In this episode of the Politics in Question podcast, the team discusses thermostatic politics to explain what it means and how it works.
Podcast: What is thermostatic politics?
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U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) speaks during a Senate Appropriations Committee hearing on the FY2027 budget request in the Dirksen Senate Office Building on Capitol Hill on May 12, 2026 in Washington, DC.
(Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)
A Sudden Vacuum: Unpacking Lindsey Graham’s Legacy and Implications for the GOP’s Senate Agenda
Aug 06, 2026
On July 11, 2026, South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham unexpectedly passed away at age 71. The likely cause of death was a tear in the main vessel that carries blood out of the heart, otherwise known as aortic dissection. According to a medical examiner’s preliminary report, the aortic dissection itself was due to a “brief and sudden illness” known as arteriosclerotic cardiovascular disease, which hardened Graham’s arteries.
Graham’s death prompted widespread, bipartisan tributes from across the political spectrum. President Trump ordered all flags to be flown at half-mast in the senator’s honor, later exclaiming that “Lindsey will be greatly missed!!!” on social media. On the global stage, key international allies mourned the loss of a fierce advocate for overseas alliances, with tributes coming from Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz.
The senator was a larger-than-life figure, a champion of proactive American foreign policy who crossed bipartisan and party divides, serving as an instrumental congressional figure for the Republican Party for decades. His death comes at an unfavorable time for the Republican Party, otherwise known as the GOP, as midterm election campaigns ramp up and key legislation advances through Congress.
What Does This Vacancy Mean for the Republican Party?
One of the longest-tenured lawmakers on Capitol Hill, Graham first served as a member of the House of Representatives from 1995 to 2003, and then as a senator from 2003 to the present day. By 2026, the South Carolina Republican was an integral part of the Republican Party, chairing the Budget Committee, the congressional group that drafts the United States’ annual $7.4 trillion budget. Over time, he also developed into a prominent foreign policy figure, becoming a key advocate for the defense of the free world, global leadership, and alliance building.
Beyond leaving behind an extensive congressional and international legacy, the late senator was also a widely recognized figure in U.S. politics. Within his party’s ranks, he was known as a staunch Trump ally while simultaneously retaining elements of the Reagan-era old guard Republicans due to his role as a foreign policy tsar. This unique position allowed Graham to serve as a unifying force within the party, eventually earning the moniker the “bridge”.
This reputation for dealmaking also extended across party boundaries. In 2009, Graham teamed up with Democratic Senator John Kerry to push through climate legislation. In 2012, Graham worked with Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer to orchestrate a bipartisan immigration reform bill. More recently, the senator was working across the political spectrum to pass additional sanctions on Russia. In an era of political polarization and congressional deadlock, such a bipartisan figure is rare, and his absence will be sorely felt.
How Lindsey Graham’s Passing Disrupts the Senate GOP Agenda
Senator Graham’s passing has significant effects on both the GOP’s legislative agenda and the upcoming 2026 midterms. Most pressing is the upcoming September 30 deadline to fund the government, a legislative issue that Graham retained heavy influence over through his positions on the Senate Budget Committee and Appropriations Committee. Due to his untimely death and Senator Mitch McConnell’s indefinite hospitalization, the GOP is down to a 14-13 minority in the Appropriations Committee. The powerful Appropriations Committee is responsible for the allocation of federal government funds, either through authorizing bills from other Congressional committees or through writing annual appropriation bills.
The vacated seat creates problems for the broader battle for Senate control as well. Without McConnell and Graham, the Republican Party’s majority goes down from 53-47 to 51-47, leaving a slim margin of error for defections. At a time when the GOP is advancing an expansive legislative agenda, including the SAVE American Act, the Birthright Citizenship Act, regular appropriations bills, an $87.6 billion emergency fund for the 2026 Iran War, and an additional $350 billion for Pentagon funding, these absences are troubling. South Carolina Governor Henry McMaster recently appointed Lindsey Graham’s sister, Darline Graham Nordone, as a temporary replacement. Yet, while the transition takes place, Senate politics remain significantly altered.
