Molineaux is co-publisher of The Fulcrum and president/CEO of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
I believe in the sovereignty of each individual. Except when (fill in your favorite opinion).
This is how I’ve come to recognize my inner authoritarian. There’s a part of me that wishes people would do things my way, because I’m the obvious authority. That’s a laugh!
My inner authoritarian pops up when I feel unsafe by the choices others make for their own lives. I believe their actions might harm or negatively impact me — often accompanied by an authoritative opinion of mine they need to hear. I want them to make different choices or have different beliefs. Behind all those machinations, I want to feel safe with a sense of belonging. Of course, when others voice authoritative opinions about what I should do, I am irritated. And resistant. Don’t tell me what to do!
My internal struggle is one of humanity’s struggles. We see it on display today on ( name your issue). And so the never-ending tension between individual rights and community responsibility continues. Enshrined in the Pledge of Allegiance are these closing words: “With liberty and justice, for all.” This sentiment is representative of our tension between individuals (freedom) and community (justice). It is our ability to navigate between the individual and collective that keeps the authoritarians outside of our government. Authoritarians are rigid, dogmatic and thrive by creating an enemy of anyone or anything not aligned with “their way.”
Governing in our democratic republic requires negotiation, compromise, acknowledgement of other’s perspectives as valid and a willingness to be uncomfortable throughout the entire process. It requires an openness to being changed by another person, too.
And yet, when we see our priorities or our way of life threatened by calls to change the status quo, we turn to the authoritarian who promises to NOT compromise. Governing becomes difficult, and then impossible without compromise. We’ve lived this in real time. Governing takes a backseat to politicking for votes. And more and more of us are rewarding authoritarian behavior with our votes.
I see authoritarian tendencies gaining power amongst the individual rights advocates who refuse to accept any responsibility for the community. And I see these same tendencies amongst the community responsibility advocates when they demand compliance from all.
Think about your favorite person at 2 years old. At times, every 2-year-old demands their way, throws tantrums and exhibits rigidity. They are learning about themselves as an individual. That 2-year-old’s feeling of wanting “my way!” is screaming in the United States today.
Given the divergent ideas about how we proceed as a nation, we are all shouting at each other to wake up, get the accurate information and make the right choice. And then we’ll all feel safe. Except we won’t. Even if (or when) we comply, we will harbor resentment and other hard feelings.
Here are some real-life statements from my friends and family that concern me:
- Everyone should be forced to get vaccinated because I’m tired of having to stay home and they are only thinking of themselves.
- When I was in the military, they just told you to line up and they vaccinated you. You didn’t have a say in the matter. Why is there a discussion on this?
- I should have a choice over what happens to my body — whether it’s a vaccination or an abortion.
- I hope that they don’t decide to take my retirement and give it to other people.
- The riots were an assault on democracy. (Offered by two different people, one talking about the Black Lives Matters protests of 2020, the other about the Jan. 6, 2021, storming of the Capitol.)
- No compromise with fascists is possible. (Offered by a liberal friend, but similar in tone to a conservative friend calling the Democrats tyrants.)
I offer a path out of this mess.
Let’s agree to grow emotionally. To acknowledge the need for both individual rights and community responsibility. Let’s acknowledge there are many conflicting facts and even more conflicting opinions. Let’s act with kindness towards one another, recognizing that under most of our disputes is fear due to feeling a loss of control.
We are the authority in our own lives, but our control stops there. The rest of life is a series of relationships, compromise and choices. Here’s my list to stop my inner authoritarian in its tracks:
- Accept that I can only choose for myself.
- Other people can make choices for themselves and I don’t have to agree with them.
- Call a friend who listens well; share what deeply matters to you, and why.
- Return the favor, and listen to your friend as they talk about what matters to them. Don’t offer opinions or advice.
- Engage in conversations that result in building trust and a sense of belonging.
- Spend no more than 30 minutes on social media, daily.
- Vote for people who work well with others.
- Stop paying attention to the conflict entrepreneurs. They are not worth our time or energy.
Our government is a reflection of our collective will. Politics are a reflection of our collective behavior. If we want anti-authoritarian people to be elected, we have to recruit them, raise money and vote for them. We need to withhold what we control — our votes and our donations — to minimize the influence and power of authoritarians.
Together, we can ensure that our nation survives, thrives and represents us all. Individuals make up the community, after all. E pluribus unum.
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.