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.
Jane Doe taught public school in Texas. She lived in Dallas with her husband, John, and their three kids. They lived a pretty good life but cracks in their collective well-being started to emerge. First, Jane no longer felt supported in her role -- curriculums changed, parents raged, and students disengaged. Second, John tired of debating politics, defending positions, and detailing to his kids why change wasn’t on the horizon. So, the Does traded football for futball and moved to Berlin, Germany. In doing so, they discovered America…only twenty years from now or so they hope.
I grabbed dinner with John in his new home of Berlin. Over veal meatballs he explained why America has so much to learn from Germany and why it ought to learn such lessons sooner than later.
First, John outlined the willingness of Germans to embrace their troubled past. He explained that Germans, though several decades later, have acknowledged that many, if not most, of their forebears were passive or active perpetrators in oppressing religious, social, and political minorities. Additionally, Germany has deliberately and extensively documented and memorialized their persecution and extermination of those populations.
John pointed to the “Stumbling Blocks” throughout Berlin, Germany as a whole, and Europe as an example -- these 4cm by 4cm bronze blocks lie outside of the homes of those who were forcibly taken and murdered throughout the Third Reich - each block identifies the residence and notes how and where they died. In comparison, John noted that his kids grew up with insufficient awareness of America’s own history in the enslavement and elimination of minority groups throughout its history.
Second, he explained the global perspective and lived experience of Germans. John detailed that although Berlin has a housing crisis like many U.S. cities, the community stepped forward in a big way to make sure refugees of the war in Ukraine could find shelter, comfort, and support. He also corrected the assumption of many Americans that Germany is a homogeneous place-- Nearly 20 percent of people living in Germany were not born there. With four kids in tow, John is keenly aware of the importance of introducing them to all the diversity Germany and, of course, Europe as a whole has to offer.
Third, John touted the adoption and respect for human rights demonstrated by the German public, government, and many other parts of the European Union. This point was of particular importance given his daughter’s recent transition from identifying with their assigned gender at birth. According to John, she likely would not have made such a transition or at least with as much support if she had attempted to do so in the United States. My own travels reaffirmed John’s observations - the EU flag flies prominently throughout Berlin and serves as a constant reminder that EU residents have made a commitment to celebrate the freedoms and protections to which every individual is entitled.
After each of us had finished our meatballs and bonded over even meatier topics, I couldn’t help but ask John when he planned to return to the States. He shrugged. Financially, he felt compelled to stay - his four kids could receive a free higher education here. As a parent, he felt a responsibility to expose his kids to Europe’s panoply of cultures, perspectives, and histories as well as to allow them the freedom to grow up in a place more welcoming of their ideas. As an American, he felt torn -- recognizing his desire to help the United States learn what Germany seems to have already picked up, albeit in fits and starts.
According to John, no German would tell you they have fully learned from the nation’s past; no German would pat the nation on its back for the progress it has made; and, no German would claim the people have fully sorted out how to deal with the tension of being a global, multicultural society that still retains a shared set of ideals. But, John makes a compelling case that Americans can and should look across the Atlantic to see how others are responding--often with great poise--to issues already on America’s doorstep.
I hope John returns. But more than anything, I hope those who travel abroad come home with more than Starbucks cups from their favorite city--America does not have a monopoly on good ideas, which means that we can and should engage in an exchange of ways to advance individual and communal well-being.




















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.