Texans have not gotten any relief from some of the strictest vote-by-mail limits in the country, but now they will have the ability to cast ballots in person for almost three weeks ahead of the election.
Gov. Greg Abbott on Monday cited the complications of the coronavirus pandemic, which has surged in his state this month, in adding six days to the state's period for early voting.
The decision by the GOP governor was not a big surprise, because he'd lengthened early voting for this month's primary runoff and signaled he would do so for the fall. Nonetheless, it stands out because Republicans in charge in Austin have fought so many efforts by voting rights groups to broaden enfranchisement — and anything that could boost turnout is likely to benefit Democrats.
Starting Oct. 13 and ending the Friday before Election Day, there will now be 19 days to go to at least one place in all 254 counties to vote ahead of time, potentially permitting people not permitted to vote by mail — because they're younger than 65 and have no obvious illness or travel reason — to avoid long lines on Nov. 3.
The governor's proclamation also changes the state's status quo and allows absentee voters to avoid the vagaries of the Postal Service drop off their mail-in ballot to the early voting clerk's office prior to Election Day.
Texas has among the most restrictive mail-in voting rules of any state and last month the Supreme Court decided not to intervene in a Democratic Party lawsuit to expand voting by mail to all voters in the primary runoff. The party is pressing its efforts in lower federal courts in hopes of reversing the current state of play ahead of the general election.
Thirty-eight states and the District of Columbia allow for in-person early voting but the number of days varies widely. Minnesotans are allowed to go to the polls 46 ahead of time, while a handful of states permit that for less than a week. At 19 days, the new Texas timetable is right at the national average, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.
"By extending the early voting period and expanding the period in which mail-in ballots can be hand-delivered, Texans will have greater flexibility to cast their ballots, while at the same time protecting themselves and others from the coronavirus," Abbot said in a statement.
Abbott's decision "is exactly like his Covid-19 response: the bare minimum and not fully thought through," countered state Democratic Chairman Gilberto Hinojosa.
The state has the second-most electoral votes, 38, and five polls in the past month suggest former Vice President Joe Biden is essentially tied with President Trump, who won Texas last time by 9 points. No Democrat has carried the state since Jimmy Carter in 1976, but the rise of Latinos and white-collar suburbanites is pushing Texas from deep red toward an inevitable purple if not blue.
In addition to the presidential race, M.J. Hegar has a longshot chance at unseating GOP Sen. John Cornyn, a handful of suburban congressional seats held by the GOP are highly competitive and the Democrats even have a viable opportunity to win control of the state House
In another voting-related development in Texas, a new lawsuit was filed Friday challenging the state's vote-by-mail system, arguing it discriminates against people with disabilities.
The federal lawsuit points to Texas counties that currently offer electronic ballots for people in the military and overseas, arguing that the state already has the ability to offer more accessible ballots to persons with disabilities.
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.