While Nordone is the temporary replacement, Republicans must now find a permanent successor. Graham defeated South Carolina primary challengers for his Senate seat for the upcoming 2026 midterm elections in June. His death now forces the GOP to hold special primaries by August 11 to find a candidate by election day, November 3. In an era where election campaigns ramp up months in advance, the lack of time combined with a primary race has thrown a previously secure seat into chaos. Despite the uncertainty, the chances of Democratic candidate Annie Andrews flipping the seat remain slim, given that South Carolina is a deeply red state that has not elected a Democrat to the Senate since 1998. Only time will tell who steps forward to fill the significant gap Graham leaves behind in a deeply divided Congress.
Jaden Macomber is an undergraduate student at UCLA, where he is earning his B.A. in political science alongside a minor.
A Sudden Vacuum: Unpacking Lindsey Graham’s Legacy and Implications for the GOP’s Senate Agenda, a nonpartisan policy brief, written by an ACE fellow, is republished by The Fulcrum as part of our partnership with the Alliance for Civic Engagement and our NextGen initiative — elevating student voices, strengthening civic education, and helping readers better understand democracy and public policy.
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How can the Democratic Party regain public trust? Ronald Hirsch argues for a renewed mission centered on equality, opportunity, fiscal responsibility, and American democracy.
Klaus Vedfelt / Getty Images
Can the Democratic Party Still Lead?
Aug 05, 2026
During the 20th century and for the first part of the 21st, the Democratic Party certainly led the nation in advancing the cause of equality and the ability of people to pursue their right to life, liberty, and happiness. At the same time, they led the nation by increasing its military might and advancing its power around the world to protect the human rights of others.
The American worker would likely still be toiling for low wages in industrial hell-holes were it not for the laws that Democratic-led Congresses passed to increase the rights of workers vis-a-vis employers and the rights of unions. Black individuals and other people of color would still be burdened by widespread discrimination—official and otherwise—were it not for the laws that Democratic-led Congresses passed to protect their rights as American citizens. This is not to say that we have achieved equality, but we have made much progress.
Democrats have also been firm supporters of this nation's military—not giving the defense establishment everything it wanted, but ensuring a strong military that was the best in the world. And it was Democratic Presidents and Congresses that led our entry into WWI to ensure the defeat of Germany and its allies and the freedom of Europe and much of the world. Although misguided, our entry into the Vietnam War was also in this tradition.
But Democrats seem to have lost their oomph. Ever since the end of the Obama Presidency and the rise of Donald Trump, the Democratic Party has lost its bearing. Perhaps the "Party" only ever had an amorphous bearing, and it was the leaders of the Party, the Presidents or others, who harnessed that bearing and energy and fashioned its greatness and contribution.
Since Obama, no one has risen who had the greatness in him or her to lead the Party to make America even greater than it was and its people more equal and prosperous than before. But America and Democrats cannot sit and wait for such a person to rise again from the midst of the Party.
The Party and its leaders must fashion a structure that enables them to lead even when out of power and lacking the galvanizing presence of a President. Walter Mondale said, after the defeat of John Kerry in 2004, that “we really need to work on the question of what we are for. Unless we have a vision and the arguments to match, I don’t think we’re going to truly connect with the American people.“ And this was after a presidential election—the quadrennial defining moment for the Party!
Prior to that election, I wrote the book, We Still Hold These Truths: An American Manifesto, to answer the question—what should the Party stand for—both for the Party and the American people. I used the famous words of the Declaration of Independence as a touchstone to examine all aspects of government policy and propose the direction government policy should take.
I also wrote a mission statement for the Party based on the Declaration:
“To build a country of greater opportunity where:
- each and every American has a real chance to experience the promises made in the Declaration of Independence: 'that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness' ;
- government meets its responsibility as set forth in the Declaration—‘to secure these rights’; and
- all citizens have a shared responsibility to support the government’s efforts to secure these rights and promote the public good, each according to his ability.”
These words from the Declaration of Independence are the moral philosophy, the heart, the soul of American democracy. This is, or at least until recently was, America’s common faith. Democrats must restore that faith. To further that promise of equality and opportunity with fiscal responsibility should be the clear mission of the Democratic Party.
