There are some phrases that just feel good to say. "Collaborative problem solving," "hearing all sides," "working together," "finding common ground." What could possibly be controversial about any of that? Yet one such phrase "bridging divides," which seems at first glance like an obviously positive intention, has itself become controversial and sometimes even divisive.
So before you rush into the battlefield in between the armies of the "right" and "left," stop, look and listen. You will be far more effective if you know how complicated this terrain has become, and what may come your way if you say you want to be a bridger.
During the decades that the two of us have done this "bridging" work, around the country and around the world, we have learned how difficult and rewarding it can be. But in the divided time that we live in, we have observed how even bridging divides is being dragged into partisan warfare.
When we survey the terrain, we see at least four different attitudes towards bridging. Some are opposed to bridging on its merits because they believe that it involves forgiving wrong or offensive positions on "the other side." Others innocently believe that just bringing good intentions to a divisive conversation will be effective. Still others use bridging in a Machiavellian way to manipulate people by pretending to be open to hearing another perspective when, in truth, they are clearly not. And finally, there are folks who are thoughtfully and authentically working to bridge divides.
In the remainder of this column, we'll focus on the first group, those who are truly anti-bridging. In our subsequent columns, we will focus on the rest of the field.
The case made by anti-bridgers is clear. They feel that they are absolutely right and the other side is absolutely wrong, that they own "The Truth." They believe that they are on the side of good and their adversaries are on the side of evil. We have seen much evidence of this phenomena in recent years as more and more conservatives and progressives say they think the other side wants to hurt the country. It wasn't that long ago when we viewed our political opponents as honorable people with whom we genuinely disagreed. That attitude towards our adversaries created a different, and more civil, form of public debate and discourse. However, when you presume that your opponent's motives are malicious, or that their intentions are actually destructive, there is no longer any reason to treat them with civility or respect.
From this perspective, someone who engages with the other side — in other words, a bridger — is a traitor to their cause, or giving in to the enemy. So the reason anti-bridgers attend public meetings is not to hear the other side and consider their perspective, but to shame them and shout them down. They are experts at using social media to create echo chambers that amplify their perspective, even if it is held by a small number of people.
Based on our experience, some of these anti-bridgers are so consumed with their hatred for the other side that they are unwilling or unable to listen or hear or explore transpartisan solutions that might truly transcend the right-left divide.
For those of us who believe in this work, we know from experience that if we have the patience to listen to the deeper interests behind a rigid position, some progress is possible. But it is also best to let go of any notion of a quick win. Trying to bypass the militant defenses of the anti-bridging mindset, whether it is on the left or right, is rarely productive.
In summary, it is important to realize that they have reasons, either political or personal, for their high level of mistrust. All of our fellow citizens need to be heard and know they have been. We know that some of this may sound naive to those deep in their own army's trench. Even the major media on the left and right show nothing but disdain for those who think that more common ground is possible. That's why this work is so hard, but also why it is so important. If we take the time and care to understand other perspectives and build trust, we may be surprised by what we can do together.
Until our next column, we hope our thoughts trigger some of your own. Please email us with your reactions, questions or points of view at beyondrightandleft@fulcrum.us. We would love to hear from you.
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.