The President sued his own government for $10 billion, his own Justice Department declined to fight back, and the two sides walked out with a $1.776 billion settlement paid from your money. A federal judge read all of it and ruled the case was staged. The government lawyer who signed that settlement spent years as the President’s personal criminal defense attorney before he took the job. His name is Todd Blanche. He runs the Justice Department today, and no part of that record has been undone.
Undoing it is the job of the House of Representatives, and the tool sits in Article II of the Constitution. It reaches every civil officer of the United States and requires nothing more than a simple majority of the members who show up and vote. Here is why voters across the political spectrum should want the House to impeach Blanche in 2027.
First, what impeachment means
Impeachment is an accusation. It works like an indictment.
The House votes on formal charges called articles of impeachment, and a majority of the members present and voting on any single article impeaches the official, which in a full House with everyone voting comes to 218, and not one of those votes moves him out of his office. He keeps his job that night. He goes to work the next morning. The Senate then holds a trial and decides whether to remove him.
Impeachment requires no criminal conviction and no criminal charge. The Constitution names treason and bribery, then adds a wider phrase, other high crimes and misdemeanors, and the Framers left that phrase for Congress to apply. In Nixon v. United States in 1993, the Supreme Court held that a challenge to Senate impeachment trial procedures raised a political question it would not decide.
So the question in front of the House has nothing to do with whether a prosecutor would indict Todd Blanche. The question is whether the conduct sitting in the public record fits a man running the Justice Department. I don’t think his conduct does, and I’m not alone. Three counts stand out.
He settled a case for his old client, and a federal judge called it staged
Follow the sequence. In January 2026, President Trump and his two oldest sons sued the IRS over the leak of his tax returns and asked for $10 billion. Trump was suing his own administration. The Justice Department was the defendant, which means Blanche’s department was supposed to be defending you, the taxpayer, against the man who gave him the job.
The lawsuit had all kinds of legal issues and wasn’t filed within the statute of limitations. Rather than filing motions to dismiss or other similar responsive documents denying wrongdoing and liability, the DOJ didn’t file a single responsive document on behalf of the IRS. No defenses were raised or asserted.1
The lawsuit was bogus and I wrote about the details several times here on my Substack. By May the two sides had settled before being forced to go back into court and explain to the judge why this case wasn’t a fraud on the court. A May 18 order from Blanche created a $1.776 billion fund, drawn from the federal judgment fund, for people who claimed the government had been weaponized against them. That settlement permanently barred the IRS from pursuing tax claims against Trump, his two oldest sons, his company, and affiliated family companies. Picture a man suing a business he owns, sitting on both sides of the table, and paying himself out of an account that belongs to you.
Then a judge read it.
On July 13, 2026, United States District Judge Kathleen Williams issued an order running 56 pages. She found the two sides were never opposed to each other in any real way and that the case had been “brought to manipulate the judicial process.” She wrote that the administration “failed to defend this lawsuit” and dodged the court’s questions about jurisdiction because its position would not survive scrutiny. She called the litigation bad faith and barred the parties from invoking the settlement in official proceedings. She sanctioned one of Trump’s private attorneys and referred him to the Florida bar. She directed the clerk to alert the New York bar as to Blanche. Her order answered a letter from 35 former federal judges asking whether the settlement amounted to a fraud on the court.
Fast forward to today and the fund is supposedly dead. Republican senators John Cornyn and Thom Tillis blocked his confirmation over this settlement, and under that pressure Blanche signed a written order on August 2 saying the May 18 order was “rescinded and shall have no force or effect.” The document signed by Blanche doesn’t have any legal force or effect, but despite that legal fact, Cornyn and Tillis said they were satisfied. Two days later the Judiciary Committee advanced him 12 to 10. Six days after that the Senate confirmed him.2
His defenders will say the system worked. The rescission killed the fund and left him free to create a comparable one later. The tax immunity survived untouched. The piece that protects the President personally is still standing. Blanche told Congress out loud for weeks that the fund was finished, then refused to put a single word of it on paper until the day his own confirmation hung in the balance and two Republican senators made the paper the price of their votes. Senator Dick Durbin says that in a private meeting before the hearing, Blanche called the fund “a mistake” and criticized the judge who exposed it. He never said either thing in public.
Trump’s attorneys have appealed the Williams order to the Eleventh Circuit, which has not ruled. A judge’s findings that the Justice Department staged a lawsuit and refused to defend the public’s interest do not disappear because the money got clawed back after the fact.
The crypto memo
When Blanche joined the Justice Department, he owned cryptocurrency worth between $159,000 and $485,000, including Bitcoin, Solana, Cardano, Ethereum, and stock in Coinbase. He signed an ethics agreement in February 2025. It gave him 90 days from his March confirmation to sell, and it required him to stay out of any matter carrying a “direct and predictable effect on my financial interests in the virtual currency” until his crypto products were sold.
On April 7, 2025, holding every coin of it, he issued a memo titled “Ending Regulation by Prosecution.” The memo ordered an end to investigations opened under the prior administration into crypto exchanges and the companies and dealers behind them. It dissolved the Justice Department’s National Cryptocurrency Enforcement Team, the unit built to chase fraud and money laundering in that market, and it pledged the department’s help to the President’s crypto working group. Trading spiked on the news.
He divested in late May and early June of 2025. His ethics filing says his Bitcoin and the rest “were gifted in their entirety to my grandchild and adult children,” a transfer his records value at between $116,000 and $315,000, and he sold another $5,000 to $75,000 worth outright. Virginia Canter, who served as an ethics lawyer under four presidents, called that an obvious conflict of interest. The trophy moved from his shelf to a shelf down the hall in the same house.
