Rowland leads the Connecticut Task Force of Veterans for Political Innovation and also sits on the State Central Committee for the Griebel-Frank for CT Party. He is co-founder of a statewide RCV coalition.
The Millstone Power Station provides more than 47 percent of Connecticut’s electricity, and more than 90 percent of its carbon-free electricity. It is Connecticut’s only nuclear power plant and it will help us understand why ranked-choice voting is so important.
Gov. Ned Lamont recently received the endorsement of the Griebel-Frank for CT Party, putting him on a third line on November’s ballot. This endorsement was conditioned on the governor introducing legislation to implement ranked-choice voting, also known as instant run-off elections. To understand why this is so important to the health of our democracy, it is helpful to use Millstone as an analogy.
All nuclear-produced electricity is made by nuclear fission, splitting atoms apart to release energy in the form of heat and radiation. The energy released is captured and turned into electricity. This process of division produces harmful byproducts and toxic waste.
Our current political systems operate in much the same way. Dividing the electorate produces energy, and that energy is harnessed by politicians to further their goals, which are often not to solve problems but to simply consume that energy, maintain their power and continue to divide.
The toxic byproducts are all around us. Polarization, hyperpartisanship, politicizing issues that are not political, mud-slinging, obstructionism, and on and on. Our current method of electing officials – plurality voting – supports this division much like reactors support nuclear fission. To succeed in a plurality election, one must only receive the most votes, not a majority.
The incentives created by that system work to keep division in the structures of our politics. They incentivize behavior that is toxic, appealing to only the most extreme voters and energizing them to vote by convincing them our democracy is in peril or the identity of their country is in jeopardy. In reality, however, it is not the issues and policies of the day that divide us. It is the process. Division is the process of creating energy for politicians, energy that is captured at the polls.
An alternative form of nuclear energy is fusion, where atoms are combined to form larger atoms and energy is similarly released. Fusion is the process that our sun uses and, on Earth, the fuel required to power fusion reactions (hydrogen) is near inexhaustible. Aside from those benefits, there are no toxic byproducts, harmful emissions or risk of a meltdown. Fusion reactions, however, require specific conditions and a large amount of skill to accomplish. Much like those in our political system who have the skill and ability to bring people together to accomplish something, it only occurs under very certain conditions and is certainly uncommon.
Now imagine if nuclear fusion was a commercially viable energy source and we wanted to repurpose Millstone to be a fusion reactor. We couldn’t just walk into Millstone and press different buttons and get a fusion reaction. We would need to fundamentally change the structure and the systems and processes that occur within that structure. Similarly, to change our political system from one that uses division to one that fosters unity, we would need to change the structure. Electoral reforms do just that, and ranked-choice voting is one of the most important.
RCV creates fundamentally different incentives for all of those involved. For candidates, it removes the typical spoiler argument for third-party candidates. It also removes the overwhelmingly popular “lesser of two evils” method of getting elected. It requires candidates to focus on their merits. For voters, it is a better way for them to express their preference, versus being forced to make a binary choice or abstain.
For those looking to run for office but don’t want to be involved in such a toxic environment, it clears the way. And finally, and I believe most importantly, for public officials. It allows those who are elected to solve problems by working with everyone at the table, not just their party. It discourages obstructionism. It also gives a candidate a much richer idea of what is important to their constituents based on how the electorate voted and what is important to them.
To remove the division, we need to change the structures. One of those structures is how we conduct elections. Connecticut will soon see a better system of electing officials that has no toxic byproducts. It is hard work, but Connecticut seems ready to take on the challenge.
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.