Impeachment Isn’t What It Used to Be: From High Crimes to Hollow Headlines

Once upon a time, the word “impeachment” stirred visions of justice. It echoed with gravity, conjuring up phrases like “high crimes and misdemeanors.” Presidents would sweat, Congress would argue, and the country would hold its breath. But in 2025? Impeachment is more like a dramatic tweet with paperwork and a round of podcast interviews.

A Process That Used to Terrify Presidents

Impeachment was meant to be a last resort. Not a branding opportunity. Not a partisan marketing gimmick. The founding fathers included it as a safety switch. If a president went rogue, Congress could act. Andrew Johnson came first in 1868, and survived by one vote. Over a century later, Bill Clinton was impeached for lying under oath. He too survived. But at least back then, the idea of impeachment had teeth. It made headlines, inspired debate, and held some air of consequence.

Then came Donald Trump. Twice impeached. Twice acquitted. And after each, he walked away not diminished, but emboldened. He printed T-shirts, sold mugs, and raised more campaign money off the process than most politicians make in a lifetime. Impeachment, for Trump, wasn’t a mark of shame. It was a merch drop.

This Administration and the Era of Accountability Theater

Now, in the current administration, the idea of accountability has turned into performance art. While the public frets over inflation, digital currency schemes, and secretive deals, the presidency continues to function like a startup with no board of oversight. Reports of lavish crypto dinners, ambassador appointments linked by bloodlines, and anonymous whistleblowers fade as quickly as they appear.

Is anyone really afraid of impeachment anymore? The House might hold hearings. Cable news might air dramatic graphics. But the Senate? That’s where justice goes to take a nap. The only thing that might scare a president now is poor polling. Impeachment is just political cosplay for the Capitol Hill crowd.

What Being Impeached Means Today

Here’s the hard truth: impeachment is not removal. It’s not even a conviction. It’s like being formally accused in a high school gossip chain. It signals wrongdoing, but rarely ends in consequence. A president can be impeached and continue running the country, hosting press conferences, and scheduling campaign stops like nothing happened. No security escort. No courtroom reckoning. Just a lot of posturing.

Why? Because conviction requires a two-thirds vote in the Senate. Unless the president’s own party turns against them, that number is nearly impossible to reach. So impeachment today is essentially a televised finger wag. A pageant of morality in a city that lost its moral compass. In today’s climate, being impeached is the political equivalent of getting a stern email from HR — a piece of constitutional theater dressed up as consequence.

The Nixon Benchmark: A Time When Shame Still Mattered

It’s almost quaint to remember when Richard Nixon resigned. He hadn’t even been impeached yet. But once it became clear he would be, he stepped down. Not because he had to. Because he still had the capacity for embarrassment. Back then, the American public expected decency. A line was drawn, and when a leader crossed it, people cared.

Compare that to now. Politicians embrace scandal like a badge. The more controversy, the more cable hits. The more headlines, the more online donations. We used to see shame as a deterrent. Now it’s a currency.

Modern Politics: The Age of Impeachment Insurance

Presidents no longer avoid controversy. They anticipate it. Their teams draft press statements long before the scandal breaks. They have influencers ready to spin it, and congressional allies ready to feign outrage or denial on cue. Impeachment isn’t feared. It’s budgeted. It’s the storm they expect and already prepared to ride out.

In fact, it might even be helpful. Nothing fires up a base like persecution. A president under impeachment becomes a martyr for one side and a villain for the other. Both raise money. Both win headlines. The only loser is public trust. It erodes with every staged hearing and every partisan vote.

So What Now?

What’s the path forward when impeachment means nothing? Do we rewrite the rules? Do we empower independent panels? Or do we simply accept that presidential oversight is now just a reality show with no grand finale? These are the questions that matter—not which party cries foul the loudest.

If we want impeachment to mean something again, we have to want truth more than victory. We have to make accountability bipartisan, not just a strategy when the other side is in charge. Until then, impeachment is just a rubber stamp in a system of hollow rituals. A gavel without force. A courtroom with no verdict — and a warning sign for what has replaced real politics.