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I’m old enough to remember the 200th anniversary of the American Revolution. Bicentennial symbols were everywhere — Liberty Bells, eagles, and that ubiquitous red, white, and blue stylized five-point star logo slapped on hats, T-shirts, socks, soft drink cups, beer cans, and even a special “Spirit of ’76” edition of the Ford Mustang II. Commemorative events were springing up everywhere, and people had full-blown bicentennial fever.

The 250th anniversary is a different animal entirely. Even the official name — Semiquincentennial — sounds like something you’d need a medical degree to pronounce. But the tongue-twisting label is the least of its problems.

The bicentennial came after a decade of national trauma: Vietnam, Watergate, and the civil rights struggles had left the country battered. By 1976, most Americans were ready to feel good about themselves again, and the bicentennial became a giant, colorful celebration of “American resilience.” The 250th arrives in a different kind of trauma — one that is arguably more confusing because it comes dressed as patriotism.

A Celebration Gets Complicated

While the 250th is being marked by numerous events, commemorations, and official proclamations, it has not yet captured the national imagination the way 1976 did. The official nonpartisan U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission, established by Congress in 2016 and supported by both George W. Bush and Barack Obama as Honorary Co-Chairs, has been working toward what it calls the “largest and most inclusive” anniversary celebration in American history. But its efforts have increasingly been overshadowed — and, critics argue, undermined — by a parallel White House effort with a very different philosophy about what American history should look like.

Shortly after taking office in January 2025, President Trump signed an executive order titled “Celebrating America’s 250th Birthday,” creating his own body — Task Force 250 — to coordinate anniversary plans and promising “a grand celebration worthy of the momentous occasion.” A full year of festivities was planned, beginning on Memorial Day 2025 and running through July 4, 2026. On paper, more attention on the anniversary sounds like good news. In practice, the story is more complicated.

When “Restoring History” Means Removing It

Two months after launching his anniversary task force, Trump signed a second executive order — this one titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History” — directing Vice President Vance to eliminate what the order calls “divisive race-centered ideology” from Smithsonian museums, educational and research centers, and the National Zoo (the Zoo??). The Smithsonian, one of the world’s great repositories of American history, was accused by the president of having come “under the influence of a divisive, race-centered ideology” that portrayed “American and Western values as inherently harmful and oppressive.”

That executive order set off a chain of events that has complicated the 250th anniversary in ways the founding fathers would have found darkly ironic, given that the Revolution was, at its core, a fight against the arbitrary exercise of executive power.

At Philadelphia’s Independence National Historical Park — one of the most historically significant sites in the country — National Park Service employees abruptly removed exhibits about the nine people George Washington held in slavery while Philadelphia served as the nation’s capital. Passersby reportedly heard an employee repeating, “I’m just following orders” as the displays came down. The city of Philadelphia promptly sued the federal government, arguing that the removal violated a cooperative agreement for the site’s development.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. According to reporting from Poynter and PEN America, National Park Service employees were ordered to survey all signage and interpretive materials across the nation’s 400-plus parks and monuments, flagging anything “negative about either past or living Americans.” Exhibits about slavery, Indigenous history, women’s rights, and climate change were all swept into the review. At Fort Sumter in South Carolina — where the Civil War began — even a sign explaining the risks the site faces from rising sea levels was removed.

The Interior Department issued a November 2025 memo ordering National Park Service gift shops to remove items promoting DEI or “gender expression.” Free admission days that had previously honored Martin Luther King Jr. Day and Juneteenth were dropped; June 14 — Flag Day and President Trump’s birthday (does anyone thinks that’s a coincidence?) — was added instead.

Meanwhile, a proposed commemorative dollar coin design featured President Trump on the obverse and the words “Fight! Fight! Fight!” on the reverse — evoking the imagery from the July 2024 assassination attempt. The Commission of Fine Arts, whose members Trump dismissed in October 2025 and replaced with his own appointees, subsequently recommended the design.

The Money Problem

The nonpartisan America250 Commission hasn’t just faced ideological headwinds. It has also faced financial ones. By early 2026, the Commission had received only $25 million of its congressionally appropriated $150 million, with the remainder at risk of being redirected to Trump-aligned Freedom 250’s “Freedom Trucks” — six state-of-the-art mobile museums traveling the country telling a version of American history that aligns with the administration’s vision. Representative Bonnie Watson Coleman raised concerns about the funding diversion, though the Commission stated it had enough to continue its core programming.

What Actually Happened at Lexington and Concord

Against this backdrop, the 250th anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19, 2025, became a preview of what the full anniversary might look like. The battle reenactments drew large crowds, along with protesters carrying signs reading “No Kings” and “Resist Like It’s 1775,” explicitly drawing parallels between opposition to King George III and what they saw as autocratic tendencies in current leadership.

Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey told the crowd at the North Bridge ceremony that “we see things that would be familiar to our Revolutionary predecessors — the silencing of critics, the disappearing people from our streets, demands for unquestioned fealty.” Whether one agrees with that characterization or not, the spectacle of Americans invoking the Revolution to oppose their own government at a Revolution commemoration is at minimum historically interesting — and arguably points to the enduring vitality of Revolutionary ideals.

Historians have noted that the Revolution itself was messier and more ambiguous than either side of today’s debate wants to acknowledge. As University of South Carolina professor Woody Holton observed, most colonists in April 1775 weren’t seeking independence — they wanted better treatment within the British Empire and a return to pre-1763 arrangements. The revolution was improvised, contentious, and full of people who disagreed about its meaning even while it was happening. Sound familiar?

The Founding Fathers Were Not a Monolith

Here is what is genuinely troubling about selectively sanitizing Revolutionary history: the founders themselves would not have recognized the sanitized version. George Washington, the hero of the Revolution, held people in slavery, including at the presidential residence in Philadelphia — the very site where exhibits were just torn down. Benjamin Franklin, who helped draft the Declaration of Independence, owned enslaved people and only became an abolitionist late in his life. Thomas Jefferson wrote “all men are created equal” while holding more than 600 people in bondage over his lifetime.

Removing this history doesn’t honor the founders. It patronizes them by pretending their contradictions didn’t exist — and it patronizes us by suggesting we can’t handle the full truth. Even they recognized the contradictions. The founders were brilliant, flawed, and human. That’s what makes the Revolution worth studying.

Resistance in the Courts and in the Institutions

It’s worth noting that the administration’s efforts have met significant resistance. Federal courts have blocked some removals. Scholars, activists, and historians have pushed back forcefully. A coalition of groups filed suit in February 2026 arguing that the Interior Department’s mandate to strip historical information from national parks violated the Administrative Procedure Act. Philadelphia’s lawsuit over the Washington slavery exhibit is ongoing.

Northwestern University historian Leslie M. Harris, author of five books on American slavery, has said that no previous presidential administration has interfered with historic sites in this way, and warned of a potential long-term consequence: public distrust of government-maintained historical sites, or outright avoidance of them.

What We Can Do

I wrote earlier about a friend on the West Virginia 250th committee who told me their initial meeting accomplished nothing and, almost two years later, they’ve had not had a further meeting. They have only just in the past few weeks announced their plans for America 250. That’s disappointing, but in some ways, it underscores the larger point: the commemoration of this anniversary is going to be shaped by whoever shows up.

Here in West Virginia, we showed what’s possible when citizens take the lead. In October 2024, without any state or national organizational or financial help, the City of Point Pleasant and the West Virginia Sons of the American Revolution organized a commemoration of the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Point Pleasant — a battle many consider a precursor to the Revolution. It worked. People came. History was honored.

We can do more of that. We don’t need to live in Massachusetts to commemorate Lexington and Concord. We don’t need federal approval to mark the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the Battle of Saratoga, or the crossing of the Delaware. We don’t need the government’s permission to tell complete history — including the parts about who was left out and who fought to be included anyway.

All across the country, individuals and small groups are working to recognize the revolution. In West Virginia, we’ve organized commemorations of the Boston Tea Party, the 250th anniversary of the founding of the Continental Navy and the Continental Marines, George Washington’s Birthday, and a special America 250 Memorial Day service at the West Virginia Veterans Memorial, all without any governmental support or funding. There have been presentations at local libraries and civic groups about the lives of average people during the time of the revolution, the origin of the American flag and even demonstrations of cooking and foods from the time of the revolution. If we had waited for state or national support these activities never would have happened. Just because your event may be small doesn’t mean it’s unimportant.

The Revolution, after all, was not a government program. It was a citizen uprising.

The Stakes

The American Revolution matters to world history precisely because it planted ideas — self-governance, the rule of law, the consent of the governed, the equality of all people before the law — that were genuinely radical ideas in 1776 and remain contested in much of the world today. Those ideas were aspirational when they were written. They remain aspirational now. The gap between the ideal and the reality is not a reason to hide the history; it is the history.

If the 250th anniversary is remembered primarily as a moment when the federal government selectively curated which parts of the founding era the public was allowed to encounter, that will itself become a significant historical footnote — and not a flattering one.

It will be our great shame if we allow the commemoration of an event so significant in both American and world history to be used — by anyone, of any political stripe — to divide us rather than to strengthen our common bond. The Revolution was imperfect, contentious, and incomplete. So is the republic it created. That is not a cause for despair. It is a call to engagement and improvement.

We the people. Still the operative phrase.

Illustration generated by author using ChatGPT.

