Democracy means more than just holding elections. And, “the people” are more than just voters. Yet, “we, the people,” have allowed our role as popular sovereigns to be reduced to benchwarmers.
Democracy is supposed to be a system through which “the people” exercise power. That power appears to have been lost. We have effectively made “the people” the equivalent of designated hitters -- we participate sparingly (every two years); give our best go at having an impact (casting votes in elections decided by other factors--namely, money); and, spend the rest of our time cheering for our respective teams.
We were never meant to ride the democratic pine. A glance at the state constitutions affirms the central role of “the people” in dictating how, when, and by whom political power is supposed to be exercised. State constitutions contain expansive language that empower “the people” to be far more than benchwarmers and spectators. These sources of people power, however, have been understudied and infrequently used by “the people” to assert more control over their democracy.
Twenty-eight state constitutions acknowledge the power of “the people” to alter or reform their government. From this sort of language, reformers passed the initiative and referendum -- giving voters a chance to directly influence policy. Fourteen state constitutions provide “the people” with a meaningful and regular opportunity to change the form of their government (rather than just the elected officials who make up that government) by automatically placing the question of holding a constitutional convention on the ballot every couple of years. Five state constitutions explicitly declare that governments derive their “just powers” only from the consent of the governed.
In addition to these sorts of provisions, all state constitutions evidence a “Democracy Principle,” as coined by law professors Jessiva Bulman-Pozen and Miriam Seifter in a recent Michigan Law Review piece. This principle can be summarized as a “commitment to popular sovereignty, majority rule, and political equality” within state constitutions. The Democracy Principle can and should serve as the basis for “the people” instituting novel democratic reforms to maintain and assert their power as sovereigns. The people of Ireland, Iceland, and France have revealed the power of one such reform -- citizen assemblies.
Generally, citizen assemblies feature the random selection of a representative sample of citizens to study, debate on, and propose major policy or constitutional changes. You can think of citizen assemblies as really big juries. Like juries, citizen assemblies work best when they include people from all parts of society. And, like juries, citizen assemblies receive guidance and information from stakeholders -- such as experts and, in some cases, representatives of partisan entities. Finally, both have clear tasks at hand -- analyzing questions of fact and evaluating policy recommendations, respectively.
These sorts of democratic institutions pull the people off the bench and insert them into the game in a meaningful way. In doing so, people-centric institutions heighten the legitimacy of our democratic system and uphold the role of the people as popular sovereigns. They also tap into the collective wisdom that rarely appears in state legislators and Congress.
Other countries have realized that the wisdom of the crowd can help resolve big political and constitutional questions. As I outlined in my article in the Rutgers University Law Review: Iceland empaneled citizen assemblies to assist with rewriting their constitution; Ireland randomly selected residents to guide the nation’s approach to reproductive health; and, France gathered citizens to inform the country’s climate change policies as well as its stance on euthanasia.
State constitutions, whether through explicit provisions or the Democracy Principle, grant “the people” a constitutional basis to form citizen assemblies. State legislators who recognize that “the people” deserve more opportunities than elections to express their will should appropriate funds to support citizen assemblies. And, “the people” of each state should advocate for the organization of citizen assemblies on major policy topics that the political parties have refused to address or have inadequately approached.
Democracy is not meant to be a spectator sport, but special interests and certain partisan interests would be just fine with certain people staying on the bench. If “the people” are going to exercise their powers, then we ought to create new democratic institutions that recognize that power and give the people a meaningful chance to wield it -- citizen assemblies are a great place to start.
Kevin Frazier will join the law school faculty at the University of South Dakota as a Visiting Professor starting Academic Year 2023.
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.