Facebook's Oversight Board upheld the ban on former President Trump on Wednesday, but didn't extend it to a permanent suspension. The Fulcrum's Debilyn Molineaux sat down with the seasoned social media team at Coffee Party USA to ask how they've moderated their Facebook page for more than 10 years. This is the first of two parts.
Community Standards for Healthy Social Media Dialogueyoutu.be
As of April 2025, people convicted of a felony in Maine, Vermont, and Washington, D.C. retained the right to vote while incarcerated, according to Ballotpedia.
Kentucky has barred more than 158,000 of its residents from voting.
Most have previous felony convictions and despite a 2019 executive order by Gov. Andy Beshear restoring the voting rights of some Kentuckians with past felonies, the Commonwealth still denies the right to vote to more prior felons than nearly any other state.
Debra Graner, a voting rights advocate for Kentuckians for the Commonwealth and the Kentucky League of Women Voters, said people reentering society have done their time and should be allowed to participate in civic life.
"This is about second chances and trying to feel whole and be a good citizen again," Graner stressed. "Voting is one of our rights. To disenfranchise people, it’s just a hurtful thing."
Some Kentucky lawmakers have said they will sponsor 2026 legislation to put a constitutional amendment on the ballot and let voters decide if voting rights should be restored to people with certain felony convictions. The state’s voting ban for people on felony probation or parole, as well as for people who have completed their sentence, is driving up the state’s disenfranchisement numbers, according to the Sentencing Project.
Although Graner supports putting the issue to a vote via constitutional amendment, she is worried the public may not understand how deeply disenfranchisement affects communities.
"A lot of people are going to automatically go, 'No, why would I want a criminal to vote?'" Graner acknowledged. "That's the big thrust for me, is getting the public to understand the situation that we're in."
Residents with previous felony convictions who have questions about their voting status can visit CivilRightsRestoration.KY.gov for information on whether they can still vote.
KY advocates continue to push for felony voting rights restoration was first published on Public News Service and was republished with permission.
Nadia Ramlagan is a producer with Public News Service. She covers the Ohio Valley and Appalachian region for Public News Service (Kentucky, Ohio, West Virginia).
Things rarely change unless there is a crisis. The present administration has certainly precipitated unprecedented challenges at all levels of our government. With the likelihood that the crisis will only deepen, the more pertinent question is how far will the destruction go?
A society’s capacity for change is often proportionate to the disaster’s depth. From the ashes of the Civil War, the ratification of the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments would go on to play such an important role in the American polity that their passage is considered by some to be a “Second Founding” of American democracy. Amidst the backdrop of decades of political decay and voter cynicism due to gerrymandering, inequities in voter representation, and political gridlock, we do not have the luxury of hoping after the current administration that “things will go back to normal.” Depending on the scale of the mounting assaults challenging our Constitutional system—made even more dire with concerns that future elections may be disrupted or manipulated—we must be prepared to harness a potential groundswell to pass reforms that update our democracy in the most concrete and durable ways.
Three ambitious proposals must be prioritized to structurally strengthen the American people’s connection to the national government, thereby helping redefine the role of the American citizen and securing the vibrancy of our nation’s democracy for generations to come.
I. Expanding the House of Representatives
Designed to be the governmental body with the most direct connection to the average American, the House of Representatives grew along with the early republic, reaching its final size of 435 members in 1911. Since then, the average population per Congressional district has ballooned to comical levels, reaching an average of 760,000 people per representative.
Expanding the House—specifically through the Wyoming Rule, which pegs district size to the least-populous state/district—would increase the chamber to approximately 574 members, an addition of 139 members. This structural update would generate a domino effect that addresses disparities in voter representation, gerrymandering, and Congressional stagnation.
The current cap causes massive “rounding errors” that deepen voter inequity. For example, Idaho has two House seats for a population of 1.84 million, meaning each representative serves about 920,000 people. In contrast, Wyoming’s lone House Representative represents 580,000 people, diluting the voice of Idaho voters. By raising the cap, these rounding errors in district partitioning could be corrected, bringing far more equitable voter representation in Congress.
