The reason the Christie endorsement was viewed as so pivotal is not because Christie commands a huge bloc—he had to leave the presidential race because he was low on both money and voters—but because it creates a psychological shift, allowing “establishment” Republicans to back Trump.

The group endorsing Trump already doesn’t fit any easy profile. Although Christie toughened up some of his stands ahead of the election, he was perhaps the most moderate Republican in the race. Superficially, LePage and Christie share some similarities—northeasterners, quarantine aficionados, bullies—but LePage is more conservative, and won office in the 2010 Tea Party groundswell. Sessions is a Southerner, a fourth-term senator, and an (unsuccessful) Ronald Reagan appointee as a federal judge. That’s three Republicans of different generations—one from a blue state, one from a bluish-purple state (LePage has won two terms thanks to a three-partly split), and one from a very red state. If you’re trying to pigeonhole the establishment Republicans backing Trump, good luck. That suggests a steady and growing stream of Trump endorsements from this broadly defined “establishment,” especially if Trump does as well on Tuesday as is expected.

Like Marco Rubio’s recent turn to bashing Trump aggressively, there are some uncomfortable questions for the #NeverTrump gang. These aren’t Johnny-Come-Latelies—many of them have despised Trump all along—but Johnny-Speak-Up-Latelies. Is the charge too late to make any difference now? And if it’s not, why did they let things get so out of hand before they acted? Who knows what the long-term damage to the Republican Party will be, but even if it’s small, there’s no advantage to having a guy who won't disavow David Duke as the party’s most prominent politician.

It will be interesting to watch the fallout from Trump’s Duke comments. The whole sequence is bizarre. On Friday, during a press conference, he somewhat flippantly disavowed the support of the former KKK leader. On Sunday, he refused to do so. On Monday, he claimed, rather implausibly, that he didn’t understand the question because of earpiece malfunction. The fumble did at least earn Trump the condemnation of Joe Scarborough, who has been one of his best friends in the mainstream media. The whole incident is in keeping with Trump’s winking relationship with white supremacy and other fringe elements throughout the campaign. He has, for example, blithely retweeted white supremacist Twitter accounts. In disavowing Duke, then kinda, sorta embracing him, then once again disavowing him on Monday, Trump can send a winking signal to Duke and his followers: We can’t explicitly welcome you, but...

The reasons why the Republicans now coalescing around #NeverTrump didn’t want to act are clear enough. Many of them believed—along with vast swathes of liberal and moderate observers—that Trump couldn’t win and would burn himself out. Attacking him carried several risks: First, Trump might turn on them and attack them directly. Second, attacking Trump might be counterproductive, since his support is premised in part on his outsider status—and attacks might only reinforce his appeal. Third, and relatedly, it was clear that while Trump’s views were abhorrent to the Republican leaders themselves, there was a vast bloc of conservative voters who strongly agreed with Trump. Attacking him meant alienating his supporters, and would suggest that the GOP’s harsh rhetoric on issues like immigration might have been just that—rhetoric. As rational as each of these is on its own, however, the cost-benefit analysis didn’t account for what would happen if Trump actually triumphed.