The Vanishing Gentleman: Reflections on a Crisis of Governance
A public service announcement
People are talking. I am getting emails from some compelled to mention the current circumstance here in the USA unsure what needs to happen. One correspondent sent me a link to the above song today. You might give it a listen. I wrote back mentioning my own concerns and the following is an expanded version of what I said.
The Vanishing Gentlemen: Reflections on a Crisis of Governance
I don't know what we are going to do about this crisis of epic proportions we are currently faced with. It seems as though we are watching the slow implosion of the civic order, and no one with the power to stop it is doing so. The structures that were once held together by custom, by principle, by a shared belief in the rules of engagement—those are unraveling. And what’s replacing them is something darker.
For much of American history, elected officials operated under an unwritten set of norms—call them “gentleman’s agreements” if you like. These informal understandings allowed the machinery of government to keep functioning even when the gears ground against one another. People disagreed, often ferociously, but there were lines that weren’t crossed. A shared belief in the legitimacy of the system kept things intact. What made that possible? Good faith. A belief that even your opponents were, at some level, committed to something beyond personal gain and a shared love of country and service toward its people.
That’s what seems to be slipping away.
What’s left in the vacuum is thuggery—raw, belligerent, unrepentant power for its own sake. I’ve called them the Rethuglicans for years, and it no longer feels like hyperbole. What once passed as political conservatism has been hijacked by an openly hostile, authoritarian movement masquerading as patriotism. It demands loyalty, not governance; vengeance, not justice; spectacle, not service.
We are not witnessing a policy debate—we’re witnessing a slow-motion coup, a corruption of law, and a sabotage of accountability. Those in power, who are meant to be the custodians of democratic institutions - our institutions - seem to be either complicit in this project or paralyzed in response to it. The rest of us are left to watch, to worry, to wonder: When will someone act? Who will put the brakes on this descent?
It is no longer just a question of left versus right, Democrat versus Republican. This is about something more elemental: the difference between civilization and cruelty. We are on the edge of something violent—not just in a physical sense, though that is possible—but in the tearing apart of trust, of legitimacy, of the social contract itself.
We must be vigilant. We must be clear-eyed. This is no time for naïveté or polite delusions. The good faith has been drained from the room, and what remains is a contest between those who wish to govern and those who wish to dominate. The future will be shaped by how we respond—not as partisans, but as citizens who still believe in a country of laws, of shared responsibility, of basic human decency.
This is not the time to look away.
Eyes open. Powder dry.*
The phrase "keep your powder dry" is an idiom that means to be prepared to take action, to be cautious and alert, and to wait for the right moment before acting. It suggests not rushing into a situation, but remaining ready to respond when necessary.
Keep on sharing your thoughts.
Bob
Cecil,
These are all great points and need to be hammered home again and again. I would urge you to send this to newspapers, either as a reader letter or an editorial.