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Sources

America250 Commission — https://america250.org/
White House Freedom 250 page — https://www.whitehouse.gov/freedom250/
AASLH on the 250th — https://aaslh.org/the-250th-anniversary-and-the-road-ahead/
PBS NewsHour: A divided nation battles over the Revolution’s legacy — https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/250-years-after-the-start-of-the-american-revolution-a-divided-nation-battles-over-its-legacy
NPR: Trump executive order targets Smithsonian — https://www.npr.org/2025/03/27/nx-s1-5342914/smithsonian-president-trump-executive-order
The American Prospect: Whitening American History — https://prospect.org/2026/02/23/whitening-america-black-history-trump-slavery-dei-philadelphia/
Poynter: Trump reshaping Black history — https://www.poynter.org/fact-checking/2026/trump-administration-altering-black-history/
PEN America: Purging history from national parks — https://pen.org/purging-history-from-national-parks/
Courthouse News: Groups sue over park history removals — https://www.courthousenews.com/trump-administration-accused-of-erasing-history-from-national-parks/
Wikipedia: Semiquincentennial coinage — https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Semiquincentennial_coinage

You Are Pre-Approved!

By John Turley

On May 27, 2026

In Commentary

The Shameless, Relentless, Occasionally Confounding World of Credit Card Solicitations

There is a tree somewhere in North America that gave its life so that you could receive a glossy envelope informing you that you have been “pre-approved” for a credit card you never asked for, do not need, and will almost certainly use to buy something you will regret. And then, before the last fibers of that tree have even fully composted in a landfill, another envelope arrives. And another. And another. The credit card industry, it turns out, does not take rejection personally.

If there is one thing that unites every American regardless of age, income, or credit score, it is the daily ritual of sorting through a mailbox that appears to be funded entirely by credit card marketing departments. You may be rich, poor, employed, retired, or technically living in a van — the credit card offers will find you. In effect, your mailbox has become a credit card distribution center.

The Numbers: A Blizzard of Pre-Approval

Let’s start with some data, because the numbers are genuinely staggering. At an early peak of credit card direct mail campaigns in 2005 and 2006, the industry was mailing roughly 7.5 billion pieces per year — which works out to approximately 30 offers for every adult in the country. That’s a piece of mail roughly every twelve days, from an industry that had apparently decided that subtlety was for amateurs. The market is so saturated that the response rate is typically less than 1%; that’s an absurd amount of mail just to catch few fish.

The Great Recession briefly interrupted this party. By July 2009, the volume had cratered to a trickle of just over 1.2 billion pieces per year. But credit card issuers, being resilient optimists in the face of human financial suffering, bounced back. By 2020, estimates placed the total at around 11 billion credit card solicitations sent to consumers in a single year. (I think most of them wound up in my mailbox.)

For context, the average American household currently receives roughly 848 pieces of junk mail per year, and credit card solicitations make up a meaningful share of that. One statistical source estimates Americans spend, in aggregate, eight months of their lifetime opening junk mail. One can only imagine how much of that is spent frowning at an offer for a card with a 29.99% APR and a free tote bag.

Despite digital marketing’s rise, the physical mailbox remains a preferred channel for credit card pitches. Why? Because the industry discovered long ago that a glossy envelope with your name printed in a font that implies importance is harder to ignore than an email you delete before you even finish reading the subject line.

The Average American: Already Carrying Quite Enough, Thank You

So, what do all these offers produce? Americans currently hold an average of 7.1 open credit card accounts, though only about 3.7 of those are actively used. The rest appear to be dormant accounts accumulated over the years, like ex-partners you never quite got around to officially ending things with.

Baby Boomers lead the generational pack with an average of 4.61 active cards, followed by Gen X at 4.23. In total, there are now 636 million open credit card accounts in the United States as of mid-2025 — nearly two per American, counting children and people who have sworn off plastic entirely.

The average credit card balance in the U.S. as of late 2024 was $6,730, with the average APR sitting at a punishing 21 to 22 percent. This means that for many people, the credit card they received in a “pre-approved!” envelope is now costing them more in interest than they spend on groceries. The tote bag, presumably, was not worth it.

Senior Citizens: A Special Kind of Target

Now let’s talk about senior citizens, because the credit card industry has a special enthusiasm for this demographic. Seniors, after all, tend to have long credit histories, established accounts, and in many cases, the kind of pristine credit scores that issuers find irresistible. The fact that many are living on fixed incomes does not appear to dim the industry’s ardor.

According to recent data, Americans 65 and older hold on average, up to 4.8 cards per person. This tracks: decades of responsible use and a long credit history make seniors attractive applicants. And credit card issuers can absolutely count Social Security, pension income, IRA distributions, and investment income as qualifying income on applications. Federal law requires it.

What this means, in practice, is that a 78-year-old widower living on $1,400 a month from Social Security can receive and potentially qualify for a credit card — possibly with a $5,000 credit limit and a 28% APR. Whether this is a genuine service or a predatory opportunity dressed in rewards points is a matter of perspective, and apparently a matter of vigorous congressional debate. A House committee hearing on the subject noted with concern that older Americans are the fastest-growing age group to file for bankruptcy, a trend linked in part to credit card debt.

Scenario One: The Comfortable Retiree

Consider “Martha,” a 71-year-old retired schoolteacher in Ohio. She has a pension of $2,200 per month, Social Security of $1,800 per month, and a modest IRA she draws $500 from monthly. Her total annual income is around $54,000. She has an excellent credit score of 760, accumulated over 45 years of never once paying a bill late.

Martha’s mailbox is a cornucopia of opportunity. She receives offers for travel cards, cashback cards, AARP-branded cards, hotel rewards cards, and at least one card that seems to believe she has always wanted to earn airline miles in exchange for buying cat food. She probably qualifies for most of them. Her challenge is not getting a credit card — it is having the discipline not to get all of them.

Scenario Two: The Social Security-Only Retiree

“Robert,” 74, is a retired factory worker in West Virginia. His only income is $1,350 per month in Social Security. He rents a small apartment and drives a 2009 pickup. He would not describe himself as a big spender. Yet the offers come anyway. Some cards he would qualify for; some he would not. But the envelopes do not discriminate.

For Robert, a credit card on a Social Security-only income is a double-edged instrument. Used wisely — a small recurring charge paid off every month — it helps maintain his credit score. Used unwisely, with a 24% APR and a $3,000 limit he does not need, it can quietly become a slow-motion financial disaster. As one congressional witness summarized: more than a third of seniors depend on Social Security for over 90% of their income, and a high-interest credit card can be devastating for someone living on a fixed income.

Scenario Three: The Affluent Senior

“Eleanor” is 68, a retired surgeon living in Scottsdale. She has a pension, maximum Social Security, significant investment income, and a paid-off home. Her total income is probably north of $200,000 a year. Her credit score is 820. Eleanor receives credit card offers the way the rest of us receive pizza coupons — constantly, enthusiastically, and with the implicit suggestion that her life would be measurably improved if she just signed up.

Eleanor gets the platinum cards, the black cards, the invitation-only cards that arrive in weighted envelopes and refer to her, inexplicably, as a “member.” For Eleanor, the game is actually worth playing: if you have the discipline to pay the balance every month, a 2% cashback card on $150,000 in annual spending produces $3,000 in free money. The credit card companies are betting she won’t. She usually does. Eleanor is winning — one of the few.

The Ultimate Power Move: Apply for All of Them

Now we arrive at the scenario that the credit card industry’s actuarial tables do not like to contemplate: what happens if someone actually applies for every card they are offered, gets approved for most of them, charges them all to the maximum, and then declares bankruptcy?

Theoretically, this sounds like a heist. In practice, it is a lot messier, and the law has anticipated your enthusiasm.

First, the logistics. Applying for multiple credit cards simultaneously triggers multiple hard inquiries on your credit report, which almost immediately begins dragging your credit score down. Issuers can see those inquiries in real time. After the third or fourth application, the phone calls from the fraud department start. After the eighth, many issuers simply decline. The window for pulling this off is narrow and rapidly self-closing, like a submarine hatch operated by someone who has had one too many.

That said, people do accumulate considerable credit card debt before reaching bankruptcy. American credit card debt hit $1.18 trillion in 2025, and a meaningful portion of it is genuinely uncollectable. Chapter 7 bankruptcy, the kind that discharges most unsecured debts within a few months, absolutely does handle credit card balances. In most cases, credit card debt is treated as non-priority unsecured debt, meaning it is the first thing eliminated and the last creditor to get paid if there are assets. Usually there are no assets.

But — and here is where the bankruptcy judge stops smiling — there are several traps for the scheming would-be debt escapee.

The first is the luxury goods rule. If you charged more than $725 worth of luxury goods or services within 90 days of filing bankruptcy, that debt is presumptively non-dischargeable. The law has a very dim view of someone who maxed out a credit card at Nordstrom on a Thursday and filed Chapter 7 on a Sunday. Similarly, cash advances over $1,000 taken within 70 days of filing are presumptively non-dischargeable.

The second is fraud. If the bankruptcy trustee or a credit card company can demonstrate that you took on debt with no intention of repaying it — which, if you applied for 14 cards in a month and maxed them all out, is not a difficult case to make — those debts can be challenged as non-dischargeable. The burden of proof matters, and credit card companies have 60 days from your first creditor meeting to file complaints.

The third is the means test. Chapter 7 bankruptcy requires you to pass an income means test. If your income is above the state median, you may be pushed toward Chapter 13, which involves a three-to-five-year repayment plan. Not quite the clean escape the heist film suggested.

For seniors specifically, there is a wrinkle that is either reassuring or terrifying depending on your perspective: Social Security income cannot be garnished by private creditors — even if a court enters a judgment against you. A credit card company can sue you, win, and receive a judgment, and still be unable to touch your monthly Social Security check. This makes seniors who live exclusively on Social Security somewhat “collection-proof,” though that is a legal term, not an invitation, and the stress of debt and lawsuits is not trivial.

