Kevin Frazier will join the Crump College of Law at St. Thomas University as an Assistant Professor starting this Fall. He currently is a clerk on the Montana Supreme Court.
“Congress fails to protect waterlands.”
“Senate continues to gridlock on women’s rights.”
“House punts on campaign finance…again”
There are alternative headlines that could have been written before or soon after recent Supreme Court decisions. The media has instead reacted to cases like Sackett (narrowing the reach of the Waters of the United States) and Dobbs (overturning Roe v. Wade) by emphasizing the policy outcomes of the Court’s decision rather than analyzing the Court’s legal analysis and, perhaps more importantly, the absence of congressional action.
In fact, headlines have often framed the Court as a policy making body as if it has powers equal to or greater than Congress in that respect. For instance, AP's headline following the Sackett decision read "Supreme Court sharply limits federal government's ability to police pollution into certain wetlands." A more accurate and, admittedly, boring headline would have read “Supreme Court concludes that Clean Water Act does not protect wetlands unless they have a ‘continuous surface connection’ to regulated bodies of water.” Punchy? No. Accurate? Yes. Though media outlets may lament such a wordy and bland headline, they have a duty to inform citizens--not to enrage them. Headlines akin to the one used by AP ascribe more power to the Court than it actually wields. In doing so, these publications nudge the public to wrongly direct their political ire and energy.
In an age of increasing competition among publishers, journalists have an understandable urge to write headlines and articles that tap into the public’s increasing frustration with the Supreme Court. By acting on that urge, the press has provided necessary and important coverage on things like questionable (likely unethical) judicial behavior. However, that urge has also prompted coverage of the Court and its members that distracts the public from failures of the other branches of government to fulfill their governing responsibilities.
For sake of fairness, let’s assume this distraction is unintentional and that a lack of legal knowledge rather than a desire for more clicks and eyeballs is causing this sort of reporting. Under that assumption, there’s an easy remedy: the employment of more lawyer-journalists. These lawyer-journalists could serve two functions: first, reorienting how the press covers the Supreme Court; and, second, educating the public on the law and, more broadly, our government.
Imagine if coverage of each and every Supreme Court opinion walked readers through the following aspects of the decision: the procedural history (how lower courts dealt with the case); the standard of review (how much deference the Supreme Court had to afford to the lower court’s decision); the relevant precedential cases (prior Supreme Court decisions that addressed the same or similar issues); and, the narrowness or breadth of the Supreme Court’s decision (whether the decision is confined to the facts before the court or will have ramifications in more contexts). This sort of information may not lend itself to a tweet but it will reduce the odds of the public perceiving the Court rather than Congress as the body responsible for drafting policy solutions to modern problems.
Full disclosure, I’m a lawyer, so I surely have a heightened appreciation for the nitty-gritty details of judicial opinions. But why should the public not be given the opportunity to learn about and grapple with those same details? Can’t journalism at once serve an informational and educational purpose?
Lawyers may prefer that you believe that they alone can understand the ins-and-outs of the law but that’s surely not the case--or, at least, it does not have to be. If more press outlets exercised editorial restraint and discipline by reporting on the Court in a structured and formulaic way, then the public could slowly but surely develop a deeper understanding of the role of the Court and the law, generally.
In short, current press coverage of the Court contributes to a misallocation of popular attention. Consider that in the wake of outrage of Court opinions, the Biden Administration launched a Presidential Commission on the Supreme Court that brought together scholars to review potential judicial reforms. Where’s the corresponding investigation into Congress? And, while we’re at it, the Executive Branch?
The press has an obligation to inform, not enrage; and to summarize, but not sensationalize. Recent Court coverage suggests the press has been learning toward the latter functions--this approach must come to an end for the good of our democracy. One small step in that direction would come from the inclusion of more lawyers in the newsroom and the adoption of a nuanced and detailed analysis of judicial opinions. The public deserves full and accurate information, the media can and should provide it.




















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.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.