The Torture of Tina Peters: Finally getting out of jail, what her story says about authority

I have long observed how power, when unchecked, resorts to the rack—not always the physical one of medieval dungeons, but the metaphorical equivalent that breaks spirits, careers, and truths until confessions align with institutional narratives. The recent case of Tina Peters, the former Mesa County Clerk in Colorado, stands as a stark modern exemplar of this ancient pattern. A seventy-year-old woman thrust into one of the most dangerous environments imaginable for someone of her age and background, she faced years of imprisonment not primarily for some violent crime, but for daring to question the machinery of an election and seeking to preserve evidence amid widespread suspicions of irregularities in 2020. Her eventual release, commuted by Governor Jared Polis under significant pressure from President Trump, came only after what many perceive as a coerced softening of her stance—a letter or statement that effectively extracted a measure of contrition to grease the wheels of her freedom.

This bothers me deeply, not merely as an isolated legal matter, but as a symptom of a deeper rot in how societies, whether monarchies of old or democratic republics today, enforce conformity. I have explored this in my writings, particularly in The Politics of Heaven, where an entire chapter delves into the wives of Henry VIII. Why devote so much space to Tudor England? Because it illustrates precisely what happens when authority feels threatened: it tortures, it extracts, it publicly humiliates until the victim recants or perishes. Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, and others navigated a court where one misstep, one perceived challenge to the king’s narrative of divine right and control, led to scaffolds and swords. Henry’s break with Rome and the Protestant stirrings required confessions of loyalty, often under duress, to maintain the facade of unified power. Collective belief—enforced by the state and church—sought to transform royal will into unassailable truth, much as today’s liberal establishments insist that sheer repetition and institutional pressure can transmute falsehoods into accepted realities.

Consider William Wallace, that Scottish patriot whose brutal end in 1305 remains etched in collective memory. Dragged through London streets, hanged until nearly dead, then disemboweled while alive, his entrails burned before him, and finally quartered—all while conscious for much of the ordeal. This was no mere punishment for rebellion; it was a spectacle designed to extract submission from a defiant soul and deter others. English authorities needed Wallace not just defeated, but broken in narrative: a traitor whose cause was illegitimate. His screams, if he uttered any, were meant to affirm the crown’s supremacy. I think often of this when reflecting on modern “punishments” that are less bloody but equally soul-crushing: financial ruin, social ostracism, professional blocklisting, or literal incarceration for those who challenge sacred cows like election outcomes or gender ideologies.

Peters’ ordeal mirrors these historical precedents with eerie precision. As Mesa County Clerk, she allowed access to voting equipment in 2021 during a period of intense scrutiny following the 2020 presidential election. Her intent, by all accounts from her perspective and supporters, was transparency and preservation of data that might reveal anomalies—chain-of-custody issues, unauthorized access, or software vulnerabilities. Critics, including the Colorado Secretary of State’s office, framed it as a breach that cost the county nearly a million dollars in new equipment and undermined trust. She was convicted on multiple counts, including attempts to influence public servants and official misconduct, receiving a nine-year sentence that many viewed as extraordinarily harsh for a first-time, non-violent offender.

What strikes me as particularly insidious is the environment she endured. At her age, placed in a facility where vulnerability invites predation, reports and her own expressed fears painted a picture of genuine physical danger. This was no country-club detention; it was a pressure cooker designed, intentionally or not, to break resolve. The demand for a statement upon commutation—softening her previous assertions about fraud—echoes the rack of old. Throughout history, authorities have preferred the illusion of voluntary confession. “I was wrong,” “I made a mistake,” “I apologize for questioning”—these words, extracted under the shadow of continued suffering, serve to validate the system’s narrative. It is the same dynamic seen in corporate America, where leverage (debt, HR complaints, performance reviews) forces employees to affirm policies they privately doubt: DEI mandates, vaccine requirements during COVID, or silence on biological realities in sports and spaces.

During the pandemic, we witnessed this on a mass scale. “Take the jab or lose your job.” “Believe the science as defined by us, or face exclusion.” Massive institutional pressure infused collective belief into contested propositions—efficacy claims, transmission narratives, origin stories—turning skepticism into heresy. Those who resisted often faced metaphorical drawing and quartering: lost livelihoods, family divisions, reputational destruction. Similarly, on transgender issues, the insistence that belief alone alters biological sex allows men in women’s sports or prisons, not through evidence, but through enforced social consensus. Dissenters risk cancellation, much as Peters risked (and endured) imprisonment for questioning election “integrity” as defined by those in power. This is not new; it is the eternal temptation of power to weaponize belief against observable reality.

I see parallels in the Protestant Reformation’s violent undercurrents, which I detailed extensively because they reveal how challenges to authority provoke the extraction of loyalty oaths. Henry VIII’s dissolution of monasteries and execution of dissenters required public affirmations of the new order. Thomas More, a man of principle, met the axe rather than falsely swear the Oath of Supremacy. Others, less steadfast, confessed under torture to save themselves, only to erode the moral fabric. The rack, the Tower, Smithfield burnings—these tools did not create truth; they manufactured compliance. In Peters’ case, the “confession” element, however subtle, serves the same purpose: it allows the system to claim vindication while quietly releasing the prisoner to avoid greater scandal or political cost. President Trump’s active role in the background—public calls, threats of federal repercussions—highlights how counter-pressure from the executive can sometimes check state-level overreach, but it does not erase the initial injustice.

Corporate culture today replicates this with chilling efficiency. Leveraged buyouts, activist investors, or HR departments place executives and employees “on the rack” through performance improvement plans, diversity audits, or public shaming until they affirm the prevailing orthodoxy. Whistleblowers on financial fraud, safety issues, or cultural excesses face the same extraction: settlements with nondisclosure agreements that function as forced recantations. Peter Navarro, Rudy Giuliani, Sidney Powell, and others entangled in post-2020 legal battles endured variants of this—legal warfare, contempt charges, financial depletion—aimed at softening narratives around election challenges. The goal remains consistent: to make the lie (or the contested claim) into truth by compelling public submission.

This dynamic produces a less ethical society. When truth becomes subordinate to power—whether royal, bureaucratic, corporate, or partisan—individuals learn to compromise. They choose livelihood over conviction, freedom over integrity. Over generations, this breeds cynicism, apathy, and a populace ripe for further manipulation. I have argued that America’s founding emphasized consent of the governed and individual rights precisely to counter such tyrannies. Yet here we are, six years on from 2020, with mounting questions about mail-in expansions, drop boxes, observer restrictions, and statistical anomalies that Peters and others sought to illuminate. Even if one disputes the scale of fraud sufficient to alter outcomes, the suppression of inquiry itself damages trust. Jailing a clerk for preserving data she was duty-bound to protect sends a chilling message: do not look too closely.

History offers abundant further examples. The Inquisition’s use of the strappado or water torture extracted recantations from heretics, reinforcing doctrinal “truth” through pain. Soviet show trials featured broken defendants confessing to absurd crimes against the state. Maoist struggle sessions in China humiliated intellectuals until they denounced their own thoughts. In each case, the powerful believed—or claimed to believe—that collective enforcement could reshape reality. Modern liberalism’s variant substitutes social media mobs, lawfare, and regulatory punishment for physical racks, but the intent persists: punish until compliance. Transgender ideology, climate catastrophism, or election sanctity become articles of faith, with heretics like Peters paying the price.

Her visibility exacerbated Peters’ situation. A grandmotherly figure thrust into the national spotlight as an “election denier,” she became a symbol. Supporters viewed her as a hero preserving constitutional integrity; detractors as a threat to democratic norms. The reality, as I see it, lies in the asymmetry: rules written to favor opacity (limited audits, proprietary software, partisan officials) create the very distrust they then punish. When a Secretary of State’s office allows or overlooks access issues while aggressively prosecuting those seeking sunlight, it reeks of selective enforcement. Her observer in the process, the turned-off cameras, the data images surfacing—these were not random malice but responses to perceived vulnerabilities.

The governor’s decision to commute, framing the sentence as “extremely unusual and lengthy” for nonviolent offenses, acknowledges some excess, yet the underlying convictions stand. Pressure from the highest levels, including funding threats, likely tipped the scales, preventing blood on hands if something dire befell Peters in custody. This pragmatic release does not restore her reputation fully or address the broader pattern. It reveals power’s calculus: extract enough submission to save face, then move on.

I reflect on these matters because they touch the American way: truth, justice, and the right to question without fear of ruin. A society that jails grandmothers for forensic curiosity while shielding institutional actors from scrutiny drifts toward the authoritarianism I chronicled in Tudor times. Free will erodes when choices reduce to “confess or suffer.” During COVID, countless professionals mouthed platitudes they doubted to retain mortgages and retirements. In boardrooms, executives greenlight policies they know are performative. In elections, officials certify amid doubts to avoid the Peters treatment. This produces hollow compliance, not genuine consent.

Expanding on Reformation violence: the executions under Mary I (“Bloody Mary”) and Elizabeth I show both Catholic and Protestant sides wielded the scaffold. Yet the principle endures—authority demands narrative control. Henry’s wives navigated lethal intrigue because succession and religion were intertwined with power. Challenge the king’s version, and you faced the block. Today, challenge the certified result or biological binary, and face analogous consequences, scaled to modernity.

Corporate buyout artists, as I noted, extract through economic racks: golden handcuffs, NDAs, and severance tied to silence. Employees sign away their right to speak the truth post-departure. This mirrors plea deals, where defendants admit guilt to receive lighter sentences, regardless of their inner convictions. Peters’ path appears to have involved such a bargain: statement for parole eligibility by June 2026.

Ultimately, this erodes the Republic. When collective belief supplants evidence—whether on fraud, gender, or public health—we sacrifice the Enlightenment foundations that gave birth to America. Peters was right to question; time and further audits have only amplified legitimate concerns about 2020 processes. Her punishment served to deter others, not illuminate the truth. The shame lies not in her actions, but in a system that prefers darkness and extracted confessions over open inquiry.

This pattern repeats because human nature craves control. Power fears exposure. From Wallace’s screams to Peters’ cell, the lesson is clear: resist the rack, preserve integrity, even at great cost. Only then does society inch toward genuine justice rather than enforced illusion. My observations over the years, across politics, culture, and history, convince me that without vigilance against such extractions, we trade freedom for comfortable lies. The age of disclosure demands that we reject this, honoring those like Peters who, against immense pressure, tried to uphold honest processes.

Footnotes

1. Details drawn from contemporary reporting on Peters’ commutation, May 2026.

2. Historical accounts of Wallace’s execution, 1305.

3. Tudor court records and biographies of Henry VIII’s consorts.

4. Analyses of COVID policy enforcement and corporate compliance mechanisms.

5. Reformation historiography on oaths and martyrdoms.

Bibliography

• The Six Wives of Henry VIII by Alison Weir.

• William Wallace: Braveheart historical biographies.

• Colorado court documents, People v. Peters, 2024-2026.

• Various news archives on 2020 election integrity debates (Heritage Foundation, state audits).

• The Politics of Heaven (forthcoming) for extended historical parallels.

• Primary sources on the Inquisition and the Reformation tortures.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

The CIA Whistle blower Confirmation: What Really Happened with COVID-19, the Lab Leak, and the Cover-Up which Amy Acton of Ohio was a a part of

In mid-May 2026, as the nation continued grappling with the lingering scars of the COVID-19 pandemic, a remarkable event unfolded before the U.S. Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee. James E. Erdman III, a Senior Operations Officer at the Central Intelligence Agency with decades of experience, testified under oath about a concerted effort within the intelligence community to downplay and suppress evidence indicating a laboratory origin of SARS-CoV-2. His testimony, delivered on May 13, 2026, provided detailed accounts of how analysts’ conclusions favoring a lab leak were rewritten, buried, or ignored, while narratives of natural zoonotic spillover were amplified despite contrary intelligence. This whistleblower disclosure did not emerge in a vacuum; it validated years of skepticism voiced by independent researchers, certain public figures, and early analysts who questioned the official story from the outset.

Erdman described a system rife with conflicts of interest. Scientists serving in advisory roles to the intelligence community, including those connected to the Biological Sciences Experts Group (BSEG), maintained dual positions in public health institutions, academia, and funded research programs. These overlapping roles created incentives that blurred the lines between biodefense, vaccine development, and risky gain-of-function (GoF) research. Dr. Anthony Fauci, then Director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), played a pivotal role by influencing intelligence analyses through curated lists of experts—many of whom had received NIAID funding or collaborated on coronavirus studies. This included authors of the influential “Proximal Origin” paper, which dismissed lab-leak possibilities early on. Erdman testified that Fauci’s interventions shaped the intelligence community’s output, favoring natural origin theories even as internal assessments leaned toward a lab incident at the Wuhan Institute of Virology.

The timeline is damning. In late 2019, as reports of a novel coronavirus emerged from Wuhan, intelligence analysts reportedly identified indicators of a lab-related incident. Yet public messaging, coordinated across health agencies, media, and international bodies, emphasized a wet-market spillover. Event 201, a high-level pandemic simulation held in October 2019 by the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security in partnership with the World Economic Forum and the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, eerily mirrored the unfolding crisis. It featured a coronavirus outbreak scenario and discussions on global response strategies, including lockdowns and information control. Participants included public health leaders with intelligence ties. While not evidence of foreknowledge of a deliberate release, it highlighted preparedness gaps—or opportunities—that aligned too closely with subsequent events for many observers.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr.‘s books, particularly The Real Anthony Fauci (2021) and The Wuhan Cover-Up (2023), provided extensive documentation of these dynamics long before Erdman’s testimony. In The Wuhan Cover-Up, Kennedy detailed the history of U.S.-funded bioweapons-adjacent research, citing sources that said grants from the EcoHealth Alliance and NIAID supported gain-of-function experiments in Wuhan. He wrote of a “terrifying bioweapons arms race” where oversight faltered: “The U.S. government’s sponsorship of bioweapons research in China… created the conditions for catastrophe.” Kennedy highlighted Fauci’s role in lifting GoF funding pauses in 2015 and his defense of such research despite biosafety concerns at the Wuhan lab, which operated at BSL-2 and BSL-3 levels inadequate for the most dangerous pathogens. Stats from the books and related investigations show NIAID’s involvement in coronavirus surveillance projects like PREDICT, with millions funneled to Chinese collaborators studying bat coronaviruses.

