

Yet one topic that I believe such discussions and commentary often overlook is the role that community and activist groups, as well as local media, played in better policing by the Camden County Police Department.

County takeover of city police department

Under-policing came to define the final years of the Camden City Police Department, or CPD. Police presence in the community was largely absent.

In contrast, the Camden County Police Department, or CCPD, began its new mandate with an aggressive, broken-windows style of policing that included targeting low levels of disorder and quality-of-life offenses, like loitering.

Residents were concerned about this new aggressive stance. The American Civil Liberties Union of New Jersey, researchers and local media used New Jersey’s Open Public Records Act to collect measures of the CCPD’s activity.

This data pointed to a troubling rise in officer-initiated vehicle and pedestrian stops, tickets for low-level violations, use of force, and citizen complaints of excessive force through 2014 and 2015.

CCPD officers in 2014 made 60,352 total stops, including 16,742 of people on foot. The per capita rate of pedestrian stops exceeded the rates in both New York City and Philadelphia during those cities’ peak stop-and-frisk years in 2011 and 2009, respectively, before stop-and-frisk tactics spurred court-ordered reforms.

Beyond the stops, CCPD officers issued more than 6,000 citations from May 1, 2013, when the new department launched, through the end of the year. They issued over 19,000 citations in 2014. During its first year or so, the CCPD’s total number of cases in municipal court increased by nearly 30% relative to the year prior.

Similarly, the number of tickets issued for minor infractions – such as riding a bicycle without a bell or a light, and disorderly conduct – rose steeply. For example, the number of citations for having tinted car windows more than tripled, while citations for not having proper car lights or reflectors more than quadrupled.

Backlash to broken-windows policing

Citizen complaints against CCPD alleging excessive use of force increased from 35 in 2013 to 65 in 2014.

Organizations like the Camden County chapter of the NAACP and the ACLU-NJ drummed up attention to these figures by issuing announcements and press briefings. On the same day in May 2015 that President Obama heralded the CCPD, the ACLU-NJ issued a scathing rebuke to the President’s message. It read, in part: “Before we hold Camden up as a model of community policing, we must address the troubling indicators that point to Camden’s use of practices that appear to take a page from a broken windows approach to policing.”

Mobilized residents and groups, including clergy members, made it clear that they did not appreciate this level and type of aggressive policing. The Philadelphia Inquirer and the Star-Ledger/NJ Advance Media amplified the coverage of Camden’s heavy-handed tactics.

What followed was a complete change in behavior among the CCPD from an activity, training and policy perspective. The numbers and rates of police stops declined. CCPD officers began issuing more warnings compared to tickets, to the point that “warnings over summonses” became an unofficial slogan of the department.

The top brass at CCPD sought out and implemented two types of de-escalation training, starting in the spring of 2015, for all officers. The CCPD also started to explore a complete overhaul of the agency’s use of force policy. It eventually adopted a more restrictive policy that emphasized de-escalation and the sanctity of life, while prohibiting tactics like chokeholds and shooting at moving vehicles. The CCPD’s innovative policy even inspired the New Jersey Attorney General to revamp its statewide policy years later.

As a result, complaints of use of force, in general, and of excessive force dropped from 43 in 2015 to 28 in 2016, and declined to 16 in 2017 and just three in 2018. Such complaints have usually been in the single digits each year since.

The CCPD deserves credit for course-correcting. But I believe it’s important to remember where that impetus came from: community and activist groups, as well as local media attention.

Many fewer murders, but persistent challenges

Camden has undoubtedly made progress. The city’s homicide rate in 2025 was four times the national average – a marked change from 18 times the national average in 2012. Homicides across the country have also declined in recent years.

Yet, problems persist. Camden is still a perennial contender for the most violent city in New Jersey. Despite a $1.6 billion economic package from the state to the city during the 2010s, which overwhelmingly took the form of tax subsidies to encourage businesses to either stay in or relocate to Camden, almost every census tract is among the most socially and economically disadvantaged in the state. Most companies that receive tax breaks do not employ a meaningful number of Camden residents.