In other words, someone could theoretically max out ten credit cards, declare bankruptcy, watch most of the debt get discharged, and continue living on Social Security without the credit card companies collecting a dime. In theory. In practice, this would also mean having a bankruptcy on your credit report for 7 to 10 years, being unable to get any new credit, and explaining to your grandchildren why you have 14 maxed-out cards and a lawyer’s business card on the refrigerator.

Some people believe they may have found a way around this. They plan that if they are ever diagnosed with a fatal illness, they will simply max out every credit card they can get and leave the companies on the hook for their final days of high living.

There’ s just one problem. When you die, your credit card debt doesn’t just evaporate. Everything you own — and everything you owe — becomes part of your “estate.” Your estate is responsible for your debts, meaning outstanding credit card balances are paid from assets like your home, bank accounts, investments, and personal property. The legal sorting-out process is called probate.

So, if you pass away with $5,000 in credit card debt and a $50,000 estate, the debt gets paid first and your heirs get the rest. If you have $5,000 in debt and only $3,000 in assets, the creditor typically eats the difference — your kids don’t write a check. However, if your surviving spouse is a joint account holder or you live in a community property state, they may be responsible for your total credit card debt.

The Bottom Line: A Comedy in Several Acts

The credit card solicitation industry is, at its core, an enormous optimism machine. It believes, against all available evidence, that the person who received 847 pieces of junk mail last year is ready to finally respond to number 848. It believes that a 79-year-old man on Social Security is one glossy envelope away from becoming a loyal travel rewards customer. It believes that if it just makes the sign-up bonus big enough, you will forget about the 26% APR.

Most of us play along, at least a little. We hold three or four cards. We pay them off sometimes and carry a balance sometimes. We accept the cashback and occasionally read the fine print, mostly when something goes wrong.

And somewhere in a mail-sorting facility right now, another batch of envelopes is being addressed. They are glossy. They are personalized. They say, in bold letters, that you have been pre-approved.

You are always pre-approved. That’s the joke. And also, somehow, the business model.

Illustration Generated by author using ChatGPT.

Disclaimer

This article is written for general informational and entertainment purposes. It does not constitute financial, legal, or medical advice. Readers facing significant credit card debt or considering bankruptcy should consult a qualified financial advisor or licensed bankruptcy attorney. The author’s opinions are independent and do not represent any institutional affiliation.

Selected Sources

Acxiom — Direct Mail Credit Card Volume History

Bankrate — Credit Card Ownership and Usage Statistics

Payanywhere — Statistics on American Consumer Credit Card Usage

Clearly Payments — How Many Credit Cards Are in the USA in 2025

CardRates — How Many Credit Cards Does the Average American Have?

WalletHub — Opting Out of Pre-Approved Credit Offers

U.S. House of Representatives — Credit Cards and Older Americans (Hearing)

Firstcard — Best Credit Cards for Low-Income Seniors

Debt.org — Can Social Security Be Garnished for Credit Card Debt?

Justia — Credit Card Debt Under Bankruptcy Law

CBS News — Can Credit Card Debt Be Discharged in Bankruptcy on Disability?

Is the Roberts Court Biased? The Pattern Speaks for Itself

By John Turley

On May 19, 2026

In Commentary, Politics

Chief Justice John Roberts keeps telling Americans the Supreme Court is not political. He recently complained that people “view us as purely political actors,” and insisted that’s just not how the Court works. That might have been plausible twenty years ago. After the decisions of the past decade, it sounds less like reassurance and more like spin.

The Roberts Court started out conventionally conservative. Then came the turning points: Anthony Kennedy’s retirement in 2018 and Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death in 2020. Donald Trump replaced them with Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett, locking in a 6–3 conservative supermajority. Since then, on the biggest fights of our time—voting, money in politics, reproductive freedom, presidential power—the Court’s answers have marched almost uniformly to the right.

One analysis of the Court’s work through 2018 found more than seventy cases where the conservative bloc formed a majority in areas like voting rights, campaign finance, corporate accountability, and civil rights where the conservative justices either bent precedent or quietly shelved their own stated doctrines to get where they wanted to go. That is not happenstance. That is a method.

Look at the decisions that define this era.

In Citizens United, the Court announced that corporations have a First Amendment right to spend unlimited money in elections, destroying what remained of campaign finance law and supercharging the power of wealthy donors and corporate interests. In Shelby County, it gutted a core provision of the Voting Rights Act, inviting a wave of state-level restrictions that predictably hit minority voters hardest. In Rucho, Roberts openly acknowledged that partisan gerrymandering is “incompatible with democratic principles”—and then declared the federal courts powerless to stop it. The Court saw a threat to democracy and chose to shrug.

Dobbs went further. For nearly fifty years, Roe v. Wade recognized a constitutional right to abortion. In 2022, that right vanished in a single 6–3 decision that tracked partisan lines. The majority did not just reject Roe; it rewrote the understanding of liberty in a way that puts other long‑standing rights on shakier ground.

Then there is Trump v. United States, which discovered sweeping criminal immunity for presidents found nowhere in the Constitution’s text or structure. Contrast that with New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen, where the same Court insisted modern gun laws must mirror 18th‑ and 19th‑century regulations. History is mandatory when it narrows gun regulation. History is optional when it might constrain a president. The “neutral” principles somehow keep landing on the same ideological side.

The real indictment of the Roberts Court is not that the justices are conservative; conservative legal thought has serious intellectual roots. It is that the Court’s philosophy behaves like a trapdoor: originalism when it helps, textualism when that works better, “judicial restraint” when restraint freezes progressive policies, and muscular judicial power when restraint would get in the way. The tools keep changing. The destination does not.

The shadow docket has only deepened the concern. Using unsigned, unexplained emergency orders, the Court has green‑lit sweeping policy changes—on immigration, civil rights, and executive power—while lower courts were still sorting out legality. Normally, dramatic changes to national policy come with full briefing, oral argument, and written opinions. Under Roberts, some of the most consequential decisions arrive in the dead of night, with no reasoning the public can read and no guidance lower courts can follow.

To be honest, the story is not all one-way traffic. Justice Neil Gorsuch wrote the majority opinion which held that federal employment law protects LGBTQ workers. Roberts has occasionally voted to preserve precedent he personally disliked. There are a handful of high‑profile cases where the conservative justices have broken ranks or rejected expansive claims of presidential power, but those cases are rare.

In the high‑stakes political questions of the last decade the line is brutally clear: when democracy is at stake, money wins; when voting rights are at stake, restrictions win; when women’s bodily autonomy is at stake, state power wins; when presidential accountability is at stake, the president wins. That is not a random walk through neutral legal doctrine. It is a pattern.

Roberts is right about one thing: it is simplistic to call justices “politicians in robes.” Asking whether the Roberts Court is “biased” is not the point. Regardless of label, we have a Supreme Court whose decisions on the most contested issues overwhelmingly favor one political side. The law requires consistency and when the Court keeps changing its rules but not its results, the public is not fooled.

The Chief Justice can insist that is just how the law shakes out. The rest of us are entitled to look at the record and draw our own conclusions.

The Persecution Brand: How Trump Turns Grievance Into Political Currency

By John Turley

On May 14, 2026

In Commentary, Politics

“They’re not after me, they’re after you. I’m just in the way.” —Donald J. Trump

Introduction

Donald Trump has turned political victimhood into something remarkably durable: a brand. Since his first term, Trump has consistently advanced a narrative that he is the unfair target of a corrupt establishment — not because of anything he has done, but because of who he is and the threat he poses to entrenched power. That narrative, far from fading, has deepened and accelerated in his second term, propelled by a relentless series of legal maneuvers, institutional confrontations, and rhetorical provocations that seem engineered to keep the grievance machine running. Whether the cause is a leaked tax return, a photograph of seashells on a beach, or a comedian’s joke at a press dinner, Trump and his allies have shown a remarkable ability to recast every controversy as evidence of persecution. The result is a political identity built less on policy than on shared victimhood — one that has proven more resilient to contradiction than almost anything else in modern American politics. I first wrote about this several months ago, but recent events have motivated me to update the topic.

The Anatomy of a Persecution Story

At the heart of Trump’s messaging is the claim that nearly every major American institution is rigged against him: the judiciary, the press, federal agencies, social media companies, and even fellow Republicans who fail to show sufficient loyalty. He doesn’t stop at personal grievance. His signature rhetorical move is to project that persecution outward — to his supporters — insisting that the forces targeting him are really targeting them, and that he alone stands in the way. Strongmen throughout history have used this populist inversion to build fierce loyalty, but Trump has refined it for the digital age, where every legal setback can be instantly monetized through fundraising appeals and turned into rally fodder before the ink is dry on a court filing.

Suing His Own Government: The IRS Lawsuit

Few episodes illustrate the paradox of Trump’s persecution narrative more sharply than his $10 billion lawsuit against the IRS and Treasury Department, agencies he controls as president. Filed in January 2026, the suit alleges that a government contractor wrongfully leaked his tax records to the press during his first term — a legitimate grievance in isolation, since the contractor did plead guilty and was sentenced to five years in prison. But the spectacle of a sitting president suing his own executive branch for a payout that would come from taxpayers has raised serious legal and ethical flags. Florida District Judge Kathleen M. Williams questioned whether Trump and the agencies are “sufficiently adverse to each other” for the case to proceed at all, noting that Trump’s own executive orders require the Justice Department to follow his legal interpretations. In plain terms: the president would be suing the government he runs, defended by lawyers who must take his side, with any settlement check written to him by American taxpayers. Trump’s lawyers and the IRS have meanwhile entered settlement talks, requesting a 90-day pause in proceedings. Democratic lawmakers introduced a bill to prohibit the president, vice president, and their families from collecting any such settlement. The episode is vintage Trump — a genuine underlying grievance amplified into a high-profile conflict that simultaneously reinforces his victimhood and generates favorable headlines.

