Molineaux is president/CEO of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund, and Nevins is its co-founder and board chairman. They are co-publishers of The Fulcrum.
The last few years have been especially hard on our families. Most of us, in one way or another, have suffered loss — of faith, of friends, of family members. And these moments of loss are especially poignant during the holidays. While Hollywood has lifted our expectations of happy family gatherings, few of us experience the Hollywood version.
The holidays are normally frantic and stress-filled as we feel pressure to be more accommodating and offer more grace to family and friends. We need grace ourselves. We have extra obligations and extra worries, and many of us face the stress of travel.
And through it all we want to uphold our family traditions and recreate the way they used to be. But we are conflicted because the way it was is not the way it is today. Instead, we should let go. Let go of our expectations of each other, of recreating a happy past. Let's create a happy future by starting exactly where we are.
We are not the same people we were. Our families have changed. We've lost people and added others as we grow older and the next generation adds to the family tree. Some families have grown closer while others have grown apart. We are more strident in our tone with each other.
Many families feel the stress of economic change and uncertainty, of the pandemic, of divisive politics and the shifting culture. As the world seems to be changing at a faster and faster pace, many families in America are showing signs of stress. There is fear of splintering because of hurt feelings, harsh judgements and unyielding self-righteousness.
We offer this as prayer for us all.
Let us take a holiday from our troubles and just be family. For a few days this year, let us look for the best in each other. Let us love unconditionally because of our shared humanity. Let us be vulnerable and fragile as humans doing the best we can, during this extraordinary time of change. Amen.
We offer these thoughtful pointers for families from Living Room Conversations:
- Ask thoughtful questions, inspired by whatever honest curiosity you feel.
- Try to understand, not convince or persuade.
- Share personal stories and experiences, not data points.
- Use humor, if possible. Be willing to laugh at yourself when and where appropriate. Humor can lighten the mood and make the conversation enjoyable.
- Use first-person language. Own your feelings and express them as "I felt ______ (feeling) when you ______ (describe specific behavior and when it occurred)." For example, "I felt frustrated when you said I was unrealistic this morning."
- Explore and reflect rather than disagree directly. For example, starting sentences with "I am wondering ..." can be very productive if it is sincere.
The winter season in the northern hemisphere is filled with bright celebrations during short, dark days. The light in our loved one's eyes is especially needed this year — that bright and welcoming gaze. Let's welcome each other home for this holiday season.
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.