Robert Klose lives and writes in Orono. His latest book is “Trigger Warning.”

Donald Trump was convicted of 34 felonies before becoming president. Knowing this, Americans elected him anyway. Day by day we are paying the price in terms of a man who is using his office to increase his personal fortune, run a retribution campaign against his perceived enemies and prosecute a private war against Iran.

These are serious affronts to the office, and they raise the question: should a felon be eligible to hold the office of president? The problem is, not only does the Constitution not forbid this, but there is nothing in our sacred founding document that prohibits a felon from serving as president while incarcerated.

Sound incredible? It must have sounded inconceivable to the Founding Fathers, or else they surely would have inserted a provision in the Constitution barring criminals from the executive office. In other words, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, et al. didn’t think such a provision was necessary because they didn’t believe a felon could ever be elected president.

Now that the incredible and inconceivable have happened, let’s consider some of the ramifications, the paradoxes and the hypocrisy of having a felon for president.

Take gun rights. Federal law prohibits felons from possessing firearms. In other words, Trump can’t own a pistol, but as president he can order the use of nuclear weapons at will. Was this not his inference when he recently threatened to erase the whole of Iranian civilization?

Voting rights for felons vary by state. Under normal circumstances, Trump would not be permitted to vote in Florida, his home of record, until he had completed jail time or paid all fines. But once he won the 2024 election, a judge charitably granted him a so-called “unconditional discharge,” meaning that Mr. Trump was spared incarceration, fines or probation.

But this is cold comfort, as the guilty verdict stands, and the presidency remains his shield against punishment.

As far as military service, as a convicted felon, Donald Trump cannot serve in the military without a so-called “morals waiver,” but he can carry on as commander-in-chief of the armed forces of the United States. The enduring issue of bone spurs, for which Mr. Trump was granted one of his five deferments during the Vietnam era, presumably does not prevent him from waging war from the comfort of the Oval Office.

These things are only the tip of the iceberg. The National Inventory of Collateral Consequences of Conviction lists over 44,000 legal consequences of being a felon. It remains to be seen how onerous these restrictions will be once Trump leaves office and he is no longer insulated by the blanket immunity granted him by the Supreme Court.

There is an interesting psychology here. If one were to ask the average person on the street if they believe a convicted criminal should be eligible for the presidency, the triggering word “criminal” would, I think, elicit a head shake. And yet, Americans knowingly installed a felon as president.

The question, then, is why? The answer, I think, has to do with Trump’s ability to sense the mood of his audience and respond accordingly. During his last campaign, Donald Trump told the electorate that, whatever their grievances, others were to blame. Further, these “others” needed to be punished (“Drain the swamp!”), and Trump was willing to do the punishing (“I alone can fix it!”).

It sounded good, and this message was enough to get people to give him a pass on his
criminality.

In light of what has transpired with a president who says he can do “anything I want,” I therefore propose a 28th amendment to the Constitution of the United States, to wit: “No one convicted of a felony shall be eligible to hold the office of president of the United States.”

This won’t save us from the present calamity, but it will offer the comfort of knowing that future presidents are not entering the office with a rap sheet.