The Pursuit of James Comey: Retribution as Policy

The Trump Justice Department’s second criminal indictment of former FBI Director James Comey, announced April 28, 2026, reads like a case study in how prosecution can become an instrument of political narrative. The charges stem from an Instagram post Comey made in May 2025 showing seashells on a beach arranged to spell “86 47” — a formation Comey said he simply found and photographed. Prosecutors interpreted it as a threat against the 47th president, an argument that First Amendment scholars have called legally dubious. Stanford First Amendment expert Eugene Volokh told CNN: “This is not going anywhere. This is clearly not a punishable threat.” The indictment is the second attempt to prosecute Comey; the first, built on allegations that he lied to Congress, collapsed when a judge ruled that the prosecutor handling the case had been unlawfully appointed. Trump had publicly urged then-Attorney General Pam Bondi to move against Comey, and Bondi was fired in April 2026 after reports that the president was frustrated that she wasn’t pursuing his critics aggressively enough. Her successor, Todd Blanche — Trump’s own former personal defense attorney — moved quickly. The pattern is hard to miss: an allegation, a prosecution, a dismissal, another allegation, a second prosecution. Whether or not the charges succeed, the process itself delivers the message Trump wants delivered.

Perhaps his fear of seashells has caused him to forget that he posted a picture of then President Biden bound and gagged on the back of a pickup truck. Certainly, that was more of a threat than someone’s beachside graffiti, yet Trump was not prosecuted. I wonder why.

The Ballroom and the Bullet: Security as Metaphor

On the evening of April 25, 2026, shots were fired near the security screening area outside the White House Correspondents’ Dinner at the Washington Hilton, where Trump was attending his first such dinner as a sitting president. The suspect, identified as Cole Tomas Allen, was arrested; no attendees inside the ballroom were struck. It was, by any measure, a frightening episode, and the third reported attempt on Trump’s life. What followed, however, quickly illustrated Trump’s talent for turning crisis into confirmation of his narrative. Within two minutes of beginning his press briefing that night, Trump pivoted to arguing that the incident proved the wisdom of his plan to build a new ballroom on White House grounds — a project historic preservationists have challenged in court as unlawful. His administration immediately pressured the National Trust for Historic Preservation to drop its lawsuit, with the acting attorney general writing that the preservation group’s case “cannot possibly justify delaying the construction of a secure facility for the President.” Critics pointed out that Trump’s own administration had given the Correspondents’ Dinner a lower security classification than other events he attends — a detail that complicated his argument. But in Trump’s telling, the shooting was simply the latest proof that enemies lurk everywhere and that his foresight is perpetually vindicated.

The Widow Joke: Melania, Kimmel, and the Media Enemy

Two days before the Correspondents’ Dinner shooting, comedian Jimmy Kimmel delivered a mock roast on his late-night program that included the line: “Look at Melania, so beautiful. Mrs. Trump, you have a glow like an expectant widow.” Kimmel later said it was an obvious joke about the couple’s age difference. The timing — the joke aired before the attempted shooting — became fuel for a firestorm after the incident. First Lady Melania Trump, called on ABC to “take a stand” against Kimmel and President Trump wrote on social media that Kimmel should be “immediately fired by Disney and ABC,” calling his comments “beyond the pale.” FCC Chair Brendan Carr had previously threatened ABC affiliates over Kimmel’s coverage of an earlier controversy. Kimmel pushed back on his Monday night broadcast, calling the joke a “light roast” and denying any connection to the shooting, but the episode had already served its purpose in the persecution playbook: a comedian’s punchline reframed as an incitement; the president and first lady as targets of a corrupt, hostile media; and a federal regulator positioned to remind a broadcast network of who holds the license.

The Nobel Grievance: Peace Prize as Persecution

Trump’s relationship with the Nobel Peace Prize offers perhaps the purest distillation of his persecution aesthetic: a prestigious honor he was not given becomes evidence of institutional bias against him. In January 2026, Trump sent a text message to Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre that, as reported by PBS and confirmed by Norwegian officials, declared: “Considering your Country decided not to give me the Nobel Peace Prize for having stopped 8 Wars PLUS, I no longer feel an obligation to think purely of Peace.” The message was sent in the context of Trump’s threats to acquire Greenland by force and his tariff pressure on Norway. The factual problems were substantial. PolitiFact reported that the prize is awarded by an independent Norwegian committee, not the Norwegian government — a distinction Støre himself spelled out in a public statement — and Trump’s claim to have “stopped 8 wars” was not supported by evidence. The Nobel Committee separately clarified that a medal gifted to Trump by Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado did not legally transfer the prize to him. None of these corrections appeared to land with Trump’s base, for whom the image of a deserving president snubbed by a foreign establishment is emotionally resonant regardless of the technical details or even the truth.

THE BOARD OF PEACE: TRUMP’S PERSONAL PEACE PRIZE

The Board of Peace offers perhaps the most grandiose expression of Trump’s persecution narrative — not a complaint about being snubbed, but an institutional response to it. When Trump texted Norway’s prime minister in January 2026 linking his Greenland threats to the Nobel Committee’s failure to award him the prize, he was voicing a grievance he had already begun to act on. The Board of Peace, formally established at the World Economic Forum in Davos that same month, designated Trump as chairman for life — an arrangement that inverts the Nobel dynamic entirely: rather than waiting for an independent body to recognize his peacemaking, Trump created his own institution where recognition is structural and permanent. On the anniversary of his inauguration, Trump cited the United Nations never having helped him as a justification for the Board’s existence, suggesting it might eventually replace the UN altogether. The persecution logic runs cleanly through both episodes: the institutions that should have honored him failed him, so he built alternatives he controls. That no other G7 nation joined the Board, including Norway — the very country Trump blamed for the Nobel snub — will almost certainly be absorbed into the same narrative as further proof of establishment resistance to a leader they refuse to recognize.

Why the Narrative Works

Trump’s persecution story endures because it performs several functions simultaneously. It flips accountability into loyalty — every legal charge or critical headline becomes not evidence of wrongdoing but proof of how threatening Trump is to the establishment. It mirrors the genuine anxieties of his base, many of whom feel overlooked by media and government institutions. And it delegitimizes opposition before opposition can speak — if the system is rigged, then any ruling, verdict, or investigation against Trump is by definition corrupt. The narrative also has deep theological resonance for evangelical supporters who see Trump’s legal and political battles as a form of spiritual warfare, reinforcing the language of martyrdom that has surrounded his campaigns since 2016. For many supporters, belief in Trump’s victimhood has become identity, not analysis — and identity is far more resistant to factual challenge than any ordinary political position.

The Profitable Persecution

Trump’s persecution narrative is not merely persuasive — it is a business model. Every new indictment, investigation, or hostile media segment has historically triggered an immediate fundraising surge. His platform, Truth Social, serves simultaneously as megaphone and monetization engine. He has sold branded merchandise and Bibles invoking themes of embattlement and martyrdom. And now, with his IRS lawsuit, the grievance machinery has potentially come full circle: a complaint about institutional victimization that — if settled favorably — would result in a taxpayer-funded payout to the president himself. The architecture is durable precisely because it converts every attack into a resource, every setback into a rally cry, and every enemy into a fundraising opportunity.

After the Correspondents’ Dinner shooting, Republican senators moved to authorize $400 million in federal funding, with Senator Graham suggesting private donations could remain in play for furnishings or other expenses. What will happen to the hundreds of millions already raised and sitting in a private nonprofit shielded from standard conflict-of-interest review? That has not been addressed by the legislation or the White House and given the lack transparency in the ballroom fund it is reasonable to speculate on the probability of diversion to other uses.

Trump transferred $1.2 billion of US funds to the Board of Peace. He has pledged to transfer a total of $10 billion. These are taxpayer funds that will be totally under his personal control and can be used at his discretion. There is no public accountability for these funds.

For those who wonder about Donald Trump’s motivation for his persecution narrative, his personal wealth has almost doubled in little more than a year since his inauguration.

The Authoritarian Parallels

Scholars of democratic backsliding have noted that Trump’s strategy tracks closely with patterns seen in other countries where elected leaders have gradually dismantled independent institutions. The elements are recognizable: vilify the press as the enemy of the people; claim that legal proceedings against you are politically motivated; replace career officials with personal loyalists; and promise retribution against those who prosecuted or opposed you. In Trump’s second term, those patterns have sharpened. The firing of an attorney general perceived as insufficiently aggressive toward critics, the second indictment of a former FBI director on a legally thin — some say imaginary — theory, the use of regulatory threats against a broadcast network that aired an unflattering joke, are not isolated incidents. They form a coherent approach in which the persecution narrative both justifies and accelerates the consolidation of power.

Critiques and Contradictions

The persecution narrative has real vulnerabilities. Legal scholars have consistently argued that Trump mischaracterizes how due process works and overstates the degree to which prosecutions against him were politically directed. Fact-checkers have documented numerous false claims woven through his victimhood rhetoric — including the Nobel Peace Prize claim, the “8 wars” assertion, and the repeated charge of a “weaponized” Justice Department that, critics note, he now controls and is actively using against his own perceived enemies. The second Comey indictment, built on a social media photo that First Amendment experts regard as clearly protected speech, has drawn criticism even from some conservative legal commentators. The IRS lawsuit’s fundamental conflict of interest — a president suing the agencies he runs for money from taxpayers — has no obvious precedent in American legal history. Whether these contradictions ultimately matter to Trump’s political standing is another question entirely.

