DEEP THROAT WOULD BE UNEMPLOYED
WHY WATERGATE COULDN'T HAPPEN IN TRUMP'S AMERICA
By Big Education Ape, Because Bylines Still Matter... For Now
In 1972, a mysterious FBI official known only as "Deep Throat" met Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward in a dimly lit parking garage in Rosslyn, Virginia. With a cigarette dangling from his lips and the weight of American democracy on his shoulders, Mark Felt whispered two words that would echo through history: "Follow the money."
Fast forward to 2025, and Deep Throat would be out of a job faster than you can say "Schedule F reclassification."
Why? Because in the Trump administration, you don't need a clandestine informant to expose corruption. The corruption has its own Instagram account.
The Great Purge of 2025: Goodbye Expertise, Hello Sycophants
Richard Nixon had to work hard to corrupt the system. He needed secret slush funds, covert "Plumbers," and a Committee to Re-Elect the President so shady it earned the acronym CREEP. Nixon's corruption was a carefully orchestrated symphony of lies, played in the shadows, with the constant fear that someone—anyone—might flip.
Trump? Trump walked into office in 2025 and said, "Hold my Diet Coke."
The first order of business: The Great Purge. Over a dozen Inspectors General—those pesky internal watchdogs created specifically after Watergate to prevent another Watergate—were fired in a matter of weeks. Career civil servants with decades of institutional knowledge? Gone. Replaced with a rogues' gallery of yes-men, grifters, and people who would rather drink hemlock than admit Trump ever made a mistake.
Nixon had to hide his loyalists. Trump puts them on cable news.
Mark Felt became Deep Throat because he was horrified that Nixon was corrupting the FBI from within. In 2025, the FBI leadership would have leaked Felt's identity to a friendly podcast before he even made it to the parking garage.
Nixon Played Checkers. Trump Plays 4D Crypto-Chess.
Let's talk money. In the Watergate era, corruption meant briefcases full of cash, secret Swiss bank accounts, and coded messages. Woodward and Bernstein spent months tracking a single $25,000 check from a Nixon donor to a burglar's bank account. It was painstaking. It was heroic. It was... quaint.
Today? Crypto is the crooks' ATM, and Trump's gang has turned the blockchain into their personal piggy bank. Who needs Deep Throat to "follow the money" when the money is sledding in and out of digital wallets faster than the SEC can say "regulatory capture"?
Nixon had to worry about the paper trail. Trump's crew doesn't even bother with paper. They've got NFTs, meme coins, and a Supreme Court that ruled presidential corruption is just "official acts" as long as you do it from the Oval Office.
The Trump administration didn't eliminate corruption—they monetized it. And then they sold you a commemorative coin to celebrate.
The Plumbers vs. The Oligarchs: A Tale of Two Scandals
Nixon's "Plumbers" were a ragtag group of ex-CIA operatives tasked with plugging leaks and breaking into psychiatrists' offices. They had cute code names and a flair for the dramatic. They were also terrible at their jobs, which is why they got caught.
Trump's "plumbers"? They run the FBI, CIA, and DHS. No need for cute nicknames when you control the entire apparatus of the state. Why sneak into the DNC when you can just declare the DNC a "national security threat" and have the DOJ open an investigation?
Nixon had CREEP. Trump has the Supreme Court, which in 2024 handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card in the form of "absolute presidential immunity." Nixon had to resign because he knew impeachment was coming. Trump knows impeachment is just another fundraising opportunity.
The Cabinet of Crooks: Then and Now
Let's play a game: Watergate Mad Libs, 2025 Edition.
Nixon had Patrick Gray (acting FBI Director who destroyed evidence). Trump has Kash Patel (who promised to "come after" the media and political enemies).
Nixon had John Mitchell (Attorney General who approved illegal wiretaps). Trump has Pam Bondi (who declared the DOJ exists to serve the President, full stop).
Nixon had H.R. Haldeman and John Ehrlichman (the masterminds of the cover-up). Trump has... well, pick a son-in-law.
The difference? Nixon's guys went to prison. Trump's guys go on podcasts.
The Media: From Watchdogs to Lapdogs
Here's where it gets really depressing.
