IF HILLARY CLINTON were a high-flying policy wonk seeking a post in the National Security Council, her hopes would surely be dashed by the FBI’s judgment, delivered on July 5th by the bureau’s director, James Comey, that she had been “extremely careless” in her handling of very sensitive, highly classified information during a previous job at the State Department. Specifically, her government career would now be in a state of limbo following the FBI’s finding that dozens of e-mail chains sent to and from a private server at Mrs Clinton’s home included “secret” information, and that eight e-mail chains, some written by her, contained information classified as “top secret: special access programmes”, the highest level.

Were Mrs Clinton up before the Senate seeking confirmation as ambassador to NATO, she could expect to be pounded by senators from both parties, as they examined the gaps between her own statements defending her use of a personal e-mail address for work, and the FBI’s verdict on her conduct. Hostile senators would be able to pick their favourite line of attack.

One senator might note Mrs Clinton’s claim—once her use of a private e-mail server came to light—that she never received or sent any material that was marked as classified. That senator could then quote Mr Comey’s counter-finding, delivered during a highly unusual 15-minute press briefing that at times sounded more like a prosecutor unveiling an indictment, that a “very small number” did in fact bear markings that showed they were classified. Mr Comey offered an additional thought: given the nature of the material contained in the most sensitive e-mails, “there is evidence to support a conclusion that any reasonable person in Secretary Clinton’s position, or in the position of those government employees with whom she was corresponding about these matters, should have known that an unclassified system was no place for that conversation.”

Another senator, in this imaginary ambassadorial confirmation hearing, might query Mrs Clinton’s confidence that there were “no security breaches” as a result of her decision to use a home-brew server for her e-mails. Mr Comey said that the FBI, after a year-long investigation, found “no direct evidence” that Mrs Clinton’s e-mails were hacked. But he added that a breach was “possible” and that given the nature of her server and who might be trying to hack it, “we assess that we would be unlikely to see such direct evidence”. By way of follow-up, Mr Comey noted that some of Mrs Clinton’s regular contacts had their e-mail accounts hacked, that lots of people knew about her use of a personal e-mail domain and that she sent and received work-related personal e-mails “while in the territory of sophisticated adversaries”.

There are other gripes, too. Mr Comey’s investigators found several thousand work-related e-mails that were not handed over to the State Department in 2014, when all such missives were supposed to have been returned, though the FBI boss added that no evidence was found of intentional deletion. Instead he described a mess seemingly born of arrogance, an impatience with the rules that bind less exalted government officials and Mrs Clinton’s fierce desire to keep her personal communications private.

In this hypothetical scenario, a foreign-policy expert called Hillary Rodham Clinton would only be able to raise a thin cheer after hearing the FBI say that it had found no evidence that she had intentionally transmitted or willfully mishandled classified information, and so concluded that “no reasonable prosecutor” would bring criminal charges against her. After being branded so careless with government secrets, she would now be shopping her CV to the think-tanks that cluster thickly around Dupont Circle, in Washington, DC, hoping to pick up a gig writing worthy papers on geopolitics. As it is, Mrs Clinton is not seeking a government job. She is the presumptive Democratic nominee to be president, running against Donald Trump, the Republican and businessman. Does that change everything? It probably does—though many voters will find that a horribly frustrating thought, and with reason. Flawed candidates can be rejected for NSC posts or denied confirmation as ambassadors because Washington heaves with people who would like such jobs, and are eager to step up as replacements. But the presidential election of 2016 is different. America needs a 45th president, ready to start work in January. The two major parties each seem to have made their choices, and the race seems likely to come down to Mrs Clinton versus Mr Trump. That is all the more true, indeed, since the FBI director signaled that his probe had found no grounds to indict Mrs Clinton—an indictment that was the last, best hope of many Republicans who cannot bear the idea of seeing the former secretary of state, senator and First Lady behind the big desk in the Oval Office. Many Americans may heartily dislike the choice that they face, but they cannot wish it away. That is why, as soon as Mr Comey stopped talking, the question of Mrs Clinton’s e-mails moved from the realm of law and evidence into the world of political calculation. Democrats sounded like the wise uncles in a Disney children’s film, finding a teachable moment in a rare display of foolishness by a loved one. Thus Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia, who is tipped as a possible running mate for Mrs Clinton, intoned solemnly that Mr Comey’s scolding was now “a matter of lessons learned”.

Republican bigwigs in Congress sounded more like angry callers to a talk-radio show, declaring themselves “mystified” by the FBI’s conclusions, without explaining precisely how the bureau had misapplied the law. Paul Ryan, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, talked of “unanswered questions”. Representative Robert Goodlatte, who chairs the House Judiciary Committee, recalled the (deeply unwise) decision of the former president, Bill Clinton, to pay a call on the attorney general, Loretta Lynch, on June 27th on board her government aeroplane when the two found each other on the same airport tarmac in Phoenix. Mr Clinton insists that he did not raise his wife’s case with Ms Lynch, who heads the Department of Justice which will take a final decision on whether to press charges against Mrs Clinton, instead talking of grandchildren and golf. Unimpressed, Mr Goodlatte called the federal government’s handling of the Clinton e-mail case “uniquely troubling” in light of that airport meeting. Mr Comey is to appear before a House oversight committee on July 7th to explain his conclusions in the e-mail saga. Ms Lynch has been invited by the Judiciary Committee to answer questions on July 12th about the “disturbing politicisation” of her department.

For his part Mr Trump sounded like a conspiracy theorist given his own talk-radio show, airing allegations that the FBI never substantiated as if they are already a sure thing. Thus in the Republican’s telling, as a result of her e-mail system, “Our adversaries almost certainly have a blackmail file on Hillary Clinton, and this fact alone disqualifies her from service.” What is more, Mr Trump added in a statement, his rival “used the State Department for her personal gain, trading favours for cash, and tried to conceal the records.” She was now escaping “the criminal charges that she deserves” because of a “rigged system”.

To be fair, Mr Trump ended his response on the FBI announcement with a simple, accurate statement. In the matter of Mrs Clinton’s judgment (or as Mr Trump prefers, “her corruption, incompetence and bad judgment”) the “final jury will be the American people,” he declared, and they will issue their verdict on November 8th. He is right. Whether angered, disappointed or left cold by the saga of Mrs Clinton’s e-mails, voters will probably not have the luxury of re-opening the search for a Democratic nominee before election day. They will have to weigh Mrs Clinton’s flaws and assets in the round, and compare them with Mr Trump’s fitness to be president. The choice may feel increasingly uninspiring to many, but it cannot be ducked.