Ben Fields: It's simple: Capito doesn't have to care anymore (ÂÒÂ×ÄÚÉä)

It didn't take long for some to float the idea that her son's appointment from President Donald Trump was the cost of Capito's vote for the budget bill. The timing was certainly suspicious. Even I wondered about it for a moment. 

But I don't think that's what actually happened. These appointments have probably been in the pipeline for a while, and Capito hasn't really needed her skids greased in the past to go along with unpopular legislation or platforms from the Trump administration that will harm her constituents. 

What is more likely is that Capito's announcement (in which she doesn't even acknowledge one of the nominees is her son, as if West Virginians wouldn't know) was written and timed very poorly. It was tone deaf. Her post about the nominations on X got ratioed (drawing more negative replies than "likes") as commenters accused Capito of nepotism and selling out West Virginia. 

The question then becomes why a veteran of the U.S. Senate like Capito would make such an obvious blunder in messaging that was sure to face massive backlash. 

To me, the answer is simple. She just doesn't care.

The announcement was tone deaf because Capito is out of touch with her constituents and has been for some time. And why would she care what her constituents want or think? After all, they keep putting her back in office. 

As it pertains to the appointment of her son as U.S. Attorney, why would she worry about nepotism? It's the stock and trade of politics in West Virginia. As I've said before, for a select few families in this state, political careers are the family business. It's about lineage. Dynasty. Political careers for members of certain families in this state are never really over. If they lose an election (as Capito's son did last year in the Republican gubernatorial primary), there's always a lifeline in the form of an appointment or a behind-the-scenes gig. 

What's equal parts comical and sad to me is that these legacies persevere even when they probably shouldn't. For example, Capito's political cache comes from across her family, but is most directly owed to her father, Arch Moore Jr., who was a three-time governor of West Virginia. Moore served two consecutive terms from 1969 through 1977. His third term began in 1985. However, his bid for a fourth term in 1988 fell apart because of allegations of corruption. Two years later, Moore wound up pleading guilty to five federal felonies and went to prison. Ironically, he entered his guilty plea (which he later tried to withdraw) in the same court his grandson will now likely serve as prosecutor. 

Shelley Moore Capito kept the "Moore" in her name for a reason. It didn't matter that the legacy was tarnished. Big-time donors still lined up. Voters still voted for the name. 

So, at the end of the day, why should Capito give a rip what anyone in West Virginia who doesn't have deep pockets thinks? She's been rewarded time and again for ignoring those concerns. It's not surprising that constituents say it's impossible to get her on the phone or to get a written response from her office. She can afford to not care anymore. She can coast on her name and the coattails of Trump's popularity in West Virginia. 

Capito has no incentive to do otherwise until voters tell her they've had enough. Frankly, it seems unlikely they ever will.