Commentators and political figures are now engaged in heated debates about whether America is experiencing a constitutional crisis. I admire their fortitude and dedication to our Republic, but they miss the most important point.
The crisis has already arrived, showing that constitutional designs are failing. Rather than trying to defend the status quo, it is time to build new ways to institutionalize democracy and the rule of law. The difficulty of getting on with that work was illustrated on February 27 when Harvard Law School assembled a distinguished panel of experts to consider the question, “Is the U.S. experiencing a constitutional crisis?”
At the Harvard event, Professor Jeannie Suk Gersen even warned, "Employing phrases like ‘constitutional crisis’ without sufficient caution or knowledge of law and facts involved in the various cases… could help foster a confrontation where there isn’t one yet. ‘As people who care about the rule of law, I think that we need to think about our own participation in hastening its demise.’”
As the New Times reports, Dean Erwin Chemerinsky of the University of California, Berkeley, disagrees. “We are in the midst of a constitutional crisis right now,” he says. “There have been so many unconstitutional and illegal actions in…the Trump presidency. We never have seen anything like this.”
The Times notes that Chemerinsky “ticked off examples of what he called President Trump’s lawless conduct: revoking birthright citizenship, freezing federal spending, shutting down an agency, removing leaders of other agencies, firing government employees subject to civil service protections and threatening to deport people based on their political views.”
“Systematic unconstitutional and illegal acts,” Chemerinsky concluded, “create a constitutional crisis.”
Writing in last week in The Hill, Jonathan Turley made fun of such talk. “It’s only March, and we have yet another declaration of a ‘constitutional crisis.’”
He was particularly scornful of “a letter from roughly 950 law professors, who generally refer to actions and policies implemented by President Trump as ‘beyond his constitutional or statutory authority.’” So — what happens,” he asks, “if the ‘experts hold a crisis and no one shows up?”
He answers, “After years of such claims, the perpetual crisis has left a dwindling number of people inclined to panic. Many have more pressing matters and have the same reaction as former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger: ‘There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.’”
Other commentators urge patience and express confidence in the resilience of our political institutions. I am not persuaded.
As I see it, “the are-we or aren’t-we in a constitutional crisis” debate is like arguing about the right diagnosis after the patient has expired.
Catholic University’s John Kenneth White gets it right when he says, “The Constitution has already collapsed.” He makes clear that while this country retains the rhetoric and formal institutional arrangements that the Constitution outlines, it does not have much of the substance left.
“Federal officeholders,” White observes, “including the president, are required to swear or affirm they will ‘defend’ the Constitution. But for Trump and his compliant Republican colleagues, these are merely pro-forma pledges. For them, paying lip service to the Constitution means reciting words without meaning.”
Some resist White’s pessimism. As evidence, they point to growing public discontent with the Trump Administration and victories in the courts.But as M. Gessen cautioned in her 2016 essay “Autocracy: Rules for Survival,” citizens should not “be taken in by small signs of normality.” And “Institutions will not save you.”
The constitution’s collapse has been a long time in the making. President Trump is simply razing an already hollowed-out structure.
As I wrote in 2017, “While we have been focused on partisan divides over government policy and personnel, an almost invisible erosion of the foundations of our political system has been taking place. Public support for the rule of law and democracy can no longer be taken for granted.” This seems even truer today.
According to a recent New York Times/Siena College poll, “A majority of American voters across nearly all demographics and ideologies believe their system of government does not work, with 58 percent of those interviewed…saying that the world’s oldest independent constitutional democracy needs major reforms or a complete overhaul.”
In addition, fundamental flaws in the constitutional system are made visible in the behavior of our elected representatives in Congress. Both parties are now less interested in ensuring that the separation of powers and checks and balances envisioned by the Framers work than being loyal followers of the president when he is a member of their political party.
White argues that without any formal constitutional change, “The presidential system created by the Founders has morphed into an American-style parliamentary system. Party line voting has become the norm in Congress.” Deference to the president is now so pervasive that even when the president says, “I alone can fix” America’s problems or is dismissive of the Congress itself and prefers rule by executive order, the majority party barely protests.
White notes that with the rise of “Donald Trump’s ‘Caesarean presidency,’ Republicans have been content to forfeit their constitutional responsibilities.” In addition, the amendment process, the Constitution’s mechanism of adapting to new realities, is so moribund that it cannot save the document or us.
Beyond these institutional breakdowns, in the age of social media and the attack on facts and expertise, America is now, as Jeffrey Rosen puts it, “Living James Madison’s Nightmare.”
“Madison’s worst fears of mob rule,” Rosen says, “have been realized—and the cooling mechanisms he designed to slow down the formation of impetuous majorities have broken….Twitter, Facebook, and other platforms have accelerated public discourse to warp speed, creating virtual versions of the mob.”
Anyone who uses social media knows that “Inflammatory posts based on passion travel farther and faster than arguments based on reason. Rather than encouraging deliberation, mass media undermine it by creating bubbles and echo chambers in which citizens see only those opinions they already embrace.”
If we survive the current crisis, the first step on the road to recovery will involve acknowledging that the existing Constitution can neither cope with the new political and technological developments that have brought us to this moment nor prevent the rise of authoritarianism and tyranny. We must stop clinging to the belief that we can respond effectively to that crisis and emerge with the existing arrangements intact.
Only then can Americans get down to the hard work of imagining a constitution that can adapt and improve democracy and the rule of law. That imagining will also help inspire action and build alliances with millions of Americans who have been telling pollsters that they want radical change.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.




















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.