Frazier is an assistant professor at the Crump College of Law at St. Thomas University. Starting this summer, he will serve as a Tarbell fellow.
Written into the bones of the Constitution is an emphasis on moderation. In designing each branch, the Framers thought of ways to make sure its powers wouldn’t grow too large or lead to hasty action. Over time, however, each branch has found ways to expand its mandate. This isn’t news — in fact, to our credit, we’ve tried to adopt new checks and balances to restore the sort of deliberative and methodical government intended by the Framers.
A quick review of these innovations and their subsequent demises shows two things: First, we’ve long been aware that the balance between the branches is something that requires constant management and evolution; second, we’ve lost sight of the Framers’ prioritization of a workable, reliable government by shooting down our intended fixes. Before we dive in, though, it’s important to flag that this is just a summary of very complex areas of law.
Let’s begin by exploring the legislative veto. As the number of federal agencies grew in the 20th century, Congress found itself struggling to keep track of all the rules and regulations being promulgated by the EPA, FCC and the like. To make it easier for Congress to monitor and, if necessary, reverse agency action — legislators started including a “legislative veto” in their bills. This permitted Congress to nullify an agency rulemaking by a joint resolution and without the president’s assent. Although few doubt that this helped prevent the possibility of agencies abusing their powers, a majority of the Supreme Court struck down this practice.
Next, consider the line-item veto. At the outset of the nation, Congress passed relatively straightforward bills that lent themselves to straightforward and prompt analysis by the executive branch. Fast forward 200 years or so and Congress now operates very differently. Its appropriations bills can stack feet high when printed out and are often the result of exceedingly long and contentious debate. In the event that the president wants to veto a provision of that bill, he usually faces an all-or-nothing option — the executive cannot strike down individual provisions, without causing the entire bill to collapse. The line-item veto aimed to fix this binary by empowering the president to veto singular provisions while allowing the rest of the bill to go into law. This innovative remedy also failed to survive review by the Supreme Court.
Finally, some checks have simply been forgotten. For example, the Framers intended judicial impeachment to survive as a legitimate check on judges. Consider that less than a decade into the country’s experiment with the Constitution, the House voted to impeach a Supreme Court justice for, in part, “tending to prostitute the high judicial character with which he was invested, to the low purpose of an electioneering partisan.” This vote was surely motivated by political aims but it still serves as a signal that the Framers did not regard any office as free from review. Though some judges have been impeached in recent decades, I’d argue that few members of the judiciary fear that Congress will meaningful probe into their conduct.
The “new” checks — the sorts I’d wager would be favored by the Framers — have been tossed aside. As a result, there are more instances now than ever before of different parts of the government operating without sufficient checks on their use of power. As made clear when members of the Founding era ditched the Articles of Confederation, when a system of government struggles to function in response to modern issues it may be time for substantive reforms. Previous reform efforts may have floundered but we owe it to the Founders and the Framers to continue to pursue a more perfect Union — one marked by moderation more so than the aggregation of power.




















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.