Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Top Stories

What does censure mean?

Paul Gosar

Rep. Paul Gosar of Arizona is the 24th House member to be censured.

Jonathan Ernst/Getty Images

For the first time in more than a decade, the House of Representatives censured one of its members Wednesday. While the rarely used action does not include expulsion, Rep. Paul Gosar faces other consequences that hamper his ability to participate in the legislative process.

The House voted 223-207 to censure the Arizona Republican after he shared an animated video on social media depicting him killing Democratic Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and attacking President Biden. The vote was split largely along party lines, with only two Republicans — Liz Cheney of Wyoming and Adam Kinzinger of Illinois — joining Democrats in the affirmative. (One other Republican, David Joyce of Ohio, voted present.)

This week's censure is only the 24th time such a disciplinary action has been taken in the House. While the disciplinary action has been used sporadically in modern history, it was more popular in the 1800s when disputes over the Civil War would break out.


The implications of censure

To censure a member of Congress means to register deep disapproval with the member's misconduct. It's a more severe formal rebuke than reprimanding, but doesn't go as far as expelling the lawmaker from the House.

"[Censure] is the first level of punishment that carries actual consequences for the members beyond a public embarrassment or a public reprimation. Censure has teeth," said Brad Fitch, president and CEO of the Congressional Management Foundation.

When censured, members can lose their seniority and committee assignments, which significantly diminishes their power in Washington. In Gosar's case, the Arizona Republican was stripped of his two committee assignments: the Oversight and Reform Committee and the Natural Resources Committee. Gosar can still remain in his caucuses, cast floor votes and make procedural motions.

Another aspect of censure is public embarrassment. When the House speaker reads the resolution calling for the censure of a member, that lawmaker must stand in the well of the House — front and center in the chamber, facing their colleagues. During Wednesday's vote, some of Gosar's conservative colleagues stood behind him in the well.

"One cannot diminish the psychological impact of having to stand in the well and hearing the censure read to all your colleagues," Fitch said. "It's perhaps done for dramatic effect, but from a congressional perspective and from the history of the House and Senate perspective, it has weight, as well as the actual other punishment that comes."

The history of censure in Congress

The House first censured one of its members in 1832 when Rep. William Stanberry of Ohio insulted Speaker Andrew Stevenson of Virginia. But perhaps one of the most well-known and dramatic incidents that led to a censure took place two decades later.

In 1856, tensions in Congress over the expansions of slavery came to a boiling point when Rep. Preston Brooks of South Carolina brutally beat Sen. Charles Sumner of Massachusetts with a cane in the Senate chamber. The House failed to reach a two-thirds vote to expel Brooks for his actions, but lawmakers did vote to censure Rep. Laurence Keitt, who assisted in the assault on Sumner.

Before Gosar, the last House member to be censured was Democrat Charles Rangel of New York in 2010 over a string of ethics violations.

Although not a censure, the House did vote earlier this year to strip Georgia Republican Marjorie Taylor Greene of her committee assignments for offensive social media posts she made before being elected to Congress.

The Senate has had only eight instances of censure, with the most recent rebuke occurring in 1990, when Republican David Durenberger of Minnesota was punished for campaign finance and ethics violations.

Read More

Congress Bill Spotlight: Remove the Stain Act

A deep look at the fight over rescinding Medals of Honor from U.S. soldiers at Wounded Knee, the political clash surrounding the Remove the Stain Act, and what’s at stake for historical justice.

Getty Images, Stocktrek Images

Congress Bill Spotlight: Remove the Stain Act

Should the U.S. soldiers at 1890’s Wounded Knee keep the Medal of Honor?

Context: history

Keep ReadingShow less
The Recipe for a Humanitarian Crisis: 600,000 Venezuelans Set to Be Returned to the “Mouth of the Shark”

Migrant families from Honduras, Guatemala, Venezuela and Haiti live in a migrant camp set up by a charity organization in a former hospital, in the border town of Matamoros, Mexico.

(Photo by Andrew Lichtenstein/Corbis via Getty Images)

The Recipe for a Humanitarian Crisis: 600,000 Venezuelans Set to Be Returned to the “Mouth of the Shark”

On October 3, 2025, the U.S. Supreme Court cleared the way for Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem to end Temporary Protected Status for roughly 600,000 Venezuelans living in the United States, effective November 7, 2025. Although the exact mechanisms and details are unclear at this time, the message from DHS is: “Venezuelans, leave.”

Proponents of the Administration’s position (there is no official Opinion from SCOTUS, as the ruling was part of its shadow docket) argue that (1) the Secretary of DHS has discretion to determine designate whether a country is safe enough for individuals to return from the US, (2) “Temporary Protected Status” was always meant to be temporary, and (3) the situation in Venezuela has improved enough that Venezuelans in the U.S. may now safely return to Venezuela. As a lawyer who volunteers with immigrants, I admit that the two legal bases—Secretary’s broad discretion and the temporary nature of TPS—carry some weight, and I will not address them here.

Keep ReadingShow less
For the Sake of Our Humanity: Humane Theology and America’s Crisis of Civility

Praying outdoors

ImagineGolf/Getty Images

For the Sake of Our Humanity: Humane Theology and America’s Crisis of Civility

The American experiment has been sustained not by flawless execution of its founding ideals but by the moral imagination of people who refused to surrender hope. From abolitionists to suffragists to the foot soldiers of the civil-rights movement, generations have insisted that the Republic live up to its creed. Yet today that hope feels imperiled. Coarsened public discourse, the normalization of cruelty in policy, and the corrosion of democratic trust signal more than political dysfunction—they expose a crisis of meaning.

Naming that crisis is not enough. What we need, I argue, is a recovered ethic of humaneness—a civic imagination rooted in empathy, dignity, and shared responsibility. Eric Liu, through Citizens University and his "Civic Saturday" fellows and gatherings, proposes that democracy requires a "civic religion," a shared set of stories and rituals that remind us who we are and what we owe one another. I find deep resonance between that vision and what I call humane theology. That is, a belief and moral framework that insists public life cannot flourish when empathy is starved.

Keep ReadingShow less
The Myth of Colorblind Fairness

U.S. Supreme Court

Photo by mana5280 on Unsplash

The Myth of Colorblind Fairness

Two years after the Supreme Court banned race-conscious college admissions in Students for Fair Admissions, universities are scrambling to maintain diversity through “race-neutral” alternatives they believe will be inherently fair. New economic research reveals that colorblind policies may systematically create inequality in ways more pervasive than even the notorious “old boy” network.

The “old boy” network, as its name suggests, is nothing new—evoking smoky cigar lounges or golf courses where business ties are formed, careers are launched, and those not invited are left behind. Opportunity reproduces itself, passed down like an inheritance if you belong to the “right” group. The old boy network is not the only example of how a social network can discriminate. In fact, my research shows it may not even be the best one. And how social networks discriminate completely changes the debate about diversity.

Keep ReadingShow less