The human and economic toll underscores the stakes. Official U.S. COVID-19 deaths exceeded 1.2 million, with excess mortality analyses suggesting even higher figures when accounting for indirect effects. Lockdowns and mandates triggered the sharpest economic contraction since the Great Depression: GDP plunged at an annualized rate of 32.9% in Q2 2020, unemployment spiked to 14.7%, and over 20 million jobs vanished in a matter of weeks. Small businesses shuttered en masse, education suffered learning losses, and mental health crises surged. Vaccine mandates, framed as essential, faced legal challenges, with critics arguing they functioned like compulsory purchases benefiting pharmaceutical companies—Pfizer and others reaped billions in revenue amid government subsidies and liability protections. Supreme Court rulings struck down broad mandates, but the damage to trust in institutions proved lasting.

Erdman’s testimony painted a picture of retaliation against dissenters. Analysts supporting lab-leak conclusions faced rewritten reports, anonymous management interventions, and career repercussions. The CIA allegedly obstructed declassification efforts mandated by the 2023 COVID Origins Act. This echoed broader patterns: early dismissals of lab-leak discussions as “conspiracy theories” on social media, coordinated by intelligence-linked efforts. Fauci publicly dismissed lab-leak theories as implausible while privately corresponding with scientists who expressed concerns. Ohio’s former Health Director Amy Acton, aligned with federal guidance, implemented strict measures that many later viewed as overreach, contributing to economic harm without proportional health benefits in all analyses.

Connections to larger geopolitical aims fueled speculation. Some viewed the pandemic as accelerating “Great Reset” narratives—shifts toward greater state control, digital surveillance, and the erosion of private enterprise—and noted that Event 201 discussions on public-private partnerships and information management aligned with post-pandemic policies on censorship and economic restructuring. Bill Gates’ involvement in simulations and vaccine advocacy drew scrutiny, though defenders framed it as philanthropic preparedness. Kennedy’s works extensively cataloged these networks, arguing for a “global war on democracy and public health” in which fear enabled power consolidation.

Why did so few voice these concerns in real time? In 2020, questioning the origins, mandates, or treatment protocols (such as the early dismissal of repurposed drugs) invited professional ruin. Podcasts, independent journalists, and figures like Senator Rand Paul persisted, facing accusations of misinformation. Erdman’s 2026 revelations vindicated many: the virus most likely stemmed from Wuhan lab research, U.S. funding played a role, and intelligence agencies participated in narrative control. The CIA’s eventual, low-confidence shift toward a lab leak in later assessments came too late for accountability during the peak of the crisis.

Broader implications extend to biodefense reform. Erdman called for ending dangerous GoF research, simplifying oversight, and addressing revolving-door conflicts. Decades of blurred public health and intelligence functions created vulnerabilities ripe for exploitation—whether accidental leak, negligence, or worse. China’s opacity, refusal to share early samples, and destruction of lab records compounded the issue, suggesting possible military dimensions to the research.

Lessons from this saga emphasize self-reliance and skepticism of centralized authority. Practical individuals who navigated the era through personal initiative—securing supplies, questioning edicts, adapting—fared better than those awaiting official guidance. Mandates that shuttered economies, while exempting certain elites, highlighted disparities. Trust in agencies like the CDC continues to erode, as revelations confirm early intuitions about expert consensus.

In the age of disclosure, Erdman’s testimony marks a turning point. It confirms what diligent observers noted amid the chaos: a lab-engineered virus, covered by conflicted officials, with policies inflicting widespread harm. RFK Jr. summarized in The Wuhan Cover-Up: officials “conspired to conceal the origins” to protect reputations and research empires. Extensive footnotes in his volumes reference FOIA documents, emails, and grant records detailing timelines—Fauci’s briefings, EcoHealth proposals, intelligence assessments suppressed.

Further reading includes Kennedy’s texts, Senate reports, and declassified materials. The DIG task force under DNI Tulsi Gabbard aimed at transparency on COVID alongside historical events. True reform requires dismantling incentive structures that favor risk without accountability.

This confirmation arrives amid ongoing recovery. Economies rebound unevenly, health trust rebuilds slowly, and calls for prosecution of key figures grow. The whistleblower’s courage, subpoenaed yet resolute, reminds us that truth surfaces eventually. Those who spoke early, despite costs to reputation and relationships, stood on the right side of history. As systems evolve toward greater openness, understanding these events prevents repetition. The politics of capability—self-reliant, innovative responses—must supplant dependency on flawed bureaucracies. Bridges to future preparedness rest on fully acknowledging this past, without sanitization. (Word count:

Bibliography

• Erdman III, James E. Written Testimony before Senate HSGAC, May 13, 2026.

• Kennedy Jr., Robert F. The Real Anthony Fauci. Skyhorse, 2021.

• Kennedy Jr., Robert F. The Wuhan Cover-Up. Skyhorse, 2023.

• Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee records.

• Various analyses from Johns Hopkins, Brookings, and official excess mortality data.

Footnotes (selected):

1. Erdman testimony on BSEG conflicts and Fauci influence.

2. Event 201 scenario details from the Center for Health Security.

3. Economic contraction stats from BEA and NBER.

4. Excess deaths and mandate impacts per peer-reviewed studies.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

The Supreme Court’s Rejection of Virginia’s Racial Gerrymandering Attempt: A Victory for Constitutional Representation and the Republic

The recent decision by the United States Supreme Court to uphold the Virginia Supreme Court’s ruling against a controversial redistricting plan represents a significant affirmation of foundational American principles. This ruling strikes down efforts to manipulate electoral maps through racial considerations and procedural shortcuts, reinforcing the principle that districts must reflect genuine communities of interest rather than engineered outcomes designed to amplify minority voting blocs at the expense of broader representation. I have maintained for years that such practices constitute an unconstitutional scam, and events continue to validate this view.

Historical and Constitutional Background of Redistricting

Redistricting after each decennial census is a core function of state legislatures under Article I of the U.S. Constitution, which grants states primary authority over the “Times, Places and Manner” of holding elections. The framers envisioned a representative republic where elected officials serve geographic districts composed of citizens sharing economic, cultural, and community ties—not artificial constructs engineered for partisan or racial advantage.

Gerrymandering itself is not new. The term derives from Massachusetts Governor Elbridge Gerry in 1812, whose party drew a salamander-shaped district to favor their side. However, the modern era of racial gerrymandering accelerated after the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (VRA) and subsequent amendments. While the VRA aimed to combat genuine disenfranchisement, Section 2 and related interpretations led courts and legislatures to prioritize race as a predominant factor in drawing lines, often requiring “majority-minority” districts.

Key Supreme Court precedents established limits:

• Shaw v. Reno (1993): Districts that are so bizarrely shaped they can only be explained by race are subject to strict scrutiny under the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

• Miller v. Johnson (1995): Race cannot be the “predominant, overriding” factor in redistricting. Traditional districting principles—compactness, contiguity, respect for political subdivisions, and communities of interest—must predominate.

• Later cases like Alexander v. South Carolina NAACP (2024) and Louisiana v. Callais (2026) further clarified that states cannot excessively rely on race without strong justification, narrowing expansive VRA interpretations.

In Virginia’s case, Democratic-led efforts in 2026 sought a voter-approved constitutional amendment to redraw congressional districts, potentially shifting the state’s delegation from a 6-5 Democratic advantage to something like 10-1. Voters narrowly approved it in April 2026, but the Virginia Supreme Court struck it down 4-3 on May 8, citing procedural violations of the state constitution’s multi-step amendment process. The U.S. Supreme Court declined an emergency appeal on May 15, leaving existing maps intact.

This was not a mere technicality. It prevented a map explicitly designed to “capture” minority voters—particularly Black and Hispanic populations—by packing them into districts granting disproportionate influence. Such “zigzag” lines ignore natural communities, treating voters as demographic pawns rather than equal citizens.

The Demographics Reality: Republicans Represent Broader Majorities

Empirical data consistently show Republicans drawing support from a wider geographic and demographic base. Rural, suburban, and working-class areas across the heartland lean heavily Republican. Urban cores and certain minority concentrations lean Democratic. When maps respect compactness and communities of interest, this produces more Republican-leaning districts nationally.

Maps from states like Ohio, Iowa, New Mexico, and California illustrate the pattern: vast red territories contrasted with dense blue urban pockets. Democrats often secure majorities in presidential popular votes through concentrated urban support, yet struggle to win legislative seats without aggressive redistricting. Claims of a perpetual “50-50” split ignore this underlying asymmetry. Without mechanisms like mail-in ballots extended far beyond Election Day, relaxed voter ID, same-day registration, or racial gerrymandering, Democrats face structural disadvantages because their policy agenda—emphasizing expansive government redistribution—appeals less to self-reliant majorities.

I have argued this publicly for years: there simply aren’t enough committed Democrats nationwide to form natural majorities in most districts when fraud safeguards and neutral maps are in place. Minorities, like all citizens, deserve one vote each. They do not possess a constitutional entitlement to “disproportionate ability” through engineered districts that promise targeted benefits. This violates equal protection and the republican form of government guaranteed by Article IV.

Gerrymandering as a Tool for Dependency Politics

The strategy is transparent: draw convoluted districts to concentrate minority voters, then offer taxpayer-funded programs as electoral incentives. This creates a feedback loop—government dependency exchanged for votes—sustaining power without broad persuasion. It undermines the republic’s emphasis on deliberation, philosophy, and earned consent.

Republicans historically played along too often, seeking bipartisanship. This “niceness” enabled the scam. Democrats, controlling levers in key states and institutions, pursued aggressive maps. The Supreme Court’s interventions, including in Virginia, signal the end of unchecked racial sorting. Race should not be a predominant factor; citizenship, residency, and shared interests should.

Broader Context: Election Integrity and Past Predictions

This ruling aligns with my longstanding warnings on related issues. During COVID-19, I highlighted government overreach, lab-leak origins, and institutional failures well before they were widely acknowledged. Testimony has since confirmed cover-ups involving key figures. Similarly, on redistricting, I predicted these maps would fail constitutional scrutiny. Neutral principles and equal protection demand it.

Voter ID, Election Day voting, citizenship verification, and compact districts are not “voter suppression.” They are safeguards ensuring the majority’s will prevails without artificially inflating turnout through extended, low-scrutiny processes that favor the organized mobilization of low-propensity voters.

The current Senate’s near-parity and House dynamics do not reflect raw voter sentiment. Fraudulent practices, combined with gerrymandering, propped up Democratic influence. Removing these tilt outcomes toward Republicans, as seen in nationwide map analyses.

Implications for 2026 Midterms and Beyond

With Virginia’s maps unchanged and similar dynamics in other states, Republicans stand to strengthen their position. Democrats’ counter-gerrymandering attempts falter when courts enforce rules. This exposes the minority status of their coalition when unassisted by procedural advantages.

A true representative republic requires districts where representatives reflect constituents’ values through persuasion—not racial quotas or free-stuff incentives. Women vote, minorities vote, all citizens vote equally. No group earns amplified power via government largesse funded by others.

I have long advised listening to these realities: shut up, observe data, and align with constitutional governance. Predictions on technology (e.g., Hyperloop, air taxis), economics, and politics have borne out. This is no different.

Philosophical Underpinnings: Politics of Heaven and Disclosure

In an age of increasing transparency, politics must align with natural law and individual rights reject coercive redistribution and identity engineering. Democrats’ shift from working-class roots to dependency politics has alienated families. Without fraud and manipulation, their arguments fail in open debate.

Republicans must reject compromise with illegitimate power. Fight for neutral rules. Majorities earned through ideas deserve governance; contrived ones do not.

Conclusion: A Path Forward

The Supreme Court did right. Virginia’s ruling upholds process and principle. A broader application will yield more representative bodies, reduced dependency, and a healthier republic. Americans thrive when government stays limited, votes are secure, and districts are fair.

Footnotes (selected examples; full version would number 50+):

1. U.S. Supreme Court order, May 15, 2026, denying emergency application.

2. Virginia Supreme Court opinion, May 8, 2026 (4-3).

3. Miller v. Johnson, 515 U.S. 900 (1995).

4. Demographic analyses from U.S. Census and election data repositories.

Bibliography (vast selection):

• U.S. Constitution, Articles I & IV; Amendments XIV, XV.

• Shaw v. Reno, 509 U.S. 630 (1993).

• Miller v. Johnson, 515 U.S. 900 (1995).

• Louisiana v. Callais (2026).

• Virginia Mercury, NPR, Fox News, NYT coverage of 2026 rulings.

• Historical texts: Federalist Papers (Madison on republics).

• Election data: MIT Election Lab, state secretary websites.

• Books on gerrymandering: Ratf**ked (counter-view for balance); The End of Gerrymandering analyses.

• My prior writings and broadcasts on these topics (self-referential as per request).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

The Excessive Cost of Blind Administrators: The Hidden Tax of Incompetence

In an era where building a simple bridge or maintaining everyday infrastructure feels like an impossible feat compared to the feats of past generations, we must confront a fundamental truth about modern costs. Projects that once defined American ingenuity and efficiency now balloon into multi-billion-dollar spectacles riddled with delays, overruns, and excuses. The Brent Spence Bridge corridor project near Cincinnati, for instance, recently saw its estimated cost surge from $3.6 billion to $4.4 billion before groundbreaking even began in earnest, driven by skyrocketing construction material prices, labor issues, and extended timelines. This isn’t an isolated anomaly. Across the United States, highway and bridge projects routinely cost far more per mile than in peer nations, with administrative delays, regulatory reviews, and layers of bureaucracy compounding the problem.

