Frazier is an assistant professor at the Crump College of Law at St. Thomas University. He previously clerked for the Montana Supreme Court.
The slow and steady seep of artificial intelligence into every aspect of life means that we all have to be disciplined about staying in touch with reality. Thankfully, that task may be easier than you’d imagine. Here’s one suggestion: Attend a Rotary Club meeting.
Yes, now’s the time to go back to basics.
For those unfamiliar, here's how Rotary International describes its members – they "believe that we have a shared responsibility to take action on our world's most persistent issues." Through their more than 46,000 clubs, the Rotarians strive to "promote peace, fight disease, provide clean water, support education, and grow the economy, and protect the environment." It’s a lofty agenda, but it's a wholesome one: Rotarians don’t have political aims; they aren’t in it to grow their TikTok following; they don’t change their ways just because of a shift in the winds.
The resilience of the Rotarians demonstrates their connection to reality – something we could all use more of these days. I had the pleasure of giving a brief talk to the Milwaukie, Ore., Rotary Club a few weeks back – there was nothing “artificial” about the experience. The members discussed their plans to physically attend the farmer’s market to sell wreaths for charity, to physically host a holiday party for the community, and to physically be in the seats at an upcoming ballet performance at the local school. In short, they had clear plans to stay in touch with reality by being reliable and visible parts of the community.
It’s true that Rotary Clubs have seen a dip in attendance in recent years. The perception of Rotary Clubs as vestiges of the past is not entirely unjustified. Having attended a few meetings, there’s surely a need to diversify and expand membership. Yet, the Rotary and similar organizations may be one of our best chances for not getting too distracted by AI.
If the Rotary isn’t for you, that’s fine. But if we’re going to prevent AI from disconnecting us from our shared humanity, we all need plans for being physically there for our communities. It’s a heck of a lot easier to follow through on those plans by finding a group that will hold you accountable for actively participating in community affairs.
The need for a dose of reality is especially true for younger folks. The Americans who grow up in the Age of AI may soon become accustomed to AI being a part of every aspect of their lives. As we’ve seen from social media, the unchecked and unlimited role of technology can have severe consequences on our individual and communal health. History will repeat itself if we let AI invade every part of our day-to-day activities. The best way to prevent such negative outcomes is to encourage our kids to save space for reality and to serve as role models by being physically connected to our communities; Rotary Clubs are one option to do so but there are plenty of others.
So as the new year approaches, resolve to make reality a priority for you, for your loved ones and for your community.
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.