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When state authority stops serving the people but instead lords over them, stops being questioned by the media and the people, and stops fearing consequences because it lives behind a shield of immunity, a police state is inevitable.
When I read that the young mother who was executed at point-blank range by one of President Donald Trump’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement goons on Wednesday was named Renee Nicole Good, it sent a chill down my spine.
As the pain and outrage was washing through me, it also struck me as almost too much of a coincidence that she was there protesting state violence and Ben Franklin had been using the name “Silence Dogood”—as in “Do Good”—to warn American colonists about the very same dangers of state violence.
When 16-year-old Franklin slipped his first Silence Dogood essay under the door of his brother’s print shop in 1722, America had few police departments, no body cameras, no qualified immunity, and few militarized patrols prowling city streets. But young Franklin already understood the danger.
Writing as a fictional widow, Franklin warned that “nothing makes a man so cruel as the sense of his own superiority.” The remark was in the context of self-important ministers, magistrates, and petty officials, but he was also talking about raw state power itself as we saw with the execution of Renee Nicole Good.
If we want to live in the democratic republic Franklin, Paine, and Madison imagined where power is given by “the consent of the governed,” then outrage isn’t enough.
Power that is insulated, Franklin taught, answers only to itself and believes its very authority excuses the violence it uses.
Franklin’s insight didn’t die on the printed page but, rather, became the moral backbone of the American Revolution. As Do-Good, he repeatedly cautioned us that power breeds cruelty when it’s insulated from consequence, that authority becomes violent when it believes itself superior, and that free speech is usually the first casualty of abusive rule.
In "Essay No. 6", in 1722, Dogood wrote:
Whoever would overthrow the Liberty of a Nation must begin by subduing the Freeness of Speech.
Renee Nicole Good was on that Minneapolis street to express her freedom of speech, her outrage at the crimes, both moral and legal, being committed by ICE on behalf of Donald Trump, Tom Homan, Kristi Noem, and Stephen Miller.
Thomas Paine took Franklin’s warning and sharpened it into a blade. Government, Paine said, is a “necessary evil” but when it turns its legally authorized violence against its own people, it becomes “intolerable.” Authority doesn’t legitimize force, Paine argued; instead, the ability to use force without accountability inevitably corrupts authority.
And here we are. This is the ninth time ICE agents have shot into a person‘s car, and the second time they’ve killed somebody in the process.
For Paine, violence by agents of the state isn’t an aberration, it’s the default outcome when power concentrates without clear accountability. Where Franklin warned about cruelty born of a sense of superiority (as armed, masked white ICE officers search for brown people as if they were the Klan of old), Paine warned us that force will always be directed against the governed unless that power is aggressively constrained.
James Madison—the “Father of the Constitution”—then took both men at their word. He didn’t design a constitution that assumed virtue; instead, he designed one that assumed abuse.
“If men were angels, no government would be necessary,” he wrote in Federalist 51, adding, “You must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself.”
Because we and our politicians and police aren’t angels, Madison pointed out, state power must be restrained, divided, watched, and continuously challenged. Which is why the Framers of the Constitution adopted the checks-and-balances system—splitting the government into three co-equal parts—that Montesquieu recommended, based on what he had learned from the Iroquois (as I lay out in The Hidden History of American Democracy).
Franklin himself became even clearer about the threat of unaccountable state-imposed violence as he aged. Governments, he repeatedly warned, always claim violence is necessary for safety and we saw that Wednesday when puppy-killer Kristi Noem claimed that Renee Good was a “domestic terrorist.” Her comment is the perfect illustration of Franklin’s assertion that state violence, once normalized, always tries to claim justification.
To add insult to murder, Trump pathetically waddled over to his Nazi-infested social media site and claimed:
The woman driving the car was very disorderly, obstructing and resisting, who then violently, willfully, and viciously ran over the ICE Officer, who seems to have shot her in self defense. Based on the attached clip, it is hard to believe he is alive, but is now recovering in the hospital… [T]he reason these incidents are happening is because the Radical Left is threatening, assaulting, and targeting our Law Enforcement Officers and ICE Agents on a daily basis.”