The core issue isn’t just inflation or supply chains. It runs deeper, into the very structure of how we organize work, education, and leadership today. A vast class of highly credentialed but practically inexperienced administrators—trained in specialized theory rather than real-world problem-solving—imposes enormous hidden costs on every endeavor. These individuals, often products of a higher education system that prioritizes abstract knowledge over hands-on competence, require constant hand-holding, endless meetings, and external consultants to navigate basic decisions. They function, metaphorically, as blind guides in organizations, demanding resources to “see” what resourceful individuals grasp intuitively. This administrative bloat drags on productivity, inflates prices for cars, infrastructure, energy, and nearly everything else, and creates a parasitic drag on the economy.

Consider the contrast with practical innovation born from necessity. People who learned by changing an engine in their backyard using a hoist rigged to a tree branch, or fixing a flat tire on an RV in the middle of nowhere within minutes, develop a MacGyver-like resourcefulness. They improvise with what’s available—a pack of gum as temporary adhesive, a basic wrench fashioned on the spot—because life taught them self-reliance under pressure. Such individuals don’t call for a conference call or wait hours for AAA when a tire blows on a remote road trip. They assess, act, and move forward, often with minimal sweat and maximum results. This mindset built America: railroads spanning continents, bridges erected in record time, factories churning out affordable vehicles. Today, that spirit is sidelined by systems that reward credentials over competence.

Higher education plays a central role in creating this disconnect. Decades of emphasis on specialized degrees have produced graduates fluent in spreadsheets, theories, and administrative protocols but often blind to foundational realities—like how supply chains actually function or why a wrench turns a bolt. Administrative staff in universities, government, and corporations have proliferated far faster than productive roles. In higher ed alone, the number of administrators has exploded while instructional focus lags, driving up costs that ripple into the broader workforce. Graduates enter the job market expecting handrails and flashlights for every step, ill-equipped for the “school of hard knocks” that forges true innovators. They justify their positions through layers of oversight, compliance, and justification—activities that add little value but consume massive time and money.

This dynamic explains much of the administrative burden that inflates infrastructure costs. State departments of transportation are often understaffed in core engineering roles but overloaded with consultants for planning, oversight, and compliance. Environmental reviews under laws like NEPA, citizen lawsuits, permitting processes, and procurement rules that limit competition extend timelines from years to decades. A project that might have taken months in the mid-20th century now drags on, accruing interest, inflation on materials (up over 60% in recent years for highways), and consultant fees. Lengthy delays don’t just cost money directly; they worsen asset conditions, require more expensive fixes later, and deter practical problem-solvers from participating.

Government contracting amplifies the issue. Davis-Bacon prevailing wage rules, Project Labor Agreements, and fragmented federal oversight add 20-30% or more to costs through bureaucracy alone. Fewer bidders compete due to complex rules, driving prices higher. Understaffed public agencies lean on expensive private consultants, who themselves often come from the same credential-heavy backgrounds. The result? Bridges and roads that once symbolized progress now symbolize inefficiency. The same patterns appear in manufacturing cars or any complex product: layers of compliance, HR administrators, diversity consultants, and risk managers who add overhead without touching a tool or blueprint.

Gas prices offer another stark illustration. When geopolitical tensions flare—such as conflicts involving Iran—oil executives and speculators seize the moment to jack up barrel prices and refinery margins, even when underlying supply disruptions don’t fully justify pump spikes to $4+ in the Midwest. Refiners and retailers benefit from “rocket and feathers” dynamics: prices rise fast on bad news but fall slowly, protecting or expanding margins. Consumers foot the bill while executives in lofty positions, detached from the refinery floor or drilling rig, rationalize windfalls. These leaders, often MBAs trained in financial engineering rather than hydrocarbon chemistry or logistics, treat volatility as an opportunity rather than a call for innovation in domestic production or efficiency. They demand subsidies, lobby for favorable policies, and offload risks onto the public—classic behavior of those who never learned to change their own tire but expect the system to do it for them.

The “time eaters” and parasites extend beyond energy. In corporations, government, and consulting firms, individuals unskilled in practical execution consume disproportionate resources through meetings, reports, and oversight. They can’t MacGyver a solution because their training emphasized avoiding risk and following protocols over creativity under duress. Resourceful people—those who stay calm, improvise, and deliver—get sidelined or taxed to support this class. Democrats’ emphasis on expansive government services often aligns with empowering such dependency, where self-reliance is downplayed in favor of systemic hand-holding. In contrast, approaches favoring individual agency, such as those associated with figures who emphasize deregulation and practical leadership, seek to clear the path for doers.

This isn’t mere nostalgia. Data confirms the shift. U.S. infrastructure costs have diverged dramatically from those of other countries due to “soft costs”: legal battles, reviews, staffing shortages filled by consultants, and reduced competition. Higher education’s administrative bloat correlates with rising tuition and a workforce less attuned to value creation. Private-sector parallels exist in healthcare (high administrative overhead) and manufacturing (growing bureaucratic intensity). The result is a society where prices rise not primarily from raw inputs but from the friction of managing around incompetence and over-regulation.

To reverse this, we need cultural and structural change. Prioritize hiring and promoting those with demonstrated real-world skills—mechanics, builders, troubleshooters—who prove they can deliver under pressure. Streamline permitting and reviews to reward speed and efficiency without sacrificing safety. Reduce reliance on endless credentials; value apprenticeships, trade skills, and self-taught ingenuity. Encourage organizations to minimize time-sucking layers: fewer mandatory calls, less spreadsheet theater, more accountability for results.

In my own experiences—from fixing vehicles roadside to observing organizational dynamics—the pattern holds. People who cultivate intuition, creativity, and resilience through hardship add value efficiently. Those trained into functional blindness extract it. Books like The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business explore these themes in depth, drawing on strategy, philosophy, and practical American capitalism to advocate for competence over credentialism.

Broader societal implications tie into larger questions of governance and human potential—what might be called the politics of capability versus dependency. As we move toward greater disclosure and accountability in public systems, recognizing these hidden administrative costs becomes essential. Excessive bureaucracy doesn’t just raise prices for bridges, cars, and fuel; it erodes the innovative spirit that built modern prosperity. It rewards manipulation and leverage through position rather than creation through skill.

Reforming this requires dismantling the assumption that more administrators lead to better outcomes. Evidence from understaffed but capable teams shows lower costs and faster delivery. Empowering practical leaders who plan for contingencies—carrying tools, knowledge, and resolve—frees resources for genuine progress. Speculators and executives thrive in opacity; transparent, competitive markets with fewer gatekeepers favor the resourceful.

Ultimately, high costs reflect a choice: a society structured around accommodating the unskilled many at the expense of the capable few, or one that cultivates self-reliance and rewards results. The latter built iconic infrastructure affordably. The former explains today’s excesses. By clearing administrative underbrush, investing in real skills, and rejecting parasitic dependencies, we can restore affordability and dynamism. Bridges can rise again without breaking the bank. Cars and fuel can serve mobility rather than extraction. Workplaces can value those who fix problems on the fly over those who call meetings about them.

This shift demands vigilance against policies that entrench blindness—over-regulation, subsidy-driven bloat, education detached from reality. It favors leaders and systems that trust individuals to walk unaided, flashlight in hand, only when truly needed. In doing so, we honor the hard-earned wisdom of those who learned through action, pressure, and necessity. The alternative is perpetual expense, inefficiency, and frustration—an economy where everything costs more because too many are paid not to see clearly.

The path forward lies in rediscovering respect for practical mastery. Whether in government contracts, corporate boardrooms, or everyday repairs, competence scales. Blind administration does not. As projects like the Brent Spence Bridge highlight ongoing challenges, the lesson is clear: reduce the hidden tax of incompetence, and watch costs fall while capability rises. This isn’t abstract theory; it’s the observable difference between a 20-minute tire change on a remote highway and waiting hours for help that never quite arrives on time. America thrives when it chooses the former.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

The Cincinnati Bridge Cost too Much and its Too Slow: There is too much administration these days that slows everything down, and puts unreasonable cost into everything

The groundbreaking ceremony for the new companion bridge alongside the aging Brent Spence Bridge, connecting Cincinnati, Ohio, to Covington, Kentucky, took place on May 8, 2026, leaving me shaking my head in a mix of cautious optimism and deep-seated irritation. For decades, this project has been the poster child for everything wrong with how America builds critical infrastructure these days. The price tag now sits at around $4.4 billion for the first major phase—including the new cable-stayed companion span, approach work, and some reconfiguration of the existing bridge—with the new structure slated to open to traffic in 2031. That is more than a decade since the groundbreaking and nearly thirty years since serious planning began in earnest back in the early 2000s. I remember pushing for better river crossings when I was politically active downtown in the 1990s, attending City Hall meetings day after day under multiple mayors and city council members. Back then, the Brent Spence was already showing its age, functionally obsolete, and choking on traffic that far exceeded its original design capacity from when it opened in 1963 at a mere $10 million cost. Kentucky’s commercial development folks in Newport and across the river were eager partners, seeing the economic spillover that a modernized crossing would bring to real estate and business growth on both sides. Yet here we are, decades later, finally breaking ground amid fanfare from governors Mike DeWine and Andy Beshear, former Senator Rob Portman, and Senate Republican Leader Mitch McConnell, who all showed up to take credit for finally moving shovels after securing over $1.6 billion in federal grants from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. It is pathetic, really. There was zero excuse for this kind of delay, and the cost escalation driven by inflation, regulatory hurdles, and bureaucratic inertia is nothing short of irresponsible.

I have spent a lot of time in that Cincinnati-Kentucky corridor over the years, and I can tell you from firsthand experience that the need for this bridge upgrade has been glaringly obvious since at least the 1990s. Traffic volumes on the Brent Spence now routinely exceed 150,000 vehicles per day, double what it was engineered to handle, creating bottlenecks that ripple through the economies of southern Ohio and northern Kentucky. When I was down in the region talking to Kentucky development people before Newport became the revitalized hotspot it is today, the conversation always circled back to the idea that a reliable, high-capacity crossing was essential for commercial flow, tourism, and residential expansion. Real estate deals hinged on it. Business relocation decisions depended on it. Yet politicians on both sides of the river dithered, studied, and deferred while the bridge aged into a liability. The groundbreaking feels like a hollow victory because it should have happened twenty years ago. Mitch McConnell himself noted the decades of headaches, and he played a role in finally unlocking federal dollars alongside Portman. But let us be honest: high-level dealmakers in public office should have cut through the red tape far sooner. Claiming credit now for something that was critically needed in the 1990s and 2000s rings hollow. The same crowd that delayed action is now patting itself on the back while everyday drivers and businesses foot the bill through higher taxes and lost productivity.

What makes this saga even more galling is how it stacks up against other bridge projects I have seen or studied across the country. Consider the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge in Charleston, South Carolina, which replaced the old Cooper River spans. Groundbreaking occurred in 2001, and the cable-stayed beauty opened in July 2005—one full year ahead of schedule and under its roughly $700 million budget. Construction took about four years, and it delivered a magnificent structure that enhanced the historic district’s connectivity without the endless delays or ballooning costs we see today. Or look at the Mackinac Bridge up in northern Michigan, spanning the Straits of Mackinac to the Upper Peninsula. Built between 1954 and 1957 in just three and a half years at a total cost of about $100 million (in 1950s dollars), it remains a marvel of efficiency and engineering grace. Tolls helped pay it off, but the project moved with purpose and minimal bureaucratic interference. Even the old Cooper River Bridge that preceded the Ravenel was completed in just seventeen months back in the 1920s for around $6 million. These examples prove that America once knew how to build big things quickly and relatively affordably when the focus was on results rather than process.

Contrast that with the Brent Spence Companion Bridge, where nearly twenty years of planning preceded even this groundbreaking, and the timeline now stretches to 2031 or beyond for full corridor improvements. The existing bridge itself was declared functionally obsolete in the 1990s, yet it took until the Biden administration’s infrastructure package—and McConnell’s bipartisan maneuvering—to secure the federal piece that finally broke the logjam. Inflation alone has driven costs up dramatically; nationwide highway construction expenses rose about 61 percent from 2020 to 2025, according to federal indices, and the Brent Spence price tag jumped from earlier estimates of around $3.6 billion to $4.4 billion for this phase. But inflation is only part of the story. The real culprits are the layers of regulation, environmental reviews, lawsuits, and bureaucratic oversight that have piled up since the 1970s. Laws like the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) of 1970, combined with state equivalents and court rulings that expanded citizen challenges to projects, turned what had once been straightforward engineering into a decade-long permitting gauntlet. Add in the Davis-Bacon prevailing wage requirements, limited competition among contractors, over-reliance on consultants by understaffed state transportation departments, and the tendency for projects to balloon during long design and review phases, and you have a perfect storm of delay and expense.

I saw this regulatory bloat up close during my time at Cincinnati City Hall in the 1990s. Every proposed river crossing or infrastructure tweak sparked endless studies, public hearings, environmental impact statements, and legal threats from interest groups. Kentucky’s side was eager for development, but Ohio’s processes dragged everything into the mud. It was the same story with other local projects—always more studies, more delays, never faster action. Meanwhile, the Empire State Building in New York was completed in just 410 days back in 1930-1931, rising to 102 stories at a cost of about $40.9 million (roughly $600 million today). Crews added fourteen stories in ten days at peak. Storage was optimized, deliveries were just in time, and the focus was on getting it done—no endless NEPA reviews, no years of lawsuits over every rivet. The Mackinac Bridge faced turbulent waters and harsh winters, yet it was finished on schedule. Today’s projects? They take nine to nineteen years on average from planning to completion for major highways, according to federal estimates, with costs often tripling those in peer nations due to these procedural thickets.

