That is my central concern as Americans approach the November 3 midterm election. Donald Trump will not be on the ballot. But the willingness of Congress to question him, in…

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The October 23 Denver Post carried an Associated Press report on a new Migration Policy Institute (MPI) analysis. Its findings complicate the familiar political script: President Donald Trump has increased deportations, but the latest projected annual total remains below his stated target and earlier historical highs.[1]

That does not mean his enforcement campaign has accomplished nothing. It means Americans need to understand the scorecard.

First, Decide What Counts

“Deportation” sounds like a single action. Federal statistics describe several different processes. A removal involves a formal deportation order and usually a ban on returning. A return generally means someone leaves without that order, avoiding the additional penalties attached to formal removal. Pandemic-era Title 42 expulsions used a separate public-health authority. And people who leave on their own present a different measurement problem altogether.[2]

These categories cannot be mixed casually. Comparing one president’s formal removals with another president’s removals, returns, and pandemic expulsions is like comparing one squadron’s sorties with another wing’s entire flight schedule.

Nor does every recorded departure represent the removal of someone who had settled in an American community. Border turnarounds are part of many totals. Counts of enforcement actions also should not automatically be treated as counts of distinct individuals: people may cross and be returned more than once.

Flashback: Enforcement Did Not Begin With Trump

The broader historical benchmark is striking. In fiscal year 2000, under President Bill Clinton, combined removals and returns reached approximately 1.86 million. Trump’s projected fiscal 2026 total for combined removals and returns is about 660,000. Both figures combine formal deportations with departures made without a formal removal order, including people turned back at the border. [3]

The lesson is not that Clinton necessarily operated a more effective version of today’s interior enforcement campaign. A large border-return total measures a different challenge from finding, processing, and removing people who have lived in the country for years. A government confronting more attempted crossings can record more departures while still struggling to control the border.

Barack Obama supplies the clearest comparison for formal removals. DHS-wide removals exceeded 432,000 in fiscal 2013. The current Trump administration’s annualized pace of roughly 380,000 removals falls between the averages for Obama’s two terms: approximately 392,000 and 373,000.[4]

Presidents from both parties have therefore presided over substantial enforcement. Neither party owns the historical record outright; the ranking changes with the measure.

Trump Versus Biden: A Real Increase, With Qualifications

MPI estimates that Trump’s current projected annual deportation total is 26 percent above the Biden fiscal 2021–2024 average and 42 percent above the Trump 1.0 fiscal 2017–2020 average. Those comparisons exclude Pandemic-era Title 42 expulsions.[3][4]

That is evidence of increased enforcement. It should be acknowledged plainly.

But an annual average does not describe every year—or every twelve-month period—within an administration. MPI previously reported that Biden’s administration carried out 775,000 removals and returns in the twelve months after Title 42 ended. That period differs from the fiscal-year projection used for Trump. It demonstrates why exceeding Biden’s four-year average does not establish that Trump has exceeded every Biden-era enforcement period.[2]

Historical Comparisons

Historical benchmark

Measure and period

Approximate total

Clinton

Removals and returns, FY 2000

1.86 million

Obama

Removals and returns, FY 2013

611,000

Biden

Removals and returns, twelve months after Title 42 ended

775,000

Trump

Removals and returns, projected FY 2026

660,000

These are selected benchmarks, not a single ranking: categories and reporting periods differ. Trump’s estimates use data through July 31, 2026; the FY 2026 figure is a projection, not a completed-year count.[2][3][4]

At the projected rate, Trump would achieve about two-thirds of his million-a-year goal. A measurable increase and a missed target can both be true.

Moving the Mission Into American Communities

MPI estimates during Trump 2.0 approximately 980,000 deportations between January 20, 2025, and July 31, 2026. About 69 percent involved people initially intercepted at the border, although the share arising from interior arrests increased.[3]

That distinction matters. Removing someone stopped at the border is often simpler than removing someone who has lived in the United States for years. Longtime residents may have family ties and legal claims that take time to resolve. Increasing arrests inside the country therefore creates more cases to process, without necessarily producing an equal increase in completed deportations.

Geography also matters. Returning someone to a neighboring country and arranging travel documents and transportation across an ocean require different resources. Courts and diplomacy are part of enforcement capacity, not peripheral concerns.

The Tactics: What Has Changed—and What Has Not?

Deportation totals measure output. Tactics reveal how government uses its power. A fair historical comparison must examine both.

One institutional distinction comes first: ICE did not exist during the Clinton administration. It was created in 2003, when immigration functions were reorganized within the new Department of Homeland Security. Comparisons reaching back to Clinton therefore concern federal immigration enforcement and ICE’s predecessor agencies.[12]

Who becomes a target

George W. Bush’s administration conducted large workplace and community operations. Obama initially presided over extensive enforcement, then narrowed priorities, particularly in 2014, toward national-security threats, serious criminal offenders, and recent unlawful entrants. Biden likewise emphasized security threats and recent arrivals, with more consideration of individual circumstances. These were enforcement priorities, not blanket legal immunity for everyone else.[5]

Trump’s approach, beginning in his first term and broadened in his second, gives agents much wider latitude to pursue people who are removable even without a serious criminal conviction. The practical difference is substantial: a longtime resident who was unlikely to be a priority under late-Obama or Biden guidelines may now face arrest. That does not mean every arrest lacks a public-safety rationale; it means serious criminality is no longer the same limiting principle.[5]

Workplace raids versus employer audits

Large workplace raids are not a Trump invention. Bush used them, including the 2008 meatpacking-plant operation in Postville, Iowa. Obama shifted toward audits of employers’ I-9 employment-verification records. Biden halted mass worksite operations in 2021, emphasizing employer accountability. Trump revived worker-focused operations in his first term, and his second administration has again conducted highly visible workplace arrests.[6]

Those approaches distribute the burden differently. Audits put pressure on the hiring practices that create demand for unauthorized labor. Raids immediately remove workers and disrupt workplaces. Either can deter unlawful employment; their effectiveness should be judged by lasting compliance, not simply the number arrested on camera.

Where agents make arrests

Obama-era “sensitive locations” guidance generally restricted enforcement at places such as schools, hospitals, and houses of worship, with exceptions. Trump’s first administration initially retained that framework. Biden expanded the protected-areas policy. In January 2025, the second Trump administration rescinded the Biden policy, giving officers greater discretion at locations previously covered by it.[7]

Courthouse enforcement has its own policy history, but courthouse arrests and arrests at immigration check-ins have become prominent parts of the current campaign. Administrative policy changes however do not eliminate constitutional protections or applicable court orders.[7]

The tradeoff is practical as well as ethical. An arrest at a predictable appointment may be easier than locating someone elsewhere. But if people conclude that attending court, reporting a crime, or obtaining medical care exposes them to arrest, enforcement can weaken cooperation with other public institutions.

Masks, identification, and public visibility

Reuters reported in June 2025 that former officials described increased use of masks and tactical gear during Trump’s second term; several did not recall routine masking under Biden. ICE leaders defended masks as protection against doxxing and threats. Critics argued that concealed identities and unclear markings impede accountability.[8]

Masks alone do not establish wrongdoing. Nevertheless, officers’ safety and their verifiable authority are both legitimate requirements. A sound system must protect personnel while enabling the public to identify the agency responsible and report misconduct.

The Optics

The images of masked agents in tactical gear arresting people at workplaces, outside courthouses, and on neighborhood streets can make immigration enforcement appear more intimidating than necessary. They also raise questions about whom the government is targeting. Despite the promise to remove the “worst of the worst,” MPI found that only about one in five deportations during the first eighteen months of Trump’s second term involved someone with a criminal conviction.

Lacking a conviction does not establish a legal right to remain, but it challenges the impression that this campaign primarily removes dangerous criminals. Broad enforcement can also sweep up people whose work, family responsibilities, and community service might place them among the “best of the best” in their neighbors’ eyes. Enforcing immigration law requires judgment about both public safety and the contributions of the people affected.

