Kristina Becvar is the Chief Operating Officer of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
The day after celebrating the 4th of July, I embarked on a road trip across the United States. In the past week, I've had the opportunity to travel nearly 4,000 miles across ten states, and the beauty that is the American landscape has not escaped my attention.
Starting from Chicago, I passed through Wisconsin, Minnesota, and most of South Dakota before hitting the "gateway to the west" and the transformative landscape changes that take shape around Badlands National Park. Venturing further into Wyoming and Montana, through the gem that is Yellowstone, and crossing into Idaho and Washington, the diversity of the landscape was matched only by the diversity of culture in the small towns where we stopped for food, gas, or just a break in the drive. I currently find myself in Humboldt County, Northern California, where my youngest studies forestry. As I write this from a lodge in a logging industry town adjacent to one of the most majestic of the remaining redwood forests, I am reminded of the profound impact of the work of Bridge Alliance members in fostering constructive dialogue and finding solutions for our nation's most pressing issues.
Here in Humboldt County, the delicate balance between economic prosperity and environmental conservation has long been a topic of intense debate. Sea levels are rising at an alarming rate, surpassing any other location on the West Coast. The realities of overfishing and increased wildfire risks cannot be ignored, while the livelihoods of local communities and the future of our natural heritage are at stake. However, what struck me most was the community's commitment to open, practical discussions about finding sustainable solutions. Their ability to transcend divisive politics is a blueprint for nationwide climate change action.
This week, I also had the privilege of attending a program presented by the Network for Responsible Public Policy on Climate Change Solutions, featuring esteemed guest speaker Bill McKibben. From his home in flood-ravaged Vermont, McKibben shed light on the urgency of the climate crisis and the need for transformative conversations. The recent record-breaking temperatures and extreme weather events remind us of our collective responsibility to address climate change like never before. We are witnessing a planet unlike any in human history, demanding new and unprecedented conversations.
Amidst these challenges, there is reason for hope. A recent Pew research study revealed that 74 percent of Americans now support international efforts to combat climate change. It is heartening to see strong bipartisan support for alternative fuels, such as solar and wind energy generation, as well as utilizing federal public lands for sustainable solutions. Despite our differences, Americans agree more than we disagree, allowing us to find common ground and develop solutions that meet our collective needs. However, we must navigate the complexities of corporate interests and the politicization of environmental issues, which often hinder progress.
One area where this conflict is evident is in the realm of environmental, social, and governance (ESG) factors in investment and business decisions. While many politicians advocate for the freedom of businesses to make decisions in their best interest, with the Supreme Court ruling last month that the First Amendment protects their right to do so, surrounded by much debate. But the same logic is not being extended to decisions that support innovation in environmental protection. Many states are passing laws restricting the use of ESG factors, despite the lack of evidence suggesting that American CEOs are seeking to harm shareholder value. Understanding the concerns of the next generation of consumers, companies are adapting their products and services towards decarbonization and natural ecosystem-friendly practices. By restricting free market investment and impeding business decisions based on company culture, politicians risk harming taxpayers and pensioners while hindering progress toward a sustainable future. The motives behind such political pushback warrant further scrutiny.
One factor contributing to this pushback is the influence of special interest groups that prioritize corporate profits over environmental health and safety. This interference impedes the necessary cultural shift toward environmental protection and leads to catastrophic incidents such as oil disasters and wildfires. While we may not always have perfect solutions or prevent individuals from prioritizing personal gain over collective health, we must hold our elected officials accountable for their appointments and ensure the highest bidder does not sway those responsible for evaluating government protections.
As Americans, we hold dear our autonomy and freedom, values that manifest in various ways. However, we must rise above our polarized culture and find common ground to address the climate crisis. The future of generations to come depends on our ability to bridge divides, collaborate, and prioritize the health and preservation of our environment.
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.