The Biden Cover-Up: How It Unfolded & What It Reveals

Joe and Jill Biden at the Human Rights Campaign National Dinner in Washington, DC, on September 15, 2018

During Joe Biden’s presidency, questions about his mental and physical fitness grew louder—but those closest to him worked hard to keep concerns from reaching the public. In Original Sin, Jake Tapper and David Thompson detail how Biden’s inner circle, family members, and Democratic institutions coordinated to hide his decline, motivated by the belief that only Biden could defeat Trump.

How did they pull it off? Through controlled access, carefully staged appearances, attacks on critics, and institutional failures that let the deception continue. Keep reading to learn how the alleged Biden cover-up unfolded and what it reveals about power, loyalty, and accountability in American politics.

Image credit: Wikimedia Commons. License. Image cropped.

The Biden Cover-Up

While Biden’s decline was apparent to many who saw it firsthand, Tapper and Thompson argue in their book Original Sin that a complex web of motivations and mechanisms kept this reality from reaching the public. According to the authors, Biden’s deterioration was systematically concealed through the coordinated efforts of his inner circle, family members, and broader Democratic establishment, all of whom had various reasons for maintaining the fiction that he remained fully capable of serving as president. We’ll examine the key players in the Biden cover-up, the specific tactics they used to control information and access, and how they dealt with critics and potential whistleblowers.

The Inner Circle Decided to Hide Biden’s Condition

At the center of the alleged cover-up was Biden’s inner circle of advisors. Tapper and Thompson explain this group controlled access to the president and shaped the public narrative about his condition. They were united by their loyalty to Biden and their belief in two ideas: that Biden was uniquely capable of defeating Trump, and that any acknowledgment of his limitations would hand the presidency to someone they saw as an existential threat to democracy.

(Shortform note: Nate Silver argues that Biden framed his campaign around simultaneous existential threats—what experts call a “polycrisis”—including the pandemic, the economic crisis, racial injustice, climate change, and attacks on democracy itself. When everything is treated as an existential crisis, it becomes easier to rationalize extreme measures. This aligns with research on noble cause corruption, where people justify unethical actions by believing they serve a greater good, such as preventing catastrophic outcomes. But as Silver notes, this logic can become self-defeating: If everything is an existential threat requiring extraordinary action, then nothing is, and institutions lose legitimacy because of the questionable actions they take.)

Because of these beliefs, the authors contend, Biden’s inner circle rationalized increasingly elaborate deceptions and accommodations. They managed his image through careful staging and presentation, had him professionally coached for major speeches, and used special lighting and sound equipment to optimize his appearance. They would sometimes film Biden in slow motion to blur how slowly he actually moved, and they experimented with different microphone setups to amplify his increasingly weak voice.

(Shortform note: Behaviors that Biden’s advisors worried would be seen as cognitive decline could result from his speech disorder. Biden has stuttered since childhood, and stuttering often becomes more pronounced with age as the energy needed to manage it increases. Some experts see Biden’s eye blinking, mid-sentence pauses, and word substitutions as consistent with techniques stutterers use to avoid problematic sounds. Normally, speech rate slows with age, pauses between words increase, and retrieving specific words becomes more effortful. Yet other experts say Biden’s verbless phrases, problems with suffixes, and loss of formal speech patterns suggest a broader deterioration that even Hollywood coaching couldn’t hide.)

Tapper and Thompson describe how Biden’s family played crucial enforcement roles in this strategy. First Lady Jill Biden supported her husband’s decision to run for reelection while denying his cognitive and physical deterioration. She wielded influence through her chief of staff, who served as an enforcer of loyalty, silencing dissent and excommunicating anyone who raised questions about Biden’s fitness. The authors’ sources suggest that Jill Biden had become attached to the prominence and recognition that came with being First Lady—including multiple Vogue covers and extensive media attention—and was resistant to giving up that status.

(Shortform note: Since the 1920s, First Ladies have been featured regularly in major fashion magazines such as Vogue. The role has evolved from a largely ceremonial position into one of significant cultural influence: Modern First Ladies don’t just set fashion trends—they shape political discourse, champion causes, and serve as symbols of their husbands’ administrations (and campaigns). They appear on late-night television, social media, and magazine covers, reaching audiences that traditional politicians cannot. For most First Ladies—including Jill Biden, who worked as a college professor—the transition to this level of prominence and influence would represent a dramatic change in status and platform.)

