When Politico released the contents of internal emails from young Republican operatives, mocking minorities, smearing Jews, and even praising Hitler, there should have been a national gasp. There wasn’t. The revelations made headlines, a few statements about “poor judgment,” and then… silence. The political class shrugged. The public moved on. The prevailing reaction was a weary, “Well, what did you expect?” That’s the story within the story. The collapse not just of decency but of outrage. Hate speech that once would have ended careers now barely makes a dent in a news cycle. Our moral bar has sunk so low that we stumble slightly over it and keep walking.
Vice President JD Vance referred to the authors of the offensive email as “kids” who do “stupid things.” It’s true that these “kids” didn’t invent bigotry; like all forms of hate, they learned it from their elders. Young people growing up today live in a political climate where mockery, cruelty, and coded prejudice are rewarded with applause. They’ve watched senior officials label colleagues as “DEI hires,” as if diversity itself disqualifies competence. They’ve heard the President of the United States baselessly blame a fatal collision between a military helicopter and a civilian jet on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) and other diversity initiatives, as though fairness, not physics, caused the tragedy at the Potomac. When a reporter asked how he knew the pilot at fault was a DEI hire, President Trump said, “Because I have a lot of common sense.”
This isn’t about policy disagreement; it’s scapegoating turned into performance art. The goal isn’t truth. It’s tribal validation.
We once aimed for vertical morality, the upward pull toward ideals like truth, fairness, empathy, compassion, and courage. You didn’t need to live up to them perfectly; you just had to look upward.
Now, we live in a world of horizontal morality. Loyalty shifts sideways, toward one’s team, tribe, or algorithmic echo chamber. In this flat moral landscape, right and wrong are judged not by principles but by who benefits.
In vertical morality, lying to the public was considered a sin. In horizontal morality, it’s seen as a strategy. In vertical morality, decency was a sign of strength. In horizontal morality, cruelty is viewed as authenticity.
DEI was never intended to be a weapon. When properly understood, it aims to expand opportunities and eliminate structural barriers to inclusion. However, in today’s culture wars, DEI has been turned into a catch-all scapegoat for incompetence, failure, or tragedy.
Calling someone a “DEI hire” is the new way of saying, “They don’t belong.” It’s a coded attack on fairness itself, implying that inclusion and merit are mutually exclusive. That argument falls apart under scrutiny — but it succeeds politically because it taps into resentment. The real message isn’t about efficiency or standards; it’s about status. It says: Our kind is losing ground, and someone else must be to blame.
The emails uncovered by Politico aren’t just isolated cases; they are indicative of a deeper problem. When leaders publicly criticize DEI initiatives or subtly endorse conspiracies, they send the message to younger followers that prejudice is not only acceptable but also clever. The hypocrisy is staggering: condemning hate in speeches while joking about it in private. But even more alarming is the growing lack of shame among those in power.
That’s how moral erosion progresses. First, outrage diminishes, then empathy. Eventually, hate stops being shocking. It becomes part of the environment.
For journalists, this flattening of moral high ground presents an existential challenge. How do you cover leaders who lie shamelessly or spread hate without giving them more attention? How do you report on the politics of cruelty without becoming part of that cruelty? The solution is to reclaim journalism’s own moral compass: truth above balance, accountability above neutrality. If a president blames DEI for a crash without evidence, that’s not a “controversy.” It’s a falsehood. If party operatives circulate Hitler memes, that’s not “immaturity.” It’s moral decay. Reporters can’t continue to translate malice into euphemism. Precision is not partisanship. It’s professionalism.
The phrase “What did you expect?” serves as both a defense and a confession. It acknowledges that we have normalized indecency and defends actions that should still shock us. When society stops holding itself to higher standards, it ceases to improve. Moral clarity is important. It helps us gain perspective, see beyond our own group, feel the impact of others’ suffering, and act based on conscience rather than convenience. Without it, democracy turns into a struggle for cynics, where the loudest and least principled prevail.
Reclaiming the vertical view doesn’t require sainthood. It takes clear guidance. It means leaders who prioritize service over dominance. Citizens who demand honesty, not theatrics. Journalists who tell the truth without fear of offending those who prefer comforting lies.
As long as hate is ignored, and fairness is dismissed as weakness, we will keep circling low, confusing our own outrage for progress.
The time has come to climb again. Meanwhile, I will white-knuckle “clutch my pearls” worrying about what we’ve become.