This should be the litmus test. All the policies of the Party should flow from this mission statement, and any proposed policy that does not further the mission statement should be dropped. Government should support industry and commerce insofar as they support this mission. But if industry interests do not further this mission, if they seek power and riches for themselves without benefit to the people, the Party should not support those interests.
Too often, when proposing measures to protect the people in the areas of finance and industry regulation, Democrats have held back somewhat because of the interests of industry. And in some areas, like free trade agreements, they have capitulated to the interests of industry in spite of the valid objections of unions. And so the American worker and public have suffered, destroying their faith in the Party.
All American men, women, and children are owed the support of government policies in education, health care, civil rights, security, the economy, the environment, and taxation that provide a foundation of equal opportunity for all to pursue their right to life, liberty, and happiness. That is the American social contract.
But it is not just in the development of policies that the Party must improve. It is in communicating those policies in ways that are effective. They must also speak to the American people about the state of our country on a regular, probably weekly, basis—creating a Democratic presence. See my articles, "Where is the Democratic Party's Clarion Call?" and "The Democratic Party - Missing in Action."
The Party must become once again a real factor in the lives of the people; no more an irrelevant voice in far-away Washington.
Ronald L. Hirsch is a teacher, legal aid lawyer, survey researcher, nonprofit executive, consultant, composer, author, and volunteer. He is a graduate of Brown University and the University of Chicago Law School and the author of We Still Hold These Truths. Read more of his writing at www.PreservingAmericanValues.com
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Josh Hokit on April 11, 2026 in Miami, Florida.
(Photo by Carmen Mandato/Getty Images)
As Cruelty Normalizes, America’s Authoritarian Drift Deepens
Jul 27, 2026
It happened in a moment so small that many viewers may have missed it. After a UFC fight, athlete Josh Hokit used his victory speech not to celebrate his win but to demean former First Lady Michelle Obama, repeating a long‑running racist and sexist trope by calling her a man. Standing beside him, the President of the United States did not correct him. He did not defend a woman who served this country with dignity. He did not reject the bigotry embedded in the remark. Instead, he offered a smirk — a half‑smile of approval that traveled farther than any microphone could carry.
That smirk mattered. It was a signal. And millions recognized it for exactly what it was.
This is how authoritarian drift works in modern democracies. Not always through shouted commands or sweeping decrees, but through the quiet permission of a leader who rewards cruelty and refuses to challenge it. A leader who lets others cross the line, then communicates approval through body language, silence, or a knowing grin.
And this moment did not stand alone. In November 2025, aboard Air Force One, the president told Bloomberg White House correspondent Catherine Lucey to “Quiet, piggy” when she asked about the Epstein files — a remark captured on video and widely reported. It was not the first time he had singled out a woman reporter for humiliation, nor the last. Outlets such as NPR and The Independent have documented that when challenged by women, especially on topics he wants to avoid, his attacks become more personal, targeting appearance, demeanor, or intelligence. The pattern is consistent across press briefings, Air Force One gaggles, and impromptu exchanges.
What happened at the UFC event was not random. Michelle Obama represents Black excellence, female leadership, education, competence, and dignity. She is a counter‑model to the president’s style of leadership and remains one of the most admired public figures in the country. For people who see politics as a zero‑sum identity battle, she is not just a former First Lady — she is a symbol of everything they believe he is fighting against. When authoritarian‑leaning leaders attack someone repeatedly, supporters often adopt the same target as a way to show loyalty. The fighter may well have believed he was pleasing the president. That is a common dynamic in leader–follower psychology.
And the specific insult he used has a long, ugly history. Calling Black women “men” is a racist, misogynistic trope used to strip femininity, deny humanity, undermine dignity, and signal dominance. It has been used against Serena Williams, Michelle Obama, and other prominent Black women. The fighter didn’t invent it. He pulled it from a well‑worn script. And the president’s silence — his smirk — reinforced that script. The remark was unacceptable, but Americans must have the courage to convey that message to him.
