Trump’s Victory: America’s Revolt Against Prosecutorial Abuse

Dear Mindful Leader,

Something extraordinary happened when Donald Trump, convicted of 34 felonies and under multiple indictments, triumphed in the recent election. Over 76 million Americans cast their vote for him, sending an unmistakable message:

We do not trust the government. We do not trust prosecutors. We do not trust the system.

But let’s get real. Trump, with his wealth, fame, and ability to rally millions, is an anomaly.

For most Americans, being targeted by the justice system means one thing: your life is over. Without Trump’s resources or influence, the system doesn’t just accuse—it devours.

This isn’t about Trump.

It’s about a justice system so corrupted by politics, greed, and power that it has lost its legitimacy.

The people know this.

They see it.

And the millions who supported Trump, despite his legal baggage, are saying: Enough.

A System That Hunts, Not Protects

Let’s start with a basic truth: the government doesn’t need you to be guilty. It just needs to decide you’re a target.

Three Felonies a Day: The Trap of Overcriminalization

Harvey Silverglate’s book Three Felonies a Day reveals a chilling reality: the average American unknowingly commits multiple felonies daily.

This isn’t hyperbole; it’s the direct result of a legal system so bloated with overlapping, vague, and often incomprehensible laws that virtually no one can navigate it without tripping up.

In the United States, there are over 4,500 federal statutes and tens of thousands of regulations carrying criminal penalties.

These laws range from the arcane to the absurd.

Do you forward an email from work to your personal account without approval?

You could technically violate the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.

Accidentally ship mislabeled goods?

That’s mail fraud.

Even something as mundane as collecting eagle feathers you found on a hike—illegal under the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act—could land you in federal court.

This isn’t law enforcement; it’s entrapment.

And it’s eerily reminiscent of the Soviet Union’s infamous saying: “Show me the man, and I’ll show you the crime.”

Prosecutors today don’t need to hunt for crimes—they just target individuals and then scour their lives to find something that sticks.

This is the terrifying reality: America’s laws are so numerous and convoluted that ordinary citizens unknowingly commit felonies daily.

Think about that.

You could be breaking laws right now.

Maybe you accidentally violated a workplace regulation. Maybe you forwarded an email with copyrighted content. Maybe you misinterpreted your taxes.

It doesn’t matter. If the government wants you, it will find a way.

And when it does?

The process itself is the punishment.

Investigations, charges, court dates, legal fees—by the time it’s over, you’re bankrupt, broken, or both. This isn’t justice. It’s legalized annihilation.

Injustice in Action: Lives Destroyed by the System

Imagine being a teenager accused of stealing a backpack.

No trial.

No conviction.

Just accusations.

Now imagine spending three years in jail, two of them in solitary confinement, for this supposed crime.

This was Kalief Browder’s reality.

Browder, just 16 years old, was arrested in New York City for allegedly stealing a backpack. He maintained his innocence, but the system didn’t care. Unable to afford bail, he languished in Rikers Island for years awaiting a trial that never came.

When he was finally released, the damage was irreversible. The mental toll of his incarceration led him to take his own life. Browder wasn’t a criminal.

He was a kid.

And the justice system destroyed him.

The Bunny Farm Raid: Special Agents vs. Rabbits

Caleb Smith was no criminal mastermind.

He wasn’t laundering money or running a covert operation.

He was a teenager with an entrepreneurial spark, raising rabbits on a small farm to earn money for college.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest—a young man trying to pave his way to a better future one fluffy bunny at a time.

But apparently, the federal government saw something far more sinister in Caleb’s modest operation. Enter the Animal Welfare Act, a sweeping piece of legislation originally meant to prevent cruelty in large-scale animal enterprises. The same act was now being wielded like a sledgehammer to crush a teenager’s dream.

Federal agents, in all their tactical glory, descended upon Caleb’s rabbit farm as if they were raiding an underground drug cartel.

One can almost picture the absurdity: men in tactical gear kicking open the barn door, shouting orders to round up a hutch full of terrified rabbits.

Their accusation?

Caleb didn’t have the proper licenses.

Not that his rabbits were mistreated—not a single one was sick, neglected, or harmed. No, the crime was purely bureaucratic. The government declared his lack of paperwork a punishable offense, confiscating every last rabbit and slapping him with fines so steep they could have funded a semester at an Ivy League school.

Caleb fought back.

He pleaded his case, pointing out the obvious: he was a teenager selling rabbits to local buyers, not some industrial breeder exploiting animals.

But the system didn’t care.

His rabbits were gone.

His hard-earned savings evaporated into legal fees and penalties. And the dream he’d built from scratch?

Shattered.

This wasn’t justice—it was theater.

Special Agents raiding a bunny farm, the very picture of bureaucratic overkill.

It’s a perfect microcosm of a justice system that prioritizes targeting people over protecting them, wielding its power not for good, but for show. Caleb Smith’s story isn’t just an outrage—it’s an indictment of a system that crushes ambition and punishes integrity, all in the name of “law enforcement.”

Richard Jewell: The Hero Who Became a Villain

Richard Jewell was a security guard during the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. He discovered a backpack filled with explosives and sounded the alarm, saving countless lives. But instead of being celebrated as a hero, he became the FBI’s prime suspect.

The media crucified him, portraying him as a failed cop desperate for attention.

