The Courts Made Their Bed

For decades, the judiciary insisted they were an untouchable institution, a lode-bearing pillar of democracy. They expected deference, demanded respect, and basked in the illusion of their own impartiality. When they made decisions that emboldened the powerful, they called it jurisprudence. When they struck down laws meant to protect the vulnerable, they called it constitutionalism. They built a social order in which the courts were above reproach while their rulings hacked out paths for billionaires to run wild and fascists to consolidate power.

And now? Now, they're the victims. Now they're under attack—because the monster they helped unleash is turning on them.

It's not a bug. It's the system working exactly as they allowed it to.

When the Trump administration gutted USAID, Judge Theodore Chuang was forced to step in, blocking Elon Musk's unconstitutional Department of Government Efficiency from fully dismantling America's foreign aid apparatus. Musk—an unelected billionaire man-child and deadbeat Dad granted extraordinary power to wreck government agencies like a child smashing his toys—openly boasted that he had "fed USAID into the wood chipper." It was only when the courts belatedly intervened that some level of order was restored. But the damage was already done. Lives were already lost. Global humanitarian programs were already in chaos.

And what was the White House's response? To paint the courts as the real villains. The Trump administration, through its spokesperson, accused "rogue judges" of subverting the will of the people. They promised to fight back against "activist judges." They smeared a federal judge for doing the bare minimum: applying the Constitution to prevent an obvious and illegal seizure of power. This wasn't a debate over policy. It was an attempt to delegitimize the judiciary itself.

As U.S. District Judge James Boasberg ruled against Trump's deportation scheme, the president and convicted felon called for the judge's impeachment. The White House, Elon Musk, and Republican lawmakers all piled on, declaring judges enemies of democracy and demanding their removal. The Chief Justice of the United States, John Roberts, finally responded - albeit weakly and with only a semblance of a spine - cautiously scolding the notion that impeachment is an appropriate response to a judicial ruling. But does that even matter anymore? The judiciary is learning a hard lesson: When you create a system that empowers tyrants, eventually, they come for you, too.

Every chance they got, the courts rubber-stamped rightwing power grabs. They allowed voter suppression laws to pass, declaring that racism in America had magically disappeared. They blessed corporations with near-limitless political influence, gutting campaign finance laws. They crushed labor movements and struck down environmental regulations, all in the name of economic "freedom." They turned a blind eye as states gerrymandered themselves into one-party rule. They let fascists build momentum under the guise of "free speech." They gave Trump himself total immunity. They cooked their own goose.

The institution failed to stand up to power when it mattered; they don't get to suddenly demand respect when they're in the crosshairs. The courts crossed the Rubicon themselves by legitimizing a system built for the rich, by the rich, at the expense of everyone else.

None of this means that America should cheer as the judiciary is gutted. A captured judiciary is no better than a spineless one. But there is no credibility in pretending this fight is about principles or the rule of law. It’s about power. The courts chose the wrong side again and again. And now, when the stakes are existential, they expect the public to rally to their defense. They expect a system built on legitimacy to suddenly start functioning again after decades of neglect.

The courts made their bed. Now, they lie in the muck.

This is what happens when you refuse to hold the powerful accountable—eventually, you find yourself in the firing line.