In recent weeks, a firestorm has erupted over claims that former President Joe Biden’s administration relied heavily on an autopen—a mechanical device replicating a person’s signature—to sign official documents, including high-profile pardons issued in the waning days of his presidency.

This revelation, spearheaded by analysis from The Heritage Foundation’s Oversight Project and amplified by President Donald Trump, has ignited a debate that blends legal nuance, political theater, and questions about accountability.

For conservatives, it’s a potential scandal that underscores long-held suspicions about Biden’s leadership.

Yet, a closer look reveals a story that’s less about conspiracy and more about the messy realities of modern governance—though serious questions remain.

The controversy kicked off when The Heritage Foundation, a prominent conservative think tank, released a report alleging that Biden’s signature on numerous documents—ranging from executive orders to pardons—wasn’t his own handiwork but the product of an autopen or digital facsimile.

The Oversight Project, led by investigator Mike Howell, pointed to specific instances, including pardons granted on January 19, 2025, just before Trump’s inauguration.

Among those pardoned were Hunter Biden, Dr. Anthony Fauci, General Mark Milley, and the January 6 Committee members—figures whose clemency has already stirred partisan outrage.

Posts on X and articles from outlets like The Gateway Pundit and Blaze Media have fueled the narrative, with some claiming that Biden, sidelined by age or disengagement, allowed staffers to wield unchecked power via the autopen.

President Trump took to Truth Social, declaring these pardons “VOID, VACANT, AND OF NO FURTHER FORCE OR EFFECT” because they were allegedly signed mechanically rather than personally.

For many on the right, this fits a broader critique of Biden’s presidency: a figurehead leader whose aides ran the show while he vacationed or faded from the spotlight.

Here’s where the story gets complicated.

The use of autopens isn’t new, nor is it inherently illegal. In 2005, the Department of Justice issued an opinion stating, “The President need not personally perform the physical act of affixing his signature to a bill he approves and decides to sign in order for the bill to become law.”

This precedent, established under the George W. Bush administration, suggests that a president’s intent to sign—not the physical act—carries legal weight. Courts have upheld similar principles, recognizing that modern presidencies rely on delegation to function.

Historical examples abound. Presidents from Dwight Eisenhower to Barack Obama have used autopens for routine documents, often with congressional approval for bills signed remotely.

Even Biden’s team, aware of this precedent, took pains to ensure he signed major legislation in person when possible—flying bills to South Korea and St. Croix during his tenure, according to CNN.

Yet, the administration did use an autopen for a 2024 FAA funding bill, a move that kept $105 billion flowing without delay.

So why the uproar over pardons?

Unlike bills, pardons are unilateral executive acts steeped in personal prerogative.

Critics argue that if Biden didn’t physically sign them—or, worse, didn’t know what he was signing—the process undermined their legitimacy.

The Heritage report hints at this, citing an anonymous Biden staffer who allegedly admitted to “unilateral decisions” on what got signed.

If true, it’s a damning indictment of oversight—but it’s not yet proven.

President Trump’s push to nullify these pardons isn’t just legal posturing; it’s a political power move.

The list of pardon recipients reads like a conservative hit list: Hunter Biden, whose legal troubles have long been a GOP rallying cry; Fauci, a lightning rod for COVID-19 policy debates; and the January 6 Committee members, whom Trump has branded as “Political Thugs.” Voiding their pardons would signal a muscular reversal of Biden’s legacy—and a warning to Trump’s foes.

But the law isn’t on his side. Legal scholars, even those skeptical of Biden, note that autopen signatures carry precedent-backed validity.

Trump’s claim hinges on proving not just mechanical signing but a lack of presidential intent—a high bar requiring hard evidence, not just speculation.

The Supreme Court might eventually weigh in if challenges escalate, but this remains a long shot.

The pardons will likely hold without clear evidence of fraud—say, forged intent rather than mechanical signatures. The real fallout may be political: a rallying cry for the right, a footnote for the left, and a lingering “what if” for everyone else.