Silence Dogood would have confronted him head-on, as she-Franklin repeatedly did with the petty, self-important officials of colonial New England. He repeatedly noted that surrendering liberty for a little temporary security not only doesn’t prevent state brutality but actually it invites it. In a 1759 letter, Franklin explicitly warned us about men like Donald Trump and the siren song of “law and order”:
Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.
Once a state teaches its agents that force is the solution, force becomes their habit. That’s how police states are formed out of democracies, as the citizens of Russia, Hungary, and Venezuela have all learned. And now, it appears, we’re learning as America becomes the world’s most recent police state.
This isn’t an uniquely American problem: It’s older than our republic. And Franklin told us exactly how it happens: When state authority stops serving the people but instead lords over them, stops being questioned by the media and the people, and stops fearing consequences because it lives behind a shield of immunity, a police state is inevitable.
As Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz noted Wednesday, the killing of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis wasn’t a “tragic anomaly.” It was the predictable outcome of systems Franklin would have recognized instantly; the kind of corrupt strongman systems that reward domination, excuse cruelty, and punish dissent.
Trump wants us on the “radical left” to shut up and go away. But Ben Franklin taught us that silence in the face of power isn’t neutrality but is, instead, an extension of permission. He wrote as Silence Dogood precisely because he understood that abuse flourishes when citizens turn their eyes away and lower their voices.
If we want to live in the democratic republic Franklin, Paine, and Madison imagined where power is given by “the consent of the governed,” then outrage isn’t enough. We must demand accountability, insist on transparency, and refuse to accept state violence and a firehose of official lies as the price of order.
Three centuries ago, a teenage printer’s apprentice warned us that silence enables abuse. He was right then. He is right now.
The real question is not whether Trump is allowed to use degrading language, but whether a president who does so honors the dignity of the office—or hollows it out from within.
When a president uses language that dehumanizes, it is not a matter of legality, it is a matter of dignity, and it signals who our society values. Every utterance from the Oval Office carries weight; it sets norms, authorizes behaviors, and communicates whose humanity is recognized and whose is diminished.
When President Donald Trump referred to Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz using the R-word, defenders rushed in with a familiar refrain: freedom of speech. He can say what he wants. He is protected. End of discussion.
But this is not a freedom-of-speech question. It is a freedom-of-dignity question.
Donald Trump is not a private citizen muttering into the void. He is the most powerful person in the world, speaking through a global amplifier backed by the authority of the presidency. The real question is not whether he is allowed to use degrading language, but whether a president who does so honors the dignity of the office—or hollows it out from within.
A president’s words do more than reveal character; they instruct the nation in who it is permitted to become.
Some defenders argue that only the N-word merits being reduced to an initial, that if Trump wants to use “retarded,” he can—and so can anyone else. They dismiss criticism as cancel culture, another example of Democrats weaponizing political correctness.
This defense is morally hollow. Saying, “Only the N-word counts” is an impoverished standard. Harmful language does not become acceptable simply because it targets a different group. The R-word is not neutral—it has been used for decades to demean, exclude, and dehumanize people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, reducing human beings to a punchline or a flaw.
This is not about partisan loyalty or performative outrage. It is about whether we believe people deserve basic dignity regardless of disability. If you had a child, a sibling, or a close friend with an intellectual or developmental disability, would you really argue that the most powerful person in the country should be excused for using a word that has long diminished their worth? Would that feel like free speech, or like indifference?
Leadership is not only about what one is legally permitted to say. It is about what one chooses to say. Leaders set norms. When they adopt language that punches down, they grant permission for others to follow. Calling that out is not political correctness; it is a minimal ethical expectation of public leadership.
BJ Stasio, a Peer Specialist 2 with the New York State Office for People With Developmental Disabilities, explains:
When national leaders use the R-word casually, it reactivates real harm for people who were once labeled, limited, and underestimated. As someone who has lived with that label—and now leads within the disability rights movement—I know firsthand what the stigma can do.
Nicole LeBlanc, a disability employment consultant and self-advocacy adviser, underscores the emotional and systemic toll:
Seeing the R-word insult return to everyday language is enraging. Many people with autism—especially those diagnosed in adulthood—carry complex trauma histories from bullying and verbal abuse. Research shows they are more likely to be bullied than the general population, leading to high rates of PTSD, anxiety, and other challenges. People with disabilities want respect, love, acceptance, and access to services that allow us to thrive, not just survive. Using hateful language fuels negative attitudes, health disparities, and higher abuse rates. Respect is not optional.
