





As Senator Kennedy recently said in an interview: “Watch what politicians do, not what they say.” In this piece, we’re going to walk through a hypothetical scenario about Trump, the Epstein files, and Washington’s love of political theater. First, we’ll lay out the theory. Then we’ll follow the chain of events step by step.
Go with me here—even if you don’t believe it for a second. I’m not sure I do either. But imagine there is extremely damaging information in the Epstein files involving very powerful people: former presidents, top corporate billionaires, and major political figures across the spectrum.
If Trump came out personally and released this evidence, he would immediately be accused of fabricating or manipulating it just to smear his enemies. The media that already hates Trump would frame the story as “Trump’s political hit job” rather than seriously examining whether the evidence is true. The focus would be on Trump as the villain, not on the alleged wrongdoing itself.
So what could Trump do if he wanted the information to come out, but did not want to be blamed for it? He could quietly change course from his original promise on the campaign trail to “release all the files.” Instead of pushing for transparency, he could:
What would this accomplish? How would Democrats react to such a position? The predictable response would be: “He must be hiding something.”
From this point, the script almost writes itself. Democrats, activists, and commentators begin to accuse Trump of covering up the truth. They insist that he is protecting his “friends” or hiding his own involvement. The story shifts to:
In other words, Trump appears to be on the side of secrecy—inviting his opponents to demand transparency.
As the narrative builds, pressure grows from the Democratic side to force the release of the files:
At this stage, Democrats are publicly owning the position that the Epstein files must be released. They frame it as a moral crusade for transparency and justice.
Once the demand for transparency is loud enough and clearly associated with Democrats, the President can suddenly “change his mind.” He can step to the microphone and say something like:
“I’ve heard the concerns. While I had reservations before, I now agree with my colleagues that the American people deserve to know the truth. I will support the release of the files.”
In one move, Trump appears:
And most importantly: he is no longer the one pushing this from the beginning. The push came from his opponents.
At that point, Trump can actively urge Republicans to join in:
“I encourage my fellow Republicans to support this measure. If there is nothing to hide, we have nothing to fear from the truth.”
Now, Republicans aren’t just reluctantly going along; they’re being invited to stand for “truth and transparency.” Democrats are already all-in. To vote against releasing the files now would look suspicious on either side.
Under this kind of framing, a bill to release the files could pass with overwhelming bipartisan support:
The end result: Congress as a whole owns the decision. The release of the files is now a bipartisan act, not a solo move by Trump.
If the files are truly as explosive as assumed in this hypothetical, the fallout would not land on one party alone. It could implicate people across the political spectrum, in government, business, and culture.
But here’s the key point: When the dust settles, Trump can say:
“I didn’t force this on anyone. You demanded transparency. Congress voted. We all agreed the truth should come out.”
Democrats can’t easily blame Trump alone for the damage, because they were publicly leading the charge to release the files. Republicans can’t claim they were tricked, because they voted for it too. The decision is shared.
Is this exactly what is happening? We don’t know. This is a thought experiment, not a claim of fact. But it illustrates an important idea:
Whether you like Trump, hate him, or feel stuck somewhere in between, it’s worth remembering that in politics, motives are rarely obvious—and almost never as simple as the slogans. Watch the actions. Watch who benefits. And always ask: “Who wrote this script—and why?”