Gerrymandering relies on the principles of packing (reducing the power of the opposition’s voters by compacting them into a single seat) and cracking (spreading the opposition's voters so thinly across districts that they cannot win). Smaller districts make both strategies riskier; packing becomes harder because opposition voters are forced to spill into other districts, making them more competitive, and cracking becomes more perilous as safety margins within districts shrink.
Often cited as a deterrent to expanding the House of Representatives, an increase in the 435-member cap will require greater investment in facilities, staff, and other structural aspects of the people’s chamber. For a chamber that has been so impotent and moribund during the current Presidential administration, any change should be welcomed at this point. The past few decades have seen a hollowing out of Congress's administrative manpower. Expanding the House of Representatives will inject much-needed energy into Congress.
II. Proportionality in Presidential Elections
Originally conceived as a layer of protection against demagoguery, the Electoral College now simply obfuscates the value of individual votes. The malapportionment of districts under the current Congressional apportionment formula means that voters in certain states, such as California and Texas, are significantly underrepresented. Lastly, the winner-takes-all system generates distortions that completely silence minority voters and artificially funnel all electoral efforts into a few battleground states.
Two distinct paths could alleviate these distortions.
The more conservative route is to couple the expansion of the House of Representatives with proportional voting systems for each state whereby a state’s electoral votes are divvied up based on the voter percentages within the state. These reforms would produce a far more representative picture of the American electorate by reducing representation gaps and giving minority voters a voice. An important consideration is that proportional voting would allow third-party candidates to win electoral votes, empowering alternative parties that could change the political landscape.
The national popular vote is the more radical choice. While a Constitutional amendment would be the traditional path, the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact—an agreement among states to award their electors to the popular vote winner—offers a theoretical legal bypass. The beauty and durability of the popular vote is the purity that every person’s vote is completely equal in value. All such distortions caused by the Electoral College would vanish in an instant. Though a steep uphill climb, there is clear precedent for change—the 17th Amendment, ratified in 1913, established direct election of senators.
III. A “Rigorous Flexibility” Model for New Amendments
To truly reconnect citizens to the Constitution, we must break the bottleneck of Article V, and what better way to make citizens feel connected to the Constitution than the knowledge that they can play a direct role in shaping it? Previous calls for citizen involvement in the amendment-making process exist, with Senator Robert La Follette advocating for direct democracy in the ratification of new amendments during the early twentieth century.
I propose a “Rigorous Flexibility” model. For a new amendment to be ratified, it must fulfill two out of three paths:
This two-out-of-three system draws on the principle of “double security” envisioned by Alexander Hamilton and James Madison in the Federalist Papers, in which, when the people need aid, they can pursue alternate paths for support at either the state or national levels. This proposal incorporates direct democracy, maintains the high bar for constitutional change, and prevents a single political machine operating at the national or state legislative levels from permanently blocking progress. The result is that the Constitution will become a more responsive document.
While ambitious, passage of these major structural reforms would foster a deeper connection between the American people and the national government—increasing their stake in the American experiment and helping to usher in a more sustainable democracy.
Jeremy Chang is a physician-scientist at the Tri-Institutional MD-PhD Program in New York City, earning his PhD from Rockefeller University. He spends his time studying the microscopic systems of DNA damage and pondering the macroscopic systems of American government. He completed his undergraduate studies at the University of Chicago.
USA Election Collage With The State Map Of Utah.
On Wednesday, February 11, the National Redistricting Foundation (NRF) asked a federal court to join a newly filed lawsuit to protect Utah’s new, fair congressional map and defend our system of checks and balances.
The NRF is a non‑profit foundation whose mission is to dismantle unfair electoral maps and create a redistricting system grounded in democratic values. By helping to create more just and representative electoral districts across the country, the organization aims to restore the public’s faith in a true representative democracy.
The recent filing is a motion to intervene in Powers Gardner v. Henderson, a federal lawsuit brought by a group of Utah elected officials seeking not only to overturn Utah’s fair court‑adopted congressional map, but also to give state legislatures near‑total control over federal election laws. More specifically, the plaintiffs invoke the fringe “independent state legislature theory,” arguing that only the state legislature—not citizen‑led ballot measures, not laws enshrined in the state constitution, and not state courts—can create congressional maps. In its filing, the NRF notes that the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the “independent state legislature theory” in a landmark decision in Moore v. Harper nearly three years ago, and the case should be dismissed.