Hunter Biden also played a key role in maintaining the protective narrative. The authors report that Hunter had a clear personal interest in keeping his father in office as potential protection from his own legal troubles. His recovery from addiction had become closely tied to his father’s political rise, making him invested in Biden’s continued presidency as a form of redemption for the problems he’d caused the family. According to Tapper and Thompson, Hunter would tell his father that Republican attacks were designed to make Hunter relapse into addiction or commit suicide, creating emotional pressure for Biden to continue fighting politically. Hunter helped push aside anyone who questioned his father’s fitness for continued service.

(Shortform note: Hunter Biden’s case illustrates what experts characterize as the arbitrary and unequal nature and enforcement of drug laws that Joe Biden helped create as a senator. The 1986 Anti-Drug Abuse Act created a 100-to-1 sentencing disparity between users of crack and powder cocaine. The goal was to target crack, which was associated with Black communities, while treating powder cocaine, used more commonly by white Americans, far more leniently. Hunter Biden’s crack cocaine use represented a departure from this racialized norm. But after receiving a presidential pardon from his father—a protection unavailable to thousands of Americans serving prison time under the same drug laws—Hunter spent no time in prison.)

The Administration Controlled What Information Reached Biden

Tapper and Thompson document an elaborate system for controlling what information reached Biden and what information about Biden reached others. Biden’s advisors, particularly Mike Donilon, regularly presented him with misleadingly optimistic assessments of his political prospects. The authors report that polling data was consistently spun to suggest Biden was competitive in races where pollsters saw little chance of victory. This information management became so extreme that when a senior Democratic leader told Biden in July 2024 that his pollsters gave him only a 5% chance of winning, Biden responded with surprise, apparently unaware of how dire his situation had become.

(Shortform note: Donilon had financial incentives to keep Biden in the race despite the polling data: Donilon was paid $4 million for his campaign work and would have received a $4 million bonus if Biden won. The Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision made such payments possible by allowing unlimited spending through independent expenditure-only political action committees, also called super PACs, and removing many campaign finance restrictions. While campaigns can compensate staff however they choose, and “win bonuses” aren’t uncommon, the scale of Donilon’s potential payout was extraordinary, and some former Biden aides have argued that Donilon’s financial motive and loyalty to Biden led the party into political disaster.)

The authors also report that Biden’s team prevented him from taking cognitive tests that might have provided objective evidence of his condition. Despite medical recommendations that people over 65 receive regular cognitive assessments, Biden’s personal physician refused to conduct such tests, arguing that he saw Biden daily and could monitor his condition informally. According to Tapper and Thompson, this decision was part of a broader strategy to avoid creating any official documentation of Biden’s limitations.

(Shortform note: According to medical experts, cognitive screening should be routine for older adults, particularly those in high-stress, high-responsibility positions. Controlled cognitive tests, which measure specific domains such as working memory, processing speed, and executive function, can identify and document declines in functioning that aren’t obvious in everyday conversations. Studies indicate that even subtle cognitive changes—the kind that might not be apparent in routine interactions—can be significant predictors of functional decline. The fact that Biden’s physician argued he could monitor the president’s condition through observation, rather than objective testing, goes against standard medical practice for adults in this age group.)

Biden’s Team Restricted Access to Him

Tapper and Thompson document how Biden’s team limited access to the president to prevent people from witnessing Biden’s condition firsthand. The authors describe how Cabinet secretaries and senior staff were briefed by the inner circle rather than being allowed to interact directly with Biden. When officials did have direct contact with Biden and expressed concerns about his condition, they were told he was fine and that their observations were mistaken or taken out of context.

(Shortform note: The tension between protecting a leader and maintaining transparency isn’t new to politics—or popular culture. Aaron Sorkin explored this dilemma in The West Wing, where fictional President Josiah Bartlet conceals his multiple sclerosis diagnosis while running for reelection, and his circle grapples with whether they’ve deceived voters by hiding his condition. Sorkin noted the parallels with Biden’s situation, but he also argued that if Bartlet’s opponent had posed what his party saw as an existential threat to democracy, he would have stepped aside for whoever had the best chance of defeating that opponent—as he suggested Biden do for Sorkin’s own counterintuitive choice of candidate, Mitt Romney.)

Biden’s team also changed the nature of traditionally informal interactions. Teleprompters became essential even for small fundraising events with just 40 or 50 people—situations where politicians traditionally speak extemporaneously. Some donors became uncomfortable when Biden would simply read from prepared remarks and leave without the expected informal conversations. When concerns were raised about these changes, the authors report, they were dismissed as part of a new, more strategic approach to political communication. 