What troubles me most is not only the president’s behavior, but the reaction it receives. At rallies and public events, I have watched women cheer as he demeans other women. Some interpret his aggression as strength. Others separate the behavior from the politics, insisting they dislike the insults but approve of the policies. Still others internalize the attacks as deserved, believing he only targets people who “go after him.” And in large crowds, cruelty becomes contagious; people cheer because the crowd cheers. When supporters excuse, minimize, rationalize, or applaud cruelty — whether by calling it strength, dismissing it as irrelevant, blaming the targets, or simply following the emotional current — they are not just responding to the drift. They are normalizing it.
And here is the contradiction that should stop us cold: parents teach their children not to call their siblings names. Teachers intervene when students demean one another. Principals enforce consequences for verbal abuse. School districts write policies defining harassment, intimidation, and bullying. State and federal civil rights laws require schools to maintain environments free from discrimination and verbal harassment, especially when it targets protected classes. The U.S. Department of Education explicitly warns against harassment, bullying, and retaliation.
Yet on the world’s largest stage, the president models the very behavior schools are legally required to prevent.
The unstated messages we are sending to children are devastating. When the president mocks women, demeans reporters, or smirks at bigotry while adults cheer, children learn that cruelty is leadership, humiliation is entertainment, and power excuses behavior that would get any student suspended. They see a country that tells them not to bully while its highest officeholder models bullying on a global stage. They see schools enforcing anti‑harassment laws while adults excuse the same behavior in politics. And they learn the most dangerous lesson of all: that rules are for the powerless, not the powerful. That is how democratic norms erode — not only through what leaders say, but through what children come to believe is acceptable.
This cultural shift is not happening in a vacuum. As one analysis put it, “hate used to hide in private. Now it shows up first.” Social media rewards the most extreme expressions of contempt with attention and validation, making cruelty feel normal, even desirable. Stress, inequality, and “us vs. them” thinking lower empathy thresholds, making cruelty easier to commit. When marginalized groups are treated as disposable or “waste products” of society, cruelty becomes a tool of exclusion and control. Repeated exposure without moral or legal consequences desensitizes the public. And when political leaders use cruelty as a political tool, the culture adjusts to it.
Stopping this cultural slide will not be easy because the cruelty is coming from the top and performed on a public stage. But the fact that it is difficult does not mean it is impossible. Congress has a role to play by enforcing norms of conduct and refusing to reward leaders who traffic in humiliation. Civic leaders — from mayors to school board members to faith leaders — can model the dignity and restraint that national politics has abandoned. Parents can remind children that name‑calling is wrong, no matter who does it, and that power does not excuse cruelty. Schools can continue enforcing the anti‑harassment policies that federal civil rights laws require, even when national figures violate the very standards the U.S. Department of Education promotes. And citizens can stop accepting, excusing, or normalizing behavior they would never tolerate from a child, a coworker, or a neighbor.
Experts who study political communication emphasize that reducing name‑calling requires a combination of personal accountability, institutional discipline, and cultural change. They warn that insults erode trust, deepen polarization, and make leaders appear unworthy of the offices they hold. They recommend shifting political debate back to issues rather than labels, setting norms for respectful discourse, and teaching the public — especially young people — to recognize the harm that contempt‑based politics inflicts on democracy. None of these steps alone will solve the problem. But together, they form a path back toward a political culture that values truth over spectacle and dignity over derision.
Ultimately, we know what is right and what is wrong. We teach it to children every day. The question is whether we will demand the same from the adults who lead us. The work of repairing our political culture begins with refusing to normalize what we know is harmful — and insisting that our leaders meet the same standards we expect of our children.
I imagine an America where cruelty is no longer a political language, where dignity is not optional, and where children grow up seeing leaders who reflect the values we teach them. I imagine an America without authoritarian drift — and I believe we can still reclaim it.
Carolyn Goode is a retired educational leader and former principal who has served as a teacher specialist, human relations coordinator, and adjunct instructor at the university and community college levels. She writes about democracy, political culture, and civic responsibility, with a focus on how public behavior shapes what children learn about leadership.
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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.