“After being held to account in state court for drawing an illegal gerrymander, the power‑hungry Utah politicians behind this effort are resorting to a dangerous legal claim that would undermine our system of checks and balances—all in order to cheat the voters,” said Marina Jenkins, Executive Director of the NRF. “Almost three years ago, the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the same fringe legal theory presented by the plaintiffs in this case. To do anything other than dismiss this case outright rights.”
To place the Utah case in broader context, this filing is not occurring in isolation. It is part of a decade‑long pattern in which partisan actors seek to consolidate power by manipulating the rules of representation. At The Fulcrum, we have been tracking these structural threats to fair elections for years, documenting how gerrymandering, whether executed by Republicans or
Democrats, erodes competition, weakens accountability, and distances voters from meaningful choice.
In 2024, our reporting in a writing entitled The Worst Congressional Gerrymanders of the 2000’s highlighted how, after two full post-census election cycles, congressional maps had become so engineered that the outcomes of most House races were effectively predetermined long before voters cast a single ballot. According to a study conducted in 2022, approximately 85% of House seats were considered safe, meaning that the competition was nominal at best and that the elected representatives were virtually guaranteed their positions regardless of shifts in public sentiment. Experts described how cracking and packing techniques allowed state legislatures to lock in partisan advantage for an entire decade, even in states where public opinion shifted. That analysis underscored a troubling reality: when districts are drawn to guarantee outcomes, elections become performative rather than competitive.
To combat these issues and promote fair redistricting, readers can get involved by supporting local organizations that advocate for redistricting reform. Engaging with initiatives to establish independent redistricting commissions or participating in public forums to express concerns about gerrymandering are effective ways to contribute. Additionally, staying informed and voting in state and local elections can help ensure that representatives who favor fair maps are elected. By taking these actions,engaged individuals can help restore the principle that voters, not politicians, choose their leaders.
The Utah lawsuit sits squarely within that ongoing coverage. What makes Powers
Gardner v. Henderson is especially alarming not only because of the attempt to overturn a fair, court-adopted map, but also because of the plaintiffs’ reliance on the discredited “independent state legislature theory.” This theory is widely rejected because it posits that state legislatures have the exclusive authority to regulate federal elections, disregarding other democratic processes and judicial oversight. Critics argue that this undermines the system of checks and balances, which is essential to preventing partisan entrenchment. As we have reported, the theory would strip away the checks and balances that prevent partisan majorities from entrenching themselves. It would sideline citizen-led reforms, nullify state constitutional protections, and weaken federal election rules.
By connecting the Utah case to the national pattern we have documented, the stakes become unmistakably clear: when partisan map‑drawing intersects with efforts to centralize power, the danger extends far beyond any single district. It threatens the foundational principle that voters choose their leaders, not the other way around.
David Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
A story like Jeffrey Epstein’s is easy to treat as an anomaly—one ambitious man, one grotesque circle, one horrific chapter of American life that many would rather seal shut and forget. But I keep coming back to a harder question underneath it: do we actually believe in equal accountability, or only in accountability for the people we can easily punish?
This isn’t a left-right question. It’s a legitimacy question. A democracy can’t function if power purchases are exempted and proximity is treated as guilt. The details change depending on the arena—policing, corruption, finance, exploitation—but a familiar pattern repeats: our institutions tend to prosecute what is simple, visible, and winnable, and struggle to reach what is complex, insulated, and costly.
Which brings me back to a fact that still lands with a thud: only one woman is in prison for a global sex trafficking scandal.
That sentence carries particular weight in the Epstein story—an ecosystem of wealth, access, and exploitation spanning years and crossing borders. Whatever you believe about who knew what, the most visible conviction in that orbit belongs to Ghislaine Maxwell. And it leaves me with a question that won’t let go: is our justice system built to punish the person who can be prosecuted, not the powerful person?
I don’t mean this as a conspiracy. I mean it as mechanics. As incentives. As what’s easiest to prove in court, and what’s hardest.
When crimes happen inside elite networks, the story is rarely a clean “bad guy” with a single set of victims and a neat timeline. It’s a web: intermediaries, gatekeepers, fixers, assistants who keep the machine running. The justice system—especially prosecutors—has limited time, limited staff, and a duty to bring cases that can be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. So when a case is sprawling, ugly, and politically radioactive, the system often moves toward the person it can most clearly see.