Local police as a force multiplier

Cooperation between federal immigration agents and local jails has long helped generate arrests. Obama expanded fingerprint-based information sharing through Secure Communities before replacing it with a more targeted program. His administration also discontinued the 287(g) task-force model, which allowed designated local officers to exercise immigration powers during ordinary policing, following civil-rights concerns. Trump’s second administration restored that model.[9]

By February 2026, MPI reported 1,427 total 287(g) agreements (cooperation between federal immigration agents and local jails), compared with 135 in January 2025. The agreements vary in their powers; they should not all be treated as authorization for street-level immigration patrols.[7]

This expands federal reach but raises a familiar question: does greater immigration enforcement during local policing improve public safety, or discourage witnesses and victims from seeking help? Local conditions and the design of cooperation matter.

Detention and pressure to depart

Detention, private contractors, and family detention all predate the current administration. Obama and Trump used family detention; Biden largely suspended it, and Trump resumed it in 2025. The second Trump administration has expanded detention capacity and used additional types of facilities. The difference is therefore partly scale and intensity, rather than the invention of detention itself.[10][11]

There is also a distinction between an enforceable departure decision and departure accepted to escape confinement. Lawyers and advocates cited in the AP report say some detainees abandon their cases to leave detention. That allegation deserves examination rather than an assumption that every agreed departure reflects an unpressured choice.[1]

The historical conclusion is more precise than either partisan slogan: today’s campaign combines familiar enforcement tools with broader targeting, expanded detention, more visible operations, and fewer administrative limits on where arrests occur. Previous administrations were capable of aggressive enforcement, sometimes at very high volumes. The question is whether the current Trump 2.0 combination produces durable, lawful results proportionate to its financial and human costs.

Legal accuracy belongs on that scorecard, too. Wrongful detention and removal undermine the legitimacy of enforcement. Efficient adjudication and faithful execution of lawful decisions should reinforce each other.

Forward: Build Capacity That Outlasts a Presidency

History points toward an institutional answer: adequate adjudication, disciplined enforcement priorities, cooperation with receiving countries, usable legal pathways, and consistent public reporting.

Those measures deserve scrutiny regardless of which party occupies the White House. Congress must help align the law, the mission, and the resources. Presidents must explain what their numbers actually count.

Trump can reasonably claim an increase over recent administrations’ average deportation pace. The available evidence does not establish an unmatched historical record, and his projected total remains short of his announced goal.

The means of enforcement belong in that judgment as much as the totals. The enduring leadership test is whether an administration builds a lawful, effective system that its successor can sustain. Campaigns reward promises. Institutions must deliver results.

Looking Ahead: What Success Should Mean

History shows that presidents from both parties have deported large numbers of people. Trump has increased enforcement, but his results remain below his announced goal. His administration has also broadened who may be arrested, expanded detention, and given agents more freedom to choose where arrests occur.

The question is whether these tactics produce better results. More arrests do not automatically mean a safer country or a better immigration system. Success should mean fewer unlawful entries, timely and fair decisions, and the removal of people who have no legal right to remain—with priority given to those who threaten public safety.

Americans deserve clear, consistent reporting on both results and costs. Congress must provide workable laws and the resources to carry them out. Every administration must enforce those laws while respecting constitutional protections.

The lesson from the past is straightforward: strong enforcement requires sound judgment as well as resolve. The goal should be an immigration system that works, earns public trust, and lasts beyond any one presidency.

Sources

[1] Rebecca Santana, Associated Press, “Deportations climb, but fall short of target,” The Denver Post, October 23, 2026; supplied article. Online AP version: https://apnews.com/article/a550c554eea7d71deb00d92a0ba78677

[2] Muzaffar Chishti and Kathleen Bush-Joseph, “Comparing the Biden and Trump Deportation Records,” Migration Policy Institute, June 27, 2024. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/comparing-biden-and-trump-deportation-records

[3] Migration Policy Institute, “Deportations During First 18 Months of Trump Administration Reach Highest Level in Years, Albeit Short of All-Time Highs,” October 2026. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/press-release/deportations-during-first-18-months-trump

[4] Marc R. Rosenblum, “U.S. Deportations and ‘Self-Deportations’ in the First 18 Months of the Second Trump Term,” Migration Policy Institute, October 2026. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/publication/us-deportations-second-trump

[5] Migration Policy Institute, “Biden Immigration Enforcement Priorities Emphasize a Multi-Dimensional View of Migrants,” October 28, 2021. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/biden-immigration-enforcement-priorities-emphasize-multi-dimensional-view

[6] Migration Policy Institute, “Employment Verification: The Next Front for U.S. Immigration Enforcement?” November 20, 2025. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/employment-verification-next-front-us-immigration-enforcement

[7] Migration Policy Institute, “Escalation of ICE Operations Emboldens State and Local Lawmakers to Constrain Its Operations,” 2026; and Congressional Research Service, “Immigration Arrests in the Interior of the United States: A Primer.” https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/escalation-ice-operations-emboldens-state-and-local-lawmakers-constrain-its ; https://www.everycrsreport.com/reports/LSB10362.html

[8] Ted Hesson, Tim Reid, and Mike Scarcella, Reuters, “Los Angeles ICE raids fuel controversy over masked agents,” June 9, 2025. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/los-angeles-ice-raids-fuel-controversy-over-masked-agents-2025-06-09/

[9] Migration Policy Institute, “Beyond ICE: State and Local Authorities Become Central to Trump Administration Deportations Strategy,” 2025. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/beyond-ice-state-and-local-authorities-become-central-trump-administration

[10] Muzaffar Chishti and Valerie Lacarte, Migration Policy Institute, “U.S. Immigrant Detention Grows to Record Heights under Trump Administration,” October 29, 2025. https://www.migrationpolicy.org/journal/policy-beat/us-immigrant-detention-grows-record-heights-under-trump-administration

[11] Associated Press, “Trump administration resumes detention of immigrant families after Biden-era pause,” March 2025. https://apnews.com/article/c008c78469d85a7c1962a6b36ac29330

[12] U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, “History of ICE.” https://www.ice.gov/es/node/57379

Methodological note: The October 2026 MPI analysis defines total deportations as removals plus returns, excluding Title 42 expulsions. Its FY 2025 estimate annualizes the period beginning January 20; its FY 2026 projection uses October 2025–July 2026 data. Fiscal-year statistics do not align exactly with presidential terms. DHS-wide figures must not be equated with ICE-only statistics.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more—copy and paste this URL: johnlbarry.org

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John L. Barry | Major General, USAF (Ret.) | Author | Speaker | Leader / Educator | Aviator

Exploring how history shapes leadership - and how leadership shapes the future.

In his October 16 commentary…

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For a leader seeking to protect power, such confusion can be useful. Opponents struggle to establish priorities. Reporters move to the next headline. Citizens grow weary. Institutions spend their time responding rather than completing the work of accountability. This offers a framework for examining the Trump administration: Can a presidency produce so much controversy that the resulting quagmire helps shield it from sustained scrutiny? The evidence supports examining that possibility. It does not however establish that every controversy follows a single secret plan necessarily.

In my earlier writing, I explored three related problems: “normalizing deviance”, governing at “muzzle velocity,” and “distraction politics”. Together, they explain how a government can remain highly visible while becoming harder to hold accountable.

Speed, Distraction, and Acceptance

“Muzzle velocity” describes the pace. “Distraction politics” describes the shifting focus. “Normalizing deviance” describes what repeated exposure can make people accept.

Former Trump strategist Steve Bannon supplied an unusually direct explanation. In a 2019 PBS FRONTLINE interview, he said: “Every day we hit them with three things.” He also emphasized starting with “muzzle velocity.” His argument was that overwhelming the media would allow other actions to proceed without equal scrutiny.

Trump’s second administration provided early examples. NPR’s February 7, 2025 recap described simultaneous disputes involving tariffs, Gaza, deportations, appointments, and Elon Musk’s government overhaul. The president repeatedly occupied the center of the news. The effect is an almost daily sense of a new controversy: a provocative statement, an executive action, a confrontation, or a reversal, often with Trump personally commanding the cameras. That describes a recurring pattern rather than a literal count of a new scandal every day.

Such activity can create an advantage. A president can announce an action in minutes. Establishing its legality, tracing its consequences, and obtaining a remedy can take months and months. That mismatch can protect power. Even when a challenge succeeds, the public may have moved on, and the practical damage may already be difficult to reverse.

DOGE and the Watchdogs

The Department of Government Efficiency provides a revealing example. Its stated purpose was to confront waste and improve government. Yet on January 24, 2025, Trump dismissed 17 inspectors general—independent watchdogs whose responsibilities include investigating waste, fraud, and abuse.

