By the end of next month, Florida will almost certainly have a new face representing it in the U.S. Senate. President-elect Donald Trump has tapped his adopted home state’s senior senator, Marco Rubio, to lead the State Department. And one name has topped the list of speculation for potential successors: Lara Trump.
The president-elect has reportedly spoken with Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis about appointing his daughter-in-law to serve as Rubio’s replacement for the next two years before a special election can be held. To no one’s surprise, Lara Trump expressed interest in joining the world’s greatest deliberative body after stepping down as co-chair of the Republican National Committee earlier this week. From its founding, the Senate has been filled with nepotism and outright corruption. But the appointment of a member of the president’s own family to one of the chamber’s seats would be a wild new ethical frontier.
Lara Trump joining the Senate would be less about serving Floridians’ interests than advancing her father-in-law’s.
With its smaller membership, longer terms and nominative allusions to the Roman Republic, the Senate has always had an air of aristocracy next to the more rough-and-tumble House. The original method for naming senators only added to that impression, with each state’s legislature determining who would hold the two Senate seats in Washington. The Federalist Papers framed this method of appointment as clever way of removing senators further from the passions of popular whims while also integrating state lawmakers into the federal fabric.
The problem, though, is that wealthy candidates simply curried favor with state legislators via campaign donations and other patronage, rather than serving actual constituents. Historians agree that by the Gilded Age, in the late 19th century, corruption and bribery were rampant in determining Senate appointments. It didn’t help that the Senate itself was charged with investigating the conditions around its members’ appointments. Senators were hesitant to do so in many cases, especially when possible wrongdoing was often written off as mere rumor or accusers mysteriously recanted their claims. Further, the bar for proving bribery — for a Senate seat or even just a vote on a bill — was absurdly high, requiring both the candidate’s knowledge of any scheme and for the bribes to have affected the outcome.
Even still, a handful of instances stand out in which the conduct was so egregious as to not be ignored, no matter how much the status quo would prefer otherwise. In 1873, for example, Kansas Sen. Samuel Pomeroy gave a state legislator $7,000 in cash in his unsuccessful campaign for re-election.
By the early 20th century, a series of well-publicized corruption scandals meant that momentum for a constitutional amendment had gathered steam. After ratification of the 17th Amendment in 1913, senators would henceforth be directly elected by their state’s voters. But that shift didn’t mean an end to controversies over the process of obtaining a Senate seat. Ironically, one of the major concerns of the amendment’s backers — that a “millionaire’s club” was essentially buying votes with their fortunes — lingers to this day, with the main difference being just whose pockets are being lined.








