Two Supreme Court justices who often disagree in their decisions at work came together to discuss their shared passions for civic education and civic duty.
Supreme Court Justices Sonia Sotomayor and Amy Coney Barrett spoke with Yale law professor Akhil Reed Amar during a seminar hosted by The Ronald Reagan Institute. They talked about everything from family and ethics to bridging polarization in America and within the Supreme Court. The conversation gave insights into what these two justices think about education and the future of the nation.
During the hour, the pair highlighted a number of commonalities — specifically their shared passions for civic education for American youth and civic duty for citizens. Both Sotomayor and Coney Barrett attributed their professional successes to their academic paths.
They emphasized the importance of civic education, its ability to teach youth how to become a “good citizen” and its key role in upholding America’s democracy.
“Most people think about civics like learning about the government, how it functions and what each branch of the government does,” said Sotomayor. “When I think about civics, it's not just ‘how does the government work’ but ‘how does our society work?’”
When asked how she models good citizenship for young people, Sotomayor cited not just her time spent at seminars and responding to letters, but her ability to stay grounded and motivated to try and help others.
“I truly believe that the greatest model of citizenship is not the work you do for pay, but it's the work that you elect to do for free,” she remarked. She believes people can be themselves “as long as [they’re] finding ways to better the world.”
Coney Barrett reflected on encouraging her own children to participate in community service and voting.
“Educating our young people to be good citizens is crucial,” she said. “And part of being a good citizen is learning to care for the needs of others.”
She credited civic education in giving youth the ability to learn about the government and providing a sense of civic duty — a key component of getting individuals to vote and support democracy.
The justices also reflected on the Court’s unique ability to see past individuals’ political viewpoints and show appreciation for the person they know their colleague to be. Both justices divulged the regard and admiration they hold for one another, revealing that all the justices are close friends.
Sotomayor acknowledged the ideological differences between her and Coney Barrett; however, she revealed that “disagreements on political issues and important constitutional issues doesn’t diminish the value of who Justice Amy Coney Barrett is,” and Sotomayor hardly ever shys away from having difficult conversations with the other justices.
Coney Barrett imparted strong advice on combating polarization: “I think finding ways to see people for who they are and not just for the opinions they hold helps bridge gaps and bridge differences.”




















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.