The firings occurred without the advance congressional notice required by law. In litigation brought by eight dismissed inspectors general, a federal judge later found their removals unlawful but declined to reinstate them. Reuters’ assessment of DOGE’s first 100 days identified the contradiction between the administration’s efficiency campaign and its weakening of existing oversight institutions.

These facts do not prove DOGE was created as a diversion. It pursued substantive changes with real consequences. But its spectacle could serve a distracting function while less theatrical safeguards lost strength. The question for citizens is straightforward: If eliminating waste is the goal, why weaken independent institutions equipped to uncover it? That question should survive every new presidential announcement. Reform deserves measurable results and independent verification. Publicity cannot substitute for either.

When Repetition Makes the Extraordinary Ordinary

In “Normalizing Deviance,” I examined how institutions gradually accept departures from standards when those departures become familiar. My experience at NASA during Challenger and later on the Columbia Accident Investigation Board taught me that repeated survival can produce dangerous reassurance. Institutions may continue operating while their ability to recognize and correct risk deteriorates.

A similar danger exists in government. An unusual dismissal becomes yesterday’s news. A disputed assertion of authority becomes another lawsuit. Eventually, the public hears “another controversy” and assumes nothing can be done. Here the quagmire deepens. Too many unresolved questions can weaken the pressure to resolve any one of them.

The central concern is the cumulative effect: speed strains oversight, distraction fragments attention, and repetition lowers expectations. The process does not require every citizen to approve. Exhaustion can be enough. People may continue to object while losing confidence that objections will produce consequences.

Iran, Epstein, and the Limits of Inference

The Epstein files and military action against Iran raise a more serious question about distraction politics. The United States and Israel launched a major campaign against Iran on February 28, 2026. Reuters documented advance planning, military preparations, and national-security briefings. Those facts must be considered before assigning a domestic political motive.

A war can displace scandal coverage without having been launched to accomplish that purpose. The available evidence does not establish that Trump ordered the Iran attacks to divert attention from the Epstein files. There is, however, evidence worth examining about communications. A November 2025 research preprint found an association between increased Epstein coverage and short-term changes in Trump’s Truth Social messaging. Its author explicitly cautioned that the analysis did not establish causation. It offers a research lead, not proof of a diversionary war.

As a retired military officer, I regard the distinction as essential. Decisions that risk American lives require scrutiny of their legal authority, intelligence, objectives, and achievable end state. Scrutiny of Epstein-related records must continue alongside that work. A national-security crisis does not cancel the government’s responsibility to explain its handling of those records. The public should be capable of asking two questions at once: Is military action justified, and is the administration meeting its obligations for transparency? Neither question should erase the other.

History Offers Parallels—and a Warning

It would be too sweeping to say history has never seen anything comparable. Senator Joseph McCarthy demonstrated how recurring accusations could dominate public attention and force institutions onto the defensive. The televised McCarthy hearings in 1954 exposed his methods, damaged his standing, and preceded Senate censure. Sustained examination helped interrupt the pattern.

President Bill Clinton faced accusations that his August 1998 strikes in Afghanistan and Sudan were intended to distract from the Monica Lewinsky scandal. But the bipartisan 9/11 Commission found no reason to question his advisers’ statements that their recommendations rested on national-security considerations.

That history warns against treating suspicious timing as established motive. It also demonstrates why independent investigation matters: evidence can distinguish a legitimate concern from an unsupported accusation.

Trump’s approach combines presidential authority, direct social-media access, constant visibility, and rapid action. We need not declare it historically unmatched to recognize its capacity to exhaust oversight. The danger arises when the president’s ability to reset the conversation repeatedly exceeds the institutions’ ability to finish examining the previous action.

Finding Firm Ground

The remedy is disciplined follow-through. Congress should track investigations to completion. Journalists should revisit consequential actions after the headlines fade. Courts need compliance with their decisions. Citizens should distinguish an announcement from a lawful action and a campaign promise from a delivered benefit—including Trump’s recent pledge to give every adult American citizen $5,000 if Republicans retain control of the House and Senate, a proposal that still requires congressional approval and funding.

Opponents also need priorities. Reacting to every provocation can help sustain the very confusion they seek to challenge. Effective oversight requires a clear record of what happened, who authorized it, what authority supported it, and what consequences followed. The standard must apply across parties: Would we accept this exercise of power in our opponents’ hands?

A republic can withstand controversy when it retains the ability to establish facts, enforce boundaries, and correct mistakes. It becomes vulnerable when unresolved controversies accumulate faster than accountability can respond. The danger of a political quagmire is that those responsible may gain protection from the difficulty of untangling it. Our task is to keep asking the consequential questions until they receive answers—long after the president has introduced tomorrow’s headline.

Sources

John L. Barry. “Normalizing Deviance: When the Unacceptable Becomes Ordinary.” September 30, 2026 draft.

John L. Barry. “The Power and Peril of Distraction Politics in Modern Leadership” and “Speed and Strain: Governing at ‘Muzzle Velocity’ in Trump 2.0.” In Power & Peril, manuscript pages 33–35 and 42–44.

PBS FRONTLINE. Interview with Steve Bannon. 2019.

Domenico Montanaro. “Trump Carries Out His ‘Flood the Zone’ Strategy, Creating a Week of Whiplash.” NPR, February 7, 2025.

Reuters. “Some Senate Republicans Defend Trump’s Firing of 17 Inspectors General.” January 26, 2025.

Reuters. “Judge Will Not Reinstate US Government Watchdogs Despite Unlawful Firings.” September 24–25, 2025.

Tim Reid, Alexandra Alper, and Nathan Layne. “100 Days of DOGE: Lots of Chaos, Not So Much Efficiency.” Reuters, April 24, 2025.

Reuters. “Ahead of Strikes, Trump Was Told Iran Attack Is High Risk, High Reward.” February 28, 2026, updated March 3, 2026.

Andrew J. Peterson. “Distracting from the Epstein Files? Media Attention and Short-Run Shifts in Trump’s Truth Social Posts.” Research preprint, November 14, 2025.

U.S. Senate Historical Office. “McCarthy and Army-McCarthy Hearings.”

National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States. The 9/11 Commission Report. 2004. Chapter 4, especially pages 116–119.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

Sociologist Diane Vaughan examined this process in her 1996 book, The Challenger Launch Decision: Risky Technology, Culture, and Deviance at NASA. She called it the “normalization of deviance”: the gradual acceptance of departures from expected standards as those departures become familiar and appear manageable. Her explanation concerned organizational culture and the interpretation of risk, not simply dishonest people knowingly breaking rules.

I served at NASA as a White House Fellow during the Challenger tragedy in 1986. Seventeen years later, I served as a board member and executive director of the Columbia Accident Investigation Board in 2003. Those experiences left me with an enduring concern: institutions can possess extraordinary expertise while gradually losing the ability to recognize danger.

Today, Vaughan’s framework offers a useful lens for examining the Trump administration. The comparison is an argument about institutional behavior, not a claim that governing a republic is identical to launching a spacecraft.

The Lesson NASA Learned Twice

Before Challenger, troubling evidence about the solid rocket boosters’ O-rings had repeatedly been evaluated within a culture that continued to authorize flight. Successful missions reinforced confidence in the process. The absence of catastrophe helped make recurring danger surrounding the O-rings seem acceptable.

Columbia revealed another version of that institutional failure. Foam shedding from the large external tank and possibly hitting the Orbiter on launch had become familiar. NASA’s subsequent lessons emphasized the dangers of organizational silence and normalization of deviance. Familiarity had weakened the force of warning signs, particularly regarding the foam as a danger to the Orbiter.

Now regarding the Trump Administration, the constitutional equivalent of “Normalizing Deviance” is accepting repeated departures from Constitutional norms and accountability because government continues functioning. Elections still occur. Congress still meets. Courts still issue decisions. Yet the restraints that make those institutions meaningful can weaken beneath the surface.

When Breaches of Accountability Becomes Normalized

Pardons: Consider presidential pardons. The Constitution grants presidents substantial clemency authority. The question is how that authority is used and what conduct it encourages. On January 20, 2025, Trump issued sweeping pardons and commutations for January 6 defendants, including people convicted of violence against police. The administration described the action as correcting injustice. My concern is the precedent: when political loyalty helps erase consequences for attacking the machinery of constitutional government, future actors may conclude that loyalty offers protection.