The city is racially segregated from the rest of Camden County and the broader South Jersey region.

In my opinion, Camden, like most other cities, relies too much on the police, giving them a monopoly on public safety. I believe both the city and the CCPD should take a cue from places like Newark, New Jersey, and St. Louis, Missouri, to find innovative ways to collaborate and engage more with community groups, business associations and other non-police entities. Together they can co-produce public safety and take a more holistic approach to reducing crime, violence and disorder.

John A. Shjarback does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

Property taxes in Detroit, the highest among major U.S. cities, continue to burden the city’s low-income households. Failure to pay these taxes can lead to foreclosure.

Mayor Mary Sheffield advocated for property tax relief during her first State of the City address in March 2026. Sheffield proposed a 30% to 60% cut in property taxes in the city, a change Michigan lawmakers would need to approve.

The City of Detroit will likely take in approximately US$164 million from property taxes in the 2026 fiscal year, less than a tax collected from the city’s casinos. Property taxes fund public safety, libraries, sanitation and other city services.

Amanda Nothaft, the director of data and analysis at Poverty Solutions at the University of Michigan, explains the extent of Detroit’s property tax burden and avenues for reform.

What do you think about the mayor’s approach to this longstanding issue?

Mayor Sheffield’s property tax proposal is a bold effort to bring in new residents, make homeownership more affordable and fight poverty. Tax savings can help Detroit residents pay for their basic needs.

Detroit’s existing high property taxes may deter people from moving to the city and limit residents’ ability to get jobs and start businesses.

Finding a permanent funding source to replace the revenue lost from lowering property taxes is the biggest challenge to the mayor’s proposal. In the long term, Sheffield believes population and economic growth in Detroit will offset the costs, but her administration will need to find other sources of revenue in the short term. Adopting new taxes will require working with state leadership to pass new legislation. Proposals include an entertainment tax on sports and concert tickets.

How much are Detroiters paying in property taxes now? Is it high compared to similar cities?

Detroiters paid the highest effective property tax rate among major cities in the United States at 3.02% in 2024, according to a study from the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

An effective property tax rate is the actual percentage of a property’s total market value that is paid in property taxes. The high effective rate in Detroit is driven by both high tax rates and low home values.

Detroit’s tax rate is significantly higher than that of other Midwestern cities. Milwaukee’s effective tax rate is 1.78%. In Indianapolis, it’s 1.20%, and in Chicago, it’s 1.50%.

With a shrinking tax base, Detroit faces financial pressures to generate revenue to fix aging infrastructure and fund city services. These factors have encouraged local taxing authorities to set a high millage rate, 48% above the median rate for other Michigan cities. A millage rate is the tax a homeowner pays per $1,000 of the value of their property.

What factors fuel the costly bills?

Detroit has experienced decades of erosion to the tax base due to long-term population loss that has driven down property values, coupled with fixed costs to maintain existing infrastructure.

These constraints, along with the need to fund services to support a low-income population and the lack of authority to generate revenue from other taxes, all contribute to high property taxes. All Michigan cities face this challenge, as state law requires legislative approval to levy local taxes. This power is granted more freely in other states, such as Illinois and Ohio.

How do high property taxes affect a resident’s ability to buy a home in the city?

High property taxes make it harder to afford a home. Let’s look at how property taxes are calculated and what they add to a mortgage payment.

The online real estate platform Redfin reports that the median home price in Detroit was $104,000 in March 2026. A purchaser putting 20% down and taking out a 30-year mortgage at a 6.6% interest rate would have a monthly mortgage loan payment of around $531. Property taxes are an additional cost.

In Michigan, homeowners pay property taxes on 50% of the property’s assessed value. Assessments are based on market value and determined by city officials for each property every two years.