Emauni Crawley, a behavioral health coach and disability advocate, is blunt:
The manner in which Trump articulates the R-word is not a result of ignorance. It is an act of perverseness.
Dr. Gary Schaffer, professor of school psychology, mental health counselor, author, and a person with disabilities, adds historical context:
The R-word is not neutral. It is hate speech, reducing learning and behavioral differences to something laughable and diminishing a person’s value to society. When the president of the United States uses it openly, he gives a green light to discriminate, segregate, and withhold empathy—not only from people with intellectual disabilities, but from anyone with learning or behavioral differences.
This danger is not theoretical. Prior to 1975, many students with disabilities were denied access to education entirely because they were deemed incapable of learning. Language paved the way for policy. It always does.
Max Donatelli, a US Air Force Vietnam veteran, disability advocate, and parent, put it plainly:
The public disrespect shown by this president to people with intellectual and developmental disabilities is unprecedented. Our country deserves better. As a parent and advocate, we have found it challenging to rid our language of the R-word at the local, state, and national levels. We helped New York State end its use of it in the office that administers services to people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. What was once the Office for Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities is now the Office for People with Developmental Disabilities, thanks to significant advocacy. Our wonderful son Craig, who has Down syndrome, deserves the respect and opportunities afforded all citizens. The use of this slur is a stain on this presidency that won’t be forgotten by us.
The R-word entered medical and educational usage in the late 19th and early 20th centuries as a supposedly humane replacement for earlier slurs. By the 1960s and 1970s, it had become an everyday insult. Its harm was so widespread that it was removed from professional, legal, and clinical use, replaced by terms such as intellectual disability and developmental disability. Organizations like the Special Olympics have spent decades urging the public to abandon the word entirely.
Trump’s use of it is therefore not accidental, nostalgic, or brave. It is regressive. It communicates that labeling human beings this way is acceptable—even legitimate. Taboos are ethical boundaries. When a president violates them intentionally, the violation instructs.
Words alone are dangerous. When paired with policy, the harm compounds. Rhetoric that degrades, combined with policies that strip protections, sends a clear message about whose lives are valued and whose are negotiable. Programs like SOAR, which helped people with severe mental health challenges access Social Security benefits and provided housing, healthcare, and stability. Cutting them leaves people exposed. The erosion of special education, weakening of Americans with Disabilities Act guidance, and refusal to provide real-time American Sign Language interpretation at White House events send the same message: Accessibility is optional; inclusion is an inconvenience.
Harm becomes systemic not all at once, but sentence by sentence, joke by joke, policy memo by policy memo. The erosion of dignity rarely announces itself as violence. It begins as permission—to mock, dismiss, reduce. When that permission comes from the highest office in the land, it spreads.
This is not about fragility. It is about responsibility. A president’s words do more than reveal character; they instruct the nation in who it is permitted to become. When language degrades and protections are hollowed out, dignity ceases to be shared and becomes a privilege rationed by power.
The question is no longer whether such language is legal. It is whether we will accept a politics that treats some people’s humanity as expendable, and whether we will recognize, before it spreads further, that a nation willing to bargain away dignity at the margins will eventually find it gone at the center.
"Is McCarthy’s witch hunt back?" asked Thierry Breton, a former EU commissioner now barred from entering the US.
European Union leaders and others around the world this week condemned President Donald Trump's administration for imposing a travel ban on a former EU commissioner and leaders of nongovernmental groups that fight against disinformation and hate speech—or, as US Secretary of State Marco Rubio called them, "agents of the global censorship-industrial complex."
Rubio said in a Tuesday statement that his department "is taking decisive action against five individuals who have led organized efforts to coerce American platforms to censor, demonetize, and suppress American viewpoints they oppose. These radical activists and weaponized NGOs have advanced censorship crackdowns by foreign states—in each case targeting American speakers and American companies."
The five people barred from the United States are Imran Ahmed, the British CEO of the Center for Countering Digital Hate; Clare Melford, another Brit from the Global Disinformation Index; Josephine Ballon and Anna-Lena von Hodenberg of the German group HateAid; and Thierry Breton, a French leader who helped craft the EU's Digital Services Act (DSA) as a commissioner.