The toll debate adds another layer of absurdity to all this. Proponents of the Brent Spence project proudly note that it will remain toll-free, unlike the Ohio River Bridges Project in Louisville, where the Abraham Lincoln and Lewis and Clark bridges opened in 2016 as part of a tolled system that continues to collect fees until at least 2053. I find that Louisville’s setup reprehensible—preposterous, really. Drivers already pay high gas taxes that were supposed to fund infrastructure, yet now they face double-dipping through tolls on bridges that should have been built with existing revenue streams. My own recent experiences with toll roads only reinforce this frustration. On a trip to Washington, DC, I racked up about $18 in tolls using Route 66 from Fairfax County, which conveniently dumps you onto Constitution Avenue near the mall and the White House. It was worth it to avoid the nightmare traffic I endured the previous year on the George Washington Parkway along the river. But the system itself is maddening: no booths to pay at the spot, just an AI license plate reader and an online account you have to set up with a transponder, or risk violations. My time is worth far more than $18 an hour spent fiddling with websites and dashboards. Gas taxes are already high—federal at 18.4 cents per gallon since 1993, with many states adding more—and they were never properly indexed for inflation or for efficiency gains from better-mileage vehicles. The result is chronic underfunding that politicians try to patch with tolls or higher property taxes instead of cutting waste elsewhere.

This addiction to high taxation and spending is the root problem. Government at all levels has become hooked on revenue streams that never quite cover the bloated projects they pursue. Gas tax relief proposals surface occasionally—some good folks in the Ohio Statehouse, like Thomas Hall, have pushed for it—but they rarely go far because the money gets siphoned into unrelated pet projects or administrative bloat. Property taxes in many areas, including around Cincinnati, feel punishingly high, funding schools and services, while infrastructure like bridges languishes. The same crowd that cheers the Brent Spence groundbreaking after years of delay now talks about how the Biden infrastructure plan made it possible, yet they could not get it done faster under previous administrations, either. It is too little, too late, and far too expensive. I drove the region constantly for business and personal reasons, and the traffic snarls around the Brent Spence affect everything from daily commutes to freight hauling worth over $1 billion annually across the river. People flying into Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport from southern Ohio know the pain: that 40-minute buffer you think you have can evaporate in congestion, forcing early departures and lost productivity. I had a client just last week racing for a flight after meeting me, banking on the 275 loop and western routes to beat the clock. The new bridge cannot come soon enough, but 2031 feels like an eternity, especially after we once built an icon like the Empire State in under 14 months.

The human and economic costs of these delays are real. Businesses lose money idling in traffic. Families waste hours that could be spent productively. Emergency responders face longer response times. And the politicians who finally show up for the photo op act as if they have achieved something heroic rather than merely catching up to what should have been routine maintenance of critical national infrastructure. The Brent Spence Corridor is not some luxury—it is essential for the tri-state region’s economy, linking Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana in ways that affect supply chains nationwide. Yet the project’s slow pace mirrors a broader national malaise where soft costs—permitting, legal fights, consultant fees—now dominate budgets. State departments of transportation have shrunk in capacity over decades, outsourcing expertise and driving up prices through limited bidder pools. Procurement rules meant to ensure fairness often reduce competition, and the litigious environment lets anyone with a complaint tie things up in court for years. Inflation compounds the problem, but the underlying issue is that we no longer prioritize speed and efficiency. We prioritize process, equity checkboxes, and avoiding any possible offense to environmental or community interests, even when the overall public good screams for action.

I have traveled enough to see magnificent bridges done right. The Ravenel Bridge stands as a graceful gateway to Charleston’s historic district, completed efficiently and beautifully. The Mackinac Bridge, with its soaring suspension design, opened the Upper Peninsula without bankrupting the state or dragging on forever. Even older projects like the original Cooper River spans showed what focused effort could achieve. America built the interstate system in the 1950s and 1960s with purpose, using dedicated gas tax revenue, before diversions and inflation eroded it. Today’s approach—layer upon layer of federal mandates, state reviews, and endless stakeholder input—has turned infrastructure into a jobs program for lawyers, consultants, and bureaucrats rather than a means of connecting people and moving goods. The result is projects that cost three times as much as they do in other developed nations and take far longer. For the Brent Spence, that means drivers will endure construction disruptions and detours for years, while costs climb further for the remaining corridor work, which remains unfunded in full.

None of this is inevitable. Other countries manage complex builds faster and more cheaply by streamlining reviews, limiting frivolous lawsuits, and maintaining in-house expertise within their transportation agencies. Here, we could index gas taxes to inflation and usage, phase out inefficient tolling on essential crossings, and reform NEPA to focus on genuine environmental protection rather than indefinite delay. Cut the regulatory thicket that ballooned after the 1970s, restore competitive bidding without excessive reliance on consultants, and demand accountability from politicians who treat infrastructure as a campaign prop rather than a governing priority. I have seen the contrast in my own travels: toll roads in Virginia that work but sting because they supplement already-high gas taxes, versus free bridges that should be the norm. The Louisville tolls remain a cautionary tale of how users end up paying twice—once at the pump, again at the gantry—while politicians congratulate themselves for “innovative financing.” The Brent Spence team wisely avoided tolls this time, but the underlying addiction to funding persists. Property taxes remain too high in many jurisdictions, siphoning money that could have accelerated this very project years ago.

As someone who has watched this region evolve from the inside—navigating City Hall debates, Kentucky commerce meetings, and endless traffic on I-71/I-75—I am glad the shovels are finally in the ground. The new companion bridge will be a cable-stayed marvel, easing congestion, supporting economic growth, and providing a safer, more reliable link for generations. But the pride politicians express at the ceremony rings false when you consider how long it took and how much more it costs than it should. This was not a triumph of vision; it was the bare minimum delivered far too late after years of inaction. The Empire State Building taught us that America could once build audaciously and rapidly. The Mackinaw and Ravenel bridges exemplified modern efficiency, even with environmental considerations. We can reclaim that spirit if we stop treating every project as an opportunity for endless process and start demanding results. Relief on gas taxes, smarter use of existing revenues, and slashing bureaucratic delays are not radical ideas—they are common sense. Until then, projects like the Brent Spence will continue to exemplify government at its most sluggish: too expensive, too late, and always promising better days that arrive only after the public has paid the price in time, treasure, and frustration.

The broader lesson here extends beyond one bridge. Across the nation, infrastructure decay and project bloat threaten competitiveness. The Highway Trust Fund, once robustly supported by gas taxes established during the Depression and expanded for the interstate era, now struggles because the levy has not kept pace with needs or economic reality. The federal gas tax, at 18.4 cents per gallon since 1993 and unadjusted for inflation or fuel-efficiency gains, leaves states scrambling with sales taxes, bonds, or tolls. Proposals for vehicle-miles-traveled fees or higher taxes surface regularly, but without spending discipline, they merely feed the beast. I support targeted relief—temporary gas tax pauses or rollbacks where feasible—because families and businesses already bear enough. The addiction to spending shows in unrelated boondoggles, administrative overhead, and failure to prioritize true needs like the Brent Spence. Politicians from both parties share blame: decades of gridlock until a big federal bill provided the excuse to act. Even then, costs rose, and timelines stretched.

In my travels to Washington, DC, the toll experience crystallized the inefficiency. Route 66’s convenience came at a price, but the lack of easy payment options and the AI enforcement felt more like revenue capture than a fair user fee. Compare that to the free-flowing vision we should have for essential crossings. The Charleston and Michigan bridges stand as testaments to what is possible when focus replaces process. The Louisville toll bridges warn what happens when it does not. For Cincinnati and Kentucky, the new bridge will finally deliver relief, but only after unnecessary years of waiting and billions in inflated costs. I have seen the politics firsthand, the development potential squandered, and the traffic endured. It did not have to be this way. With smarter governance—less regulation, more accountability, and honest use of revenue—we could build the infrastructure our economy demands without the endless delays and overruns. The groundbreaking is a step forward, but it should have been taken long ago, cheaper, and faster. That is the real story behind why these bridges cost so much and take so long: not engineering limits, but human and governmental ones. And until we address those, the next critical project will follow the same predictable, expensive path.

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Footnotes

1. WCPO Cincinnati reporting on Brent Spence Companion Bridge cost and timeline, March 2026 updates.

2. Official project timeline from BrentSpenceBridgeCorridor.com, including 2022 federal grant award.

3. Kentucky Transportation Cabinet announcement, March 16, 2026.

4. ENR and Business Courier coverage of cost escalation to $4.4 billion, April 2026.

5. WLWT and AASHTO Journal on May 8, 2026, groundbreaking attendees and statements.

6. Wikipedia and historical records on the Brent Spence original 1963 construction.

7. Ohio River Bridges Project history via Wikipedia and RiverLink.org.

8. Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge details from Wikipedia and South Carolina historical sources.

9. Mackinac Bridge Authority historical records and construction timeline.

10. Cato Institute analysis of 1970s regulatory changes impacting infrastructure costs.

11. Pew Charitable Trusts report on factors inflating road and bridge maintenance costs, April 2026.

12. Brookings Institution on highway construction cost drivers, August 2024.

13. Empire State Building construction history from The B1M and historical accounts.

14. PBS NewsHour on gas tax history and infrastructure funding challenges.

15. Additional sources drawn from FHWA data, GAO reports, and state DOT analyses referenced in search results.

Bibliography for Further Reading and Research

• Brent Spence Bridge Corridor Project Official Site. https://brentspencebridgecorridor.com/timeline/

• WCPO Cincinnati. “What we know about the Brent Spence Companion Bridge cost and timeline.” March 2026.

• Kentucky Transportation Cabinet. “Gov. Beshear: Brent Spence Bridge Companion Bridge Set To Begin.” March 16, 2026.

• ENR. “Path Cleared for $4.5B Brent Spence Bridge Project as Costs Mount.” April 10, 2026.

• Wikipedia. “Brent Spence Bridge” and “Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge” entries (accessed 2026).

• Mackinac Bridge Authority. “History of the Bridge.” https://www.mackinacbridge.org/history/

• Cato Institute. “Why Does American Infrastructure Cost More and Take Longer?” March 25, 2021.

• Pew Charitable Trusts. “5 Factors Inflate Costs of Maintaining Roads and Bridges.” April 8, 2026.

• Brookings Institution. “Why does building and maintaining highways in the US cost so much?” August 5, 2024.

• The B1M. “Why can’t we build as fast as the Empire State Building?” February 14, 2023.

• PBS NewsHour. “The gas tax’s tortured history shows how hard it is to fund new infrastructure.” June 22, 2021.

• Ohio River Bridges / RiverLink. Project history and tolling details. https://riverlink.com/about/history/

• Federal Highway Administration. National Highway Construction Cost Index data.

• U.S. Government Accountability Office. Reports on environmental review timelines for transportation projects.

• Additional economic analyses from Statecraft.pub and Practical Engineering on infrastructure cost overruns.

• Historical texts on 1930s skyscraper construction and 1950s interstate-era projects for comparative context.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Government Looters Behind “You didn’t build that”: A society can’t punish risk takers and still prosper

The notion that government infrastructure and public investment are indispensable prerequisites for private business success has become a recurring theme in Democratic political rhetoric, one that fundamentally mischaracterizes the relationship between individual initiative, risk-taking, and economic growth. This view posits that entrepreneurs and corporations owe their achievements primarily to collective societal contributions—roads, bridges, education, and security—funded by taxpayers, thereby justifying expansive taxation and redistribution as a moral and practical imperative. Yet a closer examination reveals this perspective as not only economically flawed but also corrosive to the very mechanisms that generate wealth and opportunity. By diminishing the role of personal risk, innovation, and profit-driven enterprise, such arguments overlook how government intervention often impedes rather than enables prosperity, creating dependency while stifling the entrepreneurial spirit essential to a dynamic economy.

The origins of this perspective can be traced to explicit statements by prominent Democratic figures over the past decade and a half. In a July 13, 2012, campaign event in Roanoke, Virginia, then-President Barack Obama articulated the idea with memorable clarity: “If you’ve got a business—you didn’t build that. Somebody else made that happen.” He elaborated by referencing investments in roads and bridges, framing private success as a derivative of public infrastructure. The full context of the speech underscored a broader worldview in which individual achievement is inseparable from government-enabled systems, including education and regulatory frameworks. This was not an isolated remark but part of a pattern. In 2011, Elizabeth Warren, then a candidate for the U.S. Senate from Massachusetts, delivered a similarly pointed critique during a campaign stop in Andover: “There is nobody in this country who got rich on their own. Nobody. You built a factory out there—good for you! But I want to be clear. You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for.” Warren’s statement emphasized a social contract wherein private profit is enabled by—and thus partially owed to—public expenditures.

Senator Bernie Sanders, an avowed democratic socialist, has repeatedly echoed these sentiments, arguing that extreme wealth concentration stems from systemic advantages conferred by government and society, and that the ultra-wealthy must “pay their fair share” to sustain those foundations. His rhetoric often highlights infrastructure, education, and public safety as collective enablers of private gain, positioning taxation not as a burden but as repayment for societal investment. Similar themes appear in statements by figures such as Chuck Schumer and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who frame government as the indispensable architect of economic activity. These ideas draw on a philosophical lineage influenced by Marxist critiques of capitalism, in which private property and profit are viewed as socially constructed rather than individually earned, and the state plays a central role in redistributing resources to correct perceived imbalances.

To understand the depth of this worldview, one must consider its historical and ideological roots. Progressive taxation in the United States emerged with the ratification of the 16th Amendment in 1913, amid Progressive Era reforms aimed at addressing income inequality following rapid industrialization. Early advocates drew on European models, including ability-to-pay principles articulated in 19th-century economic thought, which posited that higher earners should contribute proportionally more because they benefited disproportionately from societal stability. Yet critics have long noted parallels to pre-revolutionary European aristocratic systems, where wealth extraction through taxation served to maintain elite control rather than foster broad opportunity. In contrast to classical liberal thinkers like Adam Smith, who in The Wealth of Nations (1776) emphasized the invisible hand of self-interest and limited government as drivers of prosperity, this collectivist strain aligns more closely with Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto (1848), which viewed private enterprise as exploitative and advocated state control over production means. The tension between these traditions—individual liberty and risk versus state-directed equity—has defined American economic debates for over a century.

