Trump is normalizing things that would have been scandals in his first term
Trump is normalizing things that would have been scandals in his first term
From FBI loyalty demands to Supreme Court pressure
Trump is normalizing things that would – Donald Trump’s second term has seen a shift in how his actions are perceived, with behaviors once labeled as scandalous now appearing routine. This transformation is epitomized by his recent remarks suggesting that Supreme Court justices he appointed should demonstrate greater allegiance to him than they have. The claim contrasts sharply with the first term, when the FBI director he had just dismissed, James Comey, testified that Trump had explicitly asked for his loyalty. At the time, this was seen as a major issue: not only did it challenge the independence of the FBI, but Comey was also investigating Trump’s conduct, raising questions about impartiality.
“They have to do the right thing,” Trump said of the justices, “but it’s really OK for them to be loyal to the person that appointed them to ‘almost’ the highest position in the land, that is, a Justice of the United States Supreme Court.”
Trump’s current demand for loyalty from the Supreme Court, while framed as a call for commitment to the nation, clearly targets his own agenda. The justices, however, are not just political figures—they are public servants whose role is to uphold the law, not favor specific individuals. Yet, in Trump’s second term, the expectation for loyalty seems to have shifted from a principled stance to a normalized routine. This evolution underscores how the president has gradually redefined what constitutes a controversy over the past decade.
The contrast between past and present is striking. In 2017, when Comey testified that Trump had insisted on his loyalty during the early stages of the Russia probe, the White House and legal team dismissed the claim. Trump himself denied the statement, saying, “I hardly know the man. I’m not going to say, ‘I want you to pledge allegiance,’” and insisted it didn’t make sense. Trump lawyer Marc Kasowitz added that the president’s team wasn’t just playing word games; they argued that Trump never said, “I need loyalty, I expect loyalty” in substance or form.
Fast forward to 2026, and the same sort of demand now seems almost unremarkable. Trump’s recent social media post highlights this shift, as he publicly criticized justices like Neil Gorsuch and Amy Coney Barrett for ruling against him on tariffs. The message implies that these judges, appointed by Democrats, are politically biased. Yet, Trump’s own appointments to the Supreme Court—three of the nine justices—have become the focus of his calls for loyalty. This subtle pivot reveals how the president has weaponized the idea of loyalty to reframe his influence over the judiciary.
The irony lies in the fact that the Supreme Court, unlike the FBI in 2017, is not actively investigating Trump. Instead, it has been involved in key cases related to his policies and potential legal accountability. Despite this, Trump’s public pressure on the court has not sparked the same level of outrage as his earlier actions. The reason, as analysts suggest, is the gradual erosion of public and political resistance through a series of escalating provocations. This process, akin to the “boiling the frog” metaphor, has made once-unthinkable behavior seem standard.
Strategies of normalization
Trump’s ability to normalize controversies stems from a decade of consistent messaging and calculated actions. Politically oriented investigations of his opponents, for instance, were once seen as a significant overreach. In his first term, these probes were met with skepticism, but today, acting Attorney General Todd Blanche treats them as a routine part of governance. Similarly, self-enrichment during his presidency, which was initially highlighted in the “emoluments” scandal, has now been openly flouted without the same level of scrutiny.
Mass firings of inspectors general—once a point of contention among Republicans, including Senate Judiciary Committee Chair Chuck Grassley—have become an accepted tool for reshaping internal oversight. Trump’s pardons, too, have evolved from a series of politically motivated gestures to a more aggressive strategy, with the volume and frequency of such decisions likely to trigger fewer congressional investigations. Even his rhetoric on immigration and foreign policy, once considered extreme, has been reframed as a necessary stance for national security.
These actions collectively contribute to a culture where loyalty to Trump is expected, and criticism is seen as an obstacle. By repeatedly challenging norms and pushing boundaries, the president has conditioned the public to accept what once seemed like glaring misconduct. The result is a political landscape where his demands for allegiance are no longer questioned with the same urgency. This is evident in the current climate, where a call for loyalty from Supreme Court justices is treated as a minor point rather than a major controversy.
Why the perception has changed
The shift in public reaction can be attributed to the cumulative effect of Trump’s actions over time. Each year, he has introduced new challenges to traditional governance, making them seem less extraordinary. For example, the FBI director’s testimony in 2017 was a pivotal moment, but in 2026, a similar demand for loyalty from justices has lost its punch. The difference lies in the context: while the FBI was directly investigating Trump, the Supreme Court is now more of an arena for policy debates than a watchdog agency.
However, the court’s role remains critical, as it has been involved in landmark decisions affecting Trump’s administration. The fact that he has appointed three of the nine justices means his influence on the judiciary is significant, yet the backlash is muted. This is because Trump has consistently framed his actions as necessary for achieving his goals. His Sunday social media post, for instance, did not just highlight loyalty demands—it also emphasized the justices’ obligation to support his policies, even as they ruled against him on economic issues.
Moreover, Trump’s public persona has evolved to mirror the political environment he has shaped. Where once his actions were met with shock, they are now absorbed by the media and public discourse. The president’s ability to pivot between attacking critics and appealing to patriotism has created a sense of inevitability. This is not to say there are no dissenters, but their voices are drowned out by the routine nature of Trump’s provocations.
In essence, Trump has turned the concept of loyalty into a political currency, rewarding those who align with him while dismissing those who do not. The normalization of these behaviors reflects a broader trend in American politics: the gradual acceptance of actions that would have been headline-making in previous eras. As the president continues to push the boundaries of power, the line between scandal and standard practice becomes increasingly blurred. This dynamic is likely to define the next chapter of his administration, where the expectation of loyalty is not just a demand—but a given.