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Corporations Are People, My Friend: Is the President a Monkey, a Plate of Lasagna, or a Potted Plant?

Looking at American politics over the last decade, it’s clear that the mechanics of power have shifted from governing to serving the interests of those who hold the purse strings. The presidency, once imagined as a position of leadership and vision, has increasingly become a tool for personal enrichment, political expediency, and compliance with entrenched […]

Looking at American politics over the last decade, it’s clear that the mechanics of power have shifted from governing to serving the interests of those who hold the purse strings. The presidency, once imagined as a position of leadership and vision, has increasingly become a tool for personal enrichment, political expediency, and compliance with entrenched corporate and ideological interests.

Take the Republican Party as a case study. Long before Donald J. Trump entered the national stage, figures like Grover Norquist were refreshingly blunt about the party’s priorities. Norquist, the anti-tax activist and founder of Americans for Tax Reform, used a colorful analogy to express what he considered the minimum requirements for a Republican president. He famously stated that he would accept a monkey, a plate of lasagna, or a potted plant as the GOP nominee. Why? In Norquist’s own words, “We just need a president to sign this stuff. We don’t need someone to think it up or design it.” The “stuff” refers to conservative legislation and policies favored by the GOP Congress and the broader conservative movement. Norquist’s philosophy is simple and stark: the president’s primary role is not to govern creatively but to act as an executive rubber-stamping the legislation passed by the Republican-controlled Congress, particularly bills aimed at reducing government size and cutting taxes.

This philosophy is consistent with other statements by Norquist, including his infamous remark, “I don’t want to abolish government. I simply want to reduce it to the size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub.” As author David Frum notes, Norquist’s CPAC speech was “charmingly blunt.” While he might have been grudgingly satisfied with Mitt Romney as president, the underlying point was clear: the GOP doesn’t need a thinker in the White House, just a signatory. Leadership and policy design, in Norquist’s view, emanate from Congress and the party’s wealthy backers, not the executive.

Trump’s presidency, and the loyalty he continues to command from certain GOP factions, exemplifies this dynamic. Beyond the personality-driven spectacle and media controversies, one measurable outcome went largely unnoticed: Trump’s personal wealth skyrocketed during his time in office. The optics of accruing such personal financial gain while holding public office highlight a disturbing trend—public service as a vehicle for private enrichment. While some analysts, such as David Cay Johnston, attempt to parse the mechanics of this wealth, the broader lesson remains: the presidency has become a platform to expand personal fortune, often at the expense of ordinary citizens.

Norquist’s ideology, echoed by influential conservative financiers, underscores a key truth about modern governance: the levers of real power often lie outside the presidency. Paul Ryan’s budget, among other legislative priorities, demonstrates that tax reductions for the wealthy, deregulation, and corporate-friendly policies are the central goals. Social conservatism, cultural debates, and ideological rhetoric serve largely as distractions, keeping the base engaged while policies favor the economic elite. In this system, the president—whether Romney, Trump, or any compliant placeholder—serves as the ceremonial enforcer rather than the architect of policy.

The consequences for small businesses and local communities are severe. While corporate interests thrive under these arrangements, smaller enterprises struggle against rising costs, monopolistic pressures, and legislation designed to favor large players. The era of the small business owner as an economic engine is increasingly fleeting. Wealth consolidation at the top, enabled by compliant political leadership, creates an environment where national policies cater to profit rather than public good.

The electorate often engages with these dynamics emotionally or culturally rather than economically. Issues like morality, identity, or symbolic politics dominate public debate, while the actual levers of power—tax policy, regulatory oversight, and legislative priorities—are being directed by donors and party elites. The billionaire backers of candidates are less concerned with ideology or public service than with policies that enrich them and reduce their tax burdens. All other rhetoric is performative, designed to maintain voter engagement and legitimacy.

For citizens seeking to understand and navigate these realities, awareness is critical. Recognizing how economic policies affect communities, corporations, and local businesses is a first step toward demanding accountability. Resources that highlight family-friendly activities and civic engagement can also provide insight into how local economies and communities are impacted by broader policy decisions.

The lesson is stark: political leadership alone is not enough. Corporate influence, structural accountability, and an informed electorate are necessary to ensure governance serves the many, not just the few at the top. Until those checks exist, the cycle of wealth accumulation through public office will continue, leaving ordinary citizens watching as fortunes grow and policies cater to private gain rather than public welfare.