Applying the 2024 Detroit’s homestead millage rate of 67.9464 to 50% of the value of a median-priced home, or $52,000, results in a property tax bill of nearly $3,533 a year, or $294 a month, adding an additional 50% to base monthly housing costs. For a Detroit household making the city’s annual median income of $39,938, $825 per month on mortgage and taxes would consume 25% of their income.

In addition to mortgage and property taxes, homeowners also need to pay for homeowners insurance and water at rates that exceed national norms. And then there are bills for electricity, gas and internet service to pay.

Compared to a suburban home at the same price point, a Detroit home comes with a higher tax burden – possibly even 70% more than a city like Sterling Heights or Livonia – fewer community services such as recreation centers and poorer performing schools. This could make buying in Detroit seem like a bad financial decision.

Businesses face even higher property tax rates – 82.18 mills in 2025 – which is 34% higher than the statewide median of 61.20 mills. The higher tax rate, combined with complicated regulations and high fees for licenses and permits, makes it hard for anyone to open and maintain a small business in Detroit.

What is the best way to reform property taxes?

Research finds that high property taxes disproportionately hurt low-income households. This highlights the importance of property tax reform in Detroit.

However, research also shows that cutting property taxes can have negative consequences if the cuts result in fewer government services.

Because of these potential negative impacts, how taxes are cut matters if the goal is to improve affordability. Simply replacing property taxes with sales taxes affects low-income residents more, hurts renters and makes the tax base more volatile since revenues are directly impacted by economic cycles. In a recession, sales taxes fall because people spend less. Property taxes remain constant.

What laws are already in effect to protect homeowners?

Proposal A and the Headlee Amendment are the current strategies used to control property taxes in Michigan. Proposal A went into effect in 1994 and the Headlee Amendment was adopted in 1978.

Proposal A is a statewide law that limits the increases in taxable value of a property to the rate of inflation or 5%, whichever is lower.

The Headlee Amendment restricts property tax revenue growth at the city, township or county level to the rate of inflation.

Both laws benefit existing homeowners but do not improve affordability for new home buyers.

Circuit breaker tax credits, which tie property taxes to people’s ability to pay, can be a successful and equitable way to make buying a home more affordable.

Circuit breakers are the basis of programs like the Homestead Property Tax Credit in Michigan, which passed in 1973, and are used throughout the country to help low-income, elderly and disabled homeowners.

By keeping property taxes in check, these credits reduce tax burdens for low-income homeowners and protect owners in rapidly gentrifying areas. They can prevent property tax increases that can economically destabilize a household and lead to foreclosure.

If Detroit were to expand circuit breakers by raising the income eligibility requirements, it could help more Detroiters stay in the city and also attract new residents.

Amanda Nothaft does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

Cuba has run out of oil, the country’s energy minister announced on May 14, 2026.

It marks a new depth to the island’s energy crisis, which has gotten worse in recent months amid the tightening of U.S. sanctions imposed in January 2026.

U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced on May 13 that the U.S. continues to be ready to offer humanitarian assistance of up to US$100 million – but only if Cuba reforms its communist government. The State Department did not provide many specifics, but according to Archbishop Thomas Wenski of Miami, who is involved in the discussions on behalf of the Catholic Church in its role as distribution partner of U.S. aid, a regime change would be necessary.

But at current prices, this aid would buy only about 20 days’ worth of oil for the island nation, covering a mere 5% of Cuba’s annual oil import.

As an economist specializing in Latin America and a master’s candidate in public policy, we believe that the broader history of Cuba’s energy sector sheds some light on the current situation.

Dependence on foreign oil

For most of Cuba’s history, its energy capabilities lacked a stable infrastructure. This was primarily due to its dependence on foreign countries for the supply of oil necessary to produce electricity.

According to the official history of the state-run energy company, Union Eléctrica, until 1956 only about 56% of the country’s population had access to electricity. By 1992, that number had grown to 95%, largely due to fuel supplies and technological aid sourced from the former Soviet Union.

However, beginning in 1989, the weakening and eventual fall of the Soviet Union marked a return to energy insecurity, and electricity produced in Cuba fell by 25% by 1994.

