On Sunday, I detailed some of the advantages and disadvantages of Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s being in charge of the Department of Health and Human Services. While his appointment is an inevitable and in certain ways welcome rebuke of the public health establishment, I remain concerned that his uncertain political record may not adequately steel him for the task of reining in the agency.

But there is one unqualified good from RFK Jr.’s position. The fact that he, of all the living Kennedys (who have largely disowned him), is now the one with the most political power is inducing a kind of sour grapes on the left about the whole of the Kennedy legacy. Jeet Heer, The Nation‘s national affairs correspondent, groups RFK Jr.’s appointment in with other Trump attempts to “take over and make his own” the Kennedy brand. While admitting some positive achievements of the Kennedys, he says good riddance, for the most part (better late than never, I guess):

To the extent that the Kennedy name remains relevant, it is as a warning. The Kennedys are a reminder of the dangers of elite impunity, of wealthy figures who are protected from the consequences of their actions by a deferential polity and a praetorian guard of cronies. Trump embodies the worst aspects of the Kennedy legacy and reminds us that America’s problems extend beyond the partisan misdeeds of individual presidents.

The Kennedy name is also a stand-in for oligarchy, which is the root problem with Trumpism.

Politico editor Peter S. Canellos believes that “the Camelot myth has been fraying for decades, like spidering cracks in the once-ubiquitous portraits of the martyred president on dining-room walls,” thanks to revelations of family sordidness and the 2020 electoral defeat of Joseph Kennedy III, Robert F. Kennedy’s grandson. But now, RFK Jr.’s allegiance to Trump means that “two more pillars of the Kennedy mystique have fallen: the sense of family loyalty and the integrity of the Kennedy political brand.” As a result, “the mystique is over. Dignity is lost. Family ties have unraveled. And once again, the Kennedys’ plight is our own.”

All true — save that last part. “Camelot,” the Arthurian shorthand by which John F. Kennedy’s widow Jackie ensured we reflexively referred to the family political brand, was always a myth, as I wrote last August. America need never have been so invested in the political fortunes of a family that for decades has presented its own self-interest as public service, and has turned its own troubles into a broader stand-in for America itself (that is, when it even acknowledged said troubles). Despite our republican regime, we do have political dynasties. But let them rise — or now, one hopes, with the Kennedys — fall on their merits.