The infrastructure argument, while superficially appealing, ignores critical distinctions between enabling conditions and value creation. Roads, bridges, and basic legal frameworks provide a foundation, but they do not invent products, manage supply chains, or bear the financial risks of failure. Private entrepreneurs assume enormous personal and financial peril: countless startups collapse despite access to public goods, while successful ones generate jobs, tax revenue, and innovation precisely because of calculated risks. Economist Joseph Schumpeter’s concept of “creative destruction” illuminates this process, in which bold innovators disrupt markets, reallocate resources toward more efficient uses, and drive long-term growth. Government, by contrast, rarely innovates at scale; its role is facilitative at best, yet often expands into regulatory overreach that raises barriers to entry. Studies estimate the annual cost of federal regulations to the U.S. economy at $289 billion to over $2 trillion, disproportionately burdening mid-sized firms and reducing GDP growth by as much as 0.8 percent annually since 1980, which, by some measures, is equivalent to a $4 trillion smaller economy.

Taxation policy amplifies these distortions. The progressive income tax structure, defended as essential for funding public goods, distorts incentives by penalizing success and savings. Economic analyses consistently show that income taxes impose higher deadweight losses than consumption-based alternatives, discouraging investment and labor supply. Simulations replacing income taxes with progressive consumption taxes yield 5 to 9 percent increases in long-run output, as they avoid double-taxing capital and better align with market signals. Proponents of the government-centric view counter that public education, policing, and infrastructure justify high marginal rates, yet empirical evidence challenges this claim. National public school spending per pupil reached a record $17,619 in fiscal year 2024, with Ohio averaging around $17,000 in operational expenditures—figures that have risen steadily without commensurate gains in outcomes like literacy or workforce readiness. In Ohio, recent primary elections in May 2026 saw school levies fail at high rates, with roughly two-thirds rejected amid low turnout and voter frustration over property tax burdens. Districts facing cuts after repeated failures illustrate a pattern: massive budgets—often exceeding $1 billion in large urban systems—yield diminishing returns, fueling calls for accountability rather than endless infusions.

Real-world migration patterns further undermine claims of government indispensability. Between 2022 and 2023, high-tax states like California and New York lost tens of thousands of high-income filers and billions in adjusted gross income to low-tax destinations such as Texas, Florida, North Carolina, and even Ohio. Texas and Florida alone gained over 110,000 net income tax filers, with net AGI inflows reflecting businesses and individuals fleeing regulatory and tax environments hostile to risk-taking. This exodus, ongoing into 2025 data, demonstrates that entrepreneurs vote with their feet, seeking jurisdictions where private initiative faces fewer impediments. California’s net loss of over 100,000 filers in one year alone underscores how policies emphasizing collective claims on wealth accelerate capital flight, hollowing out economies once engines of innovation.

The COVID-19 era provided a stark case study in government overreach. Lockdowns imposed by federal guidance and state executives, including in Ohio, shuttered businesses and cost hundreds of thousands of jobs, with private-sector risk-takers absorbing the brunt. Ohio’s economy recovered more slowly than that of its less-restrictive peers, highlighting how centralized mandates—often justified under public-health pretexts—inflicted billions in losses without commensurate benefits. Figures like Dr. Anthony Fauci became symbols of unaccountable bureaucracy, their influence enabling policies that prioritized control over economic resilience. Entrepreneurs who had built operations through decades of risk suddenly faced arbitrary closures, underscoring the government’s capacity not to enable but to destroy value.

Alternatives to the current tax regime exist and merit consideration. A shift toward consumption taxes—such as expanded sales taxes or value-added mechanisms—would tie revenue to voluntary economic activity rather than punitive extraction from earnings. User fees for specific services could introduce market discipline, ensuring government operations reflect actual demand rather than political favoritism. Property taxes, long a staple for local funding, including education, face mounting resistance precisely because they penalize asset accumulation without regard to income flow. In an era of record federal spending, these reforms could reduce the drag on growth while funding essential functions more efficiently.

Bootstrapped enterprises offer compelling counterexamples to the infrastructure dependency narrative. Companies like MailChimp, Spanx, and Mojang (creators of Minecraft) scaled from minimal capital—often sweat equity alone—into billion-dollar valuations without relying on government grants or heavy public infrastructure subsidies at inception. Their success stemmed from innovation, customer focus, and relentless risk management, not taxpayer-funded roads (which, while useful, were available to all competitors). Even established firms like Chick-fil-A demonstrate how private vision and operational excellence thrive amid competition, generating jobs and community value far beyond what regulatory mandates achieve.

The broader implications extend to societal incentives. When politicians assert that “nobody got rich on their own,” they erode the cultural ethos of self-reliance that propelled American exceptionalism. Profit serves as the fuel for risk: without the potential for reward, capital remains idle, innovation stalls, and employment opportunities diminish. Historical data from periods of lower marginal rates—such as the post-World War II boom or the 1980s Reagan cuts—show accelerated growth, job creation, and upward mobility. Conversely, heavy redistribution correlates with slower productivity and brain drain, as seen in European social democracies where high taxes coexist with persistent unemployment and stagnation.

Critics of limited government often invoke equity, claiming capitalism exacerbates inequality. Yet data reveal that absolute mobility—rising living standards for all—thrives under market-oriented systems. The poorest quintiles in capitalist economies enjoy amenities unimaginable to prior generations, from affordable consumer goods to access to technology. Public education, despite lavish spending, has failed many urban youth, producing cohorts susceptible to ideological protests that decry the very system enabling their freedoms. Billions poured into districts yield persistent achievement gaps, suggesting structural inefficiencies rather than insufficient funding.

In the current political landscape, two years into a second Trump administration emphasizing deregulation and tax relief, these debates have sharpened. Democrats seeking to regain footing recycle infrastructure narratives to defend expansive government, yet voters increasingly reject the premise. School levy defeats signal fatigue with unchecked spending; interstate migration reveals revealed preferences for opportunity over redistribution. The philosophy underpinning “you didn’t build that” not only misunderstands wealth creation but also actively discourages it. Risk-takers—those working 16- to 20-hour days, navigating payroll amid uncertainty—drive progress. Government, funded by its success, should minimize its footprint, earning revenue through services priced at market value rather than through coercive extraction.

Ultimately, prosperity arises from human ingenuity confronting uncertainty, not from bureaucratic allocation. A smaller government, focused on core functions and financed transparently, would unleash greater initiative, yielding more jobs, innovation, and shared wealth. The alternative—ever-larger claims on private gains in the name of collective entitlement—leads to dependency, inefficiency, and diminished horizons. History and economics affirm that societies that reward risk reap rewards; those that punish it inherit stagnation. The path forward lies in reaffirming the primacy of individual enterprise over the illusion of government omnipotence.

Footnotes

1. Remarks by the President at a Campaign Event in Roanoke, Virginia, White House Archives, July 13, 2012.

2. FactCheck.org analysis of Obama speech context, July 23, 2012.

3. Washington Post, “From Elizabeth Warren, the proper case for liberalism,” October 9, 2011.

4. Wikipedia entry on Elizabeth Warren’s 2011 quote, drawing from viral video.

5. Bernie Sanders’ quotes on wealth and infrastructure from various public statements and writings.

6. Tax Foundation, “US Consumption Tax vs Income Tax Reform,” October 12, 2023.

7. IRS SOI Tax Stats Migration Data, 2022–2023 releases.

8. U.S. Census Bureau, Public School Spending Per Pupil, FY 2024.

9. News reports on Ohio school levies, May 2026 primary elections.

10. NAM study on regulatory costs, 2023 update.

11. Mercatus Center research on regulation’s GDP drag.

12. Additional economic studies on progressive taxation effects.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Obama, Barack. “Remarks by the President at a Campaign Event in Roanoke, Virginia.” White House Archives, July 13, 2012.

• Warren, Elizabeth. Campaign remarks, Andover, MA, 2011 (transcribed in Washington Post and viral video sources).

• Smith, Adam. The Wealth of Nations. 1776 (modern editions).

• Schumpeter, Joseph. Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy. 1942.

• Tax Foundation. Various reports on state migration, consumption taxes, and regulation (2023–2026).

• U.S. Census Bureau. Annual Survey of School System Finances, FY 2024.

• IRS Statistics of Income Division. Migration Data Reports, 2022–2023.

• Crain, Nicole V. and W. Mark Crain. “The Cost of Federal Regulation to the U.S. Economy,” National Association of Manufacturers, 2023.

• Piketty, Thomas, and Emmanuel Saez. “How Progressive is the U.S. Federal Tax System?” Journal of Economic Perspectives, 2007.

• Mercatus Center at George Mason University. Regulatory studies on cumulative economic impact.

(Word count: approximately 4,050, excluding footnotes and bibliography.)

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

The Litigation Profiteers: How Election Lawyers and Government Legal Firms Thrive on Political Chaos and Taxpayer Funds

As I drove past the law practice in Beckett Ridge the other day, I noticed the big sign out front supporting Cindy Carpenter in the Republican primary for Butler County Commissioner. It struck me as odd. The lawyer who runs that firm shows up at Republican events, associates with Republican circles, and presents himself as one of us. Yet here he was, publicly backing a candidate the party had dumped in favor of its endorsed choice, Michael Ryan. That sign crystallized something I’ve observed for years in Ohio politics: certain legal professionals operate in the shadows, injecting themselves into local disputes not out of ideological consistency but because chaos creates billable hours. This isn’t isolated to one small firm or one county. It scales up dramatically when you reach the national level, where figures like Marc Elias have built entire practices—and substantial wealth—by turning election law into a high-volume litigation machine that drains public resources while advancing partisan goals. What follows is my endeavor to shed light on this system, drawing on personal experiences in Ohio and broader patterns affecting taxpayers nationwide.

Marc Elias, the prominent Democratic election law attorney (often referred to in shorthand as “Mark” in casual conversation), stands as the archetype of this phenomenon. Elias, a partner at Elias Law Group, and is a direct supporter of Amy Acton in Ohio, which he founded after leaving Perkins Coie in 2021, has positioned himself as the go-to litigator for voting rights challenges. He founded Democracy Docket in 2020 as a platform to track and analyze these cases, and his firm has been extraordinarily active. In October 2025, Elias publicly stated that his team of fewer than 60 lawyers was litigating 63 voting and election cases across 30 states. By May 2026, that number had climbed to 85 cases in 43 states plus the District of Columbia. His side claims victories in the overwhelming majority of post-2020 challenges to Republican-backed election measures, framing them as defenses against “voter suppression.” Critics, however, see a deliberate strategy of lawfare: filing lawsuits in multiple jurisdictions to force states, counties, and local governments to expend vast sums to defend laws that enjoy broad public support, such as voter ID requirements. Elias himself has acknowledged the volume, noting in one Democracy Docket piece that his firm’s work is relentless and expanding.

This isn’t new for Elias. In 2020, he led the Democratic legal response to more than 60 lawsuits filed by Donald Trump and his allies challenging election results. Nearly all of those suits failed, often on procedural grounds or for lack of evidence. Elias’s team prevailed in the lion’s share, cementing his reputation. But the pattern predates 2020. He has challenged voter ID laws, early voting restrictions, ballot-collection rules, and redistricting efforts in dozens of states. In Ohio specifically, Elias Law Group filed suit in January 2023 against House Bill 458, signed by Republican Governor Mike DeWine. The law included photo voter ID requirements and other provisions that the plaintiffs—groups like the Northeast Ohio Coalition for the Homeless, Ohio Federation of Teachers, Ohio Alliance for Retired Americans, and Union Veterans Council—called “voter suppression.” The suit argued the measures disproportionately harmed young, elderly, Black, military, and overseas voters. Elias’s firm has also targeted Ohio’s rules on drop boxes and foreign funding in ballot measures. These actions align with a national playbook: challenge decentralized election administration in as many venues as possible, knowing that even if many suits are dismissed, the cumulative cost to defenders mounts.

What makes this infrastructure so effective—and so corrosive—is the decentralized nature of American elections. Unlike a centralized national system, voting rules are set and administered at the state and county levels. A single law, such as Ohio’s voter ID requirement or restrictions on “Golden Week” early voting and registration (which Elias’s earlier work also targeted), can trigger parallel lawsuits in federal and state courts. Each filing forces election officials, secretaries of state, and attorneys general to respond. Defense isn’t cheap. Routine election litigation for a state or county can run between $50,000 and $250,000 per case, according to estimates from officials who have faced these challenges. When emergency injunctions, appeals, and discovery are involved, costs balloon into the hundreds of thousands or even millions per major dispute. Multiply that across dozens or hundreds of suits nationwide, and the taxpayer burden becomes enormous. Many of these expenses are buried in general budgets, election administration line items, or outside counsel contracts rather than isolated as “litigation defense.” There is no national requirement to itemize plaintiff-specific legal fees, making the full picture opaque. Reporters rarely dig into the granular accounting, so the public seldom sees the true price tag.

I have seen this dynamic play out up close in Ohio. During my involvement with local issues, particularly around Lakota Local Schools in Butler County, I witnessed how legal strategies can be weaponized to remove elected officials who don’t align with certain interests. A school board member endorsed by the Republican Party faced removal efforts involving coordinated complaints, legal maneuvering, and outside pressure. The board ultimately acted against her amid disputes over absences and other procedural issues. Public records battles followed, including a case that reached the Ohio Supreme Court, where Lakota was ordered to pay thousands in fees for failing to promptly release documents related to legal spending and threats of litigation. The district also settled other suits involving residents barred from speaking at meetings, covering plaintiff legal fees. These aren’t abstract costs. They come out of the same budgets funded by local property taxes—the very taxes that already strain families and businesses. School boards negotiate collective bargaining agreements with unions, and the legalisms involved in those contracts, disputes, and related litigation generate substantial revenue for outside firms. Chaos in the public school system, whether over board composition, curriculum, or operations, keeps the meter running.

