A new survey finds a majority of Americans oppose partisan gerrymandering, even as many remain unaware of how redistricting works in their own states.
Two-thirds of Americans told pollsters for The Economist and YouGov that states drawing legislative districts to favor one party is a “major problem” with just 23 percent saying it’s a “minor problem.” But 50 percent said they do not know whether districts are drawn by the legislature or an independent commission in their own state.
Even though half of Americans do not know how their districts are drawn, a majority still is opinionated about the process.
Twenty-eight percent believe districts are very or somewhat fairly drawn in their own states, while 36 percent believe they are somewhat or unfairly drawn. Just 35 percent said they were not sure.
Nearly half of respondents (48 percent) said they strongly oppose gerrymandering while another 12 percent said they are somewhat opposed. Only 10 percent said they strongly or somewhat support gerrymandering.
In addition, three-quarters said they are strongly or somewhat in favor of a transparent process for drawing districts, and 63 percent want the process run through a nonpartisan redistricting commission.
The poll, which was conducted Feb. 5-8 and included 1,500 U.S. adult citizens, asked whether the Supreme Court should uphold or strike down congressional districts that are designed for partisan purposes, even though the court ruled in the 2019 case Rucho v. Common Cause that it has no jurisdiction over such a political question.
(Racial gerrymandering does remain within the federal court’s purview and is the subject of numerous ongoing cases.)
The redistricting analysts at FiveThirtyEight have been tracking the mapping process for congressional seats in every state. Even though Republicans have control over the process in most districts, Democrats appear to be coming out ahead so far.
The Princeton Gerrymandering Project, Electoral Innovation Lab and RepresentUs have created a redistricting report card, grading each state for partisan fairness, competitiveness and geographic features.
Of the 10 states that have been graded so far, four earned an A. Three of them (Arizona, Colorado and Michigan) have independent redistricting commissions. The fourth, Virginia, has a hybrid commission that includes some politicians.
Georgia was awarded a C, with Illinois, Maryland, North Carolina, Oregon and Texas all getting a failing grade. Congressional districts are drawn by the legislature in each of those states.
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.