The Campaign Legal Center, a nonpartisan watchdog, asked the Justice Department’s acting inspector general to investigate whether a criminal violation occurred. Kedric Payne, the group’s general counsel, calculated that Blanche’s Bitcoin alone climbed 34 percent in value between the day he signed the memo and the day he gave the assets away, landing near $105,881. Six United States senators wrote him that he had at minimum a “glaring conflict of interest” and should have recused himself. A department spokesperson said his crypto orders were “appropriately flagged, addressed and cleared in advance,” then declined to say who cleared them.
No inspector general has issued findings. No court has ruled. What exists is a documented timeline sitting next to a signed ethics agreement that the timeline appears to break, plus the assessment of outside ethics lawyers who read both. The statute those lawyers point to carries up to a year in prison, and five years for a willful violation. In an impeachment, that is what an investigation is for.
Strip the politics out and run the same facts through a smaller office. A state insurance commissioner kills fraud investigations into insurance companies and holds a six figure position in insurance stock the entire time. You would not need a law degree to know that stinks.
The Epstein files and the people that law was written to protect
Congress passed the Epstein Files Transparency Act on November 18, 2025, and the President signed it the next day. It requires the Attorney General to publish the Justice Department’s unclassified Epstein records.
Attorney General Pam Bondi later told the House Oversight Committee that she handed oversight of that document review to her deputy. Her deputy was Todd Blanche. He announced the release. He was the face of it.
Two things went wrong.
The Justice Department published the names and personal information of survivors who had asked for their identities to be protected. The department redacted the names of people connected to Epstein. Survivors describe being retraumatized by finding their own information posted for anyone to read.
The department also failed to obey the statute, publishing roughly 3.5 million pages against a universe it admits runs past 6 million documents. On June 27, 2026, United States District Judge Emmet Sullivan found that Blanche “has conceded that he is in violation” of the Act and ordered him to comply or explain why compliance was impossible.
Then there is the testimony. On May 19, 2026, Blanche sat before a Senate Appropriations subcommittee, was asked in public whether he would meet with survivors, answered with the words “I have met with them,” and added that he had met with many of their lawyers as well. A coalition of nearly 20 survivors and family members answered that he had never met a single one of them. When he finally did sit down with survivors, Annie Farmer told reporters she found him “abrasive” and “intentionally noncommittal,” and she urged senators to block his confirmation.
One more piece to the entire Epstein matter also deserves close scrutiny. On July 24 and 25 of 2025, Blanche personally ran a nine hour interview of Ghislaine Maxwell, convicted in 2021 of helping Epstein traffic underage girls, days after a House panel denied her immunity, work that normally falls to an FBI agent or a line prosecutor.
She told him she never saw Trump acting inappropriately and that nothing in Epstein’s birthday book came from him. Blanche let it stand. A week later the Bureau moved her from prison in Tallahassee to Federal Prison Camp Bryan, a minimum security camp whose open grounds are closed to sex offenders absent an administrator’s waiver. She has a service puppy, reserved workout hours, meals delivered to her unit, and staff a whistleblower says wait on her hand and foot. Senator Cory Booker called it a reward. Congress has been stonewalled on the transfer documents since August of 2025, and the department rewrote the placement rules to give the Attorney General new authority over where a prisoner sleeps. Why did this prisoner get this kind of special attention and treatment?
Now the arithmetic
To impeach, the House needs a simple majority. That number is reachable.
To convict and remove, the Senate needs two thirds of the senators present, 67 if all 100 vote. A Senate majority is able to kill the case in one afternoon with 51 votes. Only 35 Senate seats sit on the ballot this November, meaning 65 senators carry over no matter how the country votes.
No sitting Cabinet officer has ever been removed by impeachment. The only Cabinet officer ever tried was Secretary of War William Belknap in 1876, and he had already resigned before the House impeached him. A majority of senators voted guilty on all five articles. He walked because the vote fell short of two thirds, and most of the senators who voted not guilty said they believed the Senate held no jurisdiction over a man who had already quit.
So why do it.
Congress can walk and chew gum at the same time. Mine of the top ten things a new Congress will start fixing after January 3, 2027, have nothing to do with holding wrongdoers accountable. It will be working to stop the Iran war, reduce prices, save social security and medicare, and replace the healthcare benefits the Republican’s have stripped from tens of millions of Americans. I wrote about it here.
Having said that, and at the same time, this impeachment should be and is on the table too. Because an impeachment forces a recorded vote. It puts every member of Congress on the record, especially regarding the strongest case involving staging a lawsuit in an attempt to move $1.776 billion of public money and buy permanent tax immunity for the Trump. One would be hard pressed to find this acceptable conduct for the chief law enforcement officer of the United States. It builds a subpoena backed investigative record that no press release will match. It runs on its own clock and answers to no appellate calendar. And it settles the question of whether that office doubles as a private law firm for the man who handed Blanche the job.
Impeachment resolutions are privileged. A single member of the House is able to force this onto the floor over the Speaker’s objection, and the Speaker then has two legislative days to schedule it. Leadership buries it only by taking a public vote to bury it.
What you do this week
Call your representative. Ask one question and demand a yes or a no: After the midterms, will you vote to impeach Attorney General Todd Blanche?
Write down the answer and the date you got it. Check the roll call when the vote happens sometime after January 3, 2027, and see whether the answer held.
On January 3, 2027, the 120th Congress is sworn in. The House you seat in November arrives with a clean floor and a full record, and the first thing it owes you is a vote on whether the man who staged a lawsuit against his own government gets to keep running the Justice Department.
And while we’re at it, let’s impeach Trump too.
Mitch Jackson, Esq.
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Question: why was the IRS lawsuit allowed to proceed at all if it was filed outside the statute of limitations? Incidentally, I really enjoy your work. Thank you.
He's a piece of 💩