For months, Jewell endured relentless scrutiny, his name dragged through the mud. Though eventually exonerated, his life was never the same. The stain of suspicion lingered, and the emotional scars were permanent.

Jewell’s case is a chilling reminder: the system doesn’t care about truth. It cares about headlines.

Andy Johnson: A Pond That Cost a Fortune

Andy Johnson, a Wyoming farmer, built a small pond on his property to provide water for his livestock.

Harmless, right?

Not according to the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).

The EPA accused Johnson of violating the Clean Water Act, threatening him with millions in fines unless he destroyed the pond. Johnson fought back, spending years in legal battles to protect what was his.

Though he eventually won, the fight drained him financially and emotionally.

His case shows how the government weaponizes obscure regulations to target ordinary citizens.

A System Without Boundaries

Why does this keep happening?

Because the laws we live under are deliberately vague and endlessly interpretable.

As Justice Antonin Scalia once said, “In a nation where the laws are so numerous and so much at odds with each other, it is unfair to prosecute someone for a crime that hasn’t been defined until after the judicial decision that sends him to jail.”

Scalia’s warning is not some theoretical lament. It’s a prophetic critique of a legal system that crushes its own citizens under the weight of its ambiguity. Consider the following examples:

The Fisherman and the Sarbanes-Oxley Act

In Yates v. United States, a fisherman named John Yates was prosecuted under the Sarbanes-Oxley Act, a law originally intended to combat financial fraud, for discarding undersized fish.

Yes, fish.

Federal prosecutors argued that Yates violated the law’s provision against destroying “tangible objects.”

The Supreme Court eventually ruled in Yates’s favor, but only after years of legal battles and financial ruin.

Imagine being prosecuted as though a fish were corporate documents.

The 500-Pound Gorilla

Imagine stepping into a courtroom to face a 500-pound gorilla. That’s what it feels like to be up against the government.

They have infinite resources, teams of lawyers, and the power to drag you through years of litigation.

You?

You have your savings, your sanity, and maybe a public defender juggling dozens of cases. The odds aren’t just stacked against you—they’re insurmountable.

Even if you’re innocent, you’re guilty in the court of public opinion. Even if you win, you’ve already lost.

Civil Asset Forfeiture: Robbery by the Government

Under civil asset forfeiture laws, the government doesn’t need to convict you—or even charge you with a crime—to confiscate your property.

It simply needs to suspect your assets are tied to illegal activity. In these cases, your property is essentially guilty until proven innocent.

Consider the Caswell family, owners of the Motel Caswell in Tewksbury, Massachusetts. For decades, they ran their modest family motel, unaware that a handful of guests had used rooms to conduct drug deals. The government decided this made their property complicit in criminal activity.

Federal prosecutors attempted to seize the motel under civil asset forfeiture laws, claiming it had "facilitated" crime. Never mind that the Caswells themselves had no involvement or knowledge of these activities. It took years of legal battles and hundreds of thousands in attorney’s fees for the family to prevail.

But the financial and emotional toll was devastating.

In another infamous case, the Sourovelis family of Philadelphia faced eviction after police discovered their teenage son had sold $40 worth of drugs on their front porch. The parents were never charged, but their home was seized. They spent years fighting to regain ownership of their property—all because of one teenager’s mistake.

This isn’t justice. It’s theft, dressed up in the guise of law enforcement.

Shock and Awe: A Call for Reform

This isn’t just a broken system—it’s a predatory one.

It targets the vulnerable, crushes the innocent, and destroys lives without consequence.

The American justice system is no longer about protecting citizens or ensuring fairness. It’s about power, money, and control.

Justice shouldn’t depend on your bank account. Public defenders must have the resources and support to give every defendant a fair trial.

When prosecutors abuse their power, they must face real consequences—both professionally and legally. Without accountability, the cycle of overreach will never end.

A Nation at a Crossroads

Donald Trump’s election wasn’t just a political upset; it was a cultural reckoning.

Seventy-six million Americans didn’t just cast a vote for Trump—they shouted a deafening “We don’t trust you!” to the prosecutors, the system, and the entire justice apparatus.

They know that a felony conviction doesn’t necessarily mean guilt; it could mean the system decided to break someone.

How many innocent people are swept up in the tidal wave of prosecutorial overreach, coerced into plea deals to avoid financial ruin or decades behind bars?

The message is clear: Americans aren’t just skeptical—they’re done giving blind faith to a machine that destroys lives for sport and headlines. This isn’t justice; it’s a broken, weaponized system that no longer deserves the trust of the people it’s supposed to serve.

The justice system was built to protect citizens from tyranny.

Instead, it has become the tyrant.

It’s time for reform—radical, immediate reform.

If we fail, we won’t just lose trust in the justice system.

We’ll lose America itself.

In unity and truth,

David

P. P. S. ?????? ? If you don’t know who I am, my name is David Vogel, retired CEO turned LinkedIn influencer and Founder of the Church of Unity Society. Six mornings a week Live at 7 AM, I preach to the C-suite, igniting their spirits with the power of God. As the publisher of Mindful Ethics, the unapologetic voice of ethics on LinkedIn, I challenge leaders to elevate their game, lead with heart, and redefine what it means to live with purpose.

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? Published by: David Vogel, in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire