Less than six months after winning seats in Congress partly on pledges to stay clear of corporate campaign cash, many new members of the House Democratic majority are violating the spirit if not the letter of those promises.
The swift movement away from their vows, and toward the special interests they previously spurned, is as clear a reminder as any of this truism of today's threatened democracy: The relentless drive for donations often plows through a politician's promises, including to finance their ambitions without the traditional reliance on the quid-pro-quo-implied generosity of big business.
At least 43 House Democrats, nearly one in five members of the caucus, have pledged not to accept donations from corporate political action committees, according to End Citizens United PAC, which seeks to reverse the Supreme Court's decision that largely deregulated the world of federal campaign finance. So have nine Democratic senators, several of them presidential candidates.
But many of those lawmakers have decided they can rationalize a decision to forswear the corporate PAC money while at the same time seeking contributions from the lobbyists advocating for those companies' interests.
Politico details today a series of fundraisers hosted for House newcomers by the K Street denizens who press the cases for such corporate behemoths as AT&T, Comcast, Microsoft, Pfizer, Verizon, Wells Fargo, Boeing, Citigroup, Johnson & Johnson, Nike and United Airlines. Many of the lawmakers took seats away from Republicans last fall in districts sure to be highly competitive again next year.
And they are being joined by a growing roster who have promised not to take corporate PAC money as they seek Democratic nominations for Congress in 2020, but are happily accepting checks from business lobbyists.
"This campaign is about the people of Arizona, not corporate PACs and the mess they've created in Washington," Mark Kelly, the former astronaut challenging GOP Sen. Martha McSally, says on his website. But, according to an invitation obtained by The Intercept, he was feted at a fundraiser last month at Capitol Counsel, which represents ExxonMobil, JPMorgan Chase and Lockheed Martin.
Some Democratic lobbyists are trying to persuade candidates and members who haven't yet sworn off corporate PAC money not to do so. "We are trying to educate members about the importance of employee-funded PACs to the campaign finance system," National Association of Business PACs President Catherine McDaniel, who leads a trade group for corporate PACs, told Politico.
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.