Gates and Gerzon are co-directors of Philanthropy Bridging Divides, a transpartisan conversation among America's philanthropic leaders.
In last month's column we looked closely at our fellow citizens who do not want to bridge divides. There are clearly those who disagree with the very concept of bridging and want to fight a war to win.
But there is another group that is harder to recognize. They are the "false bridgers" or "manipulative bridgers." Whether they are conservatives reaching out to progressives or, more commonly, progressives reaching out to conservatives, their intentions are to use the concept of bridging to advance their cause, not to find shared ground.
- They seek to convene an "open dialogue" and "welcome multiple points of view."
- They promise that no one will be "put in a box" or be "labeled."
- They often encourage participants to speak "from the heart" and "listen to understand."
- They claim it is not about who is "right" but about "building trust."
- They pledge fairness and "equal time," and ensure that every voice will be heard.
Based on this well-crafted, time-tested, Machiavellian language, these so-called "bridgers" use the language of listening and inclusion to in essence build a trap for their opponents.
In most cases these so-called bridging events fail, as they should. They also serve to poison the well for those who are sincere about wanting to bridge divides and hear other perspectives. We have both witnessed this professionally. People are invited into a bridging conversation that turns out to be nothing of the sort. It makes it that much harder when an authentic bridger makes a subsequent overture.
In retrospect, these efforts often do not turn out to have been on a level playing field. Yes, the conveners have used the lexicon of negotiation and problem-solving. Yes, the hosts have worked hard to get a few "diverse voices" in the room. But all too often the "outsiders" feel not only outnumbered but ultimately unheard. The more eloquently they express their "minority" perspective, the quicker the barrage of rebuttals begins. They leave these faux bridging experiences feeling disillusioned and sometimes even used.
It is tempting but wrong to excuse these failed efforts because their architects meant well and tried hard. In our experiences most of these failed efforts were designed to persuade and convert and not find shared ground. Of course both of us applaud all well-intentioned efforts, we recognize how challenging it is to bridge across the widening chasm of polarization in America today. But we also have to be honest: False bridges cause damage.
A covert desire to persuade the "other side" using the language of bridging is dangerous. Such efforts raise hopes and then dash them. They promise progress but do not deliver. They make people skeptical about words like "bridge" or "dialogue" or "partnership." They make it harder for anyone who later tries to build a real bridge to get support.
We encourage anyone who intends to be a catalyst for a "bridging" event or process to first step back and be honest about their intentions. If your desire is to "win," then the conversation is not likely a bridging one. If your heart and mind are open to learning and hearing other perspectives, then your desire to bridge is authentic. Our point is not that all conversations need to be about bridging but rather that it is critical people be clear and transparent about their intentions.
Please know that the intent of this column is not to be a warning sign that reads "Keep Out!" but rather one that says "Be Intentional!" We absolutely need more skillful, thoughtful peacemakers to step into the no man's land between the partisan armies of Left and Right and seek common ground. But we want those who meet this challenge to be safe, and to succeed — not become part of the problem that we are setting out to solve.
In our next column, we will share in more detail what we have learned about real bridging and why it matters now, more than ever.
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.