IG Removal: The removal of inspectors general from different government departments presents a related problem. These officials investigate waste, fraud, and abuse within government. A federal judge found that the dismissals of eight watchdogs challenged in court were unlawful, although she declined to reinstate them. Presidents may replace officials through lawful procedures. But treating independent scrutiny as disloyalty weakens an institution’s capacity to correct itself. Accountability becomes conditional on the approval of those being scrutinized.

Confusing Power of the Purse: The same danger arises when Congress permits its spending authority to erode. On September 29, 2026, the Government Accountability Office concluded that Trump’s latest rescission proposals did not authorize withholding appropriations beyond their expiration. Congress’s power of the purse is a constitutional responsibility, not an administrative suggestion.

When an Exception Becomes a Governing Practice: The administration sought to cancel $810 million Congress had approved for programs including refugee assistance, immigrant services, community conflict resolution, climate-related work, and health research. It froze the money just before the September 30 fiscal-year deadline, seeking to let the funding expire without congressional approval—a tactic called a “pocket rescission.”

The administration used this tactic against foreign aid in 2025 and now largely against domestic programs. That expansion illustrates normalization of deviance: an exception becomes a precedent, gradually weakening Congress’s constitutional control over spending.

Election Maneuvering: Missouri’s congressional map dispute illustrates the danger of making electoral rules serve immediate political advantage. Republicans adopted a Trump-backed map aimed at gaining another House seat. Citizen petitioners invoked Missouri’s referendum process. On September 25, the Supreme Court again blocked use of the new map, leaving the previous districts in place for the 2026 election. The dispute concerned the referendum process and election administration; the Court did not announce a general prohibition on partisan gerrymandering.

Gerrymandering has been practiced by both parties. That history should prompt reform, not resignation. When manipulation becomes routine, citizens can begin to believe that representation is something politicians arrange for themselves.

Election Day, November 3, will test more than party strength. Lawful votes must be counted, disputes must be resolved through evidence and authorized procedures, and certified results must be respected. Confidence in elections requires consistent standards, including when those standards produce an unwelcome outcome.

Presidential Clemency: The administration’s handling of Trump’s IRS lawsuit raises an especially troubling question about equal treatment. A May 19, 2026 release signed by Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche purported to bar government tax claims involving Trump, named family members, businesses, and affiliates for past tax years. The underlying question remains: should an administration be able to negotiate extraordinary personal protections for the president from agencies he controls?

USG Private Sector Investment: Government’s investment in Intel requires a more qualified judgment. Intel announced an $8.9 billion federal investment for a 9.9 percent equity stake in August 2025. Government ownership has historical precedents, and domestic semiconductor production has genuine national-security value. The investment itself does not establish corruption. It does, however, demand transparent terms, clear legal authority, and independent oversight. Industrial policy becomes dangerous when businesses believe access to presidential favor matters more than publicly defined standards.

Tariffs: On February 20, 2026, the Supreme Court held that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act did not authorize the president to impose tariffs. That decision addressed a particular statute; it did not eliminate every presidential tariff authority. The lesson is that urgency cannot manufacture powers Congress has not granted. Lawful innovation is possible. Treating legal boundaries as obstacles to be bypassed is something else.

When Falsehoods Become Background Noise: Repeated falsehoods provide another example of normalization of deviance. In his September 27, 2026 analysis, CNN fact-checker Daniel Dale reported documenting more than 8,500 false claims before discontinuing his effort to check every Trump statement in 2020. But his assessment extends into Trump’s second administration in 2025–2026. Dale describes continued inaccurate claims about prices, inflation, investment, and other subjects, along with repeated assertions that persist after correction. He also observes that administration spokespeople now routinely defend statements contradicted by evidence.

The danger extends beyond individual claims. A constant stream of inaccurate statements can overwhelm those responsible for checking them. What once demanded an explanation becomes background noise. Vaughan’s framework helps explain how standards erode: repetition makes a departure familiar, and familiarity makes it easier to tolerate. When officials defend the president’s statements regardless of their accuracy, political loyalty displaces the obligation to tell the public the truth.

A republic depends on citizens being able to evaluate leaders against a shared factual record. When unsupported claims are accepted—or excused because they serve a preferred political outcome—accountability weakens. Journalists, public officials, and citizens must insist on accuracy regardless of party. Repetition does not turn a falsehood into a fact.

Personal Brand: Some departures appear symbolic. Their cumulative message still matters. Trump’s name or image has been attached to the Institute of Peace, national park passes, the Gold Card immigration program, and announced plans for a Trump-class battleship. Palm Beach International Airporthas been renamed for him. A commemorative coin has been approved, while a $250 bill has been considered. An announced ship class is not an operational fleet, and a proposed banknote is not circulating currency. The attempted Trump-Kennedy Center renaming encountered judicial resistance, including a September order blocking renewed efforts to place his name on the venue.

Naming public institutions after presidents has a long history. Repeatedly branding public assets around a sitting president raises a different concern: the suggestion that the government belongs to its temporary occupant.

Stock Market Advantage: The boundary between public authority and private profit faces another test through Truth API, a service offered by Trump Media & Technology Group. According to an August 14 Washington Post report, customers—primarily high-frequency trading firms—were paying roughly $60,000 to $100,000 per month for faster, machine-readable access to posts from leading Truth Social accounts. Presidential announcements can move financial markets, making even fractions of a second valuable.

The Intercept and the Freedom of the Press Foundation sued, alleging that preferential access to presidential announcements violates the First Amendment. Other experts raised potential securities-law concerns. These are allegations, not established violations. Trump Media maintains that the service delivers already-public posts fractionally faster, rather than providing unpublished information.

That distinction matters legally. The institutional concern remains: a company in which the president has a financial interest is selling a speed advantage in accessing announcements whose market significance derives from his public office. Normalization of deviance advances when an extraordinary conflict becomes accepted as an ordinary business opportunity. Presidential communication should serve the public interest, without creating incentives to turn public authority into private revenue.

Hatch Act: Cabinet officials have also faced Hatch Act alleged violations involving Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s and Pete Hegseths intervention in congressional races. The president and vice president are exempt from the Hatch Act, but Cabinet officials remain subject to its applicable restrictions. When these actions by senior officials in government accumulate without credible resolution, the public can come to regard the boundary between governing and campaigning as optional.

A Congressional Majority Is Not a Cure.

If Democrats win control of either chamber in November 2026, they will gain important oversight tools. A House majority could pursue records, hold hearings, and investigate conflicts of interest. A Senate majority would have additional influence over nominations. Neither outcome automatically reverses institutional decline.

Investigations should establish facts and lead to durable remedies. They should not become permanent campaign programming. Impeachment, if considered, must rest on evidence and constitutional standards. Party control alone supplies neither.

The 2028 Presidential election will intensify pressures on both parties. Businesses will face uncertainty when trade, regulation, and federal investment appear tied to changing political relationships. Restoring predictability requires rules that endure across administrations.

Democrats must show they can combine oversight with a credible governing agenda. Republicans must decide whether defending constitutional restraints matters when their own president tests them. Both parties should ask the same question: would we accept this power in our opponents’ hands?

The Warning We Must Hear

Vaughan’s lesson is unsettling because institutions can normalize danger while people believe they are doing their jobs. The pattern of “Normalizing Deviance” becomes especially consequential when lawmakers defend executive overreach because their own party controls the White House. Every power excused today can be inherited by tomorrow’s opponent.

A constitutional republic needs more than written protections. It needs officials who enforce them, lawmakers who defend their responsibilities, courts whose judgments are respected, and citizens who refuse to confuse repetition with legitimacy.

This is a central concern of my book, Power & Peril: strength requires judgment, and authority requires restraint. Challenger and Columbia taught us that yesterday’s survival does not prove today’s safety. The warning for America is equally clear: the fact that our institutions have endured repeated strain does not mean they can endure unlimited strain. We must correct dangerous challenges to our Constitution and resist common practice departures before familiar and deviations persuade us that corrections are unnecessary and departures are normalized.

Sources

Vaughan, Diane. The Challenger Launch Decision: Risky Technology, Culture, and Deviance at NASA. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Associated Press. “Trump Grants Sweeping Pardon of Jan. 6 Defendants, Including Rioters Who Violently Attacked Police.” January 20, 2025.

The Washington Post. “Federal Judge Declines to Reinstate Inspectors General Fired by Trump.” September 25, 2025.