Conclusion

Donald Trump’s persecution narrative has outlasted every legal challenge, every fact-check, and every prediction of its imminent collapse. In the spring of 2026, it is more operationally central to his presidency than ever. The narrative is the brand. It galvanizes supporters, raises money, provides cover for the use of government power against political adversaries, and makes every institutional constraint on presidential authority look like persecution rather than law. For many Americans who support Trump, his legal fate matters far less than the story his victimhood tells — and in that story lies a political power that has proven remarkably difficult to dislodge.

Illustration generated by author using ChatGPT

“86” — A Little Number With a Big History

By John Turley

On May 2, 2026

In Commentary

Fifty some years ago when I was in the Marines, we used the term “86” to refer to something that should be ignored or discarded—in the colorful vernacular of the Corps, “shit canned”. That’s trashed to you civilians. The Marines have never been known as a peaceable lot and we had many colorful euphemisms for doing grievous bodily harm, but “86” was never among them.

So why is “86” suddenly everywhere in the news? Blame James Comey. The former FBI Director posted a beach photo on Instagram showing seashells arranged to spell out “86 47” — and the internet promptly exploded. Republicans argued it was a death threat against the 47th president. Comey said it simply meant he wanted Trump removed from office. That dispute has brought a piece of century-old American slang back into the spotlight, so it’s worth taking a look at what the term means and where it came from.

The Short Answer

Eighty-six is slang meaning “to throw out,” “to get rid of,” or “to refuse service to.” It most likely comes from 1930s soda-counter slang meaning that an item was sold out. This was part of a broader diner code that included: 13 “the boss is around,” 81 “glass of water,” and 95 “customer left without paying”. Over the decades it evolved from a kitchen noun into a verb with broader reach, and today it shows up everywhere from restaurant kitchens to Twitter and now worldwide headlines.

The Longer Answer

Here’s the honest answer: nobody knows for certain. Its etymology is unknown, but it seems to have been coined in the 1920s or 1930s. There are many theories about its origin — one article enumerates 18 possibilities, and another suggests there are “about 86 theories about 86.”

While the leading contender is the mundane diner option, there are several other more or less plausible and frequently more colorful options.

The most linguistically grounded explanation is that “86” is simply rhyming slang. The most common theory is that it is rhyming slang for “nix.” That’s the same “nix” meaning to reject or say no.

One of the more colorful stories involves a Prohibition-era speakeasy. Chumley’s, a bar with multiple entrances including one at 86 Bedford Street in New York. The story goes that the bar was supposedly warned by police before raids. Customers were told to “86 it” — meaning leave through the Bedford Street exit while cops came through the other door. It’s a great story, and if it’s not true it should be.

How It Evolved

First appearing in the early 1930s as a noun, it did not take long for the word to broaden its use beyond the realm of the soda counter. In the 1950s the word underwent some functional shift and began to be used as a verb — initially meaning “to refuse to serve a customer,” and later taking on the slightly extended meaning of “to get rid of; to throw out.”

It was quickly adopted and members of the military services who love slang, shortcuts, and inside terminology. It may just be a coincidence that Article 86 of the U.S. Uniform Code of Military Justice concerns Absence Without Leave, or AWOL.

By the 1970s it had moved well beyond the restaurant world. In the 1972 film The Candidate, a media adviser says to Robert Redford’s character, “OK, now, for starters, we got to cut your hair and eighty-six the sideburns.”

Where It Stands Today

These days, people use “86” when they cancel plans, dump something, or boot someone from a chat. Social media picked it up — Twitter and TikTok users will “86 a trend” or “86 a person” in a heartbeat.

In professional kitchens and bars, it remains “everyday lingo” — one hospitality industry veteran called it “probably the most overused word in hospitality.”

The Comey controversy also resurrected an older, arcane, and darker shade of the term. According to Cassell’s Dictionary of Slang, “to 86” can alternatively mean “to kill, to murder; to execute judicially.” That said, Merriam-Webster notes this use is infrequent, and they do not include this sense due to its relative recency and sparseness of use.

The bottom line is that “86” is one of those wonderfully slippery pieces of American slang that started in a noisy kitchen, picked up mythology along the way, and is now flexible enough to mean anything from “we’re out of the salmon” to a loaded political statement — depending entirely on who’s using it and who’s listening.

Or, perhaps this entire tempest is just the response of one thin skinned man to his pathologic fear of seashells.

Announcing a New Feature

By John Turley

On April 23, 2026

In Commentary, Uncategorized

As part of my ongoing efforts to make sure that The Grumpy Doc is no more than 20 years out of date, I’ve added a search function to the site. If you look to your right, you will see it cleverly labeled as SEARCH. Just enter any keyword and search away.

The One True Gospel of Wellness

By John Turley

On April 23, 2026

In Commentary, Medicine

Why Every Guru Thinks They’ve Found the Only Path to Health

There’s a peculiar affliction that seems to strike fitness influencers, biohackers, homeopathic healers, and wellness gurus with near-universal consistency — the unshakeable conviction that they, and only they, have cracked the code on human health. Whether it’s cold plunges at 4 a.m., microdosing mushrooms, coffee enemas, or whatever supplement stack is trending this week, every one of these prophets arrives at the same conclusion: their method is the path, the others are at best misguided, and mainstream medicine is a corrupt temple worth burning down.

Psychologists have a name for part of what’s happening here. It’s called the Dunning-Kruger effect — the tendency for people with limited knowledge in a domain to overestimate their own competence. But that’s only part of the story. Many of these figures are genuinely smart, sometimes even credentialed. What really drives the zealotry is something closer to what researchers call “belief perseverance” — the tendency to hold tightly to a conclusion even when contradicting evidence rolls in. Once someone has built an identity, a brand, and an income stream around a single idea, the psychological and financial cost of admitting nuance becomes enormous.

Take the biohacking community as a prime example. Some influencers — like the self-proclaimed “father of biohacking” — have built empires on the premise that optimizing the body is a matter of finding the right levers and pulling them correctly. They have championed everything from Bulletproof Coffee to infrared saunas to testosterone replacement, positioning each as a revelation that conventional medicine is too slow or too corrupted to acknowledge. The problem isn’t that all of these interventions lack merit — some have legitimate science behind them. The problem is the rhetorical framework: the idea that skeptics aren’t just wrong, they’re complicit. That’s not science; that’s a revival meeting.

Homeopathy sits at a different extreme but runs on the same engine. Developed in the late 18th century by Samuel Hahnemann, homeopathy is based on the idea that substances that cause symptoms in healthy people can cure those symptoms in the sick — and that extreme dilution actually strengthens a remedy’s potency. The scientific consensus is unambiguous: systematic reviews and meta-analyses have repeatedly found homeopathic remedies perform no better than placebo. And yet its advocates don’t merely disagree with this consensus — they dismiss the entire evidentiary framework, arguing that conventional research methods simply can’t measure what homeopathy does. It’s an airtight position: no evidence can ever count against it.

The fitness world runs its own version of this dogmatism on a perpetual loop. CrossFit devotees insist that anything other than functional high-intensity training is a waste of time. Carnivore diet advocates declare that vegetables are quietly poisoning you with antinutrients. Yoga instructors sometimes slide into the claim that breath control and mindfulness can substitute for actual medical care. Each subculture has its orthodoxy, its apostles, and its convenient explanations for why people who don’t follow the program are sick, lazy, or deceived. The irony is that many of these systems contain genuinely useful elements. Resistance training really does build muscle and bone density. Mindfulness really does reduce cortisol. Dietary quality really does matter enormously. But the insistence on one method to the exclusion of all others transforms useful practices into something closer to religious doctrine.

What’s lost in all the noise is the most important truth in medicine: human bodies are wildly heterogeneous. What works beautifully for one person may be ineffective or even harmful for another. This isn’t a flaw in the science — it is the science. Precision medicine, one of the most promising frontiers in modern healthcare, is built entirely on this recognition. The dream of a single universal protocol for human health isn’t just unrealized — it’s probably unrealizable. Yet that’s precisely what every wellness guru is selling.

There’s also a social dimension worth naming. The wellness industry is, in the most literal sense, an industry. It generated an estimated $5.6 trillion globally in 2022, according to the Global Wellness Institute, and that number continues to climb. When someone’s livelihood depends on their particular system being not just good but uniquely correct, objectivity becomes a luxury they can’t easily afford. Dismissing alternatives isn’t just tribalism — it’s good business.

None of this is to say that skepticism toward mainstream medicine is always misplaced. Conventional healthcare has real blind spots — in chronic disease management, in nutrition research, in the treatment of pain, and in its historical tendency to dismiss patient experience. The gurus often fill genuine gaps that the system has left open. But filling a gap is different from claiming you have the only map to the entire territory. The honest answer in health and fitness, as in most complex domains, is that we know a good deal, we don’t know quite enough, and anyone who tells you they’ve figured it all out probably hasn’t.

The next time someone tells you they’ve discovered the only way — whether it’s a supplement protocol, a spiritual practice, or a morning routine — it might be worth asking the simplest question in science: compared to what? If the answer is a dismissive wave at everything else, you probably have your answer.

Illustration generated by author using ChatGPT.

Sources

Global Wellness Institute — Global Wellness Economy Monitor: https://globalwellnessinstitute.org/industry-research/

Ernst E. — Homeopathy: The Undiluted Facts (Springer, 2016): https://link.springer.com/book/10.1007/978-3-319-43592-3

Dunning D. — The Dunning-Kruger Effect, Advances in Experimental Social Psychology: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0065260111440024

National Institutes of Health — Precision Medicine Initiative: https://www.nih.gov/research-training/allofus-research-program

Medical Disclaimer

The information provided in this article is intended for general educational and informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. It should not be used as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.

