LaRoque volunteers for the Election Reformers Network, a group of international election specialists who promote electoral improvements in the United States. A past election observer in 10 foreign countries, she was on an international team that monitored the November presidential election.
With Joe Biden now inaugurated and at work in the Oval Office, we can finally say with absolute certainty that the 2020 election is — thankfully — over.
As that dust settles and we begin to look to future elections, we must decide as a country whether to continue the unprecedented degree of early and absentee voting measures put in place as a result of the coronavirus pandemic. Indeed, this issue is already being taken up by state election officials across the country.
Here's why these measures should continue.
First, turnout increased last year despite a once-in-a-century pandemic.
Nearly 160 million people voted, more than in any other election in the past 120 years, and a staggering 101 million of those ballots were cast early or absentee. This equates to 66.6 percent turnou t, or precisely two-thirds of the voting eligible population. By comparison, 2016 turnout was only 60.1 percent.
We should be extremely proud of this turnout. The coronavirus pandemic could have easily dampened voter participation, but instead we saw a marked increase. To be sure, the highly contested nature of the presidential election fueled voter participation. But a case can also be made for the many measures states took this year to expand early and mail-in voting in response to limit long lines on an Election Day in the middle of the Covid-19 scourge.
Second, voters appear to like options.
This year, 39 states and the District of Columbia offered in-person early voting, for periods ranging from three to 45 days before Election Day and averaging 19 days. Some states, like Texas, increased the length of this early voting period specifically because of Covid-19. We also saw around half these states allow early voting on Saturday and a handful even opened polling places on Sunday.
The option to vote on weekends is undoubtedly welcome to the many who have struggled to vote in person on a Tuesday while balancing work or school schedules. For some perspective, most elections around the world are held on weekends to maximize the ability of voters to participate. (The United States and other countries that started as British colonies tend to be the exception and to hold elections on weekdays.)
This year all 50 states also provided voters the option to cast an absentee ballot, mostly by request, and 38 of them did not require an excuse for voting by mail. Only Indiana, Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee and Texas required a specific reason for wanting to vote absentee. Colorado, Hawaii, Oregon, Utah and Washington already planned to conduct their elections entirely by postal ballot, and 10 other states plus D.C. sent ballots automatically to all registered voters.
These accommodations paid off in voter participation in an unprecedented way. More votes were cast early or absentee than the total turnout four years before in a handful of states — and that number topped 90 percent in such critical swing states as Georgia, Florida and Arizona. Although election observers and media reports detailed long lines in some places during early voting, the greater dispersal of voting before Nov. 3 decreased the likelihood for technical glitches and hours-long queues on Election Day itself.
This early voting momentum also applies to young voters, a group that has historically participated the least in our elections. Somewhere between 53 and 56 percent of people younger than 30 voted — compared with 45 to 48 percent four years before. Moreover, a staggering 70 percent of these votes were cast early or absentee this time. In battlegrounds Texas and Florida, the total early youth vote topped the total youth vote in 2016. This increased turnout had a decisive effect on close races in several states.
Unfortunately, for many states, expanded early and absentee voting measures were temporary changes made to keep turnout strong but voters safe due to Covid-19. Now states should look to make them permanent. While there are positive signs from Democratic and Republican states alike, public opinion will be key to institutionalizing these measures.
To be sure, there are logistical and security matters to think through: postmark deadlines for mailed ballots, voter verification requirements for absentee voters and the timetables for processing and tabulating the early or absentee vote.
We should commit ourselves, however, to thinking these questions through in an effort to sustain or even increase 2020's record turnout. We can start with expanded early voting and no-excuse absentee voting, two measures that clearly withstood the stress test of the pandemic. Making such measures permanent, in addition to exploring same-day registration and automatic voter registration at the age of 18, will further improve turnout.
But that's not enough. Making voting easier will not necessarily lead to higher voter participation, research has shown. To be really effective it must be paired with improved voter education and outreach.
At the end of the day, our democracy is built on participation. Voting should be as convenient and secure as possible. Republicans and Democrats both benefited from increased turnout in 2020. If we can administer safe and secure elections during a pandemic, with multiple options for voters to participate, we can build upon this progress before future elections.




















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.