The Sidestep (Redux)

All performance, no policy—just another act in Washington’s longest-running farce

Forty-four years ago, I had the experience of a lifetime playing an Aggie football player in the national tour—and later the Broadway run—of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. It was very cool being in a hit show for three years. The lines and bits become ingrained in your psyche and never really leave.

A lot of the show feels dated now, but one scene remains depressingly relevant: the Texas governor’s “Sidestep.” (Yes, I’ve referenced it before—but it keeps earning a reprise.) It opens with a press gaggle lobbing softballs, including, “Governor, what do you think about the explosive situation in the Middle East?” (Funny how some things never change.) With folksy gravitas, he replies: “I think the Jews and the A-rabs should settle their differences in a Christian manner.”

Great line. But then comes the punchline—the reporters ask what he’s going to do about the Chicken Ranch—the nicest little whorehouse you ever saw. And instead of answering, he breaks into a literal tap dance. Thus, “The Sidestep.”

Absurd? Sure. But also a dead-on metaphor for what passes as leadership in Washington. Today, we’ve evolved—or devolved—from sidestepping to outright avoidance. Abdication of duty is now bipartisan policy. Congress may be paralyzed on actual legislation, like sunsetting Section 230, but they’re still great at performing. I wrote about political theatre in a previous essay, and with every grandstanding committee hearing, the actors keep acting. That’s all they do.

A few weeks ago, I reached out to Senator Tim Kaine’s chief of staff to ask if he had contacts in Lindsey Graham’s or Dick Durbin’s offices. Durbin and Graham had co-sponsored a bill to sunset Section 230, and I hoped to offer help. Kaine’s office had no contact for Graham, so I dug some up myself.

To my surprise, a senior policy advisor for Graham actually replied, CC’ing colleagues who supposedly handle the issue. I thought—maybe—I had some traction.

Meanwhile, Kaine’s COS offered nothing beyond a note that we’d need another champion since Durbin had announced his retirement. I thought: this isn’t just sidestepping—it’s classic congressional can-kicking. The guy still chairs a committee. He still has work to do. It felt like laziness.

Then Graham’s staff went dark.

At first I was frustrated. Then I read a piece in Slate that put it all in perspective:

Senate Democrats had a troubling episode earlier this week. They were forcing a vote to kill the national emergency Trump invoked for his “Liberation Day” tariffs. This is something they had a majority for; a similar resolution addressing the Canada tariffs passed earlier this year with four Republican votes. This time, though, it didn’t work. The vote failed in a 49–49 tie as two supporters missed the vote. Rhode Island Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse was at a conference in South Korea—something Democratic leaders knew about—while Kentucky Sen. Mitch McConnell was out sick.

Not only did that vote fail, but then Vice President J.D. Vance showed up to cast a tiebreaker on a subsequent vote to ensure the resolution couldn’t get a revote later on.

Democrats tried to spin this afterward as a secret political win because they’d forced Republicans to go on the record supporting the tariffs. But losing a vote you were supposed to win looks an awful lot more like a screwup. The vote came a week after Democratic Whip Dick Durbin announced he would retire at the end of his term. His response? “I don’t think anything went wrong. We just needed more votes.”

As Slate’s Jim Newell put it, that “sounds like a guy who already has one foot in a Fort Myers timeshare.”

That’s when it hit me: nothing is going to happen—not with Section 230, not with anything—until at least 2027. Maybe not even then. Congress is broken. The man who was supposed to champion the bill has already checked out. And Lindsey Graham’s office is tap dancing their way through the routine.

The Lady G performs “The Sidestep” — no answers, no legislation, just a soft-shoe shuffle around Section 230.

If Cole Escola decides to take another break from Oh, Mary!, The Lady G is the perfect replacement.

Section 230 reform in Congress is dead for the foreseeable future. So it’s time to go after the money—the advertisers who fund social media platforms. That’s where the pressure point is now. And in the coming weeks, I’ll show you how.

Congress may have checked out—but advertisers are still all in