There’s a persistent skepticism surrounding the use of “national security” as a blanket justification for a variety of repressive measures. These can range from government secrecy and trade barriers to military drafts, censorship, and even the peculiar notion of taking over Greenland. It’s not to say that national security isn’t a legitimate concern—after all, I wouldn’t advocate for the release of nuclear weapon secrets—rather, it’s the frequency with which this concept is invoked that raises eyebrows. Often, it seems to serve as a convenient cloak for more dubious objectives like mercantilism and authoritarianism.
A clear indicator of the overuse of national security as a rationale for secrecy is the cavalier attitude displayed by top officials themselves. While Edward Snowden remains in exile for shedding light on US government malfeasance, prominent figures from both political parties routinely violate national security laws without facing any legal ramifications. Many are familiar with the controversies surrounding Clinton’s emails and the mountain of documents found in Trump’s bathroom, but numerous other examples exist, including past missteps by Pete Hegseth.
Consider the recent leaks from Signal that were handed to Jeffrey Goldberg at The Atlantic. I’d wager that none of those responsible for disclosing sensitive military information will face jail time—they simply aren’t “little people.”
Much like the events surrounding Watergate, the fallout from the cover-up often overshadows the original offense. Initially, the administration denied that the leaks included any classified information, such as war plans or specifics about weapon systems. Then, in a bold move, The Atlantic decided that if the government didn’t consider the information classified, there was no reason not to publish the entire Signal chat. It turned out that senior government officials had been misleading both the press and Congress.
In my youth, a scandal like Signalgate would have prompted resignations from government officials. Back then, it was unfathomable for an obviously unqualified cable news reporter to ascend to the position of Secretary of Defense, let alone receive Senate confirmation. That era seems to have vanished. (Interestingly, Pete Hegseth once suggested prosecuting Hillary Clinton for a far less significant security breach.)
Now, it seems a different set of rules applies to the powerful and well-connected. Everyday individuals may face incarceration for minor infractions related to prostitution laws, while the elite can purchase sexual favors with lavish gifts. Similarly, blue-collar individuals may end up behind bars for drug-related offenses, whereas the affluent often find refuge in rehabilitation facilities.
PS. Those of a certain age may remember Leona Helmsley’s infamous remark:
We don’t pay taxes; only the little people pay taxes.
While it’s true that the wealthy contribute significant amounts in taxes, the disparities become glaringly obvious within the criminal justice system, where they enjoy a considerable advantage.
PPS. A notable case unfolded right here in Orange County, where a 71-year-old judge fatally shot his wife after an argument. He admitted to the act and even expressed a readiness to face a jury, yet the jury still couldn’t reach a verdict. Here’s the OC Register:
A year and a half after Superior Court Judge Jeffrey Ferguson declared, “I killed her. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, convict my ass. I did it,” the jury tasked with determining his fate announced they were deadlocked after spending nine days deliberating, longer than the trial itself.
Now, imagine a similar scenario involving a less affluent individual. The response might be, “It’s complicated.” But has there ever been a crime of passion that wasn’t? Even in cases involving Black defendants, wealth can create a shield, as evidenced by the O.J. Simpson trial.
