In the long and colorful history of American politics, the phrase “hypocrisy” is often thrown about with such frequency that it risks losing its impact. But occasionally, a moment arises that deserves the full weight of the word—a moment where the gap between professed principles and practiced politics is so glaring that it cannot be ignored. Enter Senator John Thune of South Dakota, a man who, while professing deep concerns about fiscal responsibility, is more than willing to cut the ribbon on a $152 million project funded by a law he opposed.
Senator Thune, the Senate Minority Whip and a leading contender to succeed Mitch McConnell as the Republican leader, recently headlined a ribbon-cutting ceremony in Madison, South Dakota, for a water project funded by President Joe Biden’s Bipartisan Infrastructure Law (BIL). The project, part of the Lewis and Clark Regional Water System, received a substantial portion of its funding—$152 million—from the very law that Thune and many of his GOP colleagues opposed on ostensibly fiscal grounds. Yet, there he stood, scissors in hand, celebrating the fruits of a legislative achievement that he voted against.
Thune’s office, perhaps anticipating the obvious charges of hypocrisy, was quick to argue that the Senator has supported this water project since the late 1990s, long before the BIL was even conceived. According to his spokesperson, the Senator’s longstanding support for the project means he is merely continuing his commitment to his constituents, rather than taking undue credit for the Biden administration’s achievements. But this defense, while neatly packaged, fails to address the more profound question at hand: What does it say about our political culture when leaders feel free to denounce federal spending on one hand and celebrate it on the other?
The answer, unfortunately, is that it says quite a lot about the state of our politics today. It reveals a deep cynicism that has taken root in both parties, but which is particularly glaring in a GOP that has increasingly embraced a brand of politics defined not by coherent principles, but by a reflexive opposition to anything associated with the other side. Thune’s actions are emblematic of a broader trend within the GOP—what might be called the “vote-no-and-take-the-dough” caucus. These are the lawmakers who rail against “big government” spending while eagerly accepting and even celebrating the benefits of that spending when it reaches their districts.
This is not to suggest that Thune, or any other politician, should be blamed for supporting infrastructure projects that benefit their constituents. After all, the role of a senator is, in part, to secure resources for their state. But there is a glaring inconsistency between Thune’s professed fiscal conservatism and his willingness to embrace the largesse provided by a law he claimed to oppose on principle. It raises the question: When does principle give way to pragmatism, and at what cost?
For Thune, the cost may come in the form of scrutiny from both his constituents and his colleagues, especially as he positions himself as a potential successor to Mitch McConnell. As the GOP continues to grapple with its identity in the post-Trump era, figures like Thune are caught between the party’s traditional fiscal conservatism and the populist demand for more government intervention. This tension is unlikely to dissipate anytime soon, especially as the party prepares for future battles over spending, debt, and the role of government.
In the end, Senator Thune’s ribbon-cutting ceremony serves as a microcosm of a broader political dilemma: How do politicians balance the demands of their constituents with the principles they claim to hold? For Thune, the answer seems to be a willingness to embrace the benefits of federal spending while publicly decrying the very mechanisms that make those benefits possible. It is a delicate dance, one that may serve his short-term interests but could ultimately undermine the credibility of the party he hopes to lead.
As the Republican Party looks to the future, it will need to decide whether it is a party of principle or a party of convenience. Senator Thune’s recent actions suggest that, for now, convenience may be winning the day. But in the long run, the party’s success will depend on its ability to reconcile its rhetoric with its reality—a challenge that may prove far more difficult than cutting a ribbon on a federally funded project.
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