In 1998, Hugo Chavez was elected president of Venezuela. Within a year, he had negotiated a deal with Cuban President Fidel Castro that made Venezuela the main provider of Cuban oil. This was a lifeline for Cuba.

Venezuela was the largest exporter of petroleum and oil to Cuba through 2021. And though there is no data past 2021, we know that Venezuela continued to be a major oil supplier to Cuba until Jan. 3, 2026, when U.S. forces captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro in Caracas.

Finding a long-term solution

The current U.S. embargo on Cuba now puts the nation in a situation similar to the one it faced when the USSR fell. Memories of 1989 linger in the minds of many Cubans. The cause may be different, but the blackouts Cuba is now experiencing are not new.

As oil limitations persist, Cuba is increasingly looking to alternative sources of energy, and it has found one solution in solar power. Historical experience with energy insecurity and the recent blackouts have helped spur the transition.

Still, the nation relies heavily on oil for most of its energy production. According to data from the International Energy Agency, oil accounts for 83% of Cuba’s energy production, while solar accounts for just 0.84%.

And a transition to solar energy does not necessarily equate to energy independence. Indeed, part of Cuba’s transition to solar energy has already been expedited by assistance from foreign nations, including China and Brazil. China’s contributions through its Belt and Road Initiative, as well as Brazil’s assistance, indicate that Cuba’s reliance on foreign powers for energy will likely continue.

But at this point, one thing is clear: There is no short-term, immediate solution to satisfying the oil energy requirements of Cuba’s electrical grid. There is a clear need for a long-term solution to a long-term problem.

Whatever Cuba chooses to do about its energy crisis, it will also remain dependent on foreign nations. The questions are, which nations and how dependent?

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

At Marine Corps Base Quantico in September 2025, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth promised assembled generals “maximum lethality” and no “stupid rules of engagement.” Under his leadership, the newly rebranded Department of War would “untie the hands of our warfighters to intimidate, demoralize, hunt, and kill.” Troops would be held to the “highest male standard,” he said. “Weak men won’t qualify.”

Hegseth also restricted anonymous whistleblower and discrimination complaints and limited how long past misconduct can be held against a service member, weakening internal rules and oversight processes the military had built over decades.

Months later, with the Iran war underway, he told reporters at a Pentagon briefing that the U.S. was “punching (Iran) while they’re down, which is exactly how it should be.” He has also said the U.S. will give “no quarter, no mercy” to its enemies, language legal experts say can constitute a war crime under international law.

Hegseth calls his military doctrine the “warrior ethos.”

Historians of fascism have catalogued similar rhetorical patterns — strongman posturing, contempt for constraint — for decades.

I’m a historian of race and nationalism and author of “Blood, Oil and the Axis,” a book about World War II and nationalism in Iraq and Syria. I’ve studied how fascist regimes fight. At its core, fascism is ultranationalism fused with a cult of masculine strength, racial hierarchy, paranoia about socialism and contempt for democracy. It also has a theory of war: Victory belongs to the ruthless and the ideologically pure. Rules are for the weak.

Nazi Germany, fascist Italy and Imperial Japan all built their military strategies on some version of this ideology in the run-up to the Second World War. And in each case, the strategy failed, undone by its own contradictions.

The fascist theory of war

Democracies don’t necessarily fight clean wars. During World War II, the Allies firebombed cities, created internment camps and dropped atomic bombs.

What distinguishes fascist powers from democracies is their contempt for rules based on their sense of superiority. In 1933, Adolf Hitler’s propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels announced that the Nazis would claim the absolute right to override democratic constraints. “This contemptible parliamentarianism … is gone,” he said.

Italian dictator Benito Mussolini said it more bluntly in 1936: “We do not argue with those who disagree with us, we destroy them.”

But rules of engagement function as a control system that ties tactical decisions to strategy, law and the risk of escalation. Discarding them tends to produce the atrocities and strategic blowback that lose wars.