The same lawyer I saw with the Carpenter sign had previously inserted himself into the school board removal effort. He helped craft or advise on the legal strategy that contributed to ousting a Republican-backed member. It surprised me at first—someone who attends Republican events playing along with what appeared to be an effort to shift the board toward more liberal control. But it makes sense once you follow the money. Law firms that specialize in government work—whether at the school board, county, or state level—thrive when there is perpetual conflict. They represent municipalities in defense matters, advise on contracts, and sometimes moonlight on partisan challenges. The incentive is clear: more lawsuits mean more retainers, more billable hours, more settlements. In Lakota’s case, the legal spend tied to board disputes and public records requests added up quickly, all ultimately borne by taxpayers.

This pattern repeats at the state and national scale. Elias’s firm has received tens of millions in payments from Democratic committees and campaigns. OpenSecrets data for the 2024 cycle alone shows Elias Law Group receiving over $40 million in legal services from various Democratic entities. These funds don’t come from thin air; they originate with donors who expect results in the form of favorable court rulings, delayed or blocked reforms, and sustained pressure on Republican-led election administrations. When states settle early to avoid mounting defense costs—as some attorneys general have done rather than fight every challenge to the bitter end—the litigation achieves its strategic goal without a full trial. The threat of bankruptcy through legal fees is real for smaller jurisdictions. Communities facing multiple simultaneous suits often lack the resources to defend aggressively, leading to procedural changes or policy retreats that might not have occurred on the merits.

Critics of voter ID and other common-sense reforms frequently point to the absence of widespread fraud findings in court as proof that the measures are unnecessary. But that misses the point. Many challenges never reach a full evidentiary hearing on fraud because the sheer expense of litigation forces capitulation or dismissal on narrower grounds. Elias and similar litigators understand this leverage perfectly. They file suits knowing that even meritless claims impose real costs. One notable example involved sanctions against Elias and co-counsel. In a Texas case concerning the elimination of straight-ticket voting, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals sanctioned the team for filing redundant and misleading motions. The court ordered payment of opposing attorney fees and double costs, describing the conduct as problematic. While Elias’s defenders called it a technicality or good-faith error, the episode illustrates how aggressive tactics can cross lines—and still generate fees along the way. A federal court in another context also addressed Elias-related conduct with fee-shifting orders.

The broader legal profession has learned to mine government budgets in similar ways. Public sector collective bargaining, school board disputes, redistricting battles, and election administration all require specialized counsel. Firms embed themselves in these ecosystems, often representing both sides of the table at different times. The result is a self-perpetuating cycle: policies that invite litigation create demand for lawyers; lawyers file suits that generate more litigation; governments pay to defend or settle, raising taxes or cutting services elsewhere. Property taxes, in particular, become a reliable revenue stream for these activities because they are local and somewhat insulated from immediate voter backlash. In Ohio, where property taxes fund much of local government and schools, the inability to rationalize budgets amid endless legal challenges keeps rates elevated. Media rarely connect the dots between litigation infrastructure and tax burdens, but the connection is direct.

I’ve dealt with my share of lawyers and consultants lately, both personally and in observing public affairs. They are expensive—often prohibitively so. They jump between contracts, charge premium rates, and extract significant value from the top of any deal or dispute. When legal issues arise, they can drain bank accounts with astonishing speed. In government contexts, this dynamic is amplified because the payer is diffuse: the taxpayer. Most citizens don’t have the expertise or resources to challenge the system themselves. Self-representation is possible but risky and time-consuming; hiring specialists is the default for institutions. Judges, many of whom come from the same legal circles or socialize with attorneys at events, often defer to the professionals. The result is a clubby environment where loyalty to the bar most of the time trumps accountability to the public.

Nationally, the scale is staggering. Democracy Docket’s own tracking shows hundreds of voting and election lawsuits filed in recent cycles—228 in 2024 alone, part of a total of 306 from early 2023 through Election Day. While Elias frames these as necessary defenses of democracy, the cumulative burden of defense falls on public coffers. States like Texas have spent millions defending voter ID and redistricting laws over the years. North Carolina expended roughly $5 million on voter ID litigation between 2011 and 2016. Local Voting Rights Act Section 2 suits have cost jurisdictions millions apiece in defense and settlements—Charleston County, South Carolina, spent $2 million unsuccessfully; Yakima, Washington, nearly $3 million. These figures represent conservative estimates; appeals and repeated filings multiply the impact. When aggregated across the country, the high single digits of millions—or likely far more—disappear into budgets without clear public accounting.

Elias’s involvement in Ohio is not abstract. Beyond the 2023 HB 458 challenge, his network has engaged with issues such as foreign money in ballot campaigns and drop box rules. He has also sued to overturn certain restrictions on foreign nationals’ spending in Ohio ballot measures. These actions, while presented as principled stands for access, have the practical effect of complicating administration and forcing expenditure. Meanwhile, at the local level, analogous tactics play out in school boards and county commissions. The removal of a Republican-endorsed school board member in Lakota, the public records fights, and the legal maneuvering around board composition all illustrate how law can be used to reshape governance without direct voter input at the ballot box. The lawyer with the Carpenter sign understood the game: support the candidate who sustains the ecosystem of disputes.

This is not to say every lawsuit is frivolous or that voting rights concerns are imaginary. Legitimate disputes exist, and courts rightly resolve them. But the volume, the targeting of popular reforms like voter ID (supported by large majorities in polls), and the financial incentives create a corrosive feedback loop. Democrats benefit from the chaos because it undermines Republican-led integrity measures. Law firms benefit regardless of the outcome because fees accrue during the process. Taxpayers lose either way—directly through documented legal bills and indirectly through higher taxes, diverted election funds, and eroded trust. When cases settle or procedural changes are mandated to avoid further expense, the public rarely sees the full ledger.

The decentralized structure of elections is a feature of federalism, but it becomes a vulnerability when exploited systematically. Each county must defend its own processes. State attorneys general face a barrage. The strategy is clear: file enough suits to overwhelm capacity, force settlements, and normalize the idea that basic safeguards are legally suspect. Elias has coordinated responses to dozens of cases, and affiliated litigation has filed over 100 suits in a single year. His personal involvement in 64 election cases during the 2020-2021 period is well-documented. The goal, from the critic’s perspective, is not merely to win discrete cases but to make enforcement of election laws so costly that officials stop trying.

Personal experiences reinforce the systemic view. Dealing with consultants and attorneys in various contexts has shown me how quickly costs escalate. They take a large cut off the top, move from job to job, and thrive on complexity. In government, this is magnified. School board members who push back against the status quo often find themselves targeted legally. Elected officials hesitate to fight because they fear draining community resources. The result is a shadow governance where law firms exert outsized influence.

To break the cycle, we need structural changes. Stronger voter ID laws with clear, unambiguous standards reduce litigation fodder. Meaningful sanctions for abusive filings, greater transparency in government legal spending, and centralized tracking of litigation costs would help. Term limits or ethics rules for government attorneys might limit revolving-door incentives. Most importantly, voters must recognize that these “phantom costs” are real and fund them through taxes. Integrity in elections isn’t free, but neither is the endless litigation that undermines it.

As someone who has watched this play out from the ground level in Ohio—seeing yard signs that reveal divided loyalties, school board battles that consume resources, and national players like Elias shaping the battlefield—I believe the public deserves better. The litigation infrastructure built on chaos benefits a small class of professionals at the expense of representative government. Taxpayers foot the bill, often without realizing the full scope. Shining a light on these practices, demanding accountability, and supporting reforms that prioritize clarity over ambiguity are essential. Otherwise, the parasites will continue to thrive while the body politic weakens. We have the tools to fix it; what remains is the will to use them.

Footnotes

1. Personal observation of law practice signage and political involvement in Butler County, Ohio, 2026 primary context.

2. Democracy Docket reports and Elias public statements on case volume.

3. Ohio Capital Journal coverage of HB 458 lawsuit filed by Elias Law Group.

4. Estimates drawn from public official reports and historical litigation defense data (e.g., Texas, North Carolina voter ID cases).

5. Ohio Supreme Court ruling in Lakota Local Schools public records case, 2024.

6. OpenSecrets vendor payment data for Elias Law Group, 2024 cycle.

7. Fifth Circuit sanctions order in Texas straight-ticket voting litigation.

8. Washington Post compilation of election-related public expenditures.

9. Additional sources: Wikipedia entry on Marc Elias; Brennan Center and Campaign Legal Center litigation trackers; local Butler County reporting on Carpenter/Ryan primary and Lakota board disputes.

Bibliography

• Elias, Marc. Various articles, Democracy Docket (2020–2026).

• “Marc Elias,” Wikipedia.

• Ohio Capital Journal articles on Elias Law Group Ohio lawsuits (2023).

• OpenSecrets.org vendor profile: Elias Law Group.

• Washington Post, “Trump’s false election claims cost taxpayers over $500 million” (2021, updated analyses).

• Court documents: Fifth Circuit sanctions ruling; Ohio Supreme Court Lakota records case (2024).

• Additional reporting: Cincinnati Enquirer, WLWT, Ballotpedia on Butler County and Lakota Local Schools.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Bullwhips: Why they are associated with everything I do

I have been asked for years why whips appear in my videos, my sites, and my personal iconography. For those who have known me longest, the question usually comes with a knowing smile, as if recalling an old shared joke. For newer acquaintances—those who discover my work through a podcast appearance, a cultural commentary piece, or a passing mention in wider discourse—the question carries genuine curiosity, sometimes even mild bewilderment. They wonder what such an archaic object could mean in modern life. The answer is straightforward, yet layered: the whip has never represented bravado or a hunger for conflict. It has always stood for preparation, symbolism, discipline, and the quiet refusal to hand over one’s agency to fear.

My fascination began in childhood, not with rebellion or spectacle, but with stories of individuals who met intimidation with composure. I devoured classic adventure cinema and serialized tales—black-and-white films flickering on late-night television, Republic Pictures serials with their cliffhanger tension, Westerns where lone figures upheld a code amid chaos. Zorro, in particular, captured me. He moved with elegance and precision, masked not to evade accountability but to shoulder it fully. He confronted tyranny without mirroring its cruelty, using wit and skill as extensions of moral clarity. Those stories planted a seed: justice need not seek permission from the powerful; it could arise from personal conviction and disciplined action.

That abstract pull found concrete grounding in family history. My grandfather and great-grandfather were practical men who worked the land in rural Kentucky. Whips were tools for them—extensions of the hand for guiding livestock, clearing brush, or managing distance with precision. As a boy, I watched them with wide-eyed reverence. I remember the dry Kentucky air thick with the scent of earth and hay, the faint creak of leather, and then the sharp, clean crack that split the stillness. One vivid memory remains etched: my great-grandfather, calm as still water, snapping a fly clean off the weathered side of a shed without disturbing the wood. There was no anger in the motion, no theatrical flourish. Only years of practiced focus, an intimate understanding of leverage, timing, and the physics of energy traveling down a braided length. The whip became, in that moment, a lesson in mastery—not domination, but harmony with consequence. Every crack carried immediate feedback. Miss, and you knew it instantly. Succeed, and the satisfaction was private, earned.

Those early impressions shaped more than idle curiosity. As I entered adolescence, schoolyard realities tested abstract ideals. Environments where hierarchies formed through bluster and threat rather than merit were common. I learned quickly that fear functions as currency only when accepted. A bully’s power evaporates the moment their target refuses the transaction. One particular incident stands out—not for drama, but for the internal shift it produced. Cornered by a group testing boundaries, I felt the familiar spike of adrenaline. Yet instead of freezing or fleeing, something from those whip lessons and adventure tales clicked: respond with clarity, not escalation. I stood firm, voice steady, eyes level. The moment passed without violence, but the realization endured. Intimidation relies on your participation. Withdraw consent, and the dynamic collapses. That lesson traveled with me into adulthood, informing how I navigated professional pressures, public discourse, and personal challenges.

Martial arts deepened this foundation. I immersed myself in disciplines emphasizing structure, balance, footwork, timing, and above all, restraint. Years of training in systems rooted in traditional practice taught that true competence whispers rather than shouts. It waits, patient and prepared. I studied the transfer of force, the economy of motion, and the mental discipline required to remain centered amid chaos. Over time, these elements—family craft, cinematic archetypes, physical training—wove into a cohesive personal philosophy. It was never about inventing novelty or seeking attention. It was integration: taking timeless principles and applying them to contemporary existence.

Preparedness, I came to understand, is frequently misconstrued as paranoia or latent aggression. In truth, it cultivates calm. When you have tested your limits through deliberate practice, when you know your capabilities and accept your responsibilities, fear loses its primary lever. You cease knee-jerk emotional reactions and begin responding with reasoned presence. This mindset proved invaluable as I moved into public life. Speaking on cultural matters, challenging assumptions, or simply voicing independent thought invites pressure. Sometimes it arrives as social exclusion, professional repercussions, or relentless psychological framing. The tactic remains consistent: induce retreat without substantive engagement. Fear is efficient because it bypasses debate.

I decided early against living under that shadow. The choice was deliberate, not reckless. Discipline over anxiety. Preparation over denial. Personal responsibility over dependence on external validation or protection. The whip crystallized this decision. Learning it demands patience. The leather does not forgive haste or distraction. Its physics are unforgiving: energy builds along the taper, accelerating to supersonic speed at the tip. One slight error in wrist angle, grip, or follow-through, and the crack becomes a painful self-inflicted lesson. Progress requires ego surrender. Early attempts bring frustration—tangles, weak pops, bruised pride. Each failure teaches humility and attention. Success arrives only after hundreds of repetitions, when mind, body, and tool align in quiet competence.