U.S. Government Accountability Office. “Impoundment Control Act of 1974: Review of the President’s Special Message of September 25, 2026.” B-338788, September 29, 2026.

Dillard, Jarrell. “Democrats Fail to Stop Trump from Canceling $810M in Funds Approved by Congress.” The Washington Post, September 30, 2026.

U.S. Government Accountability Office. “What Is a ‘Pocket Rescission’ and Is It Legal?” August 6, 2025.

Reuters. “US Supreme Court Bars Republican-Drawn Map in Missouri for Third Time.” September 25, 2026.

Reuters. “Trump-IRS Settlement ‘Forever’ Bars Audits into Tax Claims for Trump, His Family.” May 19, 2026.

Intel Corporation. “Intel and Trump Administration Reach Historic Agreement to Accelerate American Technology and Manufacturing Leadership.” August 22, 2025.

U.S. Supreme Court. Learning Resources, Inc. v. Trump. Nos. 24-1287 and 25-250, decided February 20, 2026.

Dale, Daniel. “I Started Fact-Checking Trump 10 Years Ago. Here Are 15 Things I’ve Learned.” CNN, September 27, 2026.

Sky News. “All the Things Donald Trump Has Put His Name On—from Buildings to Battleships.” March 27, 2026.

PBS News. “Trump Commemorative Gold Coin Approved for U.S. Mint to Produce for America’s 250th.” March 19, 2026.

Associated Press. “Treasury Secretary Bessent Confirms Limited Steps Toward a $250 Bill Featuring Donald Trump.” May 28, 2026.

Associated Press. “Judge Blocks Kennedy Center Board from Putting Trump’s Name on the Building or Grounds in Any Way.” September 15, 2026.

Beggin, Riley, and Cat Zakrzewski. “Truth Social’s Sale of Fast Access to Trump Posts Draws Legal Concerns.” The Washington Post, August 14, 2026.

The Washington Post. “RFK Jr. Faces Hatch Act Complaint After Intervening in Congressional Races.” July 14, 2026.

The Steady State. “The Steady State Files Hatch Act Complaint Against Defense Secretary Hegseth Over Iowa Campaign Fundraiser.” September 11, 2026.

U.S. Office of Special Counsel. “OSC Announces Updates to Hatch Act Enforcement; Rescinds Past Advisory Opinions.” April 25, 2025.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

Supreme Court justices are sometimes incorrectly called “Circuit Judges” when handling emergency requests. Their proper title in this role is “Circuit Justice.” Each of the nine justices is assigned to one or more of the nation’s federal judicial circuits that covers all 50 States. A Circuit Justice receives emergency applications from cases arising within the states covered by that circuit.

Justice Brett Kavanaugh, for example, is assigned to the Eighth Circuit, which includes Missouri. That is why he received the emergency request concerning Missouri’s disputed congressional map.

A Circuit Justice may deny an application, issue a temporary administrative order, or refer the matter to the full Supreme Court’s “Shadow Docket”. The system is intended to help the Court respond rapidly when time is short. But the combination of an individual justice’s authority, the full Court’s authority, and the shadow docket’s limited explanations can leave judges, government officials, and citizens uncertain about what the Court has decided.

Missouri’s 2026 redistricting dispute demonstrates the problem.

Two Maps and Conflicting Orders

At President Donald Trump’s urging, Missouri’s Republican-controlled government adopted a new congressional map. The new boundaries could have helped Republicans win seven of the state’s eight seats in the U.S. House of Representatives. Under the previous map, Democrats had a reasonable chance of retaining two seats.

People Not Politicians, an anti-gerrymandering organization, challenged the new map. The group argued that Missouri voters should have the opportunity to decide through a referendum whether the map should take effect.

The Missouri Supreme Court eventually ordered the state to use its previous 2022 map for the November 2026 elections. Missouri Secretary of State Denny Hoskins, a Republican, then asked the U.S. Supreme Court to overturn that ruling and use the new 2025 map.

Because Missouri is part of the Eighth Circuit, the emergency application went first to Justice Kavanaugh in his role as Circuit Justice. He declined to block the Missouri Supreme Court’s decision. At that moment, the situation appeared clear: Missouri would use its old congressional map.

Less than thirty minutes later, however, U.S. District Judge Stephen Clark issued an order in a separate federal case directing Hoskins to use the new, Republican-favored map.

Missouri’s chief election official now appeared to face two conflicting judicial commands. The Missouri Supreme Court said to use the old map. A federal district judge said to use the new one. Kavanaugh had left the state court’s ruling in place, but his action did not include a detailed opinion explaining how it affected the separate federal case.

This was more than a debate among lawyers. Missouri was approaching its deadline for finalizing ballots. Mail-in ballots were scheduled to be sent to voters beginning September 19. Election officials, candidates, political parties, and voters needed to know which district boundaries applied.

Two days later, the full Supreme Court’s “Shadow Docket” temporarily blocked the new map. The justices did not explain their reasoning, did not show which Justics voted how and no dissents were publicly recorded. Missouri officials then agreed to use the old map while the litigation continued.¹

The full Court had provided an immediate answer. But it had not clearly explained the law behind that answer.

What Is a Circuit Justice?

The federal court system is divided into regional circuits. Every Supreme Court justice is assigned to at least one of them. Justice Kavanaugh covers both the Sixth and Eighth Circuits. Justice Neil Gorsuch covers the Tenth Circuit, which includes Colorado. Other justices cover different regions.

The Circuit Justice system has practical value. Someone must be available to review urgent requests involving executions, deportations, election deadlines, government programs, and other time-sensitive matters. Assigning a justice to each circuit gives litigants a clear point of entry to the Supreme Court.

But a Circuit Justice is not another level of lower-court judge. The justice remains a member of the Supreme Court and acts under the Court’s rules. Depending on the situation, the justice can act individually or refer an application to all nine justices.

This produces several possible stages:

1. A party submits an emergency application to the justice assigned to that circuit.

2. The Circuit Justice may issue a brief administrative order to preserve the situation while the Court considers the request.

3. The justice may deny the application without referring it to the full Court.

4. The justice may refer the application to the full Court for a collective decision.

5. After an individual justice acts, the losing party may sometimes renew the application to another justice, although such requests are normally referred to the full Court.

To lawyers familiar with Supreme Court procedure, these distinctions may be understandable. To the public, however, each action can look like “the Supreme Court has ruled.” The distinction between Justice Kavanaugh acting alone and the full Supreme Court acting together is rarely obvious—especially when neither provides a detailed explanation.

What Is the Shadow Docket?

The “shadow docket” is the unofficial name for Supreme Court rulings issued outside the Court’s normal process. The justices generally prefer the term “emergency docket.”

On the normal docket, a case may take months or years. Both sides submit extensive briefs. The Court hears oral arguments. The justices deliberate and usually publish majority, concurring, and dissenting opinions. Those opinions explain the legal reasoning and generally identify how each justice voted.

Emergency cases move much faster. The written arguments may be limited, oral argument is uncommon, and the Court may issue only a short order. The order may not identify the author, disclose the vote, or explain the legal standard applied.

There is nothing automatically improper about this process. Some legal questions cannot wait. An execution may be hours away, a person may face immediate deportation, or an election deadline may be approaching.

The danger arises when a procedure designed for temporary emergencies is used to decide major questions about presidential power, constitutional rights, or elections. Although the orders are technically temporary, their consequences may be difficult to reverse.

How the Two Roles Create Confusion

Combining the “Circuit Justice” system with the “Shadow Docket” can create four kinds of confusion.

First, the public may not know who made the decision. A news report may say that “the Supreme Court acted” when the order actually came from one Circuit Justice. Conversely, an application addressed to a particular justice may have been referred to and decided by the full Court.

Second, a short order may not explain whether the Court has temporarily preserved the existing situation or reached a broader conclusion about the law. Lower courts must decide how much guidance the order provides for the continuing case.

Third, the same dispute may involve state courts, federal district courts, federal appeals courts, an individual Circuit Justice, and the full Supreme Court. Each may have different authority and may be considering different legal questions. Missouri’s dispute became especially confusing because the state and federal cases were proceeding at the same time.

