100 Days, 122 Rulings
Presidents are typically evaluated by their accomplishments in the first 100 days. Donald Trump's second term stands out for a different reason: the unprecedented number of executive actions challenged and blocked by the courts. In just over three months, Trump issued more than 200 executive orders, targeting areas such as climate policy, civil service regulations, immigration, and education funding.
However, the most telling statistic is not the volume of orders but the judiciary's response: over 120 rulings have paused or invalidated these directives. This positions the courts, rather than Congress, as the primary institutional check on the administration's agenda. With a legislature largely aligned with the executive, the judiciary has become a critical counterbalance. The sustainability of this dynamic raises questions about the resilience of democratic institutions when one branch shoulders the burden of oversight responsibilities.
The Prosecution: Legal Challenges to Executive Actions
Upon returning to office, President Trump took an aggressive approach to executive authority, unleashing a tsunami of orders aimed at radically reshaping federal policy. This strategy, designed to implement changes swiftly, seems to potentially outpace legal challenges. Nevertheless, the judiciary has actively engaged in reviewing these actions, resulting in numerous injunctions and rulings that underscore the constitutional limits of executive power.
In one high-profile case, New Jersey v. Trump, the administration’s attempt to end birthright citizenship for children born in the U.S. to undocumented parents was challenged and blocked. A federal judge found the order in conflict with the Fourteenth Amendment, and the administration’s appeal to the Supreme Court is pending.
In Dellinger v. Bessent, an executive order seeking to reclassify senior civil servants as at-will employees—effectively removing their job protections—was halted with a preliminary injunction. The court determined the order violated civil service laws and posed risks to the function of government.
Meanwhile, in National Association of Diversity Officers in Higher Education v. Trump, the administration’s effort to freeze federal funding to institutions promoting diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives was ruled an unconstitutional overreach. The court emphasized that policy disagreements do not justify infringing upon academic freedom and civil rights.
These cases illustrate a pattern of executive actions that the judiciary deems as overstepping legal and constitutional lines in the sand. The courts have thus far served as a vital check on the administration's expansive use of executive orders.
A Contemptible Congress
While the judiciary has actively engaged in reviewing executive actions, Congress has taken a more passive role. The passage of continuing resolutions (CRs) to avoid government shutdowns has inadvertently granted the executive branch increased discretion over federal spending. Unlike detailed appropriations bills, CRs extend existing funding levels without specific instructions, allowing the administration to redirect funds with minimal oversight.
This discretion has been utilized to withhold funding from programs such as climate research and DEI initiatives, aligning spending with the administration's priorities without new legislative mandates. The reliance on CRs, coupled with a lack of assertive legislative oversight, has contributed to an imbalance in the separation of powers.
Yet, even as the judiciary works to check the excesses of executive power, the legislative branch—the one designed by the Framers to be the first line of defense—has largely chosen to stand aside. If the courts have played prosecutor, Congress has spent much of its time playing the absent witness—sometimes unwilling, but just as often all too willing to let the executive branch redraw the lines it was supposed to defend. Nowhere has this been clearer than in the recent Senate vote over tariffs. The GOP-led Senate could have stood with the majority of American voters in disapproving the administration’s actions. Instead, it meekly acquiesced, declining to impose any limits on the president’s authority despite bipartisan concerns. The message was unmistakable: Trump’s consolidation of power would not face resistance from Capitol Hill.
A Test of Institutional Resilience
The first 100 days of President Trump's second term have tested the mechanisms of American governance. The judiciary has emerged as a central figure in maintaining constitutional checks and balances, responding to a surge of executive actions with rigorous legal scrutiny. However, the limited engagement from Congress raises concerns about the durability of this equilibrium. Sustaining a healthy democracy requires active participation from all branches of government and an informed public. If oversight becomes just the lonely burden of the judiciary, the system begins to tilt—slowly, but decisively—toward executive dominance.
The danger lies not in the temporary assertion of power but in the normalization of it. You don’t have to be a Constitutional law scholar to recognize that when checks and balances rely on a single branch to function, the republic risks becoming structurally unbalanced. The ongoing challenges underscore the importance of vigilance, accountability, and institutional courage in preserving the foundational principles of the republic.
This all begs the question: What is to be done? Congress must get off the sidelines and reassert its constitutional responsibilities, beginning with full appropriations bills that constrain executive discretion and meaningful oversight hearings that clarify the scope and limits of presidential power. Courts must continue to defend legal norms without being drawn into partisanship. But the broader task belongs to the public: to demand transparency, resist apathy, and reaffirm that no leader is above the law. Democracy, after all, is not self-executing—it must be defended, deliberately and continually, by those it serves.
Robert Cropf is a professor of political science at Saint Louis University.




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.