Now that about 80 former members of Congress (the ones who are not truly retired) have officially been on the job market for almost a month, it's starting to become clear the pace at which many are moving through the revolving door between governance and advocacy.
Former House members have to wait one full year, and senators two years, before they may register as lobbyists and begin making direct appeals to their one-time colleagues about the shape of legislation. But during that time they're welcome to sign on with law firms and lobbying shops to provide behind-the-scenes political intelligence, strategizing and rainmaking advice. (The House Democrats' "good government" package, HR 1, would further limit how actively former members may support the lobbying of others during their so-called cooling off periods.)
Only a relative handful of Democrats still young enough to be attractive to K Street were defeated last year. The most prominent of then, former Rep. Joe Crowley of New York, is talking to several firms, while both former Sen. Claire McCaskill of Missouri and former Rep. Luis Gutierrez of Illinois have taken up careers as political pundits, she on MSNBC and he on CNN.
But the progressive news site ThinkProgress is out this week with a roundup of Republicans who've recently moved out of offices on the House side of Capitol Hill and already landed new places "downtown."
Among those who gave up their seats voluntarily, Dave Reichert of Washington, who was chair of the Ways and Means subcommittee on trade, is now vice president of Gordon Thomas Honeywell Governmental Affairs. Lynn Jenkins of Kansas, who chaired the Ways and Means oversight subcommittee, has started her own lobbying shop based in Kansas.
And both Lamar Smith of Texas, a former chairman of both the Science and Judiciary committees, and Ileana Ros-Lehtinen of Florida, a former chairwoman of Foreign Affairs, have signed on as "senior consultants" at Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld.
Of the unsuccessful Senators who sought re-election, Indiana's Luke Messer has signed on with Faegre Baker Daniels Consulting while Ohio's Jim Renacci will run a political group back home advocating for pro-business causes in Columbus.
Two Pennsylvanians effectively forced out of their seats by a court-ordered redistricting have found new homes. Ryan Costello is the new managing director for Americans for Carbon Dividends, which supports a federal carbon tax. Charlie Dent, in addition to landing a CNN contract, is at DLA Piper.
Kevin Yoder of Kansas, who lost re-election while chairing the Appropriations subcommittee on homeland security, is now at Hobart Hallaway & Quayle Ventures. And just this week another November loser, Barbara Comstock of Virginia, announced she was joining Baker, Donelson, Bearman, Caldwell & Berkowitz.



















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.