Fourth, it may be unclear whether an emergency order should serve as precedent. Justice Neil Gorsuch has emphasized that lower courts must follow the Supreme Court’s emergency decisions, other Justices disagree. That is understandable: lower courts cannot disregard the nation’s highest court. But judges cannot apply a legal rule with confidence if the Supreme Court has not clearly stated what the rule is.

The Court cannot demand precision from lower courts while communicating through judicial shorthand.

Trump’s Increasing Use of Emergency Appeals

Use of the emergency docket increased sharply during Trump’s first administration. His administration filed 41 emergency applications in four years. The George W. Bush and Obama administrations together filed only eight during the previous sixteen years.²

The strategy accelerated after Trump returned to office in January 2025. During the first five months, his administration filed 19 emergency applications—the same number the Biden administration filed over four years. The Court granted Trump complete or partial relief in ten of the first thirteen cases it decided.³

These figures do not prove that every application was unjustified. Presidents have the right to appeal lower-court decisions, and federal judges can exceed their authority.

But frequency changes the nature of the process. An exceptional procedure can become a method of governing: announce a policy, challenge any court order blocking it, seek immediate relief from the Supreme Court, and litigate the full case later.

Missouri adds another dimension. Trump urged state lawmakers to adopt a map that could improve his party’s chances of controlling Congress. When the resulting dispute reached the courts, the emergency process produced several rulings without a full explanation of how the state and federal cases fit together.

The Supreme Court cannot eliminate its emergency docket, nor should it abandon the Circuit Justice system. Genuine emergencies require a way to obtain rapid judicial review.

But when a case involves an election, presidential power, constitutional rights, or conflicting court orders, the Supreme Court should provide at least a short explanation identifying:

• whether an individual justice or the full Court acted;

• the legal standard used;

• the situation the order is intended to preserve;

• the limits of the ruling;

• whether lower courts should treat it as precedent; and

• how each justice voted.

These safeguards would not prevent rapid action. They would help lower courts and public officials understand exactly what the Supreme Court expects them to do.

The Missouri controversy shows that confusion can arise not only from the outcome of an emergency ruling but also from the process used to reach it. One Circuit Justice may act first. The full Court may act later. Meanwhile, state and federal judges may issue separate orders addressing different parts of the dispute.

Final Ruling

On September 25, the Supreme Court stepped in again. This time it issued a five-page opinion. The Court blocked the appeals court’s ruling and told the lower federal courts not to prevent Missouri from using the 2022 map or require the 2025 map. The justices explained that their September 10 order had already left the 2022 map in place unless they ordered a change. Switching maps after voting began, they said, could cause serious disorder.

As of September 27, the 2022 map remains in place for the November congressional election unless the Supreme Court changes its order. The September 25 decision is an emergency ruling, not a final judgment on every legal question in the dispute.

A Need for Speed—and Clarity

The Supreme Court needs an emergency docket. Some decisions cannot wait. But President Trump’s administrations have turned to it far more often than earlier administrations did. When major questions about executive power, constitutional rights, and elections are repeatedly decided through urgent requests, temporary orders can have lasting effects before the courts fully examine the law.

Missouri shows the danger of unclear instructions. The Supreme Court’s brief September 10 order left room for further confusion among the lower courts. Its September 25 opinion finally explained which map should be used and why. The lesson is straightforward: when the Court acts quickly on a constitutional question, it should explain its decision clearly enough for other courts and the public to follow. Emergency justice must not create another emergency.

1. Justin Jouvenal, “Supreme Court Again Blocks New Missouri Congressional Map Favoring GOP,” Washington Post, September 10, 2026. ↩

2. “U.S. Supreme Court Expands Its ‘Emergency’ Docket—and Trump’s Power Too,” Reuters, October 2, 2025. ↩

3. John Kruzel and Andrew Chung, “Trump Finds Victories at the Supreme Court in Rush of Emergency Cases,” Reuters, June 13, 2025.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

The fortunes of John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, and Cornelius Vanderbilt grew from enterprises that changed America. Oil, steel, and railroads created jobs, joined markets, and helped build a modern nation. But size brought power beyond the marketplace. A railroad could influence which towns prospered. A trust could make competition difficult. An industrialist who financed a politician could expect an audience that an ordinary voter might never receive.

That is why some Americans called them robber barons. The phrase did not erase their achievements. It expressed a fear that private success had grown into public authority without public accountability.

The technology billionaires of our own era have built valuable enterprises, too. Their products connect families, help businesses reach customers, and place extraordinary tools in our hands. Yet a platform that controls how information travels can wield influence as consequential as a railroad that once controlled how goods traveled. Add a personal fortune capable of financing political campaigns, and the old question returns with new force.

In an essay published by NSL4A, “America Doesn’t Have Kings, It Has Billionaires,” Robert Bruce Adolph calls today’s wealthy power brokers a “New Nobility.” His language is deliberately provocative, and his essay makes allegations that require separate evidence before they can be treated as fact. But its central question deserves attention: What happens when money opens political doors that remain closed to most citizens?

The answer begins with recognizing what today’s rules actually permit. An individual may contribute no more than $3,500 per election directly to a federal candidate in the 2025–26 cycle. The same individual may give unlimited sums to a super PAC that spends independently to help elect that candidate. Super PACs must report their donors, but money can also move through other organizations in ways that make its original source harder for voters to trace. Direct donations and independent spending are legally distinct. Their political effects can be much harder to separate.

We should be precise about the law. The Supreme Court’s 2010 Citizens United decision protected independent political expenditures by corporations and unions. It did not authorize unlimited direct contributions from corporations to candidates. That distinction matters when we consider reforms. It also leaves a practical concern: A voter may know that a candidate cannot accept an unlimited personal check while watching a wealthy supporter spend far more to help put that candidate in office.

This is where the Gilded Age offers more than an analogy. Americans did not solve its problems by waiting for industrialists to become less ambitious or more humble. They changed the rules. The Pendleton Act of 1883 began replacing political patronage with merit-based federal hiring. The Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 addressed restraints on competition. The Tillman Act of 1907 barred corporate contributions to federal campaigns. In 1913, the Seventeenth Amendment gave voters the power to elect senators directly. None was a complete cure. Each recognized that institutions must be strong enough to govern powerful people.

Our reforms should be equally practical. Voters ought to be able to identify the original funders of major political advertising promptly, including spending routed through intermediary groups. Rules against coordination between campaigns and supposedly independent organizations need credible enforcement. Congress should consider ways to help candidates build campaigns from many smaller contributions, reducing their dependence on a few immense fortunes. Any proposal to limit independent spending must also reckon honestly with the First Amendment and the Supreme Court’s decisions. A durable reform needs to work under law, not merely sound satisfying in a speech.

Money’s influence also extends beyond election day. In her recent Atlantic article, “MAGA Is Making the World Safe for Corruption,” Anne Applebaum argues that personal connections and private interests are increasingly shaping American foreign policy. Her subject is diplomacy, but the underlying question is familiar: Can citizens tell when a public decision serves the country and when it serves someone with privileged access?

That question arises in the reporting about celebrations following Donald Trump Jr.’s wedding. He and his wife confirmed that Russian businessman Umar Kremlev hosted two nights of post-wedding festivities, which they described as a generous gift from a friend. The ceremony itself was private and separate. The gift does not prove an exchange of political favors. It does illustrate why clear disclosure matters when someone close to a president accepts costly hospitality from a foreign figure with political connections. Facts should establish the answer, rather than either automatic suspicion or automatic dismissal.

Perhaps great wealth does inflate some egos. History gives us no reliable way to legislate modesty. It gives us a better assignment: build safeguards that do not depend on it.

The first Gilded Age left America with powerful companies and lasting innovations. It also prompted reforms that strengthened the republic. We can welcome the achievements of today’s builders while insisting that political donations be transparent, campaign rules be enforceable, and public office remain accountable to the public. The question is not whether billionaires may participate in democracy. Of course they may. The question is whether the rules allow their wealth to count so much more than everyone else’s citizenship.

Sources:

Adolph, Robert Bruce. “America Doesn’t Have Kings, It Has Billionaires.” NSL4A, August 10, 2026.

Applebaum, Anne. “MAGA Is Making the World Safe for Corruption.” The Atlantic, September 14, 2026.

Colvin, Jill. “Donald Trump Jr.’s Wedding Celebration Was Partially Funded by Russian Oligarch, the Couple Confirms.” Associated Press, September 14, 2026.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

Has America’s threshold for political shock changed so much that a scandal like Watergate would no longer have the same impact it did in the 1970s? That may be the real danger.

