Guillermo is the CEO of Ignite, a political leadership program for young women.
Nancy Pelosi's decision to step down from House leadership brings up strong feelings. But it also has a similar impact on generations of women from across the political spectrum. I run an organization that engages young women to embrace political ambition and run for political office. Many of us saw Speaker Pelosi's achievement and realized we could go further than we realized. It is hard to overstate the impact that her career has had on our collective ambitions.
Pelosi has addressed hundreds of young women at Ignite events. She is always generous with her time. She takes a deep, personal interest in the future careers of young women she meets. Since she announced her decision not to run for a leadership position, I've heard from dozens of these young women across the political spectrum.
They have sent me photographs of them standing with Pelosi at Ignite events. They've told me, "This is the moment I realized I could run for office." Her interest in their ambitions is what convinced them that they, too, had the potential to lead. In the recent midterm elections, several Ignite alumni ran for office and won. Many of them told me that seeing Pelosi’ impact and leadership influenced their own journey in deciding to run.
This is 2022, but women still face tremendous barriers to pursuing a political career. Ten percent of senators are named Jon or John. Fewer than 30 percent of lawmakers are women. People ask men, meanwhile, far more often to run for office than they do women. And when they do ask women to run, it takes a lot more to persuade them than it does young men. Against that backdrop, Pelosi's career is all the more remarkable. She is still often pictured as the only woman in rooms full of men. She was elected the first female speaker of the House in 2007. At that point she became the highest-ranking woman in U.S. history. That achievement stood until the swearing-in of Vice President Kamala Harris in 2021.
Pelosi helped usher through reforms to our health care laws. She helped repeal military policies barring LGBTQ+ from serving. She supported same-sex marriage. She has been unafraid to stand up to China on its human rights record. These are generational issues. They have shifted global culture. They have enjoyed bipartisan support.
Several of Pelosi's staff cried as they applauded her when she walked from the floor. In politics, tears are a rarity. Such open displays of emotion aren't strategic. But the significance of Pelosi's decision cut through that. I also admired her choice to wear a white suit, speaking to the legacy of the women's suffrage movement. Let's not forget that women only got the vote in this country in 1919. That's just 21 years before Pelosi was born.
It means a lot, too, that Pelosi spoke about it being time for "a new generation to lead." The 2022 election was a “youth wave,” with near-historic numbers of young people turning out to vote. Young people turned out at their highest rates in states with razor-thin margins. Gen Z and millennials are on their way to becoming part of the largest voting bloc. They care about reproductive justice, mental health, student loans and more. Candidates who want to win need to speak to the issues young voters are passionate about. It is reassuring to see Pelosi recognizing that a new generation is ready to carry the torch.
We also should not dismiss that Pelosi's decision comes less than a month after a break-in at her home. The man has told investigators he intended to break her kneecaps. She has told the press that the attack – in which her husband was badly harmed – is a factor in her decision. We need to reflect on how our society has emboldened this kind of violence. We need to speak more about the barriers powerful women face and we need to pay vocal tribute to their courage in breaking through them.
In the meantime thank you, Nancy Pelosi, for the changes you have made possible.




















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.