Leighninger is head of democracy innovation for the National Conference on Citizenship.
The blockade of Ottawa by Canadian truckers has finally come to an end. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau invoked the federal Emergencies Act and Ottawa police moved in to evict the protesters, who were voicing their opposition to vaccine mandates. The truckers continued to wave the Canadian flag, but most either left peacefully or were arrested.
In the United States and Canada, we often romanticize protest — at least when we agree with the cause the protesters are supporting. Protesters are going to great lengths, and sometimes putting their lives on the line, to express their opinions on important public matters. They are exercising their rights to free speech and assembly because they don’t feel heard in any other way. One notable history of the protest movements of the 1960s is titled, “Democracy Is in the Streets.”
Or is it? Nonviolent protesters may be brave, but they aren’t necessarily informed, principled or acting in the best interests of their communities and country. Even when it is peaceful, a protest is not a safe space for people who disagree to negotiate and find common ground. It is not an environment that helps people absorb information and sort out fact from fiction. And protesting is dangerous, especially for people of color, indigenous people, religious minorities, and members of other groups that are already subjected to discrimination and violence.
Democracy works better indoors — at least it should. Unfortunately, while most of our “indoor” democratic opportunities are safer than protesting, they are generally not empowering, participatory or collaborative. Most public meetings and hearings operate by a 100-year-old formula that gives citizens a few minutes at a microphone to express their concerns. Even the layout of the room reinforces a kind of “parent-child” dynamic between public officials and the public, with officials sitting in comfortable chairs on a raised dais with name plaques while citizens mill about below. These official interactions tend to make everyone angry, and they increase mistrust between citizens and government.
There are, however, many proven ways of making democracy work better. Around the world, citizens and officials have developed innovations that make governance more informed, equitable and deliberative. Many of these reforms and practices give people a greater voice in public decisions and inspire citizens to devote some of their time, energy and skills to their communities.
These reforms and practices include engagement commissions, large-scale deliberative processes, serious games, participatory budgeting, citizen’s assemblies, SMS-enabled discussions, youth voice programs, crowdsourcing processes and many others. Democratic innovations have been instituted in many countries, from Iceland to Taiwan to Colombia, as well as at the local level in some U.S. cities. When asked in surveys and opinion polls, Americans favor these kinds of innovations, even across party lines: Support for these measures ranges from 75 percent to almost 90 percent, without significant differences between Republicans and Democrats.
An interesting benefit of protest is that the experience tends to bond people. Like the Black Lives Matter and Occupy Wall Street protesters before them, the Canadian truckers strengthened relationships and built trust with one another —for many it will turn out to have been a formative political experience. But protests don’t have to be the only opportunity for bonding: We can and should build more civic opportunities that have those same benefits into the ways that our institutions and communities function.
Polarization has become such a problem in America that many people can’t imagine having a reasonable conversation, let alone a productive encounter at a public meeting, with someone on the “other side.” And it is true that not everyone is capable of being reasonable. But the vast majority of Americans, and Canadians, have enough common decency that — especially if they are in a safe, supportive environment for deliberation — they can listen to one another’s experiences, analyze information together, disagree politely on some things and agree wholeheartedly on others. To overcome polarization, and to deal with shared challenges, we need more of these kinds of opportunities in public life.
Though the drama in Ottawa ended with more of a whimper than a bang, the conclusion will probably not make either the truckers or their opponents happy (or the downtown businesses and tow truck companies thathave been caught in the middle). It may make Canadians who were hesitant about vaccines more resistant. It may help extremists co-opt the Canadian flag and portray their causes as patriotic.
Even in a more successfully democratic society, there should always be room for protest. Many social movements have achieved great benefits to society, particularly in advancing civil rights, by taking to the streets. Free speech and assembly should be protected, because protest is the last resort for people who want a say in public decisions. But if it is the only resort, we all lose.
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.