When the Watergate scandal unfolded, Americans were shocked—not just by the break-in at the Watergate complex, but by the growing evidence that people inside the White House had abused presidential power and then tried to cover it up. As new facts emerged, public concern grew. Investigative journalists continued reporting, Congress held months of hearings, the courts enforced the law, and eventually members of President Richard Nixon’s own party concluded that protecting the Constitution was more important than protecting a president. Watergate ultimately became more than a political scandal. It became a demonstration that America’s constitutional system of checks and balances could work, even during a national crisis.

Today, however, the political and media environment is very different. Americans are exposed to an endless stream of breaking news, political controversy, social media debates, and competing narratives. Major stories that once dominated the news for weeks now compete with dozens of other headlines every day. Yesterday’s crisis is often replaced by today’s controversy before the public has had time to fully understand either one.

As a result, our threshold for political shock appears to have risen dramatically. Behavior that would have stunned the nation fifty years ago may now be viewed as just another chapter in an ongoing cycle of political conflict. It is not necessarily that Americans care less about ethics or the rule of law. Rather, many have become accustomed to constant controversy. Extraordinary events increasingly compete for attention in an environment where almost everything is presented as urgent.

If that threshold has changed, the implications extend far beyond the media. The concern is not simply that another Watergate might receive less television coverage. The deeper question is whether our ability to hold public officials accountable has weakened as the pace of information has accelerated.

When public attention moves on too quickly, accountability becomes more difficult. Political leaders may conclude that surviving a scandal depends less on answering difficult questions than on delaying investigations, creating distractions, or simply waiting for the next news cycle. Time itself becomes a political strategy.

The fragmentation of today’s media environment also makes accountability more challenging. During Watergate, most Americans received information from a relatively small number of trusted news organizations. While people certainly disagreed, they were generally reacting to the same basic set of facts.

Today, Americans often consume news from entirely different sources that present events in dramatically different ways. Social media algorithms reinforce existing beliefs, making it harder for the country to reach a common understanding of what actually happened. Without a shared set of facts, public accountability becomes more difficult to achieve.

There is another important difference. Watergate unfolded over more than two years. It required patience from journalists, investigators, lawmakers, and the public. Today’s information environment rewards speed rather than persistence. Stories rise and fall within hours. The constant flow of new information makes it difficult for any single issue to hold the nation’s attention long enough for a complete investigation to unfold.

This may be the greatest change of all. The issue is not whether Watergate would still be considered illegal or unethical today. Abuse of power, obstruction of justice, and violations of the law remain serious regardless of the era. The concern is that our collective threshold for outrage has risen so high that conduct once viewed as a constitutional crisis risks becoming just another headline in an endless stream of headlines.

History shows that democracies rarely weaken because of one scandal alone. They weaken gradually when citizens begin to accept extraordinary events as ordinary, when outrage becomes fatigue, and when confidence in public accountability slowly erodes.

The lasting lesson of Watergate was not simply that a president resigned. It was that democratic institutions—an independent press, Congress, the courts, and ultimately leaders from both political parties—worked together to hold the nation’s highest office accountable.

That lesson remains just as important today. The real danger is not whether another Watergate would dominate the news for twelve hours, twelve days, or twelve months. The real danger is that Americans may begin to believe that no scandal, no matter how serious, can overcome the speed, volume, and polarization of today’s information environment.

History reminds us that democracy depends on more than elections and laws. It depends on citizens who remain engaged long after the headlines fade. If our threshold for political shock continues to rise, the greatest risk is not that scandals will disappear—it is that we may stop recognizing them as extraordinary when they occur.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn More: See my new Book, Power & Peril, on Amazon or my website: johnlbarry.org

The numbers are troubling. Freedom House reports that global freedom declined in 2025 for the 20th consecutive year. Fifty-four countries became less free, while only 35 improved, and just 21 percent of the world’s people now live in countries Freedom House rates as Free. The V-Dem Institute reaches a similar conclusion. At the end of 2025, it counted 92 autocracies and 87 democracies. Nearly three-quarters of the world’s population—74 percent—lives under autocratic government, while only 7 percent lives in countries V-Dem classifies as liberal democracies.

But history rarely moves permanently in one direction. Could democracy be starting to fight back? That question was at the center of a recent Aspen Ideas discussion moderated by Fareed Zakaria and featuring political scientist Francis Fukuyama, former Canadian deputy prime minister Chrystia Freeland, and New York Times columnist David French. Their discussion raises a larger question for all of us: After years in which autocracy and populism seemed to have the momentum, are we beginning to turn the tide?

Flashback: Democracy Was Supposed to Have Won

When the Berlin Wall fell in 1989 and the Soviet Union collapsed two years later, democracy appeared triumphant. Fascism had been defeated in World War II, Soviet communism had collapsed, and Western democracy seemed to be the last major political system standing.

Francis Fukuyama captured the optimism of that moment in his famous 1989 essay, “The End of History?” and later in his book The End of History and the Last Man. Fukuyama was not arguing that wars and political struggles would disappear. Rather, he asked whether liberal democracy had emerged as the most successful form of government because its great twentieth-century ideological competitors had failed.

But history had another surprise waiting: the authoritarian challenge returned. China demonstrated that an authoritarian state could achieve remarkable economic growth while maintaining one-party political control. Russia returned to increasingly centralized authoritarian rule, while within democracies themselves populist movements began challenging political elites and established institutions.

The attraction of the strongman is not difficult to understand. Democracy can be painfully slow, while autocracy promises speed. Why debate when a leader can decide? Why tolerate political roadblocks when somebody can simply get things done? That is the enduring temptation of authoritarianism.

The “Museum of Wretched Ideas”

David French acknowledged something defenders of democracy sometimes hesitate to admit: some criticisms of modern democratic societies are legitimate. Communities have weakened, participation in civic organizations has declined or leveled off, and government can seem distant, bureaucratic, and unable to solve basic problems.

But recognizing democracy’s weaknesses is very different from deciding that authoritarianism is the answer. French offered a memorable description of what can happen next: frustrated societies can begin wandering through a “museum of wretched ideas,” rediscovering ideas that history has already tested. He pointed to renewed interest in communism among some young people, protectionism, antisemitism, anti-immigrant sentiment, and the return of major land warfare in Europe. History teaches a simple lesson: old ideas do not become good ideas simply because we have forgotten why they failed.

Democracy’s Achilles’ Heel

Fukuyama identified what may be democracy’s greatest weakness today: Can democratic governments still get things done? The rule of law is essential because it prevents leaders from exercising unlimited power. But add enough regulations, lawsuits, bureaucratic procedures, interest groups, and institutional veto points, and something strange can happen: the protections designed to safeguard democracy can make government unable to act.

Fukuyama calls this “vetocracy”—a system with so many opportunities to block action that stopping government becomes easier than governing. He developed the concept extensively in his book Political Order and Political Decay. During the Aspen discussion, he returned to the same problem: democracies need the rule of law, but they can accumulate so many laws, procedures, and veto points that they lose the ability to build and accomplish things.

That distinction is critical because rule of law does not require rule by endless process. A democracy that protects individual freedom but cannot build infrastructure, provide housing, educate children, control its borders consistent with law, manage its finances, or provide public safety will eventually lose public confidence. People do not have to prefer dictatorship; they only have to conclude that democracy no longer works. The answer to authoritarian efficiency, therefore, cannot merely be democratic virtue. It must also be democratic competence.

Perhaps We Need Better Language

There is another problem—one of language. The term “liberal democracy” can create confusion in the United States because liberal is commonly associated with the political left. But liberal democracy does not mean Democratic Party government. Traditionally, it means representative democracy combined with individual rights, rule of law, independent institutions, and limits on government power.

Perhaps we need a clearer term. I would call it “Balanced Democracy”: a system that combines majority rule with minority rights, popular sovereignty with legal restraints, strong leadership with institutional checks, and political competition with peaceful transfers of power. The United States can have a presidential system, while Britain and Canada can have parliamentary systems. Other nations can organize their governments differently because the essential principle is the same: no leader, political party, institution, or temporary majority should possess unlimited power. Democracy supplies legitimacy, law supplies boundaries, and institutions provide balance.

Could 2026 Be a Turning Point?

