When the end comes for arrogant, bullying politicians, it usually plays out the way it did for Andrew Cuomo. The New York governor waved the white flag and agreed to resign on Aug. 10, once he realized that the same political allies and media and pop-culture cheerleaders who had been so key to his survival up until that point had abandoned him. That support structure crumbled after New York Attorney General Letitia James released a devastating report detailing 11 separate acts of sexual harassment. James’s broadside freed Democratic foot soldiers in the state Legislature from their fear of Cuomo, and in its aftermath, they were clearly prepared to take their revenge on the man who had long treated them with such contempt. Lawmakers hit the gas on an impeachment inquiry and refused to make face-saving deals with the thug in Albany. At the same time, the coterie of henchmen and sycophants in his inner circle who had done so much to clear a path for him throughout his career, such as gubernatorial secretary Melissa DeRosa, had become targets themselves for their unethical conduct. Suddenly left alone, Cuomo gave up, albeit with the sort of self-involved and unapologetic apologies for his misbehavior that exhibited the same sense of entitlement that characterized his governorship. Few would have predicted that his record as a serial sexual harasser would have provided the silver bullet that finally ended his political...