This past July 4, while I grilled with friends and watched fireworks, President Donald Trump staged his own celebration on the White House lawn. With patriotic fanfare and a B-2 bomber flyover, he signed into law what he proudly called the “One Big Beautiful Bill.†Like much of Trump’s political theater, the signing felt more like a made-for-TV moment than a serious policy milestone.
The timing seemed deliberate — meant to signal a rebirth for Trump’s America: a return to tax cuts, spending rollbacks, increased military funding and immigration crackdowns.
True to brand, the president made promises of “greatness†but said little about how the legislation demonstrated fiscal conservatism. The mood didn’t feel like past national highs — like the first Gulf War or a gold medal Olympic sweep. The cork-popping seemed confined to Washington.
I had followed the bill closely. I knew what was at stake — cuts to Medicaid, SNAP benefits and public programs I care about and have reported on. Full disclosure: I rely on Medicaid for my own health care. So yes, I had skin in the game.
Despite the fanfare — and a lot of opposition — I didn’t see much grassroots enthusiasm, even from Trump supporters who usually celebrate a win. What I did see were memes and “own the libs†one-liners on social media. One Facebook post summarized the bill by saying: “Uncle/Daddy President Trump said TAKE YOUR ABLE BODY BUTTS back to work,†praising it for reducing crime and dependence on public aid. Another meme showed a face-slapping contest, with one large man labeled “Big Beautiful Bill†slapping another labeled “Hakeem Jeffries,†the House Minority Leader — a visual metaphor for perceived conservative triumph.
These weren’t policy endorsements; they were political victory laps.
So on July 5, I posed a question on social media: What are the measurable outcomes that could show whether the “Big Beautiful Bill†will, over time, be a big, beautiful success or an enormous, ugly failure?
To my surprise, an old friend from high school replied. He describes himself as my “Independent buddy,†though I’ve never seen him support a Democrat. His views align more with Trump-style populism than traditional conservatism. Still, I appreciated that he took the question seriously.
He opened with a bit of “whataboutism,†asking whether I’d scrutinized Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act with the same intensity. I have a pathological hatred of whataboutism (even though I’ve been guilty of it myself), and I almost stopped reading. But I’m glad I didn’t.
After that, he offered a thoughtful — if broad — list of metrics he’d use to judge the bill’s success: how the economy performs, whether national debt and inflation improve and if real wages outpace the cost of living. He wants to see more job creation, better border control, less fraud in entitlement programs, progress on energy independence and improvements for vulnerable people and communities of color. Some goals are general, but others tie directly to the bill.
I didn’t expect such a detailed list. My friend doesn’t usually frame things in policy terms, but here he was offering what I saw as a solid, practical framework. I told him so, and added some of my own metrics:
Will Medicaid and SNAP cuts displace vulnerable families? Will they meaningfully reduce fraud? Will tax and regulatory changes foster broad economic growth or deepen inequality and increase social risk? Will we undo progress made under the Inflation Reduction Act on climate, health care and clean energy? How will rural communities like much of West Virginia fare, especially if hospitals, local media or schools lose critical funding? Will costs for child care, housing and elder care become more manageable? Will we help people transition off public assistance or simply cut supports and hope they manage? Will this bill build public trust or further harden political divides? And what about the projected $3.3 to $3.4 trillion increase in the deficit over the next decade? How do supporters reconcile that with years of Republican warnings about the dangers of federal debt?
In good faith, I also looked at the Inflation Reduction Act using these same filters. My takeaway? The IRA isn’t perfect, but on jobs, energy, drug pricing, infrastructure and tax fairness, it delivered more than critics expected. It showed real, measurable outcomes. I didn’t offer my response as a “gotcha.†I conceded where Biden’s plan fell short. The point is to talk to each other — not past each other — and to agree on how we measure results.
That’s the kind of engagement we desperately need. It’s the kind of dialogue I aim for in my work on my show "Us & Them" — creating space where people with opposing views can exchange ideas without dismissing one another. I’m grateful my friend was willing to engage — not just to defend a side, but to help define a shared basis for accountability.
I’ve saved the exchange between me and my buddy. I’ll revisit it in 12, 24, even 36 months. Will he say the “Big Beautiful Bill†delivered? Will I have to concede it worked better than expected? I’m open to the data, wherever it leads.
Without common metrics, democracy becomes a shouting match where no one’s keeping score. If we want to move past slogans, spin and “turd polishing,†we need shared terms and agreed on measures. That’s the kind of conversation America needs — on social media, in journalism and around the dinner table.
My buddy and I set a benchmark. Let’s check back in a few months.
