Last week’s letter from Donald Trump’s counsel informing Congress that the administration would not comply with subpoenas demanding information about administration conduct because, well, it did not want to comply, was perfectly in keeping with what we have come to expect.

After all, it is this White House’s position that Trump may obstruct investigations into himself if he wishes those investigations weren’t taking place and would like them to stop. This is more of the increasingly unsubtle authoritarianism with which we have become numbingly familiar — so numbing and so familiar, in fact, that Trump’s moves to obstruct former White House Counsel Don McGahn from testifying before Congress about Trump’s obstruction of criminal investigations into himself barely commanded attention.

The disinterest with which almost half of Americans watch as anti-American authoritarianism takes hold in the White House emboldens its occupant to believe that he can double and triple down on that authoritarianism without consequence. And he may be right. Any lawsuits to force Trump to comply with subpoenas may take forever, and end up in a Supreme Court effectively controlled by justices he appointed.

The attorney general whom he picked has, consistent with what he announced before Trump appointed him, proclaimed that his boss is beyond prosecution for crimes that would send any other American to prison. Democrats cannot decide whether they will initiate impeachment proceedings against Trump, knowing that if they do the Republican-controlled Senate will acquit him faster than you can say, “Please don’t primary me!”

Indeed, Trump has the considerable comfort of knowing that he is shielded by a Republican Party that will go down in history as a protection racket. Apart from the rare, sotto voce murmurings of “concern” about this or that presidential tweet by a Republican senator here and there, followed almost immediately by a reversion to presidential bowing and scraping, Republicans like Sens. Susan Collins and Lindsey Graham have opted to forfeit the respect they had once earned, choosing instead to be remembered as political eunuchs.

One Republican distinguishing himself is former Massachusetts Gov. Bill Weld, who is challenging Trump for the Republican presidential nomination. Weld decided that the honor of his party and the future of his country required that there be a Republican who put himself on the line in opposition to this national nightmare. Whip-smart, as honorable as they come and comfortable in his own skin, Weld has the Don Quixote-like task of trying to remind Republicans of what they believe, or have always said they did — that executive power must be restricted rather than unfettered, respectful of the rule of law rather than disdainful of it.

Weld has ample bona fides to make the traditional Republican case to traditional Republicans. As U.S. Attorney in Massachusetts, appointed and then promoted by Ronald Reagan, he prosecuted Democratic pols, shaking up the Democratic establishment. As governor he slashed taxes and balanced budgets during recessionary years. “I don’t think anyone is to my right or more enthusiastic about tax cuts,” he has said. Credentials like these may enable him to at least plant a flag in some quarters. “(He) is where the Republican Party should be — fiscally conservative and realistic on foreign policy,” says Evan Slavitt, former counsel to the Massachusetts Republican Party, now practicing law in South Carolina.

But Weld, not one to hide behind anyone’s apron, is blunt about his reason for taking on this sharply uphill battle. “I really think that if we have six more years of this same stuff we’ve had out of the White House the last two years, that would be a political tragedy,” he said in announcing his candidacy. Weld knows that one’s legacy matters. He has to hope that others in his party come to the same conclusion.