I spent most of my life and nearly all of my teaching career in Livingston County, Michigan—a ruby-red, rural-turning-suburban area in the ring outside Detroit. My first principal used to refer to our school district as the far edge of white flight—folks with enough resources to move to a bucolic county with lots of land for their ten-acre dream homes, an hour-long commute into the city, and a population that is 94% white and less than 1% Black.

Although I have always identified as a Democrat, I used to vote in the Republican primary, because it was the only way I had some say in who was representing me in local offices and the state legislature. Beginning in 1995, Mike Rogers was my state senator, and later, my representative in Congress. He was, at the time, very much a country club Republican—bland, moderate, uncontroversial and generally well-liked. I didn’t vote for him, but I knew lots of people who did. I also didn’t fear him.

Rogers’ family was well-known in Livingston County. His dad was a public school administrator and football coach, and his mother ran the Chamber of Commerce. One of his brothers was in the state legislature. He won local elections by wide margins, but when he decided to run for Congress, in 2000, squeaked into office by 111 votes. Gerrymandering made his subsequent elections ironclad, however.

Rogers and I lived in the same small town for most of his political career. I used to see him in Meijers and at local events, shaking hands. Once, we were both on a panel at a Chamber of Commerce breakfast where the topic was education policy. Mr. Rogers’ take on education, as a Congressman, was that the feds had no business making or even influencing education policy. He suggested that it was time to shut down the Department of Education. He spoke admiringly about local control—and asked me, his designated foil, what purpose the federal Education Department served.

My answer was two-fold: First, an Ed Department serves as clearinghouse for research on best practices and ideas in public education, economies of scale. But far more important was the federal role in promoting and ensuring equity in sharing available resources. I reminded him that the original ESEA, passed in 1965, was designed to provide resources for our neediest students, to help level the playing field for millions of students whose states weren’t particularly interested in equity.

Not Michigan! he said, ignoring the obvious example of Detroit Public Schools, 50 miles down the road, a place that many of his constituents escaped, after the auto industry built enormous wealth on the backs of immigrant laborers.

After the panel dispersed, Rogers was surrounded by local businessmen—and I hurried back to my 3^rd hour class, which a colleague was generously covering until my return.

In 2015, Mike Rogers decided not to run for Congress. He launched a career in radio—a kind of mild-mannered Rush Limbaugh—and moved to Florida, a place where he has been happily ensconced for eight years, starting new businesses, and serving as a defense lobbyist and National Security expert for CNN. He occasionally put out feelers to see if there was a possibility of becoming President.

But. Rogers has recently rediscovered his Michigan roots, and is now running for an open Senate seat in the mitten state. He has always been a pro-NRA, anti-abortion guy, but lately, he’s moved hard to the right, castigating his former employer, the FBI, claiming they’re on a witch hunt to take down The Former Guy for political purposes. He’s called the DOJ “corrupt.” The Michigan Advance says:

His former service as an FBI agent and CNN commentator may not be popular with MAGA voters, many of whom view the federal law enforcement agency as complicit in targeting Trump as well as the cable news outlet that is often a target of his ire.

He’s also made clear that he doesn’t need votes from the UAW, or—evidently—non-union workers and auto industry leaders rapidly building EV and battery plants in Michigan.

As for public education, he’s also changed his tune, now endorsing federal influence, saying that  “schools care more now about social engineering than, as my father used to say, readin’, writin’ and ‘rithmetic.”

Expect to hear that little witticism often on the Rogers campaign trail.

This Mike Rogers is a far cry from the dude who praised Barack Obama for taking swift action on allegations that the IRS intentionally scrutinized applications for tax-exempt groups with references to “tea party” or “patriot” in their names. As I said, Mike Rogers used to present as a country club Republican, hometown boy made good, moderate conservative and deficit-cutter.

What has happened to sort-of moderate Republicans? They get primaried after one term. They get criticized by Tucker Carlson. They can’t maintain leadership in the House. They get the message: move rightward, or get out of the way.

How did this happen? Theda Skocpol, on Politico, says this:

It was never about cutting the deficit. The popular side of the tea party was about anger and fear of a changing country in which a guy with ‘Hussein’ as his middle name and black skin could be elected president. The tea party had taken the shape of a just-say-no, blow-it-all-up, don’t-cooperate, do-politics-on-Twitter faction — and this is the perfect expression of it. This is where it leads.

Donald Trump didn’t create all this. He’s just been very good, ever since 2015, at giving it permission and focus.

Any political leader or candidate who changes their expressed core beliefs because they now have ‘permission’ doesn’t deserve to be elected.