Democratic procedure does similar work: Political scientists who studied 197 conflicts from 1816 to 1987 found that democracies won about 76% of their conflicts and non-democracies 46%, in large part because accountable leaders and public access to information force a government to notice when a plan isn’t working.

A fascist regime that treats democratic constraints as obstacles is likely to decide inconvenient information is an obstacle too. Because of this, in fascist governments, loyalists rank higher than experts. Fascist systems don’t remove people for being wrong; they remove them for insufficient loyalty. The man who tells the leader what he wants to hear rises. The man whose report contradicts the leader’s views endangers himself.

The closed circuit

Consider Joachim von Ribbentrop.

Before becoming Hitler’s foreign minister, he was a wine salesman whose years in Canada became his qualification for understanding America. He attached himself to Hitler and was rewarded with a top seat in his government, where Ribbentrop’s signature contribution was overruling the diplomats who warned that Americans would fight if pushed too far by the Axis.

The Nazi view prevailed: Americans were too racially mixed, too soft, too consumed by money to be dangerous. When Germany declared war on the U.S. four days after Pearl Harbor, it did so partly on that disdain for what Hitler called a “mongrel nation.” Ribbentrop was among the most consequentially wrong foreign ministers in modern history – he’d also misjudged Britain’s willingness to join the war over the invasion of Poland – still, he kept his job.

The ideology that produced Ribbentrop’s overconfidence also produced the Nazi theory of the Eastern Front: that Slavic peoples – fundamentally inferior and tainted by Bolshevism – would collapse within weeks. But the Red Army didn’t collapse. Hitler fired the officers who reported as much and demanded more of the same operations that had already failed. Operation Barbarossa, which was supposed to take weeks, stretched to years.

Attempting to match Hitler’s conquests and assert dominance over the Mediterranean, Mussolini invaded Greece in October 1940 with shorthanded divisions, in mountain terrain and at the start of winter, because he believed Italian spirit would overwhelm Greek resistance in two weeks. His generals had doubts, but many did not express them. The Greeks counterattacked, but Mussolini blamed his generals’ “insufficient will,” the only kind of failure his theory allowed. Germany had to intervene.

What the leader said happened

Connected to the fascist superiority complex is a contempt for feedback, creating a closed information system that can’t register failure, tolerate disagreement or revise a plan. Strategy requires accurate reporting, even when the news is bad, and the willingness to be wrong. Fascist regimes punish the first and refuse the second.

German high command was still reporting a controlled advance in November 1942 when its 6th Army, some 330,000 soldiers, was being encircled at Stalingrad. Hitler had declared the city practically taken; the press never reported the Soviet counteroffensive that surrounded it. When the remnants finally surrendered on Feb. 2, 1943, it was a turning point in the war – Germany’s first catastrophic defeat on the Eastern Front, from which the Wehrmacht never recovered.

Mussolini bragged about his mighty army of 8 million soldiers while 3.5 million – the real number – were being routed on three fronts in as many years.

Imperial Japan fused racial supremacy with a military code that forbade surrender and treated anyone who did as subhuman. Loyalty to the emperor was absolute; questioning his depiction of reality was betrayal.

In that environment, officers had every incentive to lie up the chain of command when reality on the ground did not match what leaders wanted to hear. For example, after the Battle of Midway, a catastrophic defeat for Japan in June 1942, naval headquarters filed reports that bore little resemblance to what happened. Later that year, the Imperial Navy told Tokyo they had sunk twelve American ships near today’s Taiwan when they had merely damaged two.

Two years of retreat later, the kamikaze program – which sent some 3,900 pilots to their deaths in suicidal crashes against Allied ships – was the logical conclusion: Let pilots prove their loyalty by dying.

John Broich does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

The creation of an “Anti-Weaponization Fund” at the Department of Justice may have shocked a lot of people, but not Paul Figley, a legal scholar and former DOJ staffer who has spent years warning that taxpayer money could be used by an administration for political ends in just this way.

