The first question that will go through the minds of millions of Americans at 8 p.m. Eastern on Tuesday, when the polls close in the New Hampshire primary, will likely be a version of this:
We aren't going to have a repeat of the Iowa caucuses, are we?
This week's historic collapse of the system for reporting those results has thrust the mechanics for conducting the rest of the Democratic presidential contest under a spotlight of national anxiety and skepticism. And a bit of it is already justified, even before the next state votes.
The problem in Iowa centered on a hastily constructed and minimally mobile app that was supposed to be used to send the results from almost 1,700 caucus sites quickly and cleanly to a central counting location.
But a variety of problems doomed that concept from the start. Plenty of precinct captains never even tried to download the app, let alone get familiar with it before caucus night. Then flaws in the app's coding did not allow the three sets of results from each location to be transmitted correctly. And the old-fashioned Plan B — calling in the results to a telephone bank at party headquarters in Des Moines — caused a massive backup that apparently was aggravated by a wave of President Trump supporters who called the toll-free number in order to tie it up.
Everybody wants to know whether it could happen again — and, if so, where. That depends on a number of factors: whether the balloting is being conducted by the state government or the state Democratic Party, the latter of which usually has far less experience in running elections; whether the state is one of the few remaining with a caucus, which is more complicated than a primary; and what technologies are being deployed for conducting the vote, transmitting the results from the polling places and tabulating the statewide results.
Here is a quick look at what to expect from the next three Democratic contests, which combine with Iowa to be the de facto opening round that will probably reduce the roster of presidential hopefuls to a viable handful: the New Hampshire primary on Tuesday, the Nevada caucuses on Feb. 22 and the South Carolina primary on Feb. 29.
New Hampshire
Risk of Iowa redux: LOW
Positives:
- The election is being run by the state — not by the party, like the Iowa caucuses.
- There are only 301 precincts — as opposed to the 1,681 in Iowa.
- It's a straightforward primary, with Democrats allowed to choose one candidate, whereas Iowans could change allegiances between a first and second round.
- The voting is on paper ballots.
- Absentee ballots can only be obtained with an excuse, which often limits their number and so makes less work for election officials.
Negatives:
- There will be more votes to count. This week's Democratic turnout in Iowa totaled about 180,000 participants — but approximately 250,000 voted when Hilary Clinton squared off against Bernie Sanders in New Hampshire in 2016.
- Same-day voter registration could slow down the process if a throng of newbies show up.
- Experts say the state's voter registration rolls may be vulnerable to hacking.
Nevada
Risk of Iowa redux: MODERATE to HOLD ON TO YOUR HAT
Positive:
- The Democrats have scrapped plans for using the same app, built by the curiously named Shadow Inc., that caused so much Iowa angst.
Negatives:
- Like Iowa, this will be a caucus run by the state party — so neither a primary nor a government-run contest. Also, like Iowa's Troy Price, Nevada Democratic Party Chairman William McCurdy has never run a caucus before.
- There is no replacement yet for the dumped app. And the new process for reporting results has not been announced with two weeks to go.
- There will be 1,835 different caucuses — or 9 percent more than in Iowa.
- Early voting is allowed Feb. 15-18. That will require transmitting those results to organizers at each caucus site, and relying on them to include the early ballots in the vote count for each candidate.
- The party has a new set of rules this year, including a version of ranked-choice voting at the start of the caucuses and a complex method to determine which candidates have enough support to qualify for delegates.
South Carolina
Risk of Iowa redux: LOW
Positives:
- The state will run the election.
- It's a traditional primary: There will be 14 names on the ballot (including some who've dropped out) and voters do nothing but mark a single choice for president.
- Absentee voters must provide an excuse, which usually lowers the number of absentee ballots to be counted.
- There is no same-day registration that could slow the voting process.
Negatives:
- The state has a well-earned reputation for dirty politics.
- It's an open primary, meaning Republicans could swamp the polling places in an attempt to skew the results.
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.