Gates and Gerzon are co-directors of Philanthropy Bridging Divides, a transpartisan conversation among America's philanthropic leaders.
After examining “ anti-bridgers ” and “ faux bridging ” in our previous two columns, it is clear that genuinely "bridging divides" is challenging, rare and difficult. It is hard work, requires skillful facilitation, an open mind and ongoing care. It means that one has to be open to listening to other perspectives and learning from those with other points of view. It means making oneself vulnerable, recognizing that even our strongest-held beliefs might need to be reexamined.
Earlier in our careers we were both warriors, sure of our points of view and eager to beat down the other side. But it has become clear to both of us that the victories earned via battle are truly pyrrhic. Little or no real progress endures. Our side wins today; their side wins tomorrow; and the country careens from left to right, slowly but surely losing its way.
In some ways, our current politics seem to epitomize that approach. Our parties take turns rallying their troops and vilifying the other side as voters consistently flip power from one side to the other in an effort to find some semblance of balance. But evidently that’s not working. (Two-thirds of Americans think the country is on the “wrong track” and only 20 percent think it’s going in the “right direction.”)
Democracy reform has fallen victim to this phenomena as much as any other issue. Each party proposes “reforms” that are basically designed to promote their cause and favor their side. The reform community, while sometimes mouthing the word “transpartisan,” is primarily led by those on the center-left, which means that those on the center-right often completely avoid the conversation about the state of democratic practice. And yet, as John Gardner, the founder of Common Cause and a mentor to Chris, famously said, “Someone needs to worry about what’s best for democracy no matter who is in charge.”
If we have any realistic hope of making our democracy more fair, more open, more inclusive and more relevant, we will need to find a way to build a bridge that can connect the two warring armies. We are not naive about how difficult it might be to do this, but we think it is imperative.
We believe there are three key actions that need to be taken to authentically move this work forward.
- To truly bridge ideological divides, the reform community needs to become more diverse in every way. Organizations need to ideologically diversify their senior staff and boards. It isn’t enough to announce: “We have a Republican on our board!” That person will invariably be, and be viewed as, a token. Democracy advocates must also find a way to become more racially and ethnically diverse. In addition to being a largely center-left movement, it is also largely a very white movement in a country that is becoming more diverse by the day. The field must find a way to look more like America in 2022, which is a diverse nation with a relatively evenly divided electorate.
- This work will require multiple platforms that are truly and authentically safe, civic spaces, places and settings where diverse perspectives can be safely shared, without fear of attack or contempt. Again, this is easier said than done, and will require mediation and facilitation of the highest degree. Stephen Heinz, president of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, often reminds us that cross-partisan bridging can only happen “at the speed of trust.” If we don’t know our counterpart on the other side, we can never build the bonds of trust that will allow us to find common ground.
- Finally, those who engage in this work need to recognize that “bridging divides” doesn’t always translate into finding common ground, or even agreeing. Sometimes it is enough to better understand a perspective that is different from your own, even if both sides hold their positions. What is likely to happen in these instances is that the “disagreement” remains just that. Two sides or two people who understand why the other holds the position they hold. In these instances there is less anger, less name calling and fewer misunderstandings. Sen. Bob Dole, who passed away earlier this month, was known as a tough warrior and a defender of his position, but he was also kind, human and funny. He could disagree with you and you could disagree with him but it never got angry and it never got personal. We could use a dose of that in our country today.
We have concluded that bridge-building is the way forward, not just because it is “civil” or “respectful,” but because it is practical. The real change-makers during the past century — Gandhi, Mandela, King — always incorporated dialogue into their strategies for change. Even from the Birmingham jail, Martin Luther King Jr. said the goal of the movement was “not victory, but reconciliation.”
So as we head into another election year, let us keep his wise counsel in mind. For those who are in the partisan game, whichever side you are on — red, blue or independent — you will no doubt want your candidate and your party to win. But at the same time you can work to better understand other perspectives and why someone might have a different point of view.
For those who have stepped out of the partisan arena, the coming year will be a critical time for building bridging infrastructure and transpartisan relationships. It will also be an important time for reminding citizens and voters alike that partisan, zero-sum politics is just one of our tools for solving problems and moving our nation forward.
For all of us who care about the health of our democracy, these can sometimes feel like perilous times. But if history is our guide, we will find a way forward that is more civil, less angry and more inclusive.
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.