Pardons and Power: How Elites Write Their Own Rules

So, Joe Biden just issued a "full and unconditional pardon" for his son, Hunter, covering not just his convictions for lying on a gun purchase form and tax evasion, but essentially any crime he may have committed over the last decade. It’s a neat little legal firewall—an elite family using the presidency to shield itself from future scrutiny. And if that doesn’t encapsulate the American ruling class, what does?

But let’s not pretend this is unprecedented. No, this is just the latest episode in the long-running series, How Elites Use the Law to Protect Themselves. Gerald Ford’s pardon of Richard Nixon in 1974 set the gold standard: Nixon was caught orchestrating a break-in, covering it up, abusing power, and weaponising federal agencies against his enemies. His crimes were public, undeniable, and deeply corrosive to the fabric of democracy. Yet Ford, cloaking himself in the rhetoric of “healing the nation,” absolved Nixon before the ink was dry on his resignation letter. The message was clear: if you're high enough on the food chain, your crimes aren’t crimes—they're "mistakes."

And then there’s George H.W. Bush, who masterfully wielded the pardon pen in 1992 to protect his administration from further fallout over the Iran-Contra scandal. Bush pardoned six officials, including Caspar Weinberger, whose trial might have exposed Bush’s own complicity in illegal arms deals with Iran and funding for Central American death squads. In Bush's world, accountability wasn’t for the architects of clandestine wars—it was for their victims.

Fast forward to Bill Clinton, who on his way out the door pardoned fugitive financier Marc Rich, a man evading tax fraud charges, while simultaneously raking in hefty donations to the Clinton Foundation. It was a bold reminder that in America, laws don’t constrain power—they bend to accommodate it.

Now, Biden has joined this illustrious club, issuing a pardon so broad it makes sure Hunter will never have to worry about the consequences of his actions, whether they involve lying about a gun purchase, dodging taxes, or his much-criticised role at Burisma. A “full and unconditional” pardon is a powerful signal: the rules apply to you, not to us. And make no mistake, Biden will sell this as a deeply personal act of love for his son, but it’s really a page from the same playbook of elite protectionism that’s been running for decades.

So what happens if Biden extends this logic in his final days in office and pardons Donald Trump? Sure, Trump has spent years railing about "lawfare" and the so-called weaponisation of justice, but a pardon would do more than silence those claims—it would cement the bipartisan consensus that elites are untouchable. If Nixon could be pardoned for Watergate, and Bush Sr. could shield himself from Iran-Contra fallout, why not let Trump off the hook for inciting an insurrection, mishandling classified documents, or any number of schemes to enrich himself and protect his power?

A Trump pardon wouldn’t just shield him from consequences; it would reinforce the central lesson of the American legal system: accountability is for the powerless, not the powerful. It would also help Biden avoid the spectacle of his successor being dragged through the courts, which could expose the grotesque realities of a system both parties depend on. After all, the Democratic and Republican establishments are less rivals than co-conspirators when it comes to preserving the status quo.

Of course, Biden would frame it as a selfless act of healing—a gesture to “turn the page” and spare the nation more division. But that’s a farce. Pardoning Trump wouldn’t heal the country; it would shatter any remaining illusion that the United States is a democracy where no one is above the law. It would say, loudly and clearly, that elites can loot, lie, and even endanger the republic itself without ever fearing the consequences.

This is the real danger of a Trump pardon: it’s not just about letting him off the hook. It’s about reinforcing a political culture where the rich and powerful play by different rules, a culture that pardons Nixon, excuses Bush, enriches Clinton, and now protects Hunter Biden—and soon, perhaps, Trump. In a system where justice is little more than a charade, Biden might find it politically convenient to pardon Trump. But let’s not kid ourselves: it wouldn’t be about unity. It would be about ensuring that the rot at the heart of the system remains hidden, and that the doors of impunity remain firmly closed to everyone but the elite.

Because in the land of the free, the only real crime is getting caught without the connections to make it go away.