Kevin Frazier is an Assistant Professor at the Crump College of Law at St. Thomas University. He previously clerked for the Montana Supreme Court.
“I’m just the middle guy.” It seems like a harmless and justifiable excuse. But when entire companies, governments, and communities become dominated by “middle guys” working for “the boss,” the little guys lose out. This may not seem like a problem to those who can afford to get around middle guys. These are the folks who seemingly float above the barriers that slow everyone else down. They’re the handful of individuals who can, for example, charter private jets and avoid the airline ticket counter--a dominion controlled exclusively by middle guys whose hands are always tied.
It turns out there’s rarely a middle guy who can’t be circumvented with some time and money. For everyone else, there’s a looming accountability crisis brought on by promises being made by individuals and institutions with no intention of ever keeping them--and instead putting the blame on an unaccountable middle guy.
Accountability does not exist if those who hold power don’t face consequences for taking inadequate, illegal, or immoral actions. In the Age of the Middle Guy, Average Joes and Janes cannot afford to go after “the boss,” who are protected by complex contracts, well-paid lawyers, and deep pockets. In short, in too many situations it now takes time and money to get back your time and money.
Case in point, my friends hired a moving company to deliver their goods to a home in a new state. Well, that’s what they thought. In actuality, they hired a “broker,” who hired a “mover,” who hired contractors to move their stuff. When their goods arrived damaged and two-weeks late, they tried to get a refund from the contractors - who pointed them to the movers, who pointed them to the brokers, who never answered their calls. My friends wanted to hire an attorney to go after anyone and everyone but lacked the time and money to get back their time and money.
Initially, I questioned why my friends didn’t read enough Google Reviews to hire a better company. Then, I realized…Wow! I have sipped way too much Kool-Aid. I rushed to question the consumer--the Joes and Janes with no power--rather than an industry and culture that has robbed little guys of any means to impose consequences on those who should be held accountable.
Those in power go out of their way to diminish the likelihood and magnitude of those consequences. In other words, they try to reduce the odds of getting caught and, if they somehow are caught, they try to limit the severity of the punishment.
Over time, the powerful have created more and more creative ways to evade detection and escape punishment. They’ll use distance (see King George counting on an ocean to avoid facing the colonists); time (see dictators throughout history delaying elections); middle guys (see moving companies hiring contractors); and, bureaucracy (see some governments)—all in an effort to reduce the odds of little guys coordinating to actively hold them to account.
Regrettably, the powerful usually succeed. Little guys don’t have the time and resources to sail across the sea or, in modern times, wait on hold. What’s more, even when the powerful get caught in the act, they manage to avoid facing severe consequences — their contracts are too strong, their lawyers are on speed dial, and their political ties are too deep.
When accountability goes, so does legitimacy. When little guy after little guy has a story about being taken advantage of and nothing to show for their suffering, entire institutions can start to crumple. The stories of corruption spread and the willingness of Joes and Janes everywhere to trust those institutions dissipates.
That lack of trust is spreading today and has become one of the most important issues of our time. One way to restore that trust is to look for ways--through regulations, rules, and norms--to cut out the middle guy and make sure that the powerful can be directly, swiftly, and appropriately held to account.
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.