"Is McCarthy’s witch hunt back?" Breton wrote on X—a social media platform that belongs to erstwhile Trump ally Elon Musk and was recently fined €120 million, or $140 million, for violating DSA's transparency obligations.
"As a reminder: 90% of the European Parliament—our democratically elected body—and all 27 member states unanimously voted the DSA," Breton noted. "To our American friends: 'Censorship isn't where you think it is.'"
As Anda Bologa, a senior researcher with the Tech Policy Program at the Center for European Policy Analysis, explained earlier this year, "the DSA tackles illegal or demonstrably harmful activity—terrorist propaganda, child sexual abuse material, and foreign-backed election meddling." The 2022 law also "mandates that platforms publish transparency reports on takedown requests, justify their decisions, and offer users appeal mechanisms."
In a Tuesday statement, the European Commission said it "strongly condemns" the US travel ban, adding: "Freedom of expression is a fundamental right in Europe and a shared core value with the United States across the democratic world. The EU is an open, rules-based single market, with the sovereign right to regulate economic activity in line with our democratic values and international commitments."
"Our digital rules ensure a safe, fair, and level playing field for all companies, applied fairly and without discrimination," the commission continued. "We have requested clarifications from the US authorities and remain engaged. If needed, we will respond swiftly and decisively to defend our regulatory autonomy against unjustified measures."
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen posted the statement on X, and various other EU leaders shared similar messages.
German Foreign Minister Johann Wadephul said that "the entry bans imposed by the USA, including those against the chairpersons of HateAid, are not acceptable. The Digital Services Act ensures that everything that is illegal offline is also illegal online."
"The DSA was democratically adopted by the EU for the EU—it does not have extraterritorial effect," he continued. "We intend to address other interpretations fundamentally with the USA in the transatlantic dialogue, in order to strengthen our partnership."
The German campaigners, Ballon and von Hodenberg, said in a statement that "we will not be intimidated by a government that uses accusations of censorship to silence those who stand up for human rights and freedom of expression."
French President Emmanuel Macron said Wednesday that "I have just spoken with Thierry Breton and thanked him for his significant contributions in the service of Europe. We will stand firm against pressure and will protect Europeans."
Agnès Callamard, the secretary general of Amnesty International—which supports the DSA—wrote on X: "Now the US is sanctioning a former EU official and several heads of NGOs monitoring hate speech and disinformation—on the ground that they are censoring American speech! Laughable. Social media platforms must be regulated. Better and more. Not less."
Due to Brexit, the DSA notably does not apply to the United Kingdom, but that didn't spare the two UK campaigners targeted by the Trump administration. A spokesperson from Melford's group told the BBC that "the visa sanctions announced today are an authoritarian attack on free speech and an egregious act of government censorship."
"The Trump administration is, once again, using the full weight of the federal government to intimidate, censor, and silence voices they disagree with," the spokeperson added. "Their actions today are immoral, unlawful, and un-American."
Tom Malinowski, a former Democratic congressman from New Jersey running to return to the House of Reprentatives, called out the State Deparment he previously served in under the Obama administration for sanctioning leaders of groups "that flag instances of antisemitism, harm to children, deep fakes, and vaccine disinformation online."
"Most Americans want online platforms that are safer for our kids, with less hateful and harmful content," he added. "It is not censorship to urge social media and AI companies to enforce their own rules against these things! The State Department's action is a blatant attack on free speech."
Earlier this month, the US advocacy group Free Press released a report detailing Trump's "war on free speech" based on "more than 500 reports of verbal threats, executive orders, presidential memoranda, statements from the White House, actions by regulators and agencies, military and law enforcement deployment and activities, litigation, removal of website language on .gov websites, removal of official history and information at national parks and museums, and discontinued data collection by the federal government."
The report says that "while the US government has made efforts throughout this nation's history to censor people's expression and association—be it the exercise of freedom of speech, religion, press, assembly, or the right to petition the government for redress—the Trump administration's incessant attacks on even the most tentatively oppositional speech are uniquely aggressive, pervasive, and escalating."