Richard Davies is a solutions journalist and podcast consultant. He co-hosts two bi-weekly podcasts: "Let's Find Common Ground" for commongroundcommittee.org, and "How Do We Fix It?"
Two weeks ago The House of Representatives voted to fire Kevin McCarthy as Speaker of the House. Republicans remain deadlocked about who should replace him. The work of Congress is paralyzed at an especially dangerous time for America at home and abroad.
After the murderous terrorist attacks on Israeli civilians by Hamas, the threat of a much wider conflict in the Middle East, the continuing war in Ukraine, and the very real prospect of a mid-November Federal shutdown at home, a major branch of the U.S. Government is effectively closed for business. Not a single House vote was held last week.
While the causes of the deep dysfunction among the House majority are complex, a most important issue at stake is quite simple. Do GOP members accept the need for bridge building and common ground with moderate Democrats? Congressman Jim Jordan and his hard right followers in the Freedom Caucus have built their careers on rejecting attempts at legislative compromise, but many elected Republicans know that bridging is a vital part of governing. Will they decide to air their doubts in public?
During a secret ballot vote of House Republicans on Friday, Jordan won the speakership nomination. But he lacks the votes he needs on the floor— by a large margin. When the GOP conference held another vote to count how many members would support Jordan in a floor vote, only 152 Republicans said they would. Fifty-five said no.
All House Democrats would vote against Jordan as Speaker.
“It remains astonishing that the Republicans would consider making Jordan speaker,” wrote liberal historian Heather Cox Richardson in her daily newsletter Friday. “The hallmarks of that position are an ability to negotiate and to shepherd legislation through Congress… Jordan has none of those qualities; he is a flamethrower who, in 16 years in the House, has not managed to get a single bill through the House, let alone into law.”
“These guys want to be in the minority,” was how moderate Republican Nebraska Rep. Don Bacon described hardliners in his own party. “I think they would prefer that because they could just vote no and yell and scream all the time.”
Voters remain deeply skeptical of Congress. When asked by a CNN poll last week, “How well do you feel the government in Washington represents the views of people like yourself?” 81% of adult respondents answered, “not well or not at all well.” The same survey provides little comfort for Democrats. About six-in-ten adults said they were “angry at both parties” for failing to deal with the country’s problems.
One question is how much this matters to extreme partisans on both sides? The present political crisis can be blamed on those Republicans who disdain the government. But performative politicians of the left and right— many with large social media followings— value clicks over compromise and attention over legislative results. They seek power and campaign funds by attacking anyone who challenges their narrow, rigid view of the world.
Whatever the result of this week’s House maneuvers the question remains: How many elected representatives from both parties will seek common ground with the other side and attempt to bridge divides?
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.