There’s a moment in Cool Hand Luke when Luke, played by Paul Newman, is returned to a prison camp after escaping. Determined to break his will, the guards order him to dig a hole. After the hole is dug, another guard instructs him to fill it in.

Dig. Fill. Dig. Fill.

The exercise is not about punishment. It’s about submission.

After hours of exhaustion and abuse, Luke finally breaks. A guard looks down at him and asks, “You got your mind right, Luke?”

Luke pleads, “Yeah. I got it right. I got it right, Boss.”

The guards haven’t changed Luke’s circumstances. They have changed what he is willing to accept.

Donald Trump’s greatest political achievement has not been winning elections. It has been convincing millions of Americans to get their minds right, to accept his version of events regardless of the evidence, and to believe he should never be held responsible for failure.

Politicians have always depended on loyalty. Supporters forgive mistakes and defend policies they agree with. But Trump has taken loyalty further. He has persuaded his followers to surrender one of the most basic responsibilities of citizenship: judging a leader by his actions and their consequences.

Iran is the clearest example.

Trump promised to end endless wars and restore American strength. Instead, the conflict continues through exchanges of bombings and a ceasefire that has repeatedly collapsed. The result has been greater instability, higher energy prices, and no clear or lasting victory. Yet his most committed supporters continue to stand with him.

When the results fall short, Trump is never responsible. Iran is treacherous. The generals failed him. The news media distorted the facts. Political opponents undermined him.

There is always someone else to blame.

That is not accountability. It’s absolution.

Trump promised to lower prices. Yet Americans continue to struggle with groceries, gasoline, housing, insurance and debt. Affordability remains their leading financial concern, while approval of Trump’s handling of the economy and cost of living has fallen sharply.

Still, many supporters refuse to hold him responsible. Higher prices are Biden’s fault. Tariffs will work eventually. Economic statistics cannot be trusted. Every hardship is temporary. Prosperity is always just around the corner.

Trump also campaigned on lowering housing costs. His administration supported the bipartisan 21st Century ROAD to Housing Act and called it landmark legislation. Congress passed it by overwhelming margins. The measure was intended to increase the housing supply and help lower costs. But Trump refused to sign it because the Senate had not approved an unrelated voting bill he wanted.

The housing measure became law without his signature.

Here was bipartisan legislation addressing one of the central issues on which Trump had campaigned. Yet when he chose political leverage over housing affordability, his supporters remained with him.

That is the ethical issue. Principles have meaning only when we apply them consistently.

If affordability matters when Trump campaigns on it, it should still matter when Congress sends him a bill addressing it. If cooperation is desirable when it advances his agenda, it should not become irrelevant when he refuses to claim the result.

Ethics cannot survive that kind of double standard.

Trump doesn’t simply ask his supporters to accept his policies. He asks them to accept his version of reality. It’s his most useful tactic: When he wins, the election was fair. When he loses, it was corrupt. Courts are legitimate when they rule for him. Economic numbers are accurate when they flatter him. Legislation is worthwhile when he receives the credit.

Everything else becomes persecution, conspiracy or betrayal.

It would be easy to dismiss his supporters as ignorant. It would also be unfair. Many know prices remain high. They see the contradictions and understand that promises have gone unfulfilled.

But loyalty has replaced judgment.

For many, Trump’s value is no longer determined by whether he improves their lives. It is determined by whether he attacks the people they distrust. If his actions anger Democrats, embarrass the press or punish perceived enemies, failure can still feel like victory.

Citizenship requires more.

It requires us to ask whether a leader tells the truth, accepts responsibility and serves the public interest. Most important, it requires us to apply the same standards to those we support that we apply to those we oppose.

Trump captured his followers’ hearts by telling them they had been forgotten. He captured their minds by convincing them that only he could be trusted.

Once loyalty replaces accountability, failure no longer matters.

And ethics no longer has a voice.