If trust ratings could acquit public officials, we might as well save everyone the trouble.
Forget impeachment courts. Forget prosecutors. Forget defense lawyers. The Senate could simply wheel in the latest survey, project it on a giant screen and declare, “Case dismissed. Fifty-seven percent still likes you.”
That would certainly speed things up.
The question surfaced during Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment trial when the defense asked whether a positive trust rating meant an official could not have betrayed the public trust. It’s the kind of question that sounds devastating until you remember one tiny detail.
The Constitution was not written by pollsters.
Trust ratings tell us whether people approve of a leader. They do not tell us whether that leader met constitutional standards. The two occasionally overlap. They often don’t.
Imagine applying the same logic elsewhere.
A restaurant with five-star reviews couldn’t possibly violate health regulations.
A celebrity with millions of followers must automatically be innocent of everything.
Absurd? Of course. Yet somehow the idea sounds less absurd when politics enters the room.
The Constitution, thankfully, keeps a straighter face.
It says public office is a public trust, not a public fan club. The Supreme Court has repeatedly explained that betrayal of public trust is about conduct, not charisma. It concerns abuse of power, gross faithlessness, inexcusable negligence and other acts that make an official unworthy of continuing in office.
None of those questions can be answered by asking a thousand respondents how they feel this week.
To be fair, trust ratings have their place. Politicians treasure them. Campaign managers frame them. Television commentators dissect them with the enthusiasm of basketball analysts reviewing a last-second shot.
But impeachment is not election night.
An impeachment court doesn’t exist to discover who’s popular. It exists to determine whether the Constitution has been violated.
Those are very different assignments.
Popularity may fill arenas. It cannot fill evidentiary gaps.
If high survey numbers became a constitutional defense, every impeachment trial would eventually devolve into a polling contest. The witness stand would be replaced by a pie chart. The Constitution would quietly exit through the side door while the latest approval ratings took the oath.
That might make for entertaining television.
It would make for terrible constitutional government.