Physical access to Biden was also limited through what the authors describe as “protective choreography.” Staff would walk beside him to catch him if he fell, guide him through events, and ensure he used shorter stairs and more stable pathways. While these measures were ostensibly for his safety, the authors argue they also served to limit spontaneous interactions that might reveal his condition.

Public Expectations for Presidential Health

Historical precedent suggests that US presidents have long managed serious health conditions with significant accommodations kept from public view. President John F. Kennedy is one example: Despite living with Addison’s disease, chronic back pain, and multiple other ailments that required him to take as many as 12 different medications simultaneously, Kennedy projected an image of youthful vitality throughout his presidency. His limitations were profound: He often couldn’t bend over to tie his shoes and required help getting up stairs. Yet he maintained his public image through strategic accommodations: careful scheduling, physical supports such as back braces, and controlled public appearances.

The comparison raises questions about our expectations for presidents’ health (and their public performances of health). In her analysis of illness as metaphor, Susan Sontag argues that modern societies have developed powerful cultural narratives about what illness means—not just medically, but morally and politically. When we demand that leaders be perpetually ready for unscripted interactions, we may be imposing an unrealistic standard that forces them to conceal their problems rather than receive reasonable accommodations. Perhaps the real issue isn’t whether people with health limitations can occupy political offices, but whether we can acknowledge those limits while still maintaining effective governance.

Biden’s Team Attacked His Critics

Tapper and Thompson document how, when protective measures failed to prevent concerns about his fitness from emerging, Biden’s team attacked those who raised questions about his fitness. The authors describe this as a strategy to discredit critics and create disincentives for others to speak out. An example was the treatment of Special Counsel Robert Hur, whose investigation into Biden’s handling of classified documents included observations about his memory and cognitive state. Rather than addressing Hur’s findings, the White House portrayed him as a partisan actor, despite his careful approach to the investigation. This campaign was so effective that Hur was unable to find work for months after his report was released.

(Shortform note: Hur, a Republican prosecutor appointed by Trump and later selected as special counsel, concluded that Biden shouldn’t be prosecuted for mishandling classified documents, but described him as “a well-meaning, elderly man with a poor memory” to explain why a jury likely wouldn’t convict him. His report was written for the Attorney General as a legal document, not as a public political statement, but the White House immediately attacked him as partisan, a strategy that drew more media attention to Biden’s mental fitness and created a prolonged news cycle about the president’s age. When transcripts of Hur’s Biden interview were released, they largely supported his characterizations, undermining the White House’s credibility.)

The authors also document how journalists who reported on Biden’s age or raised questions about his fitness were subjected to harsh criticism from the administration and its allies. Reporters were accused of advancing Republican talking points or promoting ageist stereotypes. The administration used the concept of “cheapfakes”—misleadingly edited videos—to dismiss any unflattering footage of Biden, even when the full context didn’t change the concerning nature of his behavior. 

(Shortform note: “Cheapfakes” are a form of media used to spread disinformation. “Cheapfakes” take footage out of context, speed it up, slow it down, or manipulate it with easily accessible software, as opposed to “deepfakes,” which use AI tools to alter videos and fabricate a false representation of a person or event. Tapper and Thompson don’t report any claims from the White House that deepfakes were used against Biden—only cheapfakes.)

Democratic politicians who raised concerns faced similar treatment. The authors describe how Representative Dean Phillips of Minnesota, who attempted to challenge Biden in the primary partly due to concerns about Biden’s fitness, was systematically marginalized and kept off the ballots in various states. When other Democrats privately expressed concerns, they were told they were essentially helping Trump and undermining the party’s chances of preventing an authoritarian takeover.

(Shortform note: Jon Stewart experienced intense backlash from Democrats in early 2024 for joking about Biden’s age. Dean Phillips faced similar treatment when he mounted a primary challenge partly due to concerns about Biden’s fitness. Stewart later argued that the institutional pressure to stay silent created a cover-up that ultimately failed because everyone was aware of Biden’s condition—polls consistently showed that a majority of voters thought Biden was too old to run again. When Tapper and Thompson’s book was released, Stewart criticized them for waiting until after the election to report this information, arguing it was “weird” for journalists to sell books about news “they should have told you was news a year ago, for free.”)

Institutional Failures Enabled the Cover-Up

Tapper and Thompson argue that broader institutional failures let the cover-up continue. For example, the Democratic National Committee (DNC) changed primary rules in ways that benefited Biden, moving South Carolina to the first position on the primary calendar. While this was ostensibly done to elevate Black voters, the authors report that DNC officials admitted the main motivation was helping Biden, since South Carolina was one of his stronger states.

