Behold the American legal system, a majestic cathedral built of mahogany, vanity, and the tactical use of the word 'Oops.' We find ourselves once again staring into the vacant, glazed eyes of the federal apparatus as Lindsey Halligan, a woman whose career trajectory resembles a firework launched from a kitchen sink, exits her role as a top federal prosecutor. The departure is not a result of a principled stand or a sudden onset of ethics; rather, it is the quiet shuffling of a deck chair on a Titanic made entirely of partisan grift. U.S. District Judge David Novak has graciously allowed Halligan to avoid the messy, peasant-tier indignity of attorney disciplinary proceedings, citing her 'inexperience.' It is a breathtaking defense: the legal equivalent of a pilot crashing a Boeing 747 into a petting zoo and being told he doesn’t have to pay for the goats because he’s still learning which lever makes the plane go up.

In the grand, rotting theater of the American Republic, Halligan’s starring role was her attempt to prosecute James Comey. To describe this as a 'swing and a miss' would be an insult to the physics of baseball. It was more akin to trying to hunt a polar bear with a wet noodle and then complaining that the bear didn’t respect the noodle’s authority. Comey, a man whose self-regard is so massive it has its own gravitational pull, survived the ordeal not because of his inherent virtue—of which there is roughly the amount found in a lobbyist’s briefcase—but because the machinery deployed against him was operated by people who seemingly struggled with the 'Push' and 'Pull' signs on office doors. Halligan was a 'top' prosecutor, a title that in modern Washington carries the same weight as 'Senior Vice President of Paperclip Management.' Her tenure serves as a grim reminder that in the halls of power, 'top' is a measure of proximity to the right patron, not a measure of competence.

Judge Novak’s decision to spare her from disciplinary action because of her 'inexperience' is the ultimate 'Get Out of Jail Free' card for the ruling class. It suggests that the bar for entry into the most powerful legal positions in the land is currently located somewhere in the Earth’s mantle. If a public defender in a rural court made a fraction of the procedural blunders associated with Halligan’s crusade, they would be disbarred, disgraced, and likely working the night shift at a 24-hour laundromat. But for the elite, inexperience is a shield. It is a form of judicial noblesse oblige. We are told that because she didn’t know better, she cannot be held accountable. This creates a fascinating incentive structure: the more incompetent you are, the more immune you become to the law. It is a meritocracy in reverse, a race to the bottom where the most bewildered participant wins the grand prize of total lack of accountability.

The Right will frame Halligan’s exit as another scalp for the 'Deep State,' a narrative as predictable as a sunrise and twice as irritating. They will claim she was a brave warrior silenced by the bureaucratic leviathan, conveniently ignoring that her primary failing was an inability to actually do the job she was given. On the other side, the Left will perform their traditional victory dance, preening about the 'rule of law' while ignoring the fact that the 'rule of law' just gave a high-ranking official a pass for being too dumb to follow the rules. Both sides are trapped in a feedback loop of performative outrage, while the actual system—the one that ensures people like Halligan are never truly punished for their failures—grinds on, lubricated by the tears of the disenfranchised.

This is the state of our union: a playground for the pampered and the pathetic. Halligan moves on, likely to a lucrative consulting gig or a spot on a cable news panel where she can continue to fail upward in high definition. Her 'inexperience' is now her greatest asset, a badge of honor in a society that has replaced expertise with loyalty and consequence with a polite cough. We are governed by the inept, judged by the lenient, and distracted by the loud. The Halligan saga isn’t a tragedy; it’s a farce that’s been running for so long the audience has forgotten it’s supposed to be funny. As she leaves her post, the only thing we can be certain of is that her replacement will be just as 'inexperienced' and just as protected. The machine doesn’t want competence; it wants characters for the play. And in the theater of the absurd, Lindsey Halligan was a star.