My beloved political science professor, Dr. Anthony Brunello, retired this year at the close of the academic calendar at Eckerd College. For decades, he taught the foundational courses that shaped generations of undergraduates, myself included.
His classroom was where I first began wrestling with the enduring questions of power, justice and the state. Lately, in light of our national condition under President Trump’s second term, I’ve been revisiting those questions with a new urgency.
The normative: What is the role of government in our society? What is the nature of justice? The empirical: Why are our institutions proving so fragile? And the theoretical: How should we be examining political power right now?
These aren’t new questions, but they feel newly pressing. As both a student of politics and a citizen of this republic, I can’t shake the sense that we’ve been here before. The stakes, however, feel different now. Will we find our way forward again?
On a recent work trip to Arizona, I managed to steal a moment of quiet in Sedona. Hiking up to the Chapel of the Holy Cross, surrounded by ancient red rock formations, I was struck by a profound realization: the lesson Professor Brunello often emphasized was the corrupting nature of power. It has never felt more real, more tangible.
Machiavelli’s “The Prince,” which we studied under his guidance, is often mischaracterized as a manual for tyranny. But it is more accurately a mirror for a raw, unsentimental examination of how power functions when stripped of moral pretense. Written in the turmoil of Renaissance Italy, it remains unsettlingly relevant.
The authoritarian impulses of President Trump are not anomalies. They are echoes from history. We have seen this before, in the rise of fascism, in the failures of democratic institutions, in moments when republics faltered from the shores of Europe to state failures in South America.
At the heart of “The Prince” is a sober thesis: power is seductive, and often sustained not by virtue, but by fear, illusion and ruthless pragmatism. Leaders are counseled to appear moral while doing whatever is necessary to maintain control. “The ends justify the means.”
As we witness the terrors unleashed since President Trump’s second inauguration, we are seeing the ends justifying the means. This principle is cynical, but it doesn’t have to be our reality, despite how enduring it feels. It is evident in the playbook of Trump’s enablers, particularly those advancing the authoritarian blueprint of Project 2025. Their corruption is not hidden; it is performed on television every day. For students of history, it’s deeply familiar.
“The Prince” doesn’t celebrate corruption. It exposes it. It forces us to confront the mechanisms by which institutions erode, public trust is manipulated, and justice is traded for control. “The Prince” is a warning. It tells us that without ethical resistance, power drifts inevitably toward moral decay. We have seen this before.
The corruption of the Trump administration is not theoretical, it is observable, documented, and worsening. From weaponizing the Department of Justice, to attacking the legitimacy of elections, to enriching his allies and punishing his critics. Presidential advisor, Elon Musk and his so-called Department of Governmental Efficiency is real-time case study. Musk pillaged government agencies, stole the data of the American people and positioned his business to benefit while in the role.
Trump has hollowed out democratic norms and replaced them with personal loyalty tests. He has surrounded himself with yes-men, grifters and ideologues who operate with impunity. This is not the leadership many of his supporters thought they were voting for; it is authoritarian rot.
The president has normalized political violence and delegitimized dissent. This rot is not just about one man. It is about a movement and a political party that enables his authoritarian impulses. If left unchecked, it threatens to hollow out the foundations of our republic and replace them with a culture of loyalty, fear, and unaccountable power. Democracy demands better. We know this because we’ve seen it before.
Fixing it will take more than winning elections. It will require rebuilding civic institutions with transparency and accountability, restoring the independence of the judiciary, passing real ethics reforms and protecting the press and civil service from political interference. Most importantly, it demands a recommitment to the idea that public office is a public trust, not a private asset.
This is the moment where we must remember the lessons of history and act on them. Democracy is not self-sustaining. It requires citizens who are willing to defend it, even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable or costly. That is the lesson Dr. Brunello gave us and that is the duty before us now.
So here we are in an age of Trump, institutional strain and democratic doubt. Machiavelli’s insights are no longer academic exercises of undergraduates. They are a call to action. We must decide whether we will be governed by princes or served by public servants.
Dr. Brunello taught us that the study of politics is never neutral. It demands moral clarity, historical awareness and civic courage. I carry that lesson with me still and I hope we, as a nation, do too.
Johnny V. Boykins is a political organizer and Democratic Party State Committeeman in Pinellas County, a husband, bow tie aficionado, amateur chef, and U.S. Coast Guard veteran.