Always seek the guidance of a qualified healthcare provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition or treatment. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have read here.

If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or your local emergency number immediately.

The author of this article is a licensed physician, but the views expressed here are solely those of the author and do not represent the official position of any hospital, health system, or medical organization with which the author may be affiliated.

The Accidental Footnote: Heel Spurs, the Vietnam Draft, and American Inequality

By John Turley

On April 17, 2026

In Commentary, History, Medicine, Politics

If you’ve ever winced taking your first steps out of bed in the morning, you may have already made an involuntary acquaintance with heel spurs — or more precisely, with the condition that often travels with them. The term itself sounds alarming, and for a brief but colorful stretch of American political history, it became something far more charged than a footnote to podiatry. But before we get to the politics, it’s worth understanding what a heel spur actually is, because the medical reality is both more mundane and more complicated than the caricature.

What Exactly Is a Heel Spur?
A heel spur is a small bony outgrowth — technically called a calcaneal spur — that extends from the underside of the heel bone (the calcaneus). It forms at the spot where the plantar fascia — the thick ligament running the length of your foot from heel to toe — attaches to the heel bone. The spur is not, despite what the name implies, a sharp spike. It is typically smooth and rounded, though it can still cause irritation if it presses into surrounding soft tissue.

The image depicts a comparison between a healthy foot and one with a prominent foot ulcer, highlighting the condition's visible effects.

AI-generated content may be incorrect.

Heel spurs affect about 10% of the population, making them one of the more common foot conditions around, though most people who have one don’t know it. The spur develops gradually — usually over months or even years — as the body deposits calcium in response to chronic stress at that heel attachment point. Think of it less as damage and more as your skeleton’s attempt at reinforcement.

What Causes Them?
The underlying driver is repetitive mechanical stress on the foot. Heel spurs are particularly associated with strains on foot muscles and ligaments, stretching of the plantar fascia, and repeated small tears in the membrane covering the heel bone. Athletes who do a lot of running and jumping are especially prone.

But you don’t need to be an elite runner to develop one. Walking gait problems — particularly overpronation, where the foot rolls inward — place uneven stress on the heel with each step. Worn-out or poorly fitted shoes, which fail to absorb shock or support the arch, compound the problem. Obesity increases the mechanical load on the heel. Occupations that require prolonged standing or walking on hard surfaces put the plantar fascia under constant tension. And as people age, tendons and ligaments lose their elasticity, making the tissues more vulnerable to micro-tears and the subsequent bony repair response.

Heel spurs are also closely connected to a condition most people have heard of: plantar fasciitis. The two are related a but not identical. Plantar fasciitis is inflammation of the plantar fascia itself, usually from overuse. A heel spur can develop as a downstream consequence of that inflammation — the body lays down extra bone in response to the ongoing stress at the fascia’s attachment point.

Symptoms — or the Lack Thereof
Here’s the part that surprises most people: the majority of heel spurs cause no symptoms at all, and many are discovered incidentally on X-rays taken for other reasons. Only about 5% of heel spurs are estimated to be symptomatic.

When a heel spur does produce symptoms, the experience is heavily intertwined with plantar fasciitis. The classic description is a sharp, stabbing pain on the bottom of the foot first thing in the morning, or after any prolonged rest. Many people compare it to stepping on a tack. Paradoxically, this pain often eases somewhat after walking around for a few minutes, only to return after extended time on the feet or after another rest. It’s that “worse in the morning” quality that tends to be the giveaway.

Other symptoms, when present, can include localized swelling, warmth, and tenderness along the front of the heel, as well as increased sensitivity on the underside of the foot. It’s worth noting that the pain associated with a heel spur is not generally thought to come from the bony spur itself, but from the irritation it causes in the surrounding soft tissue — tendons, ligaments, and bursae.

How Is It Diagnosed?
Diagnosis typically begins with a physical exam. Your doctor or podiatrist will ask about when the pain started, what activities preceded it, and what makes it better or worse. They’ll examine your foot for tenderness at specific points, assess your range of motion, and check foot alignment and press on key areas to locate the source of pain.

Imaging confirms the picture. An X-ray can clearly show the bony spur and is the most commonly used test. That said, the size of the spur on an X-ray doesn’t necessarily correspond to how much pain a patient is experiencing — a small spur can be quite painful while a large one may cause no trouble at all. In more complex cases, an MRI may be ordered to assess the soft tissues more closely and evaluate whether plantar fasciitis or another condition is also in play.

Treatment Options
The reassuring news is that the vast majority of cases resolve without surgery. More than 90% of patients improve with nonsurgical treatment. The catch is that conservative management requires patience — improvement typically takes weeks, and more stubborn cases can take months.

The cornerstone of treatment is rest and reducing the activities that provoke pain. This doesn’t necessarily mean completely stopping exercise; low-impact alternatives like swimming, cycling, or rowing allow you to stay active while giving the heel a break from impact. Icing the bottom of the foot after activity helps manage inflammation. Over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medications like ibuprofen or naproxen can provide relief, though they’re intended for short-term use.

Footwear matters enormously. Supportive shoes with good arch support, cushioning, and a slight heel rise reduce the strain on the plantar fascia. Custom orthotics with molded insoles designed to redistribute pressure across the foot are often recommended, particularly for people with gait abnormalities or flat feet. Physical therapy can be part of the treatment plan, focusing on stretching the calf muscles and plantar fascia, strengthening the foot’s intrinsic muscles, and correcting biomechanical issues.

For cases that don’t respond to these initial measures, the next tier of treatment includes corticosteroid injections to reduce inflammation at the spur site, and extracorporeal shockwave therapy — a non-invasive procedure that uses sound waves to stimulate healing in chronically inflamed tissue. Surgery is reserved for the minority of cases where conservative treatment fails after nine to twelve months. Possible complications include nerve pain, infection, scarring, and — with plantar fascia release — the risk of foot instability or stress fracture. Most orthopedic surgeons regard surgery as a last resort.

Are Heel Spurs Debilitating?
For most people, the honest answer is: no. Heel spurs are a common condition with a favorable prognosis, especially with early diagnosis and appropriate management. Many people live with heel spurs for years without ever knowing it, and even those who develop pain typically find substantial relief with conservative treatment within four to eight weeks.
That said, the pain at its worst — particularly in conjunction with plantar fasciitis — can be genuinely disruptive to daily life. Athletes may find their training significantly limited. People who spend long hours on their feet at work may struggle with sustained discomfort. And a small percentage of patients do end up with prolonged, treatment-resistant pain that affects mobility. So, the more accurate framing might be: heel spurs have the potential to be significantly uncomfortable and functionally limiting during flare-ups, but with proper treatment most people recover well and return to normal activity.

Heel Spurs and the Vietnam-Era Draft
Which brings us to an improbable chapter in heel spur history. During the Vietnam War era, heel spurs became — for at least one famous case — a ticket out of military service. Understanding how that worked requires a brief detour into the draft system of the 1960s and 1970s, and what it meant to receive a medical deferment.
According to the National Archives, of the roughly 27 million American men eligible for military service between 1964 and 1973, about 15 million were granted deferments — mostly for education, and some for mental or physical problems — while only 2,215,000 were actually drafted into service—another eight million volunteered. Some of those who later served had previously had deferments. The system was sprawling, complex, and — as was widely acknowledged even at the time — deeply unequal.
Roughly 60% of draft-eligible American men took some sort of action to avoid military conscription. There were many routes: college deferments, fatherhood, conscientious objector status (170,000 men received those alone), National Guard enlistment, and medical exemptions. Medical deferments covered a wide range of conditions — from serious chronic illness to conditions that, in a different context, most people would consider minor. Flat feet, poor eyesight, asthma, and yes, bone spurs all appeared on the list of potentially disqualifying ailments.
The system was known to favor men with access to money, education, and well-connected physicians. American forces in Vietnam were 55% working-class and 25% poor — reflecting those who didn’t have the means to navigate the deferment labyrinth. A working-class kid from rural West Virginia was far more likely to end up in the Mekong Delta than the son of a New York real estate developer.

The Most Famous Heel Spur in American History
Which leads, inevitably, to Donald Trump. As confirmed by Selective Service records obtained and reported by multiple news outlets, Trump received five Vietnam-era draft deferments — four for college attendance at Fordham and the Wharton School, and a fifth in 1968, recorded as a medical deferment for bone spurs in his heels. The medical classification left him disqualified for military service.

The circumstances surrounding the diagnosis have been contested ever since. Reporting by the New York Times included accounts from the daughters of a Queens podiatrist named Larry Braunstein, who alleged that their father had provided or vouched for the diagnosis as a professional favor to Trump’s father, Fred Trump — a landlord to whom Braunstein reportedly owed a debt of gratitude. Trump’s former lawyer Michael Cohen also testified that Trump had admitted to fabricating the injury. Trump himself has maintained that the diagnosis was legitimate, stating that a doctor “gave me a letter — a very strong letter — on the heels.” The underlying medical records that would resolve the dispute are, conveniently, not publicly available; most individual Selective Service medical records from that era were subsequently destroyed.

It’s worth noting that Trump’s pattern — using legal channels, including a medical deferment of questionable validity, to avoid Vietnam service — was not unique to him. Historians have pointed out that numerous prominent figures on both sides of the political aisle received deferments of various kinds, including Joe Biden (asthma), Dick Cheney (student deferments), Bill Clinton (navigated the ROTC system), and George W. Bush (National Guard). The heel spur episode became politically charged in part because of Trump’s later hawkish rhetoric and his outspokenness in questioning the military service of others — most notably Senator John McCain, who spent years as a prisoner of war in North Vietnam.

