To avoid the challenge of overcoming a Senate filibuster, Congress sometimes uses the process of “reconciliation.” That bit of arcane procedure allows Congress to approve budget-related legislation by simple majority votes.
Earlier this week, Senate Democrats passed the Inflation Reduction Act using the reconciliation process, and the House followed suit on Friday, overcoming the deep partisan divide that prevents most legislation from becoming law.
In an increasingly polarized Congress, reconciliation has gained attention with both sides of the political spectrum criticizing the process as a way to “cheat” the legislative system – and also utilizing it for their own benefit (much like the filibuster).
So we asked our readers: Is reconciliation a legitimate way of passing major legislation? Did you feel differently when Republicans used it to pass the Republicans’ tax cuts in 2017? Was the Inflation Reduction Act a good use of the tool?
Following is a selection of reader responses, edited for length and clarity.
It’s a very difficult call. I think we should need a two-thirds vote to pass anything to get bipartisanship into our legislative process. The challenge with this – in our polarized government – is we may never get any legislation passed. -Al Smith
I think using the reconciliation process is the reality of a hopelessly divided and cynical Congress. As much as I don't like it being used to pass legislation I oppose, I understand that reconciliation is all a majority party is left with if too few legislators are willing to set aside the partisan hackery to work together. It reminds me of the fact that, now more than ever, we need to invest in ways to approach one another across our differences, collaborate on shared goals, and learn how to better define the boundaries of our disagreements. This is not something we will learn from Congress, but it could be something Congress learns from us. -Damien Lally
Reconciliation allows even an extremely polarized Congress to pass legislation. In that this is one of the functions of Congress, reconciliation is a good thing. In passing legislation, a Congress ideally reflects the values and priorities of the majority of the electorate. Given the Electoral College system, and the fact that a majority of Congress can represent a minority of the people, the passing of legislation can at least make clear to that part of the public that is paying attention the values and priorities of the party in the majority, and thus aim to clarify the whole electoral process. -John Mathews
In my opinion, it reflects the slowly emerging end of the Senate rules requiring 60 votes to pass legislation and the use of the filibuster. Or to put it another way, a simple majority is all it will take now to pass most legislation, for whichever party is in control of Congress. -Pat Partridge
As long as the filibuster remains in its broken state, legislators require a way around it. Depriving the American people of legislation that is broadly popular among voters but that "only" 59 percent of senators support is nearly always wrong. -Riley Hart
Reconciliation, which can be characterized as power politics, may be beneficial for "small" legislation since it is almost impossible to get complete agreement on everything. Reconciliation on "large" complex and controversial topics can be perceived as "might makes right" power politics. Thus it can create more not less polarization among competing sides because of the broad ramifications of large, complex and multi-topic legislation. Creating more polarization is the opposite of the term “reconciliation.” mIf you want to polarize the country more, then do more reconciliation on large complex legislation. -Kenneth Rebar
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.