Clarence Thomas and a Republic Without Shame | Opinion

Shame has a long and glorious (inglorious) history in the annals of democracy. In feeling shame—or at least acknowledging the shame others feel on their behalf—many, if not most politicians have departed the scene without the need of recall elections or gunpoint encouragement.

One politician's "wide stance" led to his resignation. Others have used their power, influence, or just plain cash to have sex with people they shouldn't—prostitutes, underage congressional pages, staff members, the wives of staff members. Others committed fraud or other financial crimes, including bilking the House post office for cash. Illness has forced resignations, as has advanced age.

Ah, the good old days!

Republics are like Tinkerbell from Peter Pan: If you don't believe in them, they cease to exist. Faith is central to everything that makes a republic run. Faith that the person who got the most votes will be the one to take office. Faith that, once in office, your elected representative will at least try to do some of what they said they would do. Faith that if they do something truly wrong, they will face judgement and—hopefully—consequences.

Of course, our public officials, whether elected or not, don't like to be punished. In fact, they've made it as difficult as possible to do so. Recall elections require thousands (at least) of signatures and have other requirements. Ethics committees at the state and federal levels are a joke—members being asked to judge their own when they know they may be next up on the block.

Criminal investigations can take years and years and lead nowhere.

Impeachment and conviction? Pure politics gets in the way. On the federal level, unless there are massive majorities of people on the side of the prosecution, or the crime touches a particular chord so that politicians are willing to cross the aisle, forget about it.

What does that leave us? Sheer embarrassment and the urge to cover one's head and vomit in shame.

Whatever happened to that?

The list of politicians who have resigned from their jobs over the centuries is long, but let's focus only on modern times. Before we get to the Big Kahuna himself, we have Spiro Agnew, President Richard Nixon's vice president and a former governor of Maryland. Financial improprieties brought him down. He resigned.

Nixon, himself, is the most famous American resignation. In 1973, as Watergate was lapping at his feet, the man who had claimed he was not a crook resigned, citing the good of the country. Yep, it took a while, but in the end, Nixon didn't need to face the uncertain prospect of impeachment in order to leave office.

There could probably be a column on state governors alone, but let's just mention Eliot Spitzer of New York, or as he became better known, Client No. 9. He didn't even make it through two years in office before he was caught having an affair with a prostitute. He resigned.

Speaking of New York governors, more recently Andrew Cuomo was forced out of office by a series of sexual harassment allegations. But forced means that despite his defiance, after a few months he pushed himself out of the window, rather than being pushed by others.

These are just a few examples of situations in which a politician "did the right thing," and stepped down.

But what happens when a politician has no shame?

Look at Republican Rep. George Santos of New York. The man is a lying liar who lies a lot. He's Jewish? No, he's not. He's wealthy? No, he's not. He attended what school, now? No, he didn't. Resign for his many sins? No, he won't.

The Republican majority in the House of Representatives desperately needs his vote, so it isn't going to do anything. He will, however, eventually face the voters and probably disappear. This is most likely a case of justice delayed, rather than denied. If there is such a thing.

Of course, former President Donald Trump is the ultimate example. It's not so much the incidents where he denies the facts, such as when he was impeached for trying to extort Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky for information to subvert a U.S. election. Or when he claimed no responsibility for the attack on the U.S. Capitol building that happened largely at his veiled request. That led to his second impeachment, but neither shame—nor politics—changed a thing. It's the events that he doesn't refute that show that Trump and shame have never met. In the past, a politician who grabbed women "by the pussy" and then crowed about it, would resign.

Oh, well.

Still, the election fairy came, and Donald Trump was pushed from office.

But what happens when the alleged evildoer has a lifetime appointment? What if such a person took trips and gifts he probably shouldn't have and told no one? What if his mother was living rent free because of a sweetheart deal with the guy who was paying for those vacations? What if his wife played a part in the events surrounding the Jan. 6 riot?

What if, what if, what if...

In an era not long ago, such a person would have removed themselves from our sight, huddling in comfort on a yacht somewhere.

Today is a brave, no longer new world. A world without shame.

Associate Justice Clarence Thomas is virtually immune from prosecution. Even "straight" news articles are quick to opine that his position is immutable. The need for the House of Representatives to impeach him, and then a two-thirds majority of the Senate to convict him, means that whatever remains of the 74-year-old's life will be spent helping to demolish the republic along partisan—and religious—lines.

It's hard to have faith in a republic where the bad guys always win. Shame, which used to be universal—not a Republican or Democratic attribute—made up for some of the mistakes the Founders made. Shame brought legitimacy to a system that badly needs it.

As Thomas Jefferson never said, the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the shame of patriots and tyrants.

A republic without shame cannot stand.

Jason Fields is a deputy opinion editor at Newsweek.

The views in this article are the writer's own.