The fund, the result of a settlement of legal claims by Donald Trump and his family against the IRS, aims to compensate those who “suffered weaponization and lawfare” at the hands of the federal government. It has already been called a “slush fund” by the New York Times editorial board, which noted – as many have – that it’s likely to pay much of its US$1.8 billion funding to Trump allies who rioted at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.

The money comes from what’s called the Judgment Fund, set up in the Department of Treasury by Congress in the 1950s to pay legal judgments and settlements involving the federal government. In doing so, Congress gave away a portion of its foundational, constitutional role: The power to control government spending. Figley, who worked at the Department of Justice and is also an emeritus professor of legal rhetoric at American University Washington College of Law, has warned Congress and others that by putting decisions about such huge payouts in the hands of the executive branch, the fund would inevitably be hijacked for political purposes. Naomi Schalit, The Conversation’s politics and legal affairs editor, spoke with Figley.

What is the Judgment Fund, and why was it created?

The Judgment Fund is a permanent, indefinite appropriation that Congress established to pay most judgments and settlements against the federal government. Prior to 1956, whenever a judgment or settlement was agreed upon or finalized, Congress would have to appropriate money to pay it. That meant the administration and Congress would have to go through kind of a karaoke: “Here’s a new settlement, here’s why it should be approved.” “OK, we approve it.” And it took up a lot of time and didn’t produce much good effect.

So the old General Accounting Office recommended that Congress set up a system that would pay some claims automatically, and in 1956, Congress established the Judgment Fund. It allows payment of settlements and judgments if those payments were final and not authorized or provided for by some other legally available appropriation.

Congress essentially handed over responsibility for paying for settlements and judgments, which was taking up a lot of time, to the executive branch?

Yes, the Department of Justice would do the paperwork and say this is final, or this is an appropriate settlement, send that to Treasury, Treasury then certifies that it was properly documented, and then orders the payment.

From the constitutional perspective, it appears that Congress was getting rid of an annoying thing that it had to do, but wasn’t it also giving away its power of the purse?

Yes, but only in a limited way to begin with. When the Judgment Fund was first established, any settlement or judgment that could go through the process had to be less than US$100,000. That worked so well that Congress increased the amount a couple of times, and then ultimately in 1977 said there’s no cap. It’s a permanent indefinite appropriation, and once it was established, nobody ever has to go back to Congress to ask that it be updated or refilled. It works automatically.

You’ve written and given testimony about concerns you have with the Judgment Fund, over quite a few years and spanning several administrations. What are those concerns?

The concern is that under our system, Congress should be responsible for – and is responsible for – appropriating money.

Are you worried that this fund can be abused?

It has been. For many, many years, it wasn’t abused very often. Occasionally, it was used for political purposes in the foreign policy context. President George H. W. Bush used it in 1991 to settle a claim with Iran for arms that had not been delivered. The Clinton administration used it to settle a similar claim with Pakistan in 1998. The Obama administration secretly paid Iran $1.7 billion for arms that the U.S. had not delivered, and $1.3 billion of that came from the Judgment Fund. Those all had a political context, and while they were arguably good decisions, they were decisions that, absent the Judgment Fund, would have had to go through Congress and have money appropriated after, perhaps, debate and discussion.

The Obama administration also went much further in litigation involving claims of civil rights violations by the Department of Agriculture.

The Obama administration’s use of the Judgment Fund in class action suits for discrimination in Department of Agriculture civil loan programs struck me as really bad policy. After class action suits by Hispanic and female farmers had largely failed, the Obama administration announced that it had created a new program, the Hispanic or women farmers and ranchers claims process. This new program was funded with $1.3 billion from the Judgment Fund and open to people who had not been involved in the litigation. It was unilaterally created without congressional input or an appropriation. It wasn’t illegal, but it was using the Judgment Fund in a way that Congress had certainly never anticipated.

