Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

The USDA and Department of Health and Human Services has issued a new food pyramid, and it’s simultaneously great and appalling. On extreme upside, the Trump administration, run by someone who enjoys a quarter pounder with cheese for lunch, recommends a diet rich in protein, vegetables and fruits, while demonizing sugars, processed foods, and empty carbohydrates. On the other hand, it indicates that saturated fats are good for us. The pyramid features a thick juicy steak at the top of the pyramid, next to a roasted chicken, an enormous broccoli floret, a chunk of Emmental, a meatloaf and a packet of frozen peas. The next level down is avocado, olive oil, canned green beans, salmon and a pear.

Olivia Nuzzi, the young and talented Trump reporter, committed the apparently cardinal sin of becoming romantically entangled with a subject. And, worse than that, the subject was widely reviled, particularly among journalists: Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the anti-Kennedy. And then it turned out –her jilted fiancé, another journalist, was telling all – that there were other politicians she’d been involved with, too. This scandal, which has consumed the journalism world, was good for me because it forced the heaps of opprobrium I was getting from other journalists for my emails with the reviled Jeffrey Epstein off the front page.

“Some people will correct me. They love to correct me. Even though I’m right about everything,” President Trump was saying, but no one was about to correct the President at this December cabinet meeting, the last in a series of extremely long such affairs that TV has carried this year. At this point, YouTube might as well set up a 24-hour livestream from inside the White House, like the sorts of stunts that were popular at the dawn of the personal video era. Trump is always with us, and talking at us. Before the roundtable of cabinet members listing their accomplishments and kissing the boss’s butt, Trump talked for nearly 30 minutes.

​​Olivia Nuzzi’s memoir about her scandalous affair with Robert F. Kennedy Jr., then a presidential candidate and now the country’s leading health bureaucrat, comes out next month. She’s called it American Canto, not to be confused with the bestselling novel Bel Canto, about terrorists who occupy an opera-themed party at a South American mansion. Instead, Nuzzi has trapped us all in the opera of her mind, and there’s no escape.  ​Nuzzi has the apparent ability to turn otherwise rational, educated men into blubbering masses of jelly.

For the past month, the tone among Washington insiders was dour as it related to the confirmation prospects of Donald Trump’s edgier nominees. Sure, the argument went, Marco Rubio is a slam dunk, and no one takes issue with Doug Burgum or Sean Duffy. But the attitude toward Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s nomination for health and human services secretary and Tulsi Gabbard’s nomination as director of national intelligence were grim. More than a dozen Republican insiders in the past week assured me that one or both nominations were doomed, citing the opposition from the Wall Street Journal editorial page, legacy newspaper columnists such as David French and Marc Thiessen and the editors of National Review, who took a particularly aggressive stance against Gabbard. All of them lost.

Elon Musk’s influence on the federal government has reached new heights, with a memo going out to millions of federal employees with a simple message: get on board or take a permanent, (and expensive!) paid vacation.The Trump administration just sent a DoGE-infused ultimatum to much of the federal workforce: opt in to working in your office or take our buyout. According to the White House, “We’re five years past Covid and just 6 percent of federal employees work full-time in office.” President Donald Trump and Musk have made it clear that a return to in-person work is nonnegotiable. The ultimatum, described in a post as “a fork in the road,” would bring the federal government in-line with where the private sector has been moving in recent months and years: back to the office.

When US officials and former officials face lethal dangers for the work they did in office, they deserve protection from the country they served. That’s true whether they served the country well or poorly, whether they can pay for that protection themselves — most cannot — and whether they are loathed by the next administration.  Those are pitiful reasons for denying them protection. If today’s officials, or yesterday’s, are threatened because of what they did in office, they deserve protection. They may not deserve our gratitude. They may not deserve our thanks and appreciation. That depends on our assessment of their performance. But they deserve our protection from domestic terrorists and foreign actors such as Iran.

Four days away from inauguration, the Senate is moving quickly with confirmation hearings for President-elect Donald Trump’s cabinet. The saga began with defense secretary nominee Pete Hegseth’s contentious hearing Tuesday and quickly moved to half-a-dozen other hearings the next day, including that of secretary of state nominee, Senator Marco Rubio.  This morning, Congress continued with more hearings for top Trump nominees, including one with treasury secretary pick Scott Bessent, as well as with former representative Lee Zeldin, former governor Doug Burgum and former NFL player Scott Turner — who were nominated to lead the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department of Interior and the Department of Housing and Urban Development, respectively.