It was just announced that Dr. Ronny Jackson, the White House physician nominated by the president* to head the Veterans Administration, has withdrawn.
And very well might he have done so: charged with creating a hostile, toxic work environment; overprescribing drugs (including Ambien and Percocet); being drunk on the job to the extent that he wrecked a government car and was alleged to have been so much under the influence while on trips abroad that concerns were raised that he’d be unable to assist the President (Obama in this case) if any emergency were to arise. The man sounds a right mess.
Here’s my thought: if you or I knew that we had these… peccadilloes, shall we say?… in our lives, would you or I accept a high profile and probably contentious nomination? If you knew that there was even the possibility of headlines like the ones that we’ve seen swirling around Rear Admiral Jackson, would you put your name out there for nomination? Common sense says that you would not. You already have a good job, and especially if you’re a putz like Jackson, you’d want to hold on to that good thing.
So why did he? If he has a problem with alcohol — and let’s irresponsibly speculate that someone who hands out Ambien on Air Force One might have other issues as well — then perhaps his judgment is not unclouded.
But I think there’s something a little more insidious at work here. He accepted the nomination because in Trumplandia none of these things are impediments. He expected clear sailing. He expected to be shielded, or at worst, given a pass.
Because this is our country now.