How Many People Got Heel Spur Deferments?
This is where the historical record hits a hard wall. No reliable statistics exist specifically for heel spur deferments. The Selective Service tracked broad categories — student deferments, hardship deferments, conscientious objector status, medical disqualifications — but it did not publish a breakdown by specific diagnosis, and most individual medical records from that era no longer exist.

What we can say is that bone spurs were a recognized medical disqualifier under Selective Service regulations, that medical deferments broadly were a commonly used — and commonly abused — avenue for avoiding service, and that the process was heavily influenced by access to sympathetic physicians. A man with means, connections, and a cooperative podiatrist had options that a man without those resources did not.

The honest answer, then, is that we don’t know how many men received deferments citing heel spurs specifically, and we almost certainly never will. The data either wasn’t tracked at that level of granularity or was long since destroyed. What we do know is that the condition became, for a time, a lens through which Americans examined something much larger: who serves, who doesn’t, and whether the systems meant to govern those decisions are applied fairly.

For most people, a heel spur is a manageable, if annoying, footnote in the story of their health. For at least one person, it became a footnote in the history of American politics.

Personal Note: I have heel spurs; I wish I’d known about them in 1967.

Images generated by author using AI.

Medical Sources
Cleveland Clinic — Heel Spurs overview
https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/21965-heel-spurs
WebMD — Heel Spur Causes, Symptoms, Treatments, and Surgery
https://www.webmd.com/pain-management/heel-spurs-pain-causes-symptoms-treatments
Hackensack Meridian Health — Bone Spurs in the Heel: Symptoms and Recovery
https://www.hackensackmeridianhealth.org/en/healthier-you/2024/01/02/bone-spurs-in-the-heel-symptoms-and-recovery
OrthoArkansas — Heel Spurs
https://www.orthoarkansas.com/heel-spurs-orthoarkansas/
EmergeOrtho — Heel Bone Spurs: Causes, Symptoms, Treatment
https://emergeortho.com/news/heel-bone-spurs/
American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons — Plantar Fasciitis and Bone Spurs
https://orthoinfo.aaos.org/en/diseases–conditions/plantar-fasciitis-and-bone-spurs/
Vietnam Draft & Military Service Sources
History.com — 7 Ways Americans Avoided the Draft During the Vietnam War
https://www.history.com/articles/vietnam-war-draft-avoiding
Wikipedia — Draft Evasion in the Vietnam War
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draft_evasion_in_the_Vietnam_War
Wikipedia — Conscription in the United States
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conscription_in_the_United_States
Students of History — The Draft and the Vietnam War
https://www.studentsofhistory.com/vietnam-war-draft
University of Michigan — The Military Draft During the Vietnam War
https://michiganintheworld.history.lsa.umich.edu/antivietnamwar/exhibits/show/exhibit/draft_protests/the-military-draft-during-the-
Vietnam Veterans of America Chapter 310 — Vietnam War Statistics
https://www.vva310.org/vietnam-war-statistics
Vietnam Veterans of Foreign Wars — Fact vs. Fiction: The Vietnam Veteran
https://www.vvof.org/factsvnv.htm
New York City Vietnam Veterans Plaza — Interesting Facts About Vietnam
https://www.vietnamveteransplaza.com/interesting-facts-about-vietnam/

Medical Disclaimer
The information provided in this article is intended for general educational and informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. It should not be used as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.
Always seek the guidance of a qualified healthcare provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition or treatment. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have read here.
If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or your local emergency number immediately.
The author of this article is a licensed physician, but the views expressed here are solely those of the author and do not represent the official position of any hospital, health system, or medical organization with which the author may be affiliated.

Lady Liberty: The Statue We Think We Know

By John Turley

On April 14, 2026

In Commentary, History, Politics

Collection of the author

Ask most Americans what the Statue of Liberty means and they’ll say the same thing: she welcomes immigrants. She is the “Mother of Exiles,” keeper of the golden door. That image is so deeply woven into the national identity that it has been quoted, protested, and debated for more than a century. The only problem is that it wasn’t what her creators originally intended.

The story begins in 1865, just weeks after the Civil War ended, at a dinner party near Versailles. The host was Édouard de Laboulaye, a French historian and president of the French Anti-Slavery Society. Laboulaye was one of France’s most passionate admirers of American democracy and was deeply moved by both Lincoln’s assassination and the abolition of slavery. He proposed that France present the United States with a colossal monument — one that would celebrate two things at once: the centennial of American independence and the end of slavery.

Sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi was at that dinner and took the idea and ran with it. Early models from around 1870 show Lady Liberty with her right arm raised — familiar enough — but in her left hand she holds broken shackles, not a tablet. The anti-slavery message was unmistakable.

That symbolism didn’t entirely disappear from the final design — it just got moved. According to the National Park Service, Bartholdi placed a broken chain and shackle at the statue’s feet, hidden beneath the copper drapery. Most visitors never notice it. The left hand now holds a tablet inscribed with the date of the Declaration of Independence.

Why the change? NYU historian Edward Berenson points to the political climate of the 1880s. By the time the statue was dedicated in October 1886 — more than 20 years after Laboulaye’s dinner — Reconstruction had collapsed, Jim Crow was spreading, and the country was trying to paper over sectional wounds by quietly forgetting the war’s racial roots. Nobody at the dedication mentioned slavery. The abolitionist origins were simply buried.

The statue was formally named Liberty Enlightening the World and the message broadened toward Franco-American friendship and American liberty in general rather than emancipation specifically.

Then came Emma Lazarus, and the second transformation. In 1883, a fundraiser struggling to pay for the statue’s pedestal asked prominent writers to donate works for an auction. Lazarus, a Jewish-American poet, initially declined as she was then deeply involved in aiding Jewish refugees fleeing wide-spread and organized violence in Russia. A friend persuaded her that the statue, sitting at the entrance to New York Harbor, would inevitably be seen as a beacon by arriving immigrants. She wrote “The New Colossus” — fourteen lines that reimagined Lady Liberty entirely, as a “Mother of Exiles” beckoning the world’s tired and poor to America’s golden door.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Strangely, the poem then vanished. It played no role at the statue’s 1886 dedication. Lazarus died in 1887, before Ellis Island even opened. It wasn’t until 1903 that a friend had the entire poem cast onto a bronze plaque that was mounted inside the pedestal——not engraved on the outside as many believe. By then, millions of immigrants had already sailed past the statue on their way to Ellis Island, and the association with immigration had taken hold in the public imagination.

The immigration meaning deepened through the early 20th century as the government used the statue’s image in campaigns to assimilate immigrant children, many of whom lived in ethnic enclaves in large eastern cities. Meanwhile, the abolitionist symbolism that had inspired the project in the first place faded almost entirely from public memory.

The broken shackles are still there, tucked under her robe, mostly invisible. Lady Liberty has been continuously reinterpreted for 160 years — by abolitionists, by a poet responding to a refugee crisis, by politicians, and by millions of people who looked up at that torch from the deck of a ship. Will Lady Liberty and her words continue to offer welcome and hope and be a source of national pride or is her meaning once again being rewritten as a symbol of American identity, dominance, and, perhaps, exclusion?

The Statue’s shackles and feet. National Park Service, Statue of Liberty NM, Public Domain

Sources

National Park Service – Statue of Liberty history: https://www.nps.gov/stli/learn/historyculture/statue-of-liberty.htm Library of Congress – Dedication and speeches: https://www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200197394/ Cleveland, Grover. Dedication Address (1886): https://www.nps.gov/stli/learn/historyculture/cleveland.htm Smithsonian Magazine – History of the Statue of Liberty: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/statue-liberty-180970340/

The Marble Statue Problem: Why Half the Story Is No Story at All

By John Turley

On March 12, 2026

In Commentary, History, Politics

A Commentary on Selective American History

There is a version of American history that looks spectacular. Founding Fathers on horseback, industrialists building steel empires from nothing, pioneers pushing west into open lands. It is the kind of history that gets carved into marble, hoisted onto pedestals, and taught as national mythology. Clean. Inspiring. Incomplete. And right now, there is a visible push by some politicians, curriculum reformers, and commentators to make that marble-statue version the only version — to scrub away what one American Historical Association report called the “inconvenient” truths that complicate the picture. What we lose in that scrubbing is not just accuracy. We lose the full human story of this country, and with it, the lessons that might be useful today.

The selective telling is not new, but its current form has new energy. In recent years, legislation has been introduced across multiple states to restrict how teachers discuss slavery, Indigenous displacement, immigration history, and the treatment of women and the poor. The argument is usually dressed up as national unity and pride. But the practical effect is something else: a history curriculum where triumph and innovation are permissible but suffering and exploitation are edited out.

Historians surveying American teachers in 2024 found this impulse reflected in the classroom as well — students arriving with what teachers described as a “marble statues” version of history absorbed from earlier grades, one that freezes the Founders and other heroes in idealized civic memory, stripped of contradiction. The pitch is usually framed as morale: kids need pride and self esteem, not “division.” But the practical effect is a kind of historical editing that turns real people—enslaved Americans, Native communities, women, immigrants, and the poor—into background scenery rather than participants with agency, suffering, and claims on the national memory.

You can see the argument playing out in education policy and curriculum fights. The “patriotic education” push associated with the federal 1776 Commission is a clear example: it cast some approaches to teaching slavery and racism as inherently “anti-American,” and it encouraged a narrative that stresses national ideals while softening the lived realities that contradicted those ideals.

Historians’ organizations have answered back that this kind of narrowing doesn’t create unity so much as it creates amnesia. At the state level, controversies over how to describe or contextualize slavery—down to euphemisms and selective framing—keep resurfacing, because controlling the vocabulary controls the moral takeaway. Florida’s education standards went so far as to compare slavery with job training.