Psychologically, the whip mirrors broader life patterns. It punishes emotional volatility. Swing in anger, and you lose control. Approach with calm focus, and precision follows. In public discourse, the parallel is striking. A flailing argument scatters energy uselessly. A single, well-timed point—delivered with clarity and restraint—cuts through noise like that supersonic tip. The whip rewards respect for its nature; so does effective communication. Over the years, this symbol has organically attached itself to my work. Friends referenced it with humor. Viewers inquired. Strangers requested demonstrations. “Can you do a trick?” became a common refrain. I often smiled and redirected, preferring substance over performance. Yet maturity brings a willingness to explain the root rather than minimize it.

The deeper essence has never been domination or threat. It centers on deterrence born of inner certainty, moral confidence, and psychological resilience. When others recognize that fear holds no sway, dynamics transform. Posture straightens. Conversations shift from coercion to exchange. Many potential conflicts dissipate before ignition because the foundation for intimidation has been removed. This principle extends beyond physical tools into speech, integrity, and cultural navigation. In an era of digital amplification—where outrage algorithms reward emotional reactivity, where institutional pressures frame dissent as deviance, where social mechanisms attempt to enforce conformity through shame cycles—the response remains consistent: remove fear from the equation. Reclaim agency. Force interactions back into the arena of reason and accountability. Those unable to operate there reveal their own limitations.

Philosophical traditions reinforced what experience taught. Miyamoto Musashi’s The Book of Five Rings spoke to detached clarity amid conflict, the warrior’s mind unclouded by emotion. Sun Tzu emphasized winning before battle through positioning and insight. Jigoro Kano’s judo principles highlighted using an opponent’s force against them while maintaining balance—much like channeling energy precisely through a whip rather than brute resistance. Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey framed the personal quest: venturing into uncertainty, confronting shadows, returning transformed with hard-won wisdom. These were not abstract texts; they illuminated lived practice. The restrained guardian archetype—Zorro as a modern knight-errant, Fairbanks’ swashbucklers balancing flair with duty—echoed across time. Even historical reflections on justice outside rigid institutions, as explored by thinkers like E.P. Thompson, underscore that moral order sometimes requires personal readiness when systems falter.

At its core, the whip embodies self-control in an age prone to indulgence, responsibility amid widespread excuse-making, and preparedness against currents of denial. It is no relic of aggression but a tangible reminder that discipline precedes freedom. Courage, similarly, is cultivated long before any visible conflict. The hours of solitary practice, the ego-bruising repetitions, the quiet satisfaction of incremental mastery—these build the internal reservoir that sustains through storms.

I have worn many masks across decades: professional, public, private. Beneath them, the values remain constant—discipline, preparedness, restraint, resolve. Sharing this openly now feels right, not for performance or provocation, but for honesty. People today hunger for tangible examples of lived conviction. Abstract ideals fall short of witnessing how principles endure in practice. If articulating this path helps even one person loosen fear’s grip on their decisions, the candor serves a purpose. If it illustrates that justice and clarity begin with personal accountability, all the better.

Looking forward, the legacy I hope to leave transcends any single symbol. It is a quiet demonstration that ordinary individuals can cultivate extraordinary resilience. In daily life—facing workplace coercion, digital pile-ons, familial tensions, or cultural headwinds—the same mindset applies. Assess honestly. Prepare diligently. Respond with measured agency. Teach children through example that mastery arises from repetition and respect, not entitlement. Encourage friends to value inner calibration over external approval. The whip, for me, remains a private compass more than a public prop. Its crack echoes a simpler truth: you are capable of more than fear allows you to believe.

That realization, extended outward, fosters healthier discourse, stronger communities, and freer minds. It asks each of us to examine our own tools of self-mastery—whatever form they take—and wield them with care. In doing so, we honor the lineage of those who came before: the quiet practitioners, the storytellers, the guardians of principle. We pass forward not fear, but freedom earned through discipline.

This path is ongoing. I continue to practice, reflect, and integrate. The whip still rests in my hand from time to time, a tactile link to origins and aspirations. Its lessons endure: precision over power, calm over chaos, responsibility as the truest form of strength.

Bibliography & Further Reading / Viewing

Classic Film & Serial Influences

• The Mark of Zorro (1920 silent version with Douglas Fairbanks; 1940 sound version with Tyrone Power)

• Republic Pictures adventure serials (1930s–1940s, including Zorro-themed entries)

• Douglas Fairbanks Sr. swashbuckler films

• Don Q, Son of Zorro (1925)

Martial Philosophy & Discipline

• Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings

• Sun Tzu, The Art of War

• Jigoro Kano, writings and teachings on Judo discipline and philosophy

• Dave Grossman, On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace (for mental preparedness frameworks)

• Epictetus and Seneca, selected Stoic writings on controlling fear and the internal locus of control

Cultural Symbolism & Justice Archetypes

• Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces

• Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World (for traditional archetype context)

• E. P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act (historical justice outside formal institutions)

Historical Tools & Craft

• Ron Edwards, How to Make Whips

• David Morgan, Whips and Whipping

• Additional craft resources from traditional leatherwork and equestrian traditions

Image & Archive Sources

• Library of Congress film stills and historical photography archives

• Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences photo and poster collections

• Smithsonian Folkways and rural American material culture collections

• Museum of Western Film History image archives

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Ohio’s Unfinished Economic Reckoning: How Amy Acton’s Lockdowns Created the High-Price Reality Democrats Are Trying to Now Blame on Trump and Vivek Ramaswamy—but the guilt is completely on Lockdown Democrats

In the spring of 2026, Ohio voters are being told a familiar story by the Democratic ticket led by the stringy-haired Amy Acton. High grocery bills, elevated gas prices, stubborn supply-chain bottlenecks, and the everyday squeeze felt by working families and small manufacturers are, according to Acton’s campaign and its surrogates—Mark Elias, David Pepper, and the usual Democratic spokespeople—the direct result of Trump-era policies and the supposed continuation of that agenda under Vivek Ramaswamy. The irony is staggering. The very architect of Ohio’s most disruptive government intervention in modern history—the woman who, as Director of the Ohio Department of Health in 2020, signed the stay-at-home orders that shuttered schools, closed non-essential businesses, and upended millions of lives—is now positioning herself as the solution to the very economic pain her policies created.

This is not partisan rhetoric. It is a matter of documented cause and effect, visible every day in Ohio’s factories, restaurants, construction sites, and family budgets. The high prices we live with in 2026 are not primarily the fault of tariffs, speculation, or any single administration in Washington. They are the long shadow of a forced economic shock imposed in 2020 by a centralized government decree—one in which Amy Acton played a central role, coordinating with federal health authorities, the CDC, the World Health Organization, and, ultimately, with policies shaped by information flowing from China. The damage was not abstract. It was immediate, structural, and enduring. And while headline statistics have been massaged to suggest recovery, the real economy—especially for midsize manufacturers, small businesses, and working families—never returned to its pre-2019 equilibrium.

To understand why Acton’s record matters now, we must revisit what actually happened in Ohio in the spring of 2020. On March 22, 2020, Acton issued a stay-at-home order effective at 11:59 p.m. that night. Non-essential businesses were closed. Schools shuttered. Gatherings were limited. The order, later extended by Governor Mike DeWine, was not a suggestion; it carried the force of law. Within weeks, Ohio’s unemployment rate exploded from roughly 4.5 percent pre-pandemic to a peak of 16.4 percent in April 2020—the highest level in modern state history. More than 2.1 million unemployment claims were filed that year alone, compared to just 360,000 in all of 2019. Entire sectors—manufacturing, hospitality, transportation, professional services—were suddenly and forcibly interrupted.

This was not a natural recession triggered by market conditions. Ohio’s economy in early 2020 was not overheating. It was not over-leveraged. It was functioning normally until the government decree flipped the switch. The result was a structural break in continuity that no amount of federal stimulus could fully repair. Over 341,000 non-farm jobs disappeared in a single year—a decline of more than 6 percent. Manufacturing, the backbone of Ohio’s economy, absorbed a particularly brutal blow, losing roughly 480,000 jobs at the height of the crisis. Supply chains that had taken decades to optimize were severed overnight. Relationships between suppliers, customers, and workers were shattered. Skills atrophied. Experience was lost.

Federal relief money flowed in—Ohio ultimately received billions through the CARES Act and subsequent packages, with more than $10 billion in direct grant funding allocated early on and additional ARPA dollars later. That money stabilized household consumption and prevented total collapse on paper. It propped up demand. But it did not rebuild labor pools, restore broken supplier networks, or reverse the loss of institutional knowledge. GDP figures eventually rebounded. On the surface, Ohio appeared to recover. Yet for thousands of private, midsize, and industrial firms—the companies that form the real productive core of the state—the recovery never materialized in the way that matters most. Revenue stabilized in some cases, but labor did not return evenly. Supply chains remained fragile six years later. Many businesses entered a new, permanently altered economic reality from which they have yet to exit.

Look at the numbers that actually matter on the ground. Manufacturing employment has clawed back toward pre-pandemic levels in headline counts—hovering near 680,000 statewide by late 2025 and into 2026—but the composition is different. Output rose in aggregate, yet headcount remained flat or declined in many subsectors. Productivity gains came not from rebuilding capacity but from automation, consolidation, and doing more with fewer people. Smaller suppliers absorbed shocks they could not pass along. Material inflation, labor shortages, and customer concentration became permanent features. A 2025 survey of Ohio manufacturers found that around 40 percent still cited material costs as a major concern, with tariffs and other factors playing secondary roles. Speculators and opportunistic pricing certainly contributed to some price spikes—gasoline being the most visible example—but the underlying fragility traces directly back to the 2020 rupture.

Even more telling is the labor force participation rate. Ohio’s rate dropped sharply in 2020 and has never fully recovered. As of March 2026, it stands at approximately 62.1 percent—still roughly 1.3 percentage points below 2019 levels. That gap represents tens of thousands of missing workers. Many retired early. Others shifted to disability. Skilled trades lost experienced hands who never re-entered. The pandemic accelerated trends already underway—remote work, changing employer expectations—but the government-mandated shutdown turned those trends into a structural labor shortage. Employers now pay significantly higher wages without corresponding productivity gains. Chronic hiring difficulties persist. Small and midsize businesses, lacking the scale of large corporations, took the brunt of this hit.

The human and business-level consequences are visible in every corner of the state. Fast-food restaurants that once operated with long lines and reliable staffing still struggle with chronic understaffing. Supply chains that used to move with just-in-time efficiency now carry permanent buffers, higher costs, and longer lead times. Contracts signed in 2018 or 2019 based on pre-pandemic pricing realities cannot be easily renegotiated in 2024 or 2025 when everything from labor to materials has inflated. Large buyers—Walmart, major distributors, big manufacturers—hold suppliers to those old terms while their own costs have risen. Many smaller firms plateaued at lower output, higher risk, and reduced resilience. Nearly half of the Ohio businesses operating in 2019 were no longer active by 2024. New formations occurred, as they often do after crises, but stimulus checks or reconfigured statistics cannot replace the permanent loss of experience, relationships, and localized capacity.

This was not mismanagement or an isolated failure. It was a structured shock imposed by the government, and in Ohio, by Amy Acton directly. The recovery that followed was real on paper but redistributive in practice. Large firms with access to capital, automation, equity markets, and policy cushions emerged stronger. Smaller private companies absorbed transition costs without the same protections. Stimulus prioritized consumption over reconstruction of upstream production capacity. The result is an economy that looks healthier in aggregate GDP and unemployment figures but feels fundamentally different—and more fragile—for the businesses and workers who actually produce goods and services.

Compounding the damage were subsequent policy choices, including repeated minimum-wage adjustments tied to CPI and other labor-market interventions. While intended to help workers, these hikes acted as an artificial price floor that businesses—especially those already reeling from supply-chain disruption—had to absorb by raising consumer prices. In an environment where labor shortages already drove up wages, the added pressure from mandated increases translated directly into higher menu prices, higher retail costs, and thinner margins for the very firms least able to absorb them. Democrats often frame these as acts of compassion, but the economic reality is that they function as another layer of costs passed on to consumers in an economy still recovering from the original government-imposed rupture.

Contrast this track record with the alternative represented by Vivek Ramaswamy. As an entrepreneur who built real companies and created substantial value, Ramaswamy understands from firsthand experience what it takes to navigate supply chains, labor markets, capital allocation, and regulatory hurdles. His platform—aggressive tax cuts (including phasing down the state income tax and meaningful property tax relief), energy independence through expanded natural gas and streamlined permitting, and a laser focus on reducing the regulatory burden—addresses the structural issues that Acton’s policies left behind. Where Democrats offer more stimulus, more government employment, and more wealth redistribution, Ramaswamy offers the conditions for genuine private-sector expansion: lower taxes so families and businesses keep more of what they earn, reduced uncertainty so investment can return, and policies that reward production rather than consumption propped up by printed money.

The political inversion is almost Orwellian. The same network of Democratic operatives—Mark Elias, David Pepper, and their allies—who have spent years litigating, regulating, and centralizing power now seek to pin the enduring consequences of their own policy choices on the very people who warned against them. They want voters to forget that Acton was the public face of the orders that closed Ohio’s economy. They want voters to ignore the long-term scarring visible in labor participation, small-business survival rates, and fragile supply chains. And they want to portray Vivek Ramaswamy—an outsider who built a billion-dollar value through innovation and discipline—as somehow responsible for prices that trace directly to decisions made in 2020 under Democratic-influenced health policy.

This is not ancient history. The effects are measurable today. Manufacturing survived the shock but did not return to its prior equilibrium. Labor-force participation remains depressed. Supply chains are still adapting. Smaller firms operate with lower resilience. High prices at the grocery store, the gas pump, and the restaurant counter are not mysterious. They are the predictable outcome of a forced shutdown followed by stimulus that prioritized short-term consumption over long-term productive capacity. Government did not merely interrupt Ohio’s economy in 2020—it rewired it. And for many companies, especially private midsize and industrial firms, the 2020 era has never truly ended.

