Boris the Spider

Constitution in Crisis: Bulletin 7

The knives are out for Boris Epshteyn.

Epshteyn, who has managed to stay joined at the hip with Donald Trump—much to the annoyance of other lawyers in Trump’s circle—seems to have gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar in recent weeks. He reportedly solicited large monthly retainers from people under consideration for administration positions in return for putting in a good word with Trump.

Among the victims of Epshteyn's scheme is Scott Bessent, Trump’s nominee for Treasury Secretary, from whom Epshteyn allegedly requested $30,000 to $40,000 per month. The Wall Street Journal reported a colorful scene in which Epshteyn went running after Bessent in the lobby of Mar-a-Lago before Bessent told him to back off.

Bessent declined Epshteyn’s offer and got the nod anyway.

Similarly, former Missouri Governor Eric Greitens reported feeling pressured by Epshteyn for substantial monthly payments in return for Epshteyn’s support.

Trump was reportedly furious. It’s one thing for him to leverage money out of government activities; it’s another for his advisor to do it without his knowledge. Trump ordered an investigation into Epshteyn’s activities by top transition lawyer David Warrington. The resulting report is apparently damning, and it recommends sharply limiting Boris’s access to the president-elect.

Adding to his difficulties in Trumpland, there also have been reports of significant conflict between Epshteyn and Elon Musk, who reportedly accused Epshteyn of leaking information about cabinet picks. The evolving power dynamics between Musk and Trump promise to be an intriguing subplot, but that’s material for another bulletin.

The Epshteyn saga is the second scandal in the short life of the transition, following the debacle of the Matt Gaetz nomination, a decision that Epshteyn is said to have supported.

This transition period recalls the chaotic shift in 2017 from the “no-drama Obama” administration to Trump’s scandal-laden presidency. Shortly after Trump sacked Jim Comey, there reportedly was discussion in the White House about invoking the 25th Amendment to remove him from office or perhaps making secret recordings. Those days now seem quaint, as a series of considerably graver scandals have come and gone, largely dismissed as just Trump being Trump. The weeks since the election suggest that we’ll be seeing blatant norm-breaking and indifference to the law that makes the first Trump term seem like kid stuff.

This brings us back to Epshteyn. He is considered among the most divisive and least loved figures in the inner circle, and it might be tempting to consider his stumble an isolated incident. However, it reflects broader trends and weaknesses inherent in Trump’s governing style, and that of many authoritarians.

For starters, there is the genesis of Epshteyn’s prominence and fixed spot in the Trump firmament. Epshteyn, who befriended Eric Trump when they were both at Georgetown, had a middling role in the first Trump White House. But he made his bones with the boss in the post-administration period, when Trump was under siege from many directions—especially the series of criminal prosecutions that he has managed largely to beat back. I attended Trump’s trial in New York and regularly sat behind Epshteyn. He was a fixture in that courtroom and a figure of absolute loyalty to the then-besieged boss. Thus, the basis of Epshteyn’s influence was loyalty rather than legal prowess or government experience.

Second, Epshteyn’s response to the allegations mirrors a familiar pattern in Trump World: pugnacious denial. The more incendiary the charges, the more outraged the rebuff. Epshteyn came out of the box asserting “[t]hese fake claims are false and defamatory.” That categorical denial is unlikely to age well.

Third, Epshteyn’s proximity to Trump has been a subject of resentment and dissension well before this current scandal. His presence on the legal team provoked the resignation of defense attorney Timothy Parlatore. Parlatore’s departing criticism of Epshteyn was scathing: “There are certain individuals that made defending the president much harder than it needed to be.” In Parlatore’s portrait, Epshteyn combined ruthless jockeying for proximity to Trump with conduct that actually harmed the case and sowed wide distrust among Trump’s lawyers.

Again, this is a feature, not a bug, of Trump’s governing style. He has reportedly stated that he likes to set his advisors against one another—perhaps thinking it generates good solutions, or perhaps just enjoying the spectacle of his charges jockeying to curry favor.

David Brooks nailed the point in a recent New York Times column: “[a]n administration of narcissists will be a snake pit, in which strife and self-destructive scandal will snuff out effective action.”

Fourth, Epshteyn illustrates a broader pattern that goes with the territory of working for Trump: a tendency to mimic their boss in using their position for self-enrichment. Epshteyn is the latest in a line of Trump advisors who have sought to exploit their proximity to Trump for personal financial gain, often through criminal activity. From Paul Manafort, who hoped to leverage his role as campaign chair to dig out of debt to Russian oligarchs, to Michael Flynn, who failed to disclose financial ties to foreign governments, to Steve Bannon, who skimmed over $1 million from contributions to his “We Build the Wall” scheme (Trump pardoned him shortly before leaving office), the pattern is unmistakable.

Epshteyn himself has been indicted in Arizona on charges of conspiracy, fraud, and forgery for his involvement in the fraudulent elector scheme.

Most importantly, consider who the real victims of Epshteyn’s pay-to-play scheme are: the American people. He concealed material information from Trump. More seriously, though, his pay-to-play ambitions meant he was willing to set aside the public interest and provide advice based on concealed private gain.

To top it off, Epshteyn was arrested in 2021 on accusations of repeatedly groping two women at a nightclub. He received probation after pleading guilty to disorderly conduct, adding to the list of members of Trump’s circle—including Trump himself, of course—who have been accused of sexual misconduct.

The overall point: Epshteyn’s scandal and character have their own colorful details, but they point to a broader pattern that fits perfectly with Trump’s authoritarian instincts. With Trump chafing from the experience of his first term and determined to seed the government with arch-loyalists, the price will be measured in the decline of democratic rule and the elevation of private gain over the public interest.

Talk to you later.