Dwain Northey (Gen X)

 Here is the million-dollar—sorry, billion-dollar—question: Will things magically snap back to normal the moment Donald J. Trump vacates the Oval Office? The same Oval Office that, thanks to his innovative interpretation of the Constitution, now doubles as a revenue center for the Trump Organization. The man practically treated the Emoluments Clause like a gym membership: something you technically pay attention to, but mostly ignore unless someone calls you out.

For years, Trump and the GOP have run a master class in “Norms Are Optional 101.” Remember when presidents used to worry about the appearance of impropriety? How quaint! Now the standard appears to be: “If you can fit it on a financial disclosure form—or avoid the form entirely—it’s totally fine.” So naturally, we must ask: What happens next?

Imagine, if you will, a hypothetical President Mark Cuban. A billionaire, flashy, loud, unfiltered—basically Trump but with… math skills. Now picture him announcing from the White House briefing room:

“Great news! I’m buying a downtown D.C. hotel for the low, low price of $750 million—totally unrelated to the fact that I’m the president. Also, I now own the Washington Wizards. Go Mavs-Wiz synergy!”

Would the GOP shrug because the precedent is set? Would they wave a tiny Constitution in surrender and say, “Well, Trump did it, so what are we supposed to do—hold Cuban to a higher ethical standard?”

Of course not.

They would explode so violently on cable news that the ambient temperature of the planet would rise three degrees. Overnight, they’d rediscover the sacred Emoluments Clause—dust it off, polish it, illuminate it with heavenly choirs. Suddenly, permitting presidents to enrich themselves would become the Greatest Threat to the Republic Since King George. Congressman after congressman would line up to declare:

“This is grossly unconstitutional! Outrageous! Impeachable! Possibly witchcraft!”

Impeachment articles would be written before Cuban finished his announcement. And the same politicians who shrugged at a president charging the Secret Service full luxury rates to stay at his own golf resorts would demand Cuban’s presidency be scrubbed, bleached, and burned from the historical record. “For the good of the nation,” they’d say, while clutching pocket Constitutions they hadn’t seen since 2016.

Because here’s the secret: norms aren’t destroyed forever—they’re destroyed selectively. They can be trampled by one guy and then instantly resurrected the moment they become politically convenient.

So will things change after Trump leaves office? Absolutely. They’ll snap back into place with cartoonish speed—

—but only if it’s someone other than Trump trying to run the presidential gift shop as a private business venture.

Until then, the Emoluments Clause remains less of a constitutional principle and more of a choose-your-own-adventure suggestion.