Johnson is a United Methodist pastor, the author of "Holding Up Your Corner: Talking About Race in Your Community" (Abingdon Press, 2017) and vice president of the Bridge Alliance, which houses The Fulcrum.
In reflection on a forthcoming manuscript, I revisited “From Generosity to Justice: A New Gospel of Wealth,” authored by Darren Walker. I felt affirmed to further the work of empathic transformation models for social and democratic uplift through emergent strategies. One such strategy in experimentation with community and private foundations is empathy-based philanthropy.
Empathy-based philanthropy focuses on understanding and connecting with the needs, emotions, and experiences of those supported. It prioritizes benevolence, active listening, and engaging with individuals or communities in need to create lasting change.
The strategic use of philanthropy as activism addresses systemic issues by fostering collaboration and empowering disadvantaged individuals. Philanthropy, if used effectively, can nurture civic engagement and communal responsibility, promoting inclusive democratic societies. Embracing empathy-driven philanthropy can lead to social cohesion, particularly benefiting vulnerable populations and BIPOC+ communities. By engaging with our local communities and exemplifying democratic values through compassion, generosity, and understanding, we can become agents of change toward collective uplift.
Generally, philanthropy, at its best, is a proactive exercise of giving in support and welfare to others, often grounded in moral or spiritual convictions. Activism conveys a genuinely selfless commitment to ensuring the happiness and well-being of others without any expectation of personal gain. Empathy-based philanthropy brings together the two and inherently aligns with many historic theological tenets and cultural principles that encourage acts of generosity and benevolence.
From a theological standpoint, empathy-based philanthropy transcends and represents a divine commission urging individuals to fulfill their societal roles as ethically responsible beings. Faithful adherence to divine directive leads many towards humility and forging meaningful relationships with their peers through mutual love, care, understanding, and empathic connections.
In his acclaimed work, "Democracy in America," renowned philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville offers astute observations on the role of philanthropy in molding society. He posited that philanthropy nurtures civic engagement by fostering a strong sense of communal responsibility among citizens. By advocating mutual assistance and cooperation among community members, Tocqueville emphasized the role of philanthropy in elevating us towards more inclusive democratic societies featuring equitable living conditions.
The amalgamation of Tocqueville's insights and the theories mentioned gives rise to the notion that philanthropy encompasses empathic expressions of civic and social responsibility, effectively shaping democratic uplift and equity. These ideas highlight the profound impact of community-focused nurturing and compassion in promoting social cohesion.
Moreover, these ideas hold particular significance for vulnerable populations and communities as active empathy and philanthropy contribute phenomenally towards enabling marginalized individuals and groups to access opportunities to thrive in an unequal world. Encouraging cross-cultural understanding and building bridges across traditionally divided communities can gradually dismantle long-standing biases and pave the way for empowered societies.
Social enterprises practicing this strategy demonstrate how harnessing empathy and philanthropic deeds are instrumental in transforming lives, knitting diverse communities together, and fostering mutual support structures. Such collective efforts can eventually establish an equitable society characterized by respect for diversity and a profound commitment to eradicating systemic injustices.
As we strive for a more equitable world, let us embrace the practice of empathy-based philanthropy by engaging attentively with our local communities while exemplifying the moral principles that underpin democratic values. By doing so, we can become agents of change who honor our interdependence by employing compassion, generosity, and understanding as powerful tools toward collective uplift.
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.