If Obama had said ...“Quiet, Piggy” by Kingsley Cobb

Imagine for a moment that instead of Donald Trump, it was Barack Obama standing aboard Air Force One on November 14. A Bloomberg reporter asks a follow-up about Jeffrey Epstein’s emails and Obama snaps: “Quiet. Quiet, piggy.” Let that sink in. The reaction would have been thunderous, blistering, immediate. Conservative media would have run headlines for days. The Republican Party would cry foul, demand apologies, call for resignations. Fox News would plaster the remark across every screen, playing it on loop in slow motion, cadging outrage from every corner of its cable universe.

In that alternate reality, Obama would be accused of disrespect, of bullying the free press, of calling a female journalist derogatory names. Republicans would host endless panels dissecting the “deranged dictator temperament” of a once-moderate president. The very idea of a Black man in power humiliating a reporter would be framed in grotesque caricatures, a show of arrogance, entitlement and disdain for democratic norms.

Instead, when Trump made the exact same jab, calling a reporter “piggy” mid-flight, few of those same voices raised their voices in righteous fury. There was no 24/7 outrage cycle. No stern congressional resolution condemning presidential conduct. No concerted campaign to demand accountability. Instead, some dismissed it as quirk, as theater, as just another moment in the Trump reality show.

That discrepancy reveals more than a double standard. It showcases a kind of selective moral outrage, leveraged for political convenience. When a Republican slips, it’s glossed over or excused. When a Democrat missteps, real or imagined it becomes a morality play. That’s hypocrisy masquerading as principle.

Let us consider why. For many on the right, Trump’s brand of rough-edged banter is part of his appeal. It’s woven into his identity, marketed as unfiltered authenticity. He says out loud what others might only mutter. That plaintiff disregard for decorum becomes, in their eyes, a feature, not a bug. Trump’s insults are not aberrations; they are expected, even celebrated as long as they’re delivered from their side of the aisle.

If Obama had launched into such an insult, the message would be transformed. It wouldn’t just be about the remark itself, but about ideological betrayal. He’s not supposed to act that way. He’s supposed to be composed, refined, measured. When he deviates, Republicans would instantly weaponize it: proof that he’s secretly authoritarian, emotionally unfit, or disrespectful to foundational institutions.

Meanwhile, when Trump spits out a disparaging phrase in the heat of the moment, it’s shrugged off or rationalized. It becomes part of his brand: bold, spontaneous, provocative. The media cycle may note it, but the outrage rarely sticks. Trump may even get a pass because his base often sees such episodes not as failures, but as theater, evidence that he refuses to be muzzled, even by the press.

But make no mistake: words have power. A leader lashing out at a reporter, calling her names, is not simply a rhetorical stumble; it’s an attempt to dominate, to silence, to humiliate. If we normalize that moment, we are normalizing an assault on the free press. We’re tacitly endorsing a view in which journalists are not interlocutors but adversaries, to be shamed or shut up.

And yet, in Trump’s case, the backlash often subsides without meaningful consequences. No formal reprimand, no apology foist, no steep political price. That unevenness in accountability raises a troubling question, for whom do we hold power to higher standards? The answer is stark, and it corrodes democratic norms.

There is also something deeper at play here, a kind of outrage inflation. If we only issue alarms when a Democrat misbehaves, while allowing a Republican to get away with bullying or mendacity, we cheapen the whole concept of outrage. We make it partisan. We reduce moral critique to a weapon of convenience.

A genuine defense of decency means applying the same standard across the board. It requires discomfort. It demands we call out insults and incivility, regardless of the political stripe of the speaker. It means refusing to treat verbal abuse from our own side as a charming quirk, while treating it from the other side as existential danger.

If Obama had said “Quiet, piggy,” there would be rightly be condemnation and a clamor for accountability. But if we only demand accountability from those we oppose, we betray the very principles we pretend to defend. We undermine public trust. We diminish the value of respect and restraint.

So yes, imagine that alternate world, one in which Obama utters the same words. Then ask yourself: should the verdict be any different? If not, why so hesitant when it's Trump? The real test of our commitment to principle isn’t how loudly we cheer when our side wins, but how consistently we hold every leader to the same standards of civility and decency.