Why Whitmer's Mistake Matters

It's part of a larger pattern weakening the resistance.

A few weeks ago, Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer was one of the Democrats I wanted to see taking turns talking directly—every day—to the American people. She’s popular and pragmatic, and back in 2020, when Trump dismissed her as “that woman from Michigan,” she adopted the label with glee—a solid bully-wrangling move.

This week, though, Whitmer got played. Having gone to the White House to advocate for her state on various economic issues, she ended up in a wholly unrelated Oval Office photo op—Trump signing a new round of executive orders targeting his political enemies.

Whether you believe this was Trump’s plan from the get-go or just a weird byproduct of the chaos now coursing through the White House at all times, it was bad for Whitmer—and she knew it. In the photos, she wears a grim expression that I imagine is now retailing in D.C. as “The Rubio.” BlueSky instantly canceled her as a presidential candidate, and the glimmers of hope that Wisconsin and Cory Booker delivered just last week dimmed a little.

Can I understand how this happened? Sure. When Whitmer campaigned for her second term as governor in 2022, she didn’t promise to save the country; she pledged to look after the people of Michigan. It’s the same ‘fiduciary duty’ instinct hobbling so many of our leaders right now—not just at the state level, but also at our universities, our largest law firms, and our biggest companies.

As we’ve seen, a vindictive and petty president can inflict real harm on real people. Some of the leaders who’ve failed us in the past 80 days may be closet fans of Trump’s “vision.” But I’m guessing most of them feel as sick as Whitmer looked, trying to Homer Simpson her way into the proverbial hedge.

Faced with the prospect of devastating damage to the entities they oversee, leaders who capitulate aren’t just trying to save themselves; I believe most also feel a solemn obligation to protect their people. Trump knows this. It’s why he targets responsible leaders one by one. In Whitmer’s case, I imagine that whatever she feels about the Trump administration personally, she decided to suck it up, head to the White House, and advocate for Selfridge Air National Guard Base, which employs about 5,000 people. I’m sure she believed—100%—that she could do so on her terms.

That said, was meeting with Trump the right thing to do? Absolutely not. Whitmer made a Normal Times calculation—but these are not Normal Times. The second you start snatching people off the streets without due process, you stop being the kind of president that principled governors can meet with casually. The mediator in me still believes in engagement—dialogue can create off-ramps—but this is not the time for impromptu one-on-ones and quiet compromises. Same with conciliatory speeches: of course some tariffs make sense some of the time, Big Gretch—but now is not the moment for that message. At this juncture, even if you are the super-practical ‘fix the damn roads’ governor, the business of the people of Michigan has to take a back seat…to, well, saving the country. Once you know you’re dealing with an aspiring autocrat, the job is not to find common ground. The job is to hold the line.

I can imagine how painful it must be to choose a principle over the immediate interests of your people, many of whom are vulnerable. I have literal nightmares about having to make this choice myself (long live the luxury of operating in near-total obscurity). But 80 days into the aggressive dismantling of our government, there’s only one correct response from pro-democracy leaders:
1) Publicly acknowledge that we’re way over the red line (and if you think we’re not, I’m curious: what *is* your red line?);
2) Link arms with principled peers—other elected officials, university presidents, or business leaders—and commit: all for one, and one for all;
3) Take a page from Canada: go ‘elbows up.’

Resistance will come at a cost—but it’s the only way forward. If our leaders across the board do not start holding the line, our collective loss will be incalculable. Not only will we fail to fulfill our promise as a nation—we’ll learn that we’re not even the people we thought we were.