Murphy is the director of FixUS, the democracy reform advocacy arm of the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget, a fiscal policy think tank of which he is also chief of staff. Henry is a program associate for FixUs and CRFB.
Patriotism is defined as “ love for or devotion to one’s country,” a value that, historically, Americans have shared very broadly. Yet one would not be criticized for questioning whether this trait is waning in the face of deep polarization, mounting national pessimism and politicization of the topic itself. In just the last few weeks, polls reminded us that rapidly growing majorities of Republicans and Democrats say their political counterparts are close-minded, dishonest, immoral, and unintelligent, and two-thirds of Republicans, Democrats, and independents alike fear American democracy itself is in danger of collapse.
Despite our national melancholy, however, American patriotism appears to remain alive and widespread; 72 percent of Americans are proud to be so, and 73 percent would, despite its faults, rather live in the U.S. than another country, according to the results of a poll we conducted with YouGov earlier this summer. At the same time, other polls, such as Gallup’s June American pride survey, suggest patriotism may simultaneously be on a decline.
Tapping into and restoring our shared sense of patriotism might be the critical element we need to overcome hyperpolarization, but if we hope to do this, we must better understand what drives our underlying love of country in the first place. We also should recognize how partisans think differently on these topics to prevent extremist voices from exploiting these divisions for their benefit.
In testing some hypotheses about what might drive our shared patriotism, our initial findings suggest three simple yet fundamental points:
We take pride in our shared story. Contrary to the divisive debates over the nation’s past, Americans, regardless of partisan affiliation, express pride toward many of the defining aspects of U.S. history, ranging from scientific and technological innovations to winning World War II, from the resolution of the Civil War and outlawing slavery to the adoption of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and to guaranteeing women’s suffrage in the 19th Amendment (the greatest source of pride among the list provided in our poll). More in Common has found this as well, with Americans expressing high levels of familiarity and warmness toward historical figures ranging from Benjamin Franklin and George Washington to Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr.
We stress the importance of our ideals. Americans are unequivocally united in their belief in America and what America should be. Regardless of party, Americans declare that each of our fundamental ideals is especially important to them, including America’s striving to be a land of opportunity and liberty, a melting pot and a country of equal justice for all.
We are not blindly allegiant. Some have feared the possibility of a growing pernicious form of nationalism taking root in America. Yet sentiments associated with blind patriotism are low in the aggregate, whereas huge majorities support the concept that criticizing and working to improve the country is in and of itself patriotic. For example, 85 percent of Republicans, 86 percent of independents, and 88 percent of Democrats think you should notice and work to correct America’s problems if you love the country.
With Americans having a common sense of history, a shared sense of ideals and the need to achieve them, and a belief that criticism of our nation’s problems is the task of a true patriot, it would appear the country has a foundation for building a shared patriotism.
Of course, we are a long way from realizing that goal. Our research and that of many others have found that despite our shared values, we suffer from a profound mistrust of “the other.” For example, despite majorities professing a belief that those who express their love of country differently (even through criticism) are valued community members whose freedom of speech and right to protest injustice should be protected, only 43 percent of Americans agree that people who protest U.S. policy are generally good, upstanding people and valued members of society. This severe mistrust of the motives of others – so long as their criticism is different than what we would likely give – is further compounded by a substantial perception gap where people ascribe different beliefs to others than they genuinely hold.
But what if the root of these divides lies with the American story itself – our perpetual struggle to achieve our founding ideals? What if, instead, we recognized that we all agree on the same ideals, but we just differ on how close (or not) we are to achieving our full realization?
For example, 83 percent of Republicans believe we are more than halfway to becoming the ideal land of opportunity, “where if you work hard and play by the rules, you can achieve success and a happy life for yourself,” while only 57 percent of independents and 51 percent of Democrats do so. Similarly, 73 percent of Republicans believe we are more than halfway to achieving the “equality and justice for all” ideal for the country, “where all groups in society are respected and treated fairly,” compared to 51 percent of independents and 43 percent of Democrats.
These divides are not just deserving of recognition but are worth elevating and reconciling. For, as 85 percent of Americans indicate in their appreciation of criticizing our country's flaws and problem-solving, true patriotism is not just a feeling or a sense of nationhood but a constant action thereof. One reflection of this duty is countering misperceptions, both our own and those we interact with. But more importantly, it is building trust by building bridges, and our data suggests the emerging bridge-building movement has an enormous opportunity to bring people together by focusing on the foundational task of closing the gap between the America of today and the America we dream of. We believe a shared patriotism will provide this bond: a patriotism that is not an act of worship but one of love for our fellow citizens and faith in the common ideals that have brought us this far, and one that compels us to account for our national flaws, collaboratively respond to the critical disputes of today, and continue working toward a more perfect Union tomorrow.



















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.