The “prosecutable person” is usually the one closest to the victims and logistics. They’re the ones whose actions are most clear to a jury: recruiting, arranging, transporting, communicating, and managing access. Those actions can be profoundly harmful and fully criminal. But they also leave footprints. They can be reconstructed with records, patterns, testimony, and a timeline that holds up under cross-examination. They fit the courtroom’s appetite for a story that can be shown step by step.
The powerful beneficiaries of the system often sit farther back. Their participation may be real, but it is buffered by layers of insulation. They can route through intermediaries. They can avoid direct communication. They can keep payments indirect, meetings private, and accountability diffuse. Even when the social reality is widely suspected, the legal reality requires something narrower: proof beyond a reasonable doubt, tied to specific acts, supported by evidence that survives a defense team built to create doubt.
The higher you go, the more the fog thickens—not because the law can’t reach it in theory, but because proving it in practice is brutal.
And when the harm is sexual exploitation, that fog is reinforced by forces we rarely name directly. Victims are often pushed toward silence through fear, shame, and the expectation they won’t be believed. In the Epstein case, add death threats. Even when they are courageous enough to speak, the defense playbook is predictable: attack memory, motives, credibility. Time becomes an accomplice. Evidence disappears. Witnesses move, recant, or simply cannot keep reliving what happened to them. Statutes of limitations can become trapdoors. The case grows riskier to bring, and the risk is not abstract—it is public, professional, and political.
This is where the system’s incentives quietly shape outcomes. Prosecutors tend to choose cases they can win. That’s not always cowardice; sometimes it’s responsibility. A failed prosecution can harm victims twice—first by what they endured, then by what it costs them to testify with no outcome. So the system often takes the winnable case. It takes the case that can be proven. It takes the prosecutable person.
Here’s the pivot I can’t ignore: this dynamic isn’t unique to one scandal. It’s a recurring feature of how American justice functions under inequality. When power concentrates, accountability often slides downhill. The system becomes excellent at punishing proximity and clumsy at confronting status. Over time, that doesn’t just fail victims—it trains the rest of us to lower our expectations of fairness.
And now we arrive at the part that feels difficult to say out loud without being accused of “making it about gender.” But gender is already in the room. In many exploitation systems—especially those built around men’s demand—women are often positioned in roles that touch the victims directly. Recruiter. Handler. Trusted bridge. The person who makes an introduction feel safe. Those roles can be empowered or coerced, chosen or pressured, or a mix of both. But whatever the origin story, they share a common feature: proximity. Proximity creates evidence. Evidence creates convictions.
Meanwhile, men with money and status who benefit from the system can remain “theoretically reachable” and practically elusive. They don’t need to be saints to avoid accountability. They only need distance—enough insulation that the courtroom story becomes too complex, too uncertain, too expensive, or too risky to pursue.
I’m not claiming that no powerful men ever go to prison. They do, sometimes. But there is a pattern worth naming: our system punishes what it can prove, not necessarily what caused the most harm. Which means the question isn’t only “Who is guilty?” The deeper question is: what kinds of guilt does our system know how to hold accountable?
If we want something closer to justice, we have to design for the hard cases. That means resourcing investigations that follow networks rather than stopping at the most visible node. It means protecting witnesses so the truth can be told without destroying the person telling it. It means reducing the off-ramps that divert accountability into private settlements and reputational containment. And it means having the courage to pursue the demand side, not only the supply side—even when the demand side comes with names that make institutions and corporations flinch.
Because when the system punishes the most prosecutable person in the room and calls it closure, the machine survives. It learns. It adapts. And the next version gets even better at hiding the people at the top.
What we refuse to prosecute becomes an ongoing profitable business model with no accountability to anyone.
Debilyn Molineaux is a storyteller, collaborator & connector. For 20 years, she led cross-partisan organizations. She currently holds several roles, including serving as a catalyst for JEDIFutures.org and as the podcast host of Terrified Nation. She previously co-founded BridgeAlliance, Living Room Conversations, and the National Week of Conversation. You can learn more about her work on LinkedIn.
