Rob Richie is president and CEO of FairVote.
Amidst the postmortems about which party “won” the 2022 midterms, there’s an important story that may have a more enduring impact: the record number of Americans turning to ranked-choice voting for better choices, better campaigns and better representation.
On Election Day, a record eight states, counties and cities voted in favor of RCV, a better method of election that enables voters to rank candidates in order of their choice: first, second, third and so on. RCV measures won in Nevada (where it must earn a second vote of approval in 2024) and cities like Seattle and Portland, Ore.
A reform used in only 10 cities in 2016 has grown to more than 60 cities, counties and states – including Alaska for all its federal and state general elections, Maine for all its federal elections, and the mayors and city councils of the largest cities in seven states.
Functionally, RCV makes common sense. In races with more than two candidates – as in elections this year in Maine’s 2nd congressional district and in Alaska’s statewide elections for governor, U.S. Senate, and U.S. House – an “instant runoff” upholds majority rule no matter how divided the vote. It’s far more efficient than a contentious, expensive, lower-turnout runoff, as we saw in Georgia’s Senate race.
The value of RCV for our politics goes deeper. In our era of fierce partisan division, RCV rewards campaigns for building bridges to more voters rather than burning them. It rewards candidates for campaigning and governing in a more positive, inclusive way.
The best approach is often not a formal cross-endorsement, but clear efforts to engage with voters backing other candidates. In Alaska this year, a Democratic candidate for Congress and a Republican candidate for the state legislature are among those who openly sought second-choice support from voters ranking their opponents first – running positive campaigns focused on local issues and their ability to “work with everyone.” Both of these candidates won their elections.
These incentives exist because RCV gives voters the power to show their more independent views. In Alaska, where most voters lean Republican in presidential elections but are registered as independents, the three big statewide winners were a conservative Republican for governor (Mike Dunleavy), the more moderate Republican incumbent senator (Lisa Murkowski), and Democratic Rep.-elect Mary Peltola, who defeated Sarah Palin by 10 percentage points and has become the state’s most popular politician. The state Senate will be governed by a group of Democratic and Republican legislators teaming up to run committees together.
These outcomes underscore how the “Campaigning 2.0” that RCV rewards can improve both representation and accountability between elections. Incoming officials will have built stronger relationships with all parts of their constituency, including with people they wouldn’t otherwise have reached out to. Knowing that a voter prefers another candidate is no longer a barrier to approaching them; you might still need their second or third choice down the line.
Winners as a result earn more votes and outcomes are more certain to be fair. In Alaska’s legislative races, two Republicans and a Democrat won their “instant runoffs” against their top opponent head-to-head – after trailing in first choices.
RCV is clearly ready to scale, just as it has become the norm in such nations as Australia and Ireland. Election officials can run RCV elections smoothly, transparently and with ever-growing ease. Voters are handling well-designed ballots well, and most cities with RCV produce preliminary counts quickly and complete their final tallies on the same timeline as with traditional voting.
Voters in Alaska, Maine and cities that range from our nation’s largest to small Utah towns are showing a positive way forward at a time of great challenges for American democracy. Their voters are reaping the benefits of redefining voting as ranking. In our ongoing quest for a more perfect union, RCV is a proven upgrade to provide better elections for all.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.