Good Night, Good Luck, Good Timing

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings."

— Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene 2

When Cassius said this to Brutus, it wasn't a poetic flourish. Acting, resisting, and taking responsibility for a republic on the edge of collapse was a challenge. Centuries later, Edward R. Murrow used that same line in a landmark 1954 episode of See It Now, in which he profiled Senator Joseph McCarthy’s fear-driven tactics. Murrow wasn't just calling out the junior senator from Wisconsin — he was indicting a national climate of fear, one that had been allowed to spread because too many in public life stayed silent, afraid of being targeted themselves during the Red Scare.

Cassius' quote echoed again this past weekend — live from Broadway, on CNN — in Good Night, and Good Luck, George Clooney's stage adaptation of Murrow's broadcast on McCarthy. But this was no historical reenactment. In 2025, it felt like a civic dare. Public policy is supposed to result from thoughtful, inclusive decision-making, grounded in evidence, equity, data, and public interest. But too often in 2025, it's driven instead by executive fiat, culture slogans, or institutional inertia. What gets lost? Scrutiny, fairness, and long-term impact. And that's the warning Good Night, and Good Luck still delivers: the danger isn't just with administrative overreach. It's what happens when no one else stands up to stop it.

Policy Begins with Constitutional Values: Murrow's broadcast stood for due process, civic responsibility, and freedom of expression. Those same values must still guide how we build and evaluate policy today. Take the recent executive order fast-tracking deportations. It may appear procedurally sound. However, a constitutional review must ask: Are asylum seekers receiving fair hearings? Are legal obligations — both domestic and international — being upheld? The Constitution is not partisan. It's the baseline. Questioning policy through that lens isn't resistance — it's responsibility.

Narratives Aren't Policies — Outcomes Are: McCarthyism thrived on fear, and so do many political narratives today. Terms like “border invasion” or “anti-woke” stir outrage, not clarity. When slogans dominate the podium, the policy behind them takes a back seat. But policy isn’t about what’s said on stage — it’s about how it shapes lives, communities, and institutions. Consider the dismantling of DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) programs in public education. These changes are often framed as neutral or cost-saving. However, studies show these offices expand access, improve retention, and address inequity. If we don't look at who benefits and who is harmed, we're not doing policy — we're doing politics.

History Isn't Just Prologue — It's Method: Good Night, and Good Luck doesn't just show us the past. It shows us how to interrogate the present. When executive orders target whistleblowers or lawsuits seek to chill the press, the question isn't whether they're legal — it's whether they're legitimate. Policy gives us tools to ask: Are we governing or retaliating? Are we protecting institutions or punishing critics? That's not nostalgia. That's how democracy protects itself.

To Be Sure, not every immigration order or DEI debate signals democratic decay. Elections bring changing priorities. Disagreement isn't dysfunction. But when diversity is framed as danger, dissent becomes disloyal, and questioning power becomes suspect, we no longer disagree about policy. We're abandoning the process that holds power accountable. Murrow ended his 1954 broadcast with a sentence that still applies:

"We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty."

Back then, it meant defending free speech from a culture of accusation. In 2025, it means standing firm when policies are shaped more by fear than facts, and recognizing that neutrality in policy doesn't mean silence. It means holding power to principle.

Murrow's Echo
Truth needs steady hands.
Dissent is not disloyalty.
Policy is a choice