Chronicle Publisher Chad Taylor’s latest commentary relies on a familiar and dangerous move, a righteous pose masking a deeply misguided ruse. He presents himself as a defender of law and order, warning that when the law becomes “optional,” escalation follows.
But his argument collapses under its own selectivity.
Taylor speaks in abstractions about norms and restraint while refusing to name the most obvious, ongoing violator of those norms, Donald Trump. That omission is not accidental. It is the mechanism by which his argument functions.
On Jan. 7, 2026, Minneapolis was shaken when federal agents shot and killed Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old U.S. citizen and mother of three, during an ICE operation. The Trump administration and Homeland Security rushed to declare the shooting justified and framed Good as a threat, even invoking terms like “domestic terrorism.” Local leaders, video evidence, and independent critics have rejected that account, saying the footage does not support claims she was an imminent danger and that her actions were consistent with someone trying to withdraw from a tense situation.
Whether prosecutors ultimately call this murder or an unjustified use of force is a legal determination meant to be examined, not pre-decided. Taylor’s commentary warns against “optional law,” yet offers no such warning when the state kills a citizen and demands immediate justification. That silence exposes the contradiction at the center of his argument.
Instead of questioning authority, he offers process language. Instead of skepticism, he offers silence. In practice, that silence functions as permission.
Taylor warns that escalation isn’t an accident, while ignoring the political project that actively manufactures it. Donald Trump is not a passive figure in this story. He attacks courts, ignores subpoenas, undermines elections and uses rhetoric that frames opponents as enemies and violence as justified. That behavior is continuous and deliberate. It teaches people that rules only matter when power is on their side.
Taylor’s commentary does not challenge that lesson. It extends it.
This is the core hypocrisy. Lawlessness is condemned when practiced by protestors, critics or the politically inconvenient. It is excused, reframed or ignored when practiced by the state or by political allies. Murder becomes “enforcement.” Accountability becomes “instability.” Criticism becomes “escalation.”
Power, not principle, becomes the deciding factor.
The most dangerous idea in Taylor’s column is not that laws are fragile. It is the suggestion that the erosion of law is something abstract, something done by others, rather than something actively carried out by those with power and normalized by those who provide them rhetorical cover.
Law that constrains only the powerless becomes a tool of permission. Taylor’s column amplifies that permission structure.
Matt Evans
Centralia
