President Joe Biden’s decision to issue an unconditional pardon for his son, Hunter Biden, is being presented as an act of fatherly love. In his statement, Biden made sure to bookend his explanation with their familial bond, opening with a declaration about his son and closing with a plea for understanding. It’s no coincidence that this narrative was carefully crafted. The White House’s PR team knew they needed to focus on sentimentality because selling Hunter Biden’s character on merit would be like trying to market a used car that doesn’t run.
Let’s not sugarcoat this: Hunter Biden is not exactly the poster child for redemption or responsibility. His resume reads more like the plot of a salacious TV drama. He’s a self-confessed addict with a penchant for questionable behavior, from gun-related offenses to using his father’s name to rake in millions in dubious business deals. Add to that his trail of scandals involving strippers, paternity denial, and an affair with his deceased brother’s widow, and you have a character who makes reality TV villains look tame. The more the public sees of Hunter, the harder it becomes to muster even a sliver of sympathy.
So, the Biden team opted for the family-first approach, appealing to a universal sentiment: a parent’s love for their child. The message? Joe Biden is just a dad doing what any father would. But here’s the glaring issue: this logic falls flat for the millions of people who also love their children but don’t have access to presidential pardons. Every inmate in the country is someone’s child, yet their parents’ love doesn’t exempt them from facing justice. Hunter’s pardon isn’t about fairness; it’s about privilege, plain and simple.
And if the Hunter pardon wasn’t enough, whispers are swirling about potential preemptive pardons for other prominent figures in Biden’s orbit. According to reports, the Biden administration is weighing pardons for individuals like Adam Schiff, Anthony Fauci, and Liz Cheney—all conveniently individuals who could find themselves in hot water if Donald Trump’s administration targets them. The suggestion is that these figures have done nothing wrong, but apparently, Biden’s team doesn’t trust the justice system to sort that out. It’s a curious stance for a party that spent years insisting the legal process would hold the “evil orange man” accountable.
To the average American, this all reeks of hypocrisy. Why shield individuals who haven’t even been charged with crimes unless you’re worried there’s something to uncover? The Biden administration’s actions suggest a double standard: one set of rules for the political elite and another for everyone else. For a president who campaigned on restoring trust and integrity, these moves feel more like an insider game designed to protect the powerful than an effort to uphold justice. The message to the public is clear: justice depends less on guilt or innocence and more on who you know—and that’s a troubling precedent.