In 1972, Nixon faced a media landscape that, while imperfect, was fiercely independent. The Washington Post, The New York Times, CBS, NBC—they all had his number. When Walter Cronkite devoted 14 minutes of the CBS Evening News to Watergate, it was a death sentence for Nixon's credibility.
Nixon hated the press, but he couldn't control it. He tried—wiretapping journalists, compiling enemies lists, even discussing ways to poison columnist Jack Anderson—but the media remained a thorn in his side until the bitter end.
Trump? Trump's billionaire buddies own the media.
The Washington Post? Owned by Jeff Bezos, who's currently more interested in not pissing off the administration than in publishing the next Pentagon Papers.
The Wall Street Journal? Once a constant pain in Nixon's neck, now owned by an entertainment conglomerate that knows which side its bread is buttered on.
The New York Times? Let's just say they've learned their "place" in the Trump era. (Spoiler: It's behind a paywall and beneath a mountain of both-sides-ism.)
TV, radio, and online media? Owned by the oligarchy and spinning the truth like a helicopter blade in a hurricane.
Nixon would have killed for a Fox News. Trump has an entire media ecosystem that makes state-run television look subtle.
And Woodward and Bernstein? They'd still be tied up in lawsuits, their sources exposed, their Pulitzers rescinded by a "Weaponization Working Group" tasked with investigating "anti-American journalism."
The Supreme Court: From Check to Blank Check
The final nail in Deep Throat's coffin? The Supreme Court.
In 1974, the Supreme Court ruled unanimously in United States v. Nixon that the President had to turn over the tapes. Executive privilege, the Court said, must yield to the rule of law.
In 2024, the Supreme Court ruled in Trump v. United States that the President has absolute immunity for "official acts." Translation: If you do it from the Oval Office, it's legal.
Nixon's "Smoking Gun" tape—where he ordered the CIA to obstruct the FBI's investigation—would be inadmissible today. Why? Because it's an "official act." The Court explicitly said prosecutors can't even inquire into the President's motives.
Nixon resigned because he knew the law would catch up to him. Trump knows the law can't catch up to him. The Supreme Court made sure of that.
The Unitary Executive: Nixon's Dream, Trump's Reality
Nixon believed in the "imperial presidency"—the idea that the President, as Commander-in-Chief and head of the Executive Branch, had near-absolute power. He famously told David Frost, "When the President does it, that means it is not illegal."
The country recoiled in horror. Congress passed a wave of reforms: the War Powers Act, the Ethics in Government Act, the Inspector General Act. The message was clear: Never again.
Trump looked at those reforms and said, "Challenge accepted."
Through the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—a name that sounds like a meme because it is a meme—Trump has systematically dismantled the post-Watergate guardrails. Inspectors General? Fired. Civil service protections? Gutted. The Impoundment Control Act (which prevents presidents from refusing to spend money Congress allocated)? Currently being challenged as "unconstitutional."
Nixon dreamed of the unitary executive. Trump is living it.
Who Needs Deep Throat When You've Got TikTok?
Here's the ultimate irony: In the age of information, we're drowning in evidence of corruption, and it doesn't matter.
In 1972, it took two dogged reporters, a secret source, and months of shoe-leather journalism to connect the dots. Today, the dots connect themselves in real-time on Twitter, and half the country calls it "fake news."
Trump doesn't need to hide his corruption because his base doesn't care. He can pardon war criminals, funnel foreign money through his hotels, and sell access to the Oval Office via crypto schemes, and his approval rating doesn't budge.
Mark Felt risked everything to expose Nixon because he believed in the system. In 2025, the system is a punchline.
Conclusion: The Garage Is Empty
If Watergate happened today, Bob Woodward would show up to the parking garage, and Deep Throat wouldn't be there. Not because he was caught. Not because he was scared.
But because he was fired in the Great Purge of 2025, replaced by a 23-year-old with a podcast and a Telegram channel who thinks "institutional knowledge" is a deep state conspiracy.
Nixon's corruption was a betrayal of American ideals. Trump's corruption is the American ideal—at least, the one we're currently living.
So here's to Mark Felt, the man who saved democracy once.
Too bad we didn't keep the receipt.
Follow the money? In 2025, the money follows you—straight into a blockchain wallet with no oversight, no accountability, and a Supreme Court ruling that says it's all perfectly legal.