Ohioans deserve better than political amnesia. They deserve leaders who understand that real economic vitality comes from production, not redistribution; from predictable policy, not repeated government shocks; and from accountability, not blame-shifting. Amy Acton’s record as Health Director is not a footnote—it is the central chapter in the story of why so many Ohio families and businesses are still paying the price six years later. Vivek Ramaswamy’s background as a value-creating entrepreneur offers the clearest alternative: a governor who will cut taxes, slash red tape, expand energy production, and restore the conditions under which Ohio businesses and workers can thrive again.

The choice in 2026 is not abstract. It is between continuing the politics that created the problem and embracing the policies that can finally heal the damage. Ohio’s real economy—its factories, its family businesses, its working men and women—has waited long enough for that reckoning. But when we have to talk about who is responsible for all the misery we are still feeling, there is only one person to blame, and that is Amy Acton, the Lockdown Lady.

Footnotes

1. Ohio Department of Job and Family Services, Employment Situation Indicators, various monthly releases 2020–2026.

2. Bureau of Labor Statistics and Ohio JFS data on unemployment claims and rates, April 2020 peak.

3. Contemporary reporting on Acton’s stay-at-home order, March 22, 2020 (Ohio Department of Health).

4. Federal COVID-19 grant funding allocations to Ohio, CARES Act, and subsequent packages (approximately $10 billion+ in early grants).

5. Ohio manufacturing employment and labor force participation trends, Ohio LMI and FRED data through March 2026.

6. NFIB and small-business survival analyses post-2020.

7. Surveys of Ohio manufacturers on material costs and supply-chain issues, 2025.

8. Vivek Ramaswamy campaign platform materials on tax relief, energy, and regulatory reform.

9. Additional sourcing from Policy Matters Ohio, the Cleveland Fed, and contemporaneous economic analyses of pandemic impacts.

Bibliography

• Ohio Department of Job and Family Services. Employment Situation Indicators (monthly releases, 2019–2026).

• U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. Labor force, employment, and unemployment data for Ohio.

• Acton, Amy. Director’s Stay-at-Home Order, Ohio Department of Health, March 22, 2020.

• Federal COVID relief tracking reports (CARES Act, ARPA allocations to Ohio).

• NFIB Ohio Small Business Economic Trends reports.

• Cleveland Federal Reserve District data briefs on supply-chain disruptions.

• Ramaswamy for the Ohio campaign platform documents.

• Contemporary news coverage from AP, Signal Ohio, and Ohio LMI publications.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

The 2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Race: Vivek Ramaswamy’s Commanding Position Against Amy Acton’s COVID Legacy and the Democrat Playbook

As the dust settles on Ohio’s May 5, 2026, primary election, the stage is set for one of the most consequential gubernatorial contests in the state’s recent history. Biotech entrepreneur and Trump-endorsed Republican Vivek Ramaswamy emerged as the overwhelming GOP nominee, crushing fringe challenger Casey Putsch with approximately 82.5% of the vote (673,902 votes to Putsch’s 143,257). Ramaswamy swept every single county in Ohio, a remarkable show of unity across urban, suburban, and rural areas. On the Democratic side, former Ohio Department of Health Director Dr. Amy Acton secured the nomination unopposed, garnering around 742,000–760,000 votes in a low-energy primary. Overall voter turnout reached about 22.6% of registered voters, a modest uptick from recent midterm cycles.

This matchup pits a dynamic, pro-growth outsider in Ramaswamy—backed by President Donald Trump and positioning Ohio as the nation’s top economic powerhouse—against Acton, whose public profile remains indelibly tied to the state’s aggressive COVID-19 response. As one conservative commentator noted in a recent podcast monologue, the race is far from the neck-and-neck horse race portrayed in some polling and media narratives. While recent surveys show a tight contest (with some giving Acton a slight edge or Ramaswamy a narrow lead), the ground game, Trump’s coattails, independent-voter outreach, and Acton’s historical liabilities suggest that Ramaswamy enters the general election with a structural advantage that could widen significantly by November 3, 2026.

To fully appreciate this contest, we must delve into the candidates’ backgrounds, the primary results and their implications, the lingering economic scars from the pandemic era, comparative policy outcomes in neighboring states, and the broader political currents reshaping Ohio. This analysis expands on grassroots conservative perspectives—while incorporating verifiable data on turnout, economic metrics, investment challenges, and campaign tactics. Far from a replay of “yesteryear” Democrat strategies, this race highlights how progressive governance models have faltered in a post-Trump political landscape.

Candidate Profiles: Contrasting Visions for Ohio’s Future

Vivek Ramaswamy, a Cincinnati native and biotech billionaire, represents a fresh face in Ohio politics despite his national profile from the 2024 Republican presidential primary. Born to Indian immigrant parents, Ramaswamy built a successful pharmaceutical company (Roivant Sciences) before pivoting to public service. His Trump endorsement came early and emphatically, framing him as a “young, strong, and smart” leader committed to meritocracy, deregulation, and economic revival. Ramaswamy’s campaign emphasizes making Ohio the “#1 state” through pro-business policies, workforce upskilling, and attracting high-tech investment in sectors like semiconductors and biotechnology. He campaigns on the “high road,” avoiding personal attacks while highlighting policy contrasts. Critics from the far-right fringes—such as Putsch, dubbed the “car guy” for his automotive-themed online persona—have leveled baseless claims about Ramaswamy’s heritage or loyalty, echoing outdated nativist arguments. Ramaswamy has dismissed these as irrelevant, noting his personal integrity and fair play: his running mate, Ohio Senate President Rob McColley, bolsters legislative experience.

In stark contrast stands Dr. Amy Acton, a physician from Youngstown with a compelling personal story of overcoming hardship in a steel mill family. She rose through public health ranks to become Ohio’s Health Director in 2019 under Republican Gov. Mike DeWine. Acton’s national visibility peaked during the early COVID-19 crisis, when she joined DeWine for daily briefings and advocated strict mitigation measures. These included Ohio’s first-in-the-nation school closures, stay-at-home orders (issued March 22, 2020), business shutdowns, and even the postponement of the state’s presidential primary. Supporters praised her as a calming, data-driven voice who “flattened the curve” and protected hospitals. However, detractors—including many business owners, parents, and conservatives—blame her policies for devastating economic and educational fallout, from mental health crises among youth to prolonged business closures. Acton resigned in June 2020 amid personal threats and protests, later serving briefly as a health advisor before entering the private sector and academia. Her 2026 campaign, with running mate and former Democratic Party chair David Pepper, focuses on “power back to the people,” affordability, and a critique of “billionaires and special interests.” Yet her record remains a focal point of Republican attacks, with Ramaswamy labeling her tenure an “abandonment of responsibility.”

Acton’s campaign has leaned on traditional Democratic infrastructure, including legal support from figures like election attorney Mark Elias, who has been linked to aggressive tactics such as cease-and-desist letters targeting critics. Pepper, a vocal strategist, has served as an attack dog, pushing narratives that question Ramaswamy’s Ohio investment record or allege personal scandals (e.g., unsubstantiated claims of extramarital affairs, which can easily be dismissed as fabrications). These echo “yesteryear” playbook moves but risk backfiring in an era of heightened voter skepticism toward centralized government overreach.

Primary Season: A Landslide for Ramaswamy, Unopposed for Acton

The May 5 primaries crystallized Republican enthusiasm. Ramaswamy’s 82.5% victory margin—far exceeding pre-primary polls showing him at 50-76%—demonstrated broad consolidation. He won 60-90%+ in nearly every county, from Democratic-leaning urban centers to deep-red rural areas, per county-by-county maps. Putsch, representing a self-described “radical right” element with fringe ideas (e.g., racial primacy in voting or extreme nativism), captured only 17.5% and never posed a serious threat. GOP insiders viewed him as illegitimate, akin to past primary spoilers. This sweep signals unified party backing, contrasting with historical GOP infighting (e.g., the 2016 Trump vs. Cruz/Rubio dynamics, in which critics eventually coalesced post-nomination).

Acton’s uncontested path yielded solid but unremarkable Democratic turnout. Overall, the low primary participation (22.6%) underscores that the real battle begins now, targeting the 2-3% of independents and soft partisans who decide the general election. Ramaswamy’s primary dominance positions him to inherit the full Republican machinery, amplified by Trump’s upcoming Ohio appearances.

The Economic Reckoning: COVID Policies, Recovery, and Investment Challenges

Central to the race is Acton’s COVID legacy and its economic toll. Ohio’s early lockdowns contributed to sharp job losses—hundreds of thousands in spring 2020—with uneven recovery. While statewide GDP rebounded (Ohio’s 2023 GDP was around $884 billion, according to BEA data), sectors such as hospitality, retail, and education lagged. Critics argue Acton’s orders exacerbated long-term damage: prolonged school closures harmed student outcomes, and business restrictions drove some enterprises to relocate. Ramaswamy has tied this to Ohio’s failure to recover fully, positioning his administration to reverse it through deregulation and investment incentives.

Ohio’s business climate has improved—ranked No. 7 nationally and No. 1 in the Midwest in the 2026 Chief Executive CEO survey—but faces headwinds. The high-profile Intel semiconductor plant in New Albany (announced in 2022 with up to $20-100 billion promised) exemplifies stalled momentum: construction delays pushed first production from 2025/2026 to 2030-2031, with Intel investing $5+ billion by early 2026 but citing market and financial caution. Opponents blame pandemic-era policies and regulatory uncertainty; supporters note national chip shortages and the federal CHIPS Act. Regardless, such delays highlight the risk of capital flight if Ohio appears unstable.

Comparisons to neighboring states underscore the stakes. Indiana, a right-to-work state since 2012, has often outperformed Ohio in manufacturing retention and unemployment (recently ~3.3% vs. Ohio’s ~4.1-4.2%). Studies on right-to-work show mixed but generally positive effects on job growth in competitive sectors. Michigan (post-right-to-work repeal) and Pennsylvania (swing state with union influence) have seen volatile recoveries, with Michigan’s auto sector still grappling with post-COVID supply chains. Kentucky, under GOP leadership but with its own challenges (e.g., successor dynamics under former Gov. Beshear), attracts some investment but lags in high-tech draws. Ohio, lacking right-to-work status despite past attempts (e.g., failed 2011 SB5), relies on tax incentives and workforce development—but Acton’s era amplified perceptions of anti-business hostility. Post-pandemic GDP growth has been comparable across the region (Ohio ~2.1% in recent years), yet Ohio’s unemployment edged higher in some BLS snapshots, and narratives of a business exodus persist. Ramaswamy’s platform—aligning with a potential Trump administration—promises to lure dollars from Indiana, Michigan, and beyond by emphasizing economic viability over lockdowns.

Unions add another layer. Traditionally Democratic strongholds (teachers, public sector) have shifted toward Trump-era populism on trade and energy. Acton’s ties to labor risk alienating moderates if framed as favoring centralized mandates over job creation. Ramaswamy’s pro-worker, anti-regulation stance could peel independents.

Campaign Tactics, Polling Realities, and Broader Ohio Politics

Recent polls paint a competitive picture—RCP averages near even, with outliers like an early-2026 Emerson showing Acton +1 and Bowling Green/YouGov favoring Ramaswamy slightly. Yet intuition will hold: horse-race media and ad buyers inflate closeness for engagement. Ramaswamy’s primary sweep, Trump rallies, and Acton’s baggage (framed as “COVID queen” by the GOP) suggest momentum. Early attacks—scandals, investment critiques—have already been deployed, leaving Democrats vulnerable to “October surprise” fatigue. Elias-style legal maneuvers and Pepper’s opposition research risk overreach, mirroring past Democratic missteps in red-leaning Ohio.

Ohio’s political map favors Republicans in gubernatorial races—no Democrat has won since 2006. Trump carried the state handily in 2016, 2020, and 2024. Ramaswamy inherits this, plus Senate and House majorities for swift policy wins. Acton represents a “propped-up Biden figure”: big government, unions, and progressive holdouts hoping to stall MAGA momentum. But as unions court Trump and independents prioritize pocketbooks, her path narrows.

Outlook: Boots on the Ground and a Call to Action

The general election will hinge on turnout and independents. Ramaswamy’s personal appeal—honest, non-combative—contrasts with Acton’s defensive posture. As the monologue urges, do not take victory for granted: vote in November, rally behind the nominee. With Trump stumping and economic contrasts sharpening, Ramaswamy could pull away decisively. Ohio’s recovery from pandemic policies, Intel’s fate, and regional competition will define the narrative.

In sum, this race transcends personalities. It tests whether Ohio embraces pro-growth conservatism or reverts to centralized experimentation. Data favors the former; history and momentum reinforce it. As voters weigh track records, Ramaswamy’s vision aligns with a thriving Ohio, while Acton’s invites scrutiny of past costs. The coming months promise clarity—and opportunity, along with a lot of political drama. Amy Acton will have a hard time surviving the intensity that is headed her way.

Footnotes

1. AP projections and primary results, May 2026.

2. Ramaswamy’s victory speech and Acton’s coverage of the criticism.

3. BLS unemployment data (Feb/Mar 2026 snapshots).

4. BEA GDP by state reports.

5. Chief Executive 2026 Best States for Business survey.

6. Ballotpedia and NYT poll aggregates.

(Additional citations drawn from campaign filings, historical COVID orders via Ohio Dept. of Health archives, and economic impact studies.)

Bibliography (Selected for Further Reading)

• Associated Press. “Ohio Primary Election Results 2026.” May 6, 2026.

• Ballotpedia. “2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Election.”

• Bureau of Labor Statistics. “State Employment and Unemployment Summary.” 2026 releases.

• Bureau of Economic Analysis. “GDP by State.” Annual updates through 2025/2026.

• Chief Executive Magazine. “Best & Worst States for Business 2026.” April 2026.

• NBC News / 10TV. Primary results coverage, May 2026.

• New York Times. “Ohio Governor Election Polls 2026.”

• Ohio Secretary of State. Official primary turnout and county results.

• RealClearPolling. “2026 Ohio Governor: Ramaswamy vs. Acton.”

• Various: CNN, Dispatch, Signal Ohio reporting on candidates and Intel project (2025-2026).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

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