The American legal system was designed to be the great stabilizer of our Republic — a structure of rules written in daylight, debated openly, passed by elected representatives, signed by presidents, and ultimately checked by the courts. These laws were meant to be binding on everyone, regardless of mood or moment. Yet we increasingly find ourselves living in a country where the law is treated not as a foundation but as a suggestion — sacred when politically advantageous, disposable when not.
A growing portion of the Left now protests not against unjust laws, but against the enforcement of laws they simply dislike.
This selective legalism sends a stark message: law is whatever we say it is, today. If a statute serves ideological purposes, it is wielded with maximal force. If it complicates a preferred narrative, it is ignored, undermined, or denounced until public pressure renders it inert. Ask what a law means, and the answer depends less on the text than on the temperament of those who claim interpretive authority. The ground shifts beneath us: today’s enforcement priority is tomorrow’s moral outrage.
It is not surprising, then, that talk of a “living Constitution” alarms many Americans. If basic laws can be nullified by protest, what would happen if the Constitution itself were placed on similar ideological stilts? A charter meant to restrain government could instead become a political tool — flexible enough to justify anything and rigid only when convenient.
Much of today’s national unease, often blamed on Donald Trump, actually stems from this collapse of legal consistency. The public senses that something essential is eroding: the expectation that rules apply the same way on Monday as they did on Sunday, and the same to political allies as to political opponents. In the absence of dependable law, people instinctively feel less safe — because they are less safe.
Recently, a disturbing case went viral. It came from New York City and illustrates the problem with harsh clarity. A 67-year-old man received a four-year prison sentence on Friday — not for killing a mugger (he was rightly cleared of homicide) but for the “process crime” of possessing an unregistered firearm. Social media framed it as persecution of an elderly man defending himself, and while the reality is more legally nuanced, the underlying context is impossible to ignore. The mugger he shot had at least 15 prior arrests stretching back two decades, along with a documented record of mental instability. Yet he roamed the streets freely until the moment he attacked someone.
This is the essence of anarcho-tyranny: the state proves unable or unwilling to restrain the violent yet punishes ordinary citizens with zeal when they attempt to protect themselves. New York’s treatment of the defender stands in stark contrast to its indulgence toward the chronic offender.
Meanwhile, a dozen or so states continue to enforce “duty to retreat” doctrines that require citizens to flee — if possible — before using deadly force. The political class that cannot keep violent recidivists off the streets now demands that law-abiding citizens behave like prey.
The Democrats’ favorite “guilty of 34 felonies” chant against President Trump was another example. Manhattan DA Alvin Bragg constructed his case by assaulting New York code and force-marrying it to federal law to concoct a litany of felony charges out of paperwork crimes that are misdemeanors at worst.
A society cannot endure if it treats its laws as playthings. Unease grows not because Americans distrust each other, but because they increasingly distrust the system meant to keep everyone safe — and equal — under the law.
