Chaleff is a speaker, innovative thinker and the author of “ To Stop a Tyrant: The Power of Political Followers to Make or Brake a Toxic Leader. ” This is the second entry in a series on political followership.
In my previous op-ed for The Fulcrum, I examined how political followers create their leaders, just as much as leaders create their followers. I observed that while our culture may still romanticize leaders, the real work of governing is done by skilled and courageous followers. Let’s explore this further, this time using a dance floor analogy.
In straight culture, a man usually leads a woman in ballroom dancing. Many men share my experience: When I have tried my hand (or foot) at dancing — whether it’s the Texas two-step or the Argentine tango — my novice partner would endure my clunky moves as I “lead” her in the most basic steps, hopefully without bruising her or other couples, or ricocheting off a wall. Not a pretty sight.
In the same lesson, when a more advanced dancer was my partner and took the follower role, I suddenly looked like a halfway competent lead. I was still formally doing the lead steps, but she was subtly guiding me into the music, the tempo, the weight shifts onto the correct foot, while keeping us to the spatial lanes and away from the walls. The follower had made the leader look good!
Anyone who has been involved in politics or governance knows this is an apt metaphor for how followers make political leaders look good.
I’ve been writing and teaching about followership for several decades and while my work has found its way around the world, only now am I applying it directly to politics. Particularly when examining politics at a national level, it quickly became clear that “follower” behavior needs to be broken down by access to the leader. This has resulted in a new way of visualizing political followership.

Confidants clearly have the most direct access. In the case of the White House, they have “walk in” privileges when they need the ear of the president. Oftentimes it is a close family member who can be the last voice the president hears before making a decision, whether that’s Jill Biden or Donald Trump Jr.
Elites can relatively easily get the attention of the leader. They have something the leader wants — a large following, deep pockets for campaign contributions, the power to move or block important legislation, media platforms. Elon Musk, Peter Theil, Nancy Pelosi, James Clyburn and Taylor Swift all fit into this category.
No head of government achieves objectives without working through the bureaucrats who play a significant role in transforming goals, policy and legislation into actionable and enforced programs. But large agencies can develop a mind of their own. They can “slow walk” or procedurally hamper both the bad ideas of a would-be-tyrant and the good ideas of a would-be reformer, without being blatantly non-compliant.
Activists are the spark that gets the broader public moving in favor of (or against) candidates and their political agendas. Their power to influence is many times greater than that of an average citizen. Whether this is Dan Schultz advocating for MAGA Republicans to fill the seats of precinct captains, or Stacey Abrams (before she became a nationally known figure) mobilizing minority voters in Georgia, they have an impact on policy formulation that rivals those of elites.
Those who make up the populace are the citizens and non-citizens alike who are affected by the actions of government and fill the stadiums and arenas to support the political leaders whom they feel most represent their views and interests. They may never personally meet the candidate or fully examine their platforms, yet make the ultimate difference in elevating their preferred candidate through their support.
In each entry in my series, I will take a dive into the vulnerability and power of each type of follower, offering a taste of what I explore in depth in my new book, “ To Stop a Tyrant.” Like couples on the dance floor, competent or courageous followers will make a good leader look better than they are. Conversely, bad or colluding followers will make a bad leader worse, to all of our detriment.
Begin paying attention to which circle of followers you fall into, in relation to different political leaders (local, state, national), and how you might be making them look better than they really are. Then consider what a courageous follower would do.




















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.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.