In this episode, Debilyn Molineaux reveals the partial truths contained in conspiracy theories shared with her by a stranger on a plane. In addition, David sets out to explore the REAL culture war that can be tracked by FOLLOWING THE MONEY.
Podcast: Partial truths & corporate fables
Debilyn Molineaux
Debilyn Molineaux is the catalyst of JEDIfutures.org , a global initiative that helps people imagine and create just, equitable, dignified, and inclusive futures. She is best known for her pioneering work in civic innovation, having co-founded Bridge Alliance, Living Room Conversations, and National Week of Conversation. She formerly acted as co-publisher for The Fulcrum. Across these efforts, Debilyn has brought together unlikely allies to co-create solutions for democracy, governance, and social transformation.
Her work lives at the intersection of strategy, systems change, and spirit. A long-time practitioner of personal and collective growth, she brings a deep commitment to the inner dimensions of change that are often overlooked but essential to transformation. Debilyn speaks of the “interstitial spaces” — the connective tissue between people, institutions, and movements — where new possibilities take root.
She also hosts the podcast Terrified Nation, which helps audiences move from fear and despair into courage and action. Her voice is sought by impact investors, changemakers, and visionary leaders who want to align resources, imagination, and human growth toward a thriving future for all.
David Riordan
David Riordan is the director of Vital Signs of Democracy (VSD). David has a long history of producing Hollywood movies, interactive entertainment and documentaries.
The VSD team looks at stories in the news and determines if the events they are reporting on are threatening democracy in America. VSD uses a unique Artificial Intelligence narrative analysis process to rate news stories in 10 key categories and then aggregates those 10 individual scores into one master threat rating published every two weeks.
David and the VSD team identify politically as independents. At the moment their confidence level that either party can rally the 65% of the American public who still believe in democracy to stand up is low. That is why David and his team collect and analyze the stories we are currently telling about democracy in America in an attempt to identify thenarrative themes that will counter the anti-democratic story that is growing in influence.
David joins us twice a month to explore the news stories that are impacting democracy in America.
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.