When that happened, my antenna went up, because for many years I was at the Department of Justice defending cases involving the Judgment Fund in cases alleging wrongful acts or omissions by federal employees. I defended suits brought against the government for auto accidents, medical malpractice, flood cases, wild animals, a wide range of things. Seeing the potential for abuse, I started suggesting that Congress amend the Judgment Fund to cap any settlement at $500 million. Above that cap, you’d have to go to Congress.

That hasn’t happened.

What did you think when you first heard about the establishment of this $1.776 billion pot, using the Judgment Fund, to compensate the so-called victims of lawfare?

I was surprised. I always expected someone would do this kind of a thing again, but I had not foreseen this one coming. And then I thought I was right: We should have amended the Judgment Fund.

The Obama administration had manipulated the fund to create the Women and Hispanic Farmers and Ranchers Claims Process without congressional input or approval. Having seen that blueprint, the Trump administration has similarly manipulated the fund to create the Anti-Weaponization Fund without congressional input or approval.

In each case, the administration believes that the people that are being compensated are worthy and should get compensation, even though they would have a lot more difficulty getting it without the creation of such a thing.

Now that it’s been used twice, unless Congress steps in, I have no doubt this scheme will be used again by another administration. It’s bad government; it’s not how our system was set up. Congress has the power of the purse. Congress, rather than the executive, has the authority to create and fund programs. The executive branch should not have it own source of funds. The Judgment Fund should not be used as an executive branch piggy bank.

Has it occurred to you to say I told you so?

Yes. I called my daughter – she appreciates certain gallows humor – and I told her that just what I’d predicted had happened. She said, “Well, aren’t you happy about that?” and I said, “Well, I’m not happy that it happened, but I’m happy that I saw it and have been out preaching about it – with remarkable lack of success.”

Paul Figley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

Thomas Hobbes took a very dim view of rebels and insurrectionists. He believed that insurrectionists relinquish their status as citizens the moment they seek to overthrow the government and should never be rewarded for doing so.

Hobbes, one of the finest political theorists of his time, said this in his great political treatise, “Leviathan,” published in 1651 during a civil war in England and Scotland.

Hobbes would likely also take a dim view of a major development announced by the Trump administration on May 20, 2026.

The U.S. Department of Justice has established a US$1.776 billion “Anti-Weaponization Fund,” to be used, the AP reports, to “allow people who believe they were targeted for prosecution for political purposes, including by the Biden administration Justice Department, to apply for payouts.”

The fund, Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche said, offers “a lawful process for victims of lawfare and weaponization to be heard and seek redress.”

Critics immediately charged that it might be used to compensate people involved in – some even convicted for – the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol. Blanche has not ruled out that possibility.

The establishment of the fund is part of a settlement agreement, in response to which President Donald Trump dropped his $10 billion lawsuit against the Internal Revenue Service for damages stemming from the leak of his tax returns. Those leaks, the lawsuit alleged, “caused Plaintiffs reputational and financial harm, public embarrassment, unfairly tarnished their business reputations, portrayed them in a false light, and negatively affected President Trump.”

A DOJ press release indicates the fund will provide “formal apologies and monetary relief” to those who file claims and will cease processing claims “no later than” Dec. 1, 2028. It will be run by a five-person board appointed by the attorney general, and the president will also have the power to remove board members.

Whether or not Jan. 6 participants benefit, some believe that this situation creates an unavoidable appearance of self-dealing and favoritism. As a student of American law and political morality, I think there are important moral and constitutional issues implicated by the president’s suit against the IRS and the creation of the Anti-Weaponization Fund.

Some of them are straightforward; others are less so.

A judge in their own cause

An obvious question is: Should taxpayer funds be given to Trump allies, in a settlement reached by the Trump-controlled DOJ as compensation for a Trump family lawsuit?

As far back as ancient Greece, philosophers like Aristotle have worried about what happens when people are called on to make judgments in cases where they are involved. Aristotle thought that the natural instinct for self-preservation meant that they would always favor themselves.

From that concern emerged what was then, and remains, an uncontroversial, bedrock moral principle.

