The quality of mercy is tough to measure, but the quantity of mercy has not been strained in Washington recently. It has been dropping like torrential rain from the heavens. Outgoing President Joe Biden pardoned his son, then commuted the sentences of thousands of individuals who have served more time for nonviolent drug offenses than would be warranted under current guidelines, and then—right as his lease on the White House was up—preemptively pardoned his relatives and political allies for crimes of which they had not yet even been (officially) accused.
Not to be outdone, incoming President Trump pardoned or commuted the sentences of more than 1,500 rioters who had definitely been accused and convicted of crimes, including bringing guns to the Capitol to disrupt the peaceful transfer of power, a disruption which led to the death of at least one police officer and the injury of approximately 140 more. And then he pardoned Ross Ulbricht, convicted in 2015 of founding and running the online trading marketplace Silk Road, which facilitated trade in illegal drugs and money laundering.
All told, the last two months has seen a reduction in punishment for more than 5,500 people by Presidents. Forgiveness is good. Mercy is noble. So why does this recent Pardonapalooza feel so dirty?
Part of it is, of course, that most of these acts are naked politicking. Intelligent people can disagree on whether Ulbricht really deserved two full life sentences plus 40 years for running a website on which illegal transactions were made. But in announcing the news, President Trump noted that he had offered the pardon in honor of Ulbricht’s mother “and the Libertarian Movement, which supported me so strongly.” Trump, the first U.S. president convicted of a felony, went on to insult the “scum” who convicted Ulbricht in 2015 as the same people who came after him. The act seemed to be as much about score-settling as justice.
Politically motivated pardons are nothing new. But…