The tension between celebratory and critical history also appears in how we interpret national symbols. The Statue of Liberty, now widely read as a welcoming beacon for immigrants, was originally conceived in significant part as a commemoration of the end of slavery in the United States and of the nation’s centennial. Over time, its antislavery meaning was overshadowed by a more comfortable story about voluntary immigration and opportunity as official imagery and public campaigns recast the statue to fit new national needs. This shift did not merely “add” an interpretation; it obscured the connection between American liberty and Black emancipation, pushing aside the reality that millions arrived in chains rather than by choice.

The deeper problem isn’t that Americans disagree about the past—healthy societies argue about meaning all the time. The problem is when disagreement becomes a one-way ratchet: complexity gets labeled “bias,” and only a feel-good storyline qualifies as “neutral.” That’s not neutral. That’s a choice to privilege certain experiences as representative and treat others as “inconvenient.”

Nowhere does this distortion show up more clearly than in how Americans tend to celebrate the industrialists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries — the Gilded Age titans who built railroads, steel mills, and oil empires. Andrew Carnegie, John D. Rockefeller, J.P. Morgan, Cornelius Vanderbilt: these men are frequently held up as models of American ambition and ingenuity, visionaries who transformed a post-Civil War nation into the world’s dominant industrial power. And they did do that. But the marble-statue version stops there, and stopping there is where the dishonesty begins.

Look at what powered that industrial machine: coal. And look at who powered coal. The men — and children — who went underground every day to dig it out of the earth under conditions that were, by any modern standard, a form of institutionalized violence. Between 1880 and 1923, more than 70,000 coal miners died on the job in the United States. That is not a rounding error; it is a small city’s worth of human lives, consumed by an industry that knew the dangers and chose profits over protection. Cave-ins, gas explosions, machinery accidents, and the slow suffocation of black lung took miners in ones and twos on ordinary days, and in mass casualties during what miners grimly called “explosion season” — when dry winter air made methane and coal dust especially volatile. Three major mine disasters in the first decade of the 1900s killed 201, 362, and 239 miners respectively, the latter two occurring within two weeks of each other.

And those were the adults. In the anthracite coal fields of Pennsylvania alone, an estimated 20,000 boys were working as “breaker boys” in 1880 — children as young as eight years old, perched above chutes and conveyor belts for ten hours a day, six days a week, picking slate and impurities out of rushing coal with bare hands. The coal dust was so thick at times it obscured their view. Photographer Lewis Hine documented these children in the early 1900s specifically because he understood that seeing them — their coal-blackened faces, their missing fingers, their flat eyes — was the only way to make comfortable Americans confront the total cost of the industrial miracle. Pennsylvania passed a law in 1885 banning children under twelve from working in coal breakers. The law was routinely ignored; employers forged age documents and desperate families went along with it because the wages, however meager, kept families from starving.

Coal mining is a representative case study because the work was both essential and punishing, and because the labor conflicts were not metaphorical—they were sometimes literally armed. In the coalfields, many miners lived in company towns where the company controlled the housing and the local economy. Some workers were paid in “scrip” redeemable only at the company store, a system that locked families into dependency and debt. When union organizing surged, the backlash could be violent. West Virginia’s Mine Wars culminated in the Battle of Blair Mountain in 1921—widely described as the largest labor uprising in U.S. history—where thousands of miners confronted company-aligned forces and state power. The mine owners deployed heavy machine guns and hired private pilots to drop arial bombs on the miners.

If you zoom out, this pattern wasn’t limited to coal. The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911 became infamous partly because locked doors and poor safety practices trapped workers—mostly young immigrant women—leading to 146 deaths in minutes.

When workers tried to organize for better pay and safer conditions, the response from the industrialists and their allies was not negotiation. It was force. Henry Clay Frick, chairman at Carnegie Steel, cut worker wages in half while increasing shifts to twelve hours, then hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency — effectively a private army — to break the strike that followed at Homestead, PA in 1892. During the Great Railroad Strike of 1877, when workers walked off the job across the country, state militias were called in. In Maryland, militia fired into a crowd of strikers, killing eleven. In Pittsburgh, twenty more were killed with bayonets and rifle fire. A railroad executive of the era, asked about hungry striking workers, reportedly suggested they be given “a rifle diet for a few days” to see how they liked it. Throughout this period the federal government largely sided with capital against labor.

This is the part of the story that the marble-statue version leaves out — and not because it is marginal. The labor movement that emerged from these battles shaped virtually every protection American workers have today: the eight-hour workday, child labor laws, workplace safety regulations, the right to organize. These were not gifts handed down by generous industrialists. They were won through strikes, suffering, and in some cases, death. Ignoring that history does not honor the industrialists. It dishonors the workers.

The same pattern runs through every thread of American history that is currently under pressure. The story of westward expansion is incomplete without the story of Native displacement and the deliberate destruction of Indigenous cultures. The story of American agriculture is incomplete without the story of enslaved labor and the systems of racial control that followed emancipation. The story of American prosperity is incomplete without the story of immigrant communities channeled into the most dangerous, lowest-paid work and then told to be grateful for the opportunity. Women’s history, for most of American history, was not considered history at all. In each case, leaving out the difficult chapter does not produce a cleaner story. It produces a false one.

The argument for the marble-statue version is usually that complexity is demoralizing — that children need heroes, that citizens need pride, that a nation cannot function if it is constantly relitigating its worst moments. There is something in that concern worth taking seriously. History taught purely as a catalog of grievances is not good history either. But the answer to that problem is not to swap one distortion for another. Good history holds both: the genuine achievement and the genuine cost. Mark Twain understood this when he coined “The Gilded Age” — a title that means literally covered in a thin layer of gold over something much cheaper underneath. That phrase has been in the American vocabulary for 150 years because it captures something true about how surfaces can deceive.

A country that cannot look honestly at its own history is a country that will keep repeating the parts it refuses to examine. The enslaved deserve to be in the story. Indigenous people deserve to be in the story. Women deserve to be in the story. The breaker boys deserve to be in the story. The miners killed by the thousands deserve to be in the story. The workers shot by militias while asking for a living wage deserve to be in the story. Not because the story should only be about suffering, but because they were there — and because understanding what they faced, and what they fought for, and what they eventually changed, is how the story makes sense.

Illustration generated by author using ChatGPT.

Sources

American Historical Association. “American Lesson Plan: Curricular Content.” 2024.
https://www.historians.org/teaching-learning/k-12-education/american-lesson-plan/curricular-content/

Brewminate. “Replaceable Lives and Labor Abuse in the Gilded Age: Labor Exploitation and the Human Cost in America’s Gilded Age.” 2026.
https://brewminate.com/replaceable-lives-and-labor-abuse-in-the-gilded-age/

Bureau of Labor Statistics. “History of Child Labor in the United States, Part 1.” 2017.
https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/2017/article/history-of-child-labor-in-the-united-states-part-1.htm

Energy History Project, Yale University. “Coal Mining and Labor Conflict.”
https://energyhistory.yale.edu/coal-mining-and-labor-conflict/

Hannah-Jones, Nikole, et al. “A Brief History of Slavery That You Didn’t Learn in School.” New York Times Magazine. 2019.
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/08/14/magazine/slavery-capitalism.html

Investopedia. “The Gilded Age Explained: An Era of Wealth and Inequality.” 2025.
https://www.investopedia.com/terms/g/gilded-age.asp

MLPP Pressbooks. “Gilded Age Labor Conflict.”
https://mlpp.pressbooks.pub/ushistory2/chapter/chapter-1/

Princeton School of Public and International Affairs. “Princeton SPIA Faculty Reflect on America’s Past as 250th Anniversary Approaches.” 2026.
https://spia.princeton.edu/

USA Today. “Millions of Native People Were Enslaved in the Americas. Their Story Is Rarely Told.” 2025.
https://www.usatoday.com/

Wikipedia. “Breaker Boy.”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breaker_boy

Wikipedia. “Robber Baron (Industrialist).”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robber_baron_(industrialist)

America250 (U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission). “America250: The United States Semiquincentennial.”
https://www.america250.org/

Bunk History (citing Washington Post reporting). “The Statue of Liberty Was Created to Celebrate Freed Slaves, Not Immigrants.”
https://www.bunkhistory.org/

Upworthy. “The Statue of Liberty Is a Symbol of Welcoming Immigrants. That’s Not What She Was Originally Meant to Be.” 2026.
https://www.upworthy.com/

Grumpy opinions about everything.

Category: Commentary Page 1 of 16

America at 250: A Revolution Remembered, Forgotten — or Rewritten?

A Celebration Gets Complicated

When “Restoring History” Means Removing It

The Money Problem

What Actually Happened at Lexington and Concord

The Founding Fathers Were Not a Monolith

Resistance in the Courts and in the Institutions

What We Can Do

The Stakes

Sources

You Are Pre-Approved!

The Numbers: A Blizzard of Pre-Approval

The Average American: Already Carrying Quite Enough, Thank You

Senior Citizens: A Special Kind of Target

Scenario One: The Comfortable Retiree

Scenario Two: The Social Security-Only Retiree

Scenario Three: The Affluent Senior

The Ultimate Power Move: Apply for All of Them

The Bottom Line: A Comedy in Several Acts

Is the Roberts Court Biased? The Pattern Speaks for Itself

The Persecution Brand: How Trump Turns Grievance Into Political Currency

Announcing a New Feature

The One True Gospel of Wellness

The Accidental Footnote: Heel Spurs, the Vietnam Draft, and American Inequality

Lady Liberty: The Statue We Think We Know

The Marble Statue Problem: Why Half the Story Is No Story at All