In the Roman world, the Latin phrase “Nemo iudex in causa sua” meant “no one should be a judge in their own cause.” It recognized that anyone having a personal interest should not get to decide matters in which they are involved.

In the Englsh-speaking world, Hobbes himself reiterated that phrase as he explained some of the advantages of living in an organized society, which could supply impartial judges to resolve disputes. And in 1787, James Madison wrote, “No man is allowed to be a judge in his own cause, because his interest would certainly bias his judgment, and, not improbably, corrupt his integrity.”

Commentators reacting to the Justice Department’s decision to establish an Anti-Weaponization Fund to settle the president’s claims against the IRS have drawn on these longstanding principles to criticize it, including how the DOJ, which is part of the executive branch controlled by Trump, negotiated with him to reach this settlement.

The conservative lawyer and activist Ed Whelan said, “There is a glaring conflict of interest with Trump being on both sides of the claim.” Whelan added, “It is outrageous that he and those answering to him would be deciding how the government responds to these extravagant claims.”

In testimony on May 19, 2026, before the Senate Appropriations Committee, Blanche offered a different view. He said the settlement fund was not unprecedented and likened it to a different fund, established by the Obama administration, to settle discrimination claims brought by Native American and Black farmers.

“It’s not limited to Republicans. It’s not limited to Democrats,” Blanche added. “It’s not limited to January 6th defendants. It’s limited only by the term weaponization.” Blanche promised that payments from the fund will be publicly disclosed.

Negotiating with himself

In April, Kathleen Williams, the Florida federal judge who was presiding over Trump’s lawsuit, reframed the moral issue of self-dealing as a legal one. She questioned whether the case could go on, noting “President Trump’s own remarks about this matter acknowledge the unique dynamic of this litigation.”

The remarks she referenced occurred when the president talked about the lawsuit and the prospect of negotiating with himself. “And they do say that, you know, it’s never been a case like this. Donald Trump sues the United States of America. Donald Trump becomes president, and now Donald Trump has to settle the suit.”

Williams, the judge, wrote that “it is unclear to this Court whether the Parties are sufficiently adverse to each other so as to satisfy Article III’s case or controversy requirement.” That requirement means that a court can only rule when there is a real dispute before it.

That rule is designed to prevent so-called collusive lawsuits, in which “the parties are not actually in disagreement but are cooperating” to achieve a result. Judge Williams was scheduled to hear arguments on that question on May 20, 2026. But the settlement announcement was made two days before, and, in light of it, she dismissed the case.

Back to Hobbes

Beyond the case and controversy question, the Justice Department’s actions may implicate constitutional issues.

One is whether, under the constitutional separation of powers, the executive branch has the authority to create a victim compensation fund, or whether that authority rests with Congress.

Another is whether the fund violates the Constitution’s Emoluments Clause, which prohibits the president from receiving any “Emolument from the United States” other than his salary.

While the new fund may not make direct payments to Trump, he may benefit from payments to family members, business associates and others who will claim to have been victimized by the Biden administration, including people prosecuted and convicted of crimes committed on Jan. 6.

Democratic Congressman Jamie Raskin, a former professor of constitutional law, also contends that what the Justice Department has done violates Section 4 of the 14th Amendment, part of which states: “neither the United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States.”

Referring to the president, Raskin argues hypothetically, “So, to the extent that he wants to give a million dollars to each of 1,600 pardoned rioters and insurrectionists, we think that that’s an unconstitutional use of money.”

That section of the 14th Amendment was designed to ensure that Confederate rebels would not receive compensation for the value of their emancipated slaves. However, in Perry v. United States, a 1935 case, the Supreme Court stated that Section 4’s “language indicates a broader connotation” beyond its Civil War context.

It seems clear that courts will soon be asked to decide whether Raskin and other legal critics are right in their assertions of a host of legal problems with the Anti-Weaponization Fund. How they will do so remains to be seen.

But, in a democracy, deciding whether the creation of the fund violates the moral maxim that no one can be a judge in his or her own cause ultimately will be up to the people.

Austin Sarat does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation