Young is the assistant director of engagement for Mormon Women for Ethical Government.
Although I have lived in six states, I didn't realize until recently how much voting access still depends on the state in which you reside. While laws can no longer explicitly exclude entire groups of would-be voters based on their religion, gender or race, voting is by no means equally accessible in all states. Registration options, deadlines, early voting and so much more vary significantly from state to state.
Considering this variety, the question surfaces: To what extent should the federal government provide and protect voting rights? Today, this question pertains to the For the People Act, which would promote the freedom to vote for all Americans. But this is not a new question.
Americans have been debating the roles of the federal and state governments since our nation's inception. Because no national standards for voting rights were specified in the Constitution, states decided who could vote (primarily landowning white males) and where and when those ballots could be cast. However, Article I, Section 4, Clause 1 of the Constitution specifically affirms that "Congress may at any time by Law make or alter" the "Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections." The Constitution empowers Congress to respond to the needs of an expanding democracy.
While the 2020 election was rife with contention and disinformation, there are two reasons to commend it. First, it had the highest voter turnout ( 66 percent of eligible voters) in decades. Additionally, it was found to be "the most secure in American history"by some of the nation's top cybersecurity officials. In such a tumultuous year, these were two important indicators. A functioning democracy requires both high levels of voter turnout and election security.
Unfortunately, rather than asking how to promote both voter participation and election processes we can trust, state legislatures across the country are using the myth of voter fraud to introduce legislation to restrict voting access. Consequently, the further protection of voting rights provided the For the People Act is crucial. This bill establishes national standards for voting access in each state (as well as much-needed campaign finance and ethics reforms).
Though these voting reforms are well within the bounds of constitutionality, opponents claim S 1 (as the bill is known in the Senate, where it is now under consideration) would federalize our elections. Yet elections would still be administered locally, and state legislatures could establish differences to their elections as long as they meet the national standards in the For the People Act. Surely the federal government has the ability, if not even the responsibility, to protect the freedom to vote in federal elections for all eligible Americans? The majority of Americans believe so. The bill has substantial (and, notably, bipartisan) popular support. Even when presented with messaging explaining that opponents say "states should control their own elections," 68 percent of Americans (including 57 percent of Republicans) approve of the bill as a whole.
Historically, Confederate states used the claim of states' rights in their attempt to preserve slavery. Even after the 15th Amendment, Southern states used the power of states' rights to implement poll taxes, literacy tests, and other laws to exclude Blacks from voting. States' rights were so closely connected to racism that the short-lived States' Rights Democratic Party was created to promote racial segregation and white supremacy. It is no coincidence that former slave states currently have the most restrictive voting laws, disproportionately affecting racial and ethnic minorities.
However, directly preceding the Voting Rights Act of 1965, many Americans favored federal intervention to guarantee voting rights. Polls show 76 percent of Americans supported a potential law to send federal officials to areas with low voter turnout to ensure Blacks and whites "are given an equal opportunity to register and to vote." When this question was framed alongside the viewpoint that it would impede the "rights of states to control their own elections," support dropped to 53 percent. The argument for states' rights diminished, but did not destroy, the desire of the majority of Americans for a federal guarantee of basic civil rights.
While local control over many legislative matters is appropriate and beneficial, the cry of states' rights has been used to restrict access to the ballot in the past. Voting is at the heart of representative government. Should our federally granted right to vote be determined locally? Today it appears that, despite alarmist language about nationalizing our elections, the public again supports using the federal government to secure voting rights for the people. Whether we live in a rural town or large city, a coastal state in the south or a landlocked state in the mountain west, the majority of Americans want equal freedom to vote. Are our elected officials up for the dialogue and collaboration necessary to make that happen?




















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.