Confusion is now a political strategy in America — and it is eroding our democracy in plain sight. Confusion is not a byproduct of our politics; it is being used as a weapon. When citizens cannot tell what is real, what is legal, or what is true, democratic norms become easier to break and harder to defend. A fog of uncertainty has settled over the country, quietly weakening the foundations of our democracy. Millions of Americans—across political identities—are experiencing uncertainty, frustration, and searching for clarity. They see institutions weakening, norms collapsing, and longstanding checks and balances eroding. Beneath the noise is a simple, urgent question: What is happening to our democracy?
For years, I believed that leaders in Congress, the Supreme Court, and the White House simply lacked the character, courage, and moral leadership to use their power responsibly. But after watching patterns emerge more sharply, I now believe something deeper is at work. Many analysts have pointed to the strategic blueprint outlined in Project 2025 Project 2025, and whether one agrees or not, millions of Americans sense that the dismantling of democratic norms is not accidental—it is intentional.
Some people describe the President as “ignorant,” a word they reach for out of frustration. But in my view, ignorance is not the issue. What looks like confusion or impulsiveness is often a strategy—one refined over decades. Public reporting has documented patterns of manipulating systems, refusing to pay vendors, challenging courts, and framing himself as a perpetual victim. These behaviors didn’t begin in the Oval Office; they simply gained a larger stage there.
I have come to believe that confusion is part of the plan. When leaders contradict themselves, rewrite history, rename institutions, or attack their predecessors, the public becomes disoriented. Confusion weakens vigilance. It makes people doubt their own understanding. And when citizens are overwhelmed, those in power face fewer obstacles to manipulating institutions, bending norms, and reshaping democracy to serve themselves rather than the nation.
The danger of a leader who rewrites the nation in this way is not limited to the moment. When a President renames institutions, erases traditions, mocks predecessors, or dismisses constitutional obligations, he is not just breaking norms—he is reshaping what future leaders may feel entitled to do. Democracies erode slowly, through repeated violations that become normalized.
People across the country are trying to make sense of what is happening. Yet we are watching other forms of democratic distortion take root—extreme gerrymandering that dilutes voters' will (Gerrymandering Explained | Brennan Center for Justice), and public attacks on the press that intimidate journalists and undermine the First Amendment’s core purpose: to ensure that citizens can question power without fear.
Commentators who repeat invented names — calling it the “Department of War” or the “Gulf of America” — must stop. When the media echoes language that has no legal basis, it risks normalizing it. Reporters have a responsibility to use the lawful, accurate names of our institutions, not the versions a president creates for political effect. Just because he says it does not make it legal.
Another part of this pattern is the effort to reshape government itself. We have watched a steady push to install people who will support the President’s goals, while removing or sidelining those whose job is to enforce transparency, ethics, or accountability. Inspectors general, career civil servants, and independent watchdogs exist to protect the public interest—not the interests of any one leader. When these positions are weakened or replaced with loyalists, the checks that safeguard our democracy begin to crumble.
We have also watched the President exert extraordinary influence over Congress even when he was not in office, shaping votes, intimidating dissent, and ensuring that lawmakers aligned with his goals. Now he openly signals his desire for a third term, and public reporting shows that several billionaires appear to be supporting efforts that could help consolidate his power (OpenSecrets. A leader who can influence Congress, weaken oversight, and command vast financial support can operate without meaningful restraint.
The Kennedy Center is not just another building in Washington. It was created by Congress in 1958 as the National Cultural Center, and in 1964—after President John F. Kennedy’s assassination—Congress amended the law to rename it the “John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts” (Public Law 88‑260). Because its name is established in law, no president has the authority to change it. Only Congress can do that. So, when a president claims to rename the Kennedy Center, alters signage, or encourages others to refer to it differently, he is not exercising legal power—he is attempting to rewrite history through spectacle and intimidation.
Even if his name is added to buildings or institutions, millions of Americans will not recognize it. The Kennedy Center will always be the Kennedy Center — a national memorial established by Congress, rooted in history, and tied to President Kennedy’s legacy. We will not normalize attempts to rewrite our cultural identity. We say the Gulf of Mexico, not the “Gulf of America.” We say the Department of Defense, not the “Defense of War.” A democracy survives when its people refuse to surrender language, history, or truth to political theater.
One of the clearest examples of this pattern came during a televised interview in May 2025. When the President was asked whether he must uphold the Constitution—the very document he twice swore to protect—he replied, “I don’t know.” That answer was not merely evasive; it was alarming. How can any leader raise their hand on Inauguration Day, swear an oath before the nation, and then claim uncertainty about whether that oath applies? For me, this was not ignorance. It was a performance of ignorance—a strategy that creates confusion, lowers expectations, and excuses behavior that would be unacceptable from any other public servant.
We are living through a moment when history, culture, and democratic traditions are being reshaped before our eyes. Citizens are not wrong to feel unsettled. They are not wrong to ask questions. And they are certainly not wrong to demand accountability from those who wield power in their name.
We must demand normalcy again. Not the normalcy of complacency, but the normalcy of functioning institutions, ethical leadership, and respect for the Constitution. Congress must act—not observe. Congress must restore what has been damaged, protect the legal names of institutions, rebuild the West Wing, and reassert its constitutional authority as a check on executive power. Congress must strengthen ethics laws, protect inspectors general, enforce transparency, and ensure that no president—current or future—can rewrite history, rename institutions, or operate outside the law.
The media must rise above attacks and intimidation. They must report what a president says, but they must not legitimize what is unlawful or invented. They must use the legal names of institutions, correct misinformation in real time, and refuse to normalize language that confuses or misleads the public.
Citizens must insist on accountability. They cannot pass laws, but they can force lawmakers to act. They must demand restoration of damaged institutions, support independent journalism, vote, speak out, and protect historical truth.
These solutions are not theoretical—they are doable. Congress already has the authority to pass laws and enforce oversight. Media outlets already have the tools to correct misinformation and maintain editorial independence. Citizens already have the power to vote, organize, pressure representatives, and shape public opinion. Democracy has been repaired before—after Watergate, after McCarthyism, after eras of corruption and overreach. It can be repaired again.
This is not a partisan concern. Millions of Americans in red, blue, and purple states are unsettled by what they are witnessing. Republicans, Democrats, and Independents — including some current and retired leaders in Washington — have expressed alarm at the erosion of norms, the rewriting of institutions, and the growing sense that our democratic foundations are shifting beneath us. The uncertainty is national, not ideological, and the responsibility to confront it belongs to all of us.
Confusion may be the strategy, but clarity is still our power — and democracy holds only if citizens refuse to let uncertainty become the new normal or allow its erosion to continue in plain sight.
Carolyn Goode is a retired educational leader who writes about ethical leadership, institutional accountability, and the concerns many Americans are expressing about the direction of the country.




















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.