Kevin Frazier is an Assistant Professor at the Crump College of Law at St. Thomas University. He previously clerked for the Montana Supreme Court.
Last Friday, Nancy Pelosi announced her intent to run for re-election to the U.S. House of Representatives. Pelosi has occupied that seat since 1987. In nearly four-decades of service, she has accumulated political power and financial resources, earned tremendous influence over Democratic policymaking, and advanced the interests of many of her constituents.
She has also contributed to the decay of a vibrant and representative democracy. By staying in power for decades, Pelosi and other career politicians have contributed to a troubling and accurate depiction of D.C. as a place for “elite” politicians. Gone are the days of Mr. Smith going to Washington--this is the era of Mr. Smith going to Washington and planning to die there. From 2000 to 2012, seventeen members of the House passed away while in office.
I do not intend to diminish the profound sadness of losing any American willing to serve their communities through elected office, my goal is merely to scream what has only been whispered about: the House and Senate are not retirement homes.
Of course, anyone who is physically and mentally fit to vigorously and relentlessly advance the needs of their hometowns and our nation belongs in D.C. The representative who “often sits in the back rows of the House floor gabbing with her closest friends,” however, must step aside.
Notably, that’s how The New York Times described Pelosi’s current habits.
Of the House members who stick around until retiring on their own terms, they still stay for quite some time: the average House member occupies their seat for about a decade. Note that I didn’t mention the possibility of members exiting through electoral defeat--that’s because incumbents win reelection 95 percent of the time.
The upshot is that a healthy rate of turnover is contingent upon representatives and senators recognizing the value of new voices, perspectives, and ideologies breathing life into Congress. That norm has clearly not developed.
This would have been the perfect moment for Pelosi to step aside and let someone dedicate every ounce of their being to representing the needs of San Franciscans. Yet, finding a politician willing to relinquish power these days is like finding a NASCAR driver who enjoys turning right--nearly impossible.
In the coming months, the likely showdown between (1) a career politician in President Joe Biden and (2) a politician unable to dedicate their full mental energy to the responsibilities of the job in former President Donald Trump should give rise to a productive conversation about what exactly we’re looking for in our elected officials.
Some will try to derail this important conversation by coloring it Red or Blue and making it about partisan politics. Others will distract us from engaging on substantive issues by alleging people are ageist, ableist, or otherwise. None of that’s helpful.
This conversation should not be postponed nor sidetracked. From reforming the Supreme Court to analyzing the fitness of several Senators to continue to serve, the debate over the basic characteristics of the ideal public servant has spread into several important topics and can no longer be pushed aside.
Moreover, this “talk” needs to go deeper than technical fixes like term limits; we need to get to the roots of who we want representing us. My hunch is that we’re not OK with representatives seeing the House as a social club. I’d also wager that we’re tired of hearing about health reports more so than status updates on actual legislation.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting energetic, intelligent, and healthy representatives. So, let's talk about it.
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.