Understanding the DNC’s Nomination Process

The Democratic Party had multiple pathways to replace Biden as the nominee, but the party’s post-1968 reforms to its nomination process made using these pathways politically difficult, if not practically impossible. When voters participate in Democratic primaries—a series of state-level elections the party holds six to nine months before a general election—they’re not directly voting for a presidential candidate. Instead, they’re voting for delegates (party activists, local officials, and committed supporters) who pledge to support that candidate at the convention. Before the 1970s, this system worked differently: Party leaders controlled the selection of delegates, and only about 38% of delegates were chosen by primaries.

This system emerged from the chaos of the 1968 election, when anti-war candidate Eugene McCarthy won 39% of primary votes but Vice President Hubert Humphrey secured the nomination by working behind the scenes with party leaders. The disconnect outraged activists, so the party created new rules requiring delegates to “fairly reflect” the preferences of primary voters, rather than those of the party leaders. In the decades following these reforms, the proportion of delegates chosen by binding primaries more than doubled, from 40% in 1968 to 94% by 2020. However, party rules still technically allow for nominee changes should the need arise.

In 2024, Biden was just the presumptive nominee until delegates voted at the convention, and delegates remained “pledged, not bound” to their candidate, a loophole for extraordinary circumstances. But using this loophole would have required thousands of delegates to revolt against a sitting president from their own party. The DNC’s talking points at the time suggested it wouldn’t have been possible to replace Biden, even though party rules provided clear rules for replacing a nominee and ensuring an orderly transition in the event a replacement was necessary. Ultimately, the reforms designed to democratize the party left leadership without a realistic way to manage a fitness crisis when it arose.

The authors suggest this institutional failure extended to Congress, where Democratic leadership remained silent about Biden’s condition. They argue that senators and representatives who had witnessed Biden’s decline firsthand chose party loyalty over their constitutional obligation to provide oversight of the executive branch. According to Tapper and Thompson, this combination of active deception by Biden’s inner circle and passive enablement by Democratic institutions created a system that kept the truth about Biden’s condition from reaching the public until it was too late to prevent the political disaster that followed.

(Shortform note: Congressional Democrats’ silence about Biden’s condition reflects a pattern where many Americans prioritize party loyalty over democratic principles, choosing to defend their political in-group even when doing so conflicts with their values. Neuroscientist Leor Zmigrod’s The Ideological Brain reveals why this happens: When we adopt strong ideological positions, our brains shift activity away from regions responsible for complex decision-making toward areas that govern emotional responses. This impairs our ability to process evidence effectively and recognize errors in our reasoning, helping explain why even lawmakers who’d witnessed Biden’s limitations struggled to question their loyalty to him.)

The authors also describe how the media, despite some critical coverage, failed to investigate Biden’s condition thoroughly. This failure was partly due to access restrictions—Biden conducted fewer interviews and press conferences than any other recent president—but also due to a culture that made questioning his fitness seem inappropriate or partisan. Liberal media figures and Democratic politicians created an environment where even legitimate journalistic inquiry was discouraged.

(Shortform note: It’s a long-held tenet of journalism that a democracy requires informed citizens to function properly, and in this, the press serves two functions. First, it provides people with information they wouldn’t otherwise have. Second, the possibility of press scrutiny changes how officials behave. There’s ongoing debate about how dramatic the press’s impact on public opinion is, yet this may miss the point: Journalism’s proponents argue that the press’s power lies less in changing how people think about an issue and more in bringing information to light and creating the structural pressure that keeps officials accountable.)

Exercise: Recognizing Accountability Failures

Tapper and Thompson argue that multiple institutions—the media, Democratic Party leadership, and government oversight—failed to fulfill their democratic responsibilities regarding Biden’s fitness for office. Think about the various institutions and roles that are supposed to provide checks and balances in democratic systems.

  1. What specific responsibilities do you think different groups (media, political parties, voters, and so on) have in ensuring leaders are fit for office? How should these responsibilities be balanced?
  2. When you see potential problems with leaders in your community, workplace, or political system, what prevents you from speaking up? What would need to change to make accountability more likely?
  3. How can citizens better distinguish between legitimate concerns about leadership and partisan attacks? What standards should guide these evaluations?

Explore the Cover-Up Further

To learn more about the Biden cover-up in its broader context, read Shortform’s comprehensive guide to the book Original Sin.

Leave a Reply