Zaidane is the president and CEO of the Millennial Action Project.
History favors the brave – or so the saying goes. From a young age, we are taught of historical heroes, people who stepped out against the status quo and followed their convictions. These acts of bravery transformed the world: advances in civil rights, technological breakthroughs like electricity and the internet, and so much more.
Today, we must summon that bravery once more as Americans pursue one of our biggest, most important challenges yet: building the largest, multiracial, multiethnic, multireligious democracy in the history of the world.
That undertaking is a moonshot. And while history teaches us how to look back and link certain moments or courage else we risk missing out on favorable outcomes, it’s a whole different story when that bravery is for a yet unwritten future.
Luckily for all of us, there are courageous leaders all across the country already writing that future — and a few weeks ago I got to spend a full weekend with many of them, recommitting to the notion of a more inclusive democracy.
At the Millennial Action Project’s sixth annual Future Summit, young state legislators from across the country set aside differences to listen, learn and laugh with one another. The summit focuses on collaborative policy solutions, but also on the collaborative policy makers who lead these solutions, and the ways in which they must navigate a toxic culture in order to build new governing coalitions. In conversations with many of them, I heard firsthand the burdens they carry in doing this work:
“I receive death threats daily.” “I get harassed online.” “I’m the first in my family to get a diploma, let alone be elected into public office.” These are just a sliver of the comments I’ve heard about what it’s like being a young person in elected office. The conditions are tough to say the least: These lawmakers often have little to no support, and they are frequently on the receiving end of hate and criticism.
Burnout is a common risk among these leaders — and who could be surprised? According to the National Conference of State Legislators, the average pay of a state legislator is $33,000, and most have no full-time staff. Many legislators must take on a second job or side gigs in order to make ends meet. One legislator shared at the Future Summit: “When I first ran for office, I knew we were going to have to pinch pennies. We’d essentially have to live off my wife’s salary.” For many young legislators, a reality of their public service is they are underpaid, understaffed and overworked.
Access to forums like the Future Summit, where young legislators can relate to one another around the shared challenges and joys of their roles as elected officials, can be deeply reenergizing. These moments help show these courageous leaders that they are not alone in doing the work of building a more functional democracy; events like the Future Summit also provide unique and meaningful opportunities for learning across lines of political, ideological and geographical difference. Take it from Arkansas state Rep. Aaron Pilkington, who remarked: “MAP has been a resource to me. ... The most important thing has been facilitating the conversation across party lines and having a space where people can be genuine and vulnerable.”
Kansas Rep. Jo Ella Hoya had a similar takeaway: “My sense of the room and the people at the Future Summit ... we all felt a calling and we wanted to serve. And seeing that genuine desire to make our states a better place, to make our country a better place, to make the world a better place is inspiring.”
The summit was a deeply needed recharging moment for these brave leaders. To be brave is not to be without fear or discomfort — it is to press forward in spite of it. By building a strong and diverse network of their peers, young elected leaders are developing the resiliency to buck the status quo, and lead our country into an era of democratic renewal.
The future is still uncertain. Luckily, the young legislators in MAP’s network are not discouraged by uncertainty. The yet unwritten future is their opportunity, their call-to-action and their collective mission. While the saying goes, “history favors the brave,” that doesn’t quite capture the full truth. From where I sit, the future favors the brave.




















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.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.