understand
why
people
give
bad
advice
to
a
boss
who’s
comforted
by
the
bad
advice.
The
military,
for
example,
advised
President
Lyndon
Johnson
about
the
Vietnam
War:
“We
can
win!
We
can
win!
More
troops!
We
can
win!
We
can
win!
…
Oops!
We
lose.”
No
one
wanted
to
deliver
bad
news
to
the
boss
—
and
he
didn’t
want
to
hear
it
—
so
they
didn’t.
When
the
post-mortems
are
written
about
the
war
in
Afghanistan,
I
bet
it’ll
be
the
same:
Twenty
years
of
“we
can
win,”
followed
by
“oops,”
when
the
United
States
withdrew
and
Kabul
was
immediately
overrun.
I
wonder
what
Donald
Trump’s
advisers
are
telling
him
now
about
speaking
publicly
on
issues
that
are
the
subject
of
criminal
investigations
(or,
in
one
case,
an
indictment).
Competent
counsel
generally
advise
clients
not
to
speak
publicly
about
pending
criminal
matters.
Trump,
for
example,
is
digging
himself
a
bigger
hole
each
time
he
speaks
about
the
documents
at
Mar-a-Lago.
He
should
stop
talking.
It’s
entirely
possible
to
give
that
advice
even
to
a
political
candidate:
“Talk
about
anything
you
like,
other
than
the
subjects
of
criminal
investigations.
Build
a
wall;
save
Social
Security;
end
the
war
in
Ukraine
in
24
hours;
own
the
libs.
But,
when
asked
about
the
payment
to
Stormy
Daniels,
or
the
documents
at
Mar-a-Lago,
or
the
events
of
January
6,
say,
‘I’m
sorry,
but
I
can’t
comment
on
that.
My
lawyers
have
advised
me
not
to
talk
about
issues
that
are
the
subject
of
criminal
investigations.’
”
Of
course
Trump
should
do
that.
But
is
anyone
near
him
courageous
enough
to
give
that
advice?
(Perhaps
they
are,
and
Trump
simply
isn’t
listening.
Or
perhaps
the
advisers
stopped
giving
that
advice
long
ago,
when
they
realized
that
it
was
hopeless.)
How
about
advice
on
more
personal
issues?
Should
Dianne
Feinstein
resign
her
seat
in
the
Senate?
Of
course.
But
I
doubt
anyone’s
giving
her
that
advice.
She
probably
doesn’t
want
to
hear
the
advice,
so
it
takes
courage
to
deliver
it.
And,
if
you’re
one
of
Feinstein’s
aides,
the
advice
runs
against
your
self-interest:
You’re
currently
a
high-level
political
aide
to
a
United
States
senator.
If
that
senator
takes
your
advice
and
resigns,
then
you’re
a
schlub,
just
like
the
rest
of
us.
Do
you
really
think
anyone
close
to
Feinstein
is
advising
her
to
resign?
Should
Joe
Biden
run
for
another
term
as
president?
He’ll
be
82
on
Election
Day
and,
if
he
wins,
86
at
the
end
of
his
second
term.
The
average
life
expectancy
at
birth
for
an
American
male
is
about
78
years.
(The
average
life
expectancy
of
a
guy
who’s
already
made
it
to
82
is
seven
years
—
to
89.)
Life
expectancy,
of
course,
speaks
only
to
how
long
you’ll
be
breathing;
you
could
be
in
pretty
bad
shape
by
the
time
the
end
comes.
I
wish
Biden
all
the
best.
But
my
father
died
at
80,
and
the
last
five
years
weren’t
so
good.
I
know
painfully
few
85-year-olds
who
are
still
in
both
mental
and
physical
shape
to
handle
a
job
that’s
awfully
tough,
even
if
you’re
surrounded
by
top-notch
aides.
But
who’s
telling
Biden
that?
Do
you
think
that
Biden’s
chief
of
staff,
who’s
currently
one
of
the
most
powerful
people
in
the
world,
is
telling
Biden
not
to
run,
and
the
chief
of
staff
should
lose
his
job?
What
do
you
think
about
any
other
high
political
aides,
who
are
in
exactly
the
same
position?
I’m
not
saying
that
Biden’s
position
is
crazy:
He’s
relatively
moderate,
and
a
Democratic
primary
could
easily
nominate
someone
to
the
far
left,
who
might
not
be
as
electable
as
Biden.
But
I
wonder
how
many
people
will
stay
home
on
Election
Day
in
2024
because
they’re
not
enthusiastic
about
casting
a
ballot
for
a
guy
who’s
82.
There’s
only
one
person
who
might
give
Biden
honest
advice
on
whether
he
should
run
again.
We
were
counting
on
you, Jill,
and
I
think
you
failed
us.
Mark Herrmann spent
17
years
as
a
partner
at
a
leading
international
law
firm
and
is
now
deputy
general
counsel
at
a
large
international
company.
He
is
the
author
of
The
Curmudgeon’s
Guide
to
Practicing
Law and Drug
and
Device
Product
Liability
Litigation
Strategy (affiliate
links).
You
can
reach
him
by
email
at inhouse@abovethelaw.com.