Norm Eisen recently published the fourth edition of his list of the Trump administration’s 10 worst corruption scandals. That there are four editions tells us something not only about President Donald Trump, but about the increasingly elaborate enterprise devoted to pursuing him.
Eisen is no ordinary critic. After nearly two decades in private practice, he became President Barack Obama’s special counsel for ethics and government reform — the White House “ethics czar” — and later an ambassador. He subsequently served as special counsel to the House Judiciary Committee during Trump’s first impeachment. Today, he is a leading anti-Trump litigator, co-founder of Democracy Defenders Fund and publisher of the Substack publication The Contrarian. Government ethics has become a large part of his life’s work, which makes his own approach to it particularly worthy of examination.
Let’s be clear. There is plenty about Trump to investigate. His business interests, cryptocurrency ventures, family investments and disregard for traditional boundaries between public office and private benefit raise legitimate and disturbing questions. Eisen may be right about many of them, and this is not an effort to exonerate Trump. It is, instead, an argument that standards of ethics and accountability cannot depend upon whose conduct is being examined.
Eisen’s enterprise presents an intriguing case study. The Contrarian reports alleged Trump corruption. Eisen and Democracy Defenders Fund litigate against it. The publication reports on their litigation. Eisen then reminds readers that subscriptions help finance those efforts.
In fact, The Contrarian makes the connection explicit. In a recent subscription solicitation, it proudly quoted The New York Times describing Eisen as a “sort of attorney general for the anti-Trump resistance.” It then told readers that “YOUR subscriptions” fuel that resistance and offered a discounted $49 subscription to “fuel the resistance to tyranny.” Paid subscriptions, it explained, finance both independent journalism and “hundreds of court cases and legal matters” challenging Trump policies.
There is nothing inherently improper about that. Advocacy journalism and public-interest litigation have honorable histories. But this is more than journalism reporting upon advocacy. The journalism helps finance litigation; the litigation produces material for the journalism to report; and both encourage supporters to contribute.
Nor is this a shoestring enterprise. Democracy Defenders Fund reported nearly $14.5 million in revenue in its most recent available tax filing, almost all from contributions. There is no evidence Eisen personally pockets those millions, and suggesting otherwise would commit precisely the error we question: converting suspicion into fact. But it establishes an incentive structure. And examining incentive structures is precisely Eisen’s business.
Eisen’s corruption lists feature “The Brothers Grift,” “The Crypto Cash Con” and “Trump’s DC Renovation Racket.” Some allegations are well documented; others depend more heavily on inference, motive or contested legal theories. Yet the verdict often precedes the evidence. The ethical obligation to distinguish suspicion from proof should apply as rigorously to those making accusations as to those answering them.
Donald Trump deserves aggressive scrutiny. So do those who scrutinize him.
Eisen has taught us that financial and institutional interests matter because they can influence judgment. He is right. But that principle does not disappear when the watchdog believes he is on the side of the angels.
If incentives matter, they matter on both sides. And those demanding everyone else’s receipts should expect someone to examine theirs.