Chrystia Freeland offered perhaps the most optimistic idea of the Aspen discussion. She suggested that historians might someday look back at the spring of 2026 as a period when democracy began fighting back. That is an intriguing possibility, but the global evidence does not yet show that democracy has reversed its decline. V-Dem reports that 44 countries were undergoing autocratization in 2025, while Freedom House recorded another year of declining global freedom.

There are, however, reasons for hope. Freedom House found that of the 87 countries it rated Free in 2005, 76—more than 85 percent—remained Free throughout the next two decades. Democracies, once firmly established, have proven remarkably durable. Bolivia, Fiji, and Malawi also moved from Partly Free to Free in 2025, reflecting improvements that included competitive elections, greater judicial independence, and stronger rule of law.

Democracy therefore has an important advantage: the ability to correct itself. Authoritarian governments can move quickly because fewer institutions can stop their leaders, but that strength can become a weakness. When an authoritarian leader makes a serious mistake, there may be few people or institutions capable of correcting it. Democracy’s arguments and failures take place in public, which can look messy, but public disagreement, competitive elections, independent courts, and peaceful transfers of power also give democratic societies ways to correct mistakes without destroying the system.

Ukraine: Democracy’s Hidden Strength

Freeland pointed particularly to Ukraine. Ukraine’s struggle is first and foremost about sovereignty and national survival, but it also presents a contrast between two political systems: Vladimir Putin’s centralized authoritarian Russia and an imperfect but pluralistic Ukrainian democracy defending its independence.

Ukraine demonstrates something important about free societies. An authoritarian government can order people to obey, while a democracy can give citizens a sense that the country belongs to them. That creates something difficult to measure but enormously important in war and peace: ownership. Citizens who believe their government ultimately belongs to them have a reason to defend not simply their territory but their political system.

The China Question

Freeland also raised what may be the most important long-term challenge. It may not be Western populism; it may be China. She warned that the world might someday reach Fukuyama’s “end of history,” only to discover that the winning model was not liberal democracy but the Chinese model.

China has demonstrated that one-party government can coexist, at least for an extended period, with enormous economic development and technological advancement. That means democracies cannot win this contest simply by criticizing authoritarianism; they must outperform it. Democracies must show that free societies can build, educate, innovate, defend themselves, enforce laws, protect individual rights, and solve difficult problems.

More Democracy, Not Less

David French offered another important insight: American democracy also suffers when genuine political competition disappears. When one party dominates a state or congressional district for years, elections may provide less pressure for political leaders to listen, change, compromise, and improve.

Competition disciplines political parties just as competition disciplines businesses. The answer to democracy’s problems therefore may not be less democracy; it may be more genuine democratic competition.

Flash Forward: Democracy Must Earn the Future

So, has democracy turned the tide? Not yet—but neither does the evidence justify believing that authoritarian victory is inevitable. Fukuyama’s observation during the Aspen discussion may provide the best summary: “The game is not over.”

History suggests that democracy advances and retreats in waves. Political scientist Samuel Huntington famously described the democratic expansion that began in the 1970s as democracy’s “third wave,” while V-Dem describes the current period as a “third wave of autocratization.” The mistake after the Cold War was believing democracy’s victory was permanent; the mistake today would be believing its defeat is inevitable.

Democracy is not self-sustaining. Constitutions work only when leaders respect their limits and citizens insist that they do, and democracies cannot survive indefinitely by arguing only that their values are superior. They must demonstrate that democracy works. That means protecting the rule of law while reducing unnecessary government paralysis, protecting individual freedom while rebuilding communities, encouraging political competition rather than political monopoly, and proving that strong leadership and strong institutions are not opposites.

The great contest of the twenty-first century may therefore be more demanding than simply democracy versus autocracy. The real question may be: Can democracy combine freedom with effectiveness better than autocracy can combine power with prosperity? The contest is still underway, and history offers one final warning: the tide does not turn by itself.

Sources:

V-Dem Institute, Democracy Report 2026: Unraveling the Democratic Era?, 10th ed. (Gothenburg: University of Gothenburg, 2026).

Yana Gorokhovskaia, Cathryn Grothe, and Amy Slipowitz, Freedom in the World 2026: The Growing Shadow of Autocracy (Washington, DC: Freedom House, 2026).

Francis Fukuyama, “The End of History?” The National Interest, no. 16 (Summer 1989): 3–18; Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: Free Press, 1992).

Francis Fukuyama, Political Order and Political Decay: From the Industrial Revolution to the Globalization of Democracy (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014), chap. 34, “America the Vetocracy.”

Samuel P. Huntington, The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1991).

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

The United States entered the war with Iran with military capabilities that commanders during the Balkan wars of the 1990s could scarcely have imagined. American forces can find and destroy targets with remarkable precision. Satellites, stealth aircraft, cruise missiles, drones, and intelligence systems give commanders options that did not exist a generation ago.

American forces have again demonstrated their extraordinary ability to apply military power. But wars are not ultimately judged by the number of targets destroyed. They are judged by whether military action produces the political result for which the war was fought.

That distinction has become increasingly important in Iran. Six months into the conflict, Iran has suffered enormous military and economic damage, yet the war continues. The Strait of Hormuz remains a strategic concern, Iran’s nuclear future remains unsettled, and Tehran retains the ability and willingness to resist.

We have faced this problem before. Thirty years ago, Bosnia and Kosovo taught the United States and NATO a difficult lesson: winning on the battlefield is not the same as winning the war. The troubling question in 2026 is whether we remembered how those wars were fought but forgot what they taught us about how wars end.

Flashback: Bosnia—Military Power in Support of Diplomacy

By 1995, the Bosnian War had become one of Europe’s worst conflicts since World War II. Ethnic cleansing, atrocities, the siege of Sarajevo, and the massacre at Srebrenica showed that years of international efforts had failed to stop the violence.

NATO finally acted decisively with Operation Deliberate Force in August 1995. NATO aircraft attacked Bosnian Serb command facilities, ammunition depots, air defenses, communications systems, and heavy weapons. The bombing mattered, but bombing alone was not the strategy. Military force supported a larger political goal.

As NATO increased military pressure, American diplomat Richard Holbrooke intensified negotiations among the parties. Military action helped convince Bosnian Serb leaders that continuing the war would become increasingly costly. Diplomacy then provided a way to turn that pressure into an agreement.

The result was the Dayton Accords. Dayton was imperfect, but it accomplished the immediate objective: it stopped a devastating war. Bosnia therefore taught an important lesson: military power can create leverage, but diplomacy is often what turns that leverage into a political result.

Flashback: Kosovo and the Danger of Expecting a Quick Victory

Four years later, Kosovo taught an even harder lesson. When NATO launched Operation Allied Force against Yugoslavia in March 1999, some Western leaders believed President Slobodan Milošević would give in after a short period of bombing. He did not.

NATO possessed overwhelming military superiority, yet Milošević survived the first attacks and continued his campaign against Kosovo Albanians. What some expected to be a short operation became a 78-day air campaign.

NATO expanded its attacks and increased the pressure. Economic damage grew, Russia became important in diplomatic efforts, and the possibility of further NATO escalation became harder for Milošević to ignore. He eventually accepted terms requiring Serbian security forces to leave Kosovo.

Ivo Daalder and Michael O’Hanlon captured this experience in the title of their study, Winning Ugly: NATO’s War to Save Kosovo. NATO succeeded, but only after discovering that overwhelming airpower did not guarantee quick political surrender.

Kosovo should have left American leaders with a lasting warning: being able to destroy what an enemy values does not mean the enemy will quickly give us what we want. Destroying military capability can be easier than destroying political will.

Flash Forward: Iran and an Old Problem

Iran is not Serbia. It is much larger, more populous, and more strategically important. It possesses ballistic missiles, drones, proxy forces, energy resources, and the ability to threaten shipping through the Strait of Hormuz. Those differences make simple comparisons dangerous, but they make the lessons more important.

Once again, the United States entered a conflict confident in its ability to impose enormous military costs. Once again, American forces have performed with impressive effectiveness. Yet Iran has demonstrated a willingness to absorb punishment and continue resisting.

An aircraft can destroy a missile launcher or command center. It cannot determine what Iran’s leaders will decide afterward. They may negotiate, escalate, disperse their remaining forces, rally their population, or wait for American political patience to weaken. Those are political decisions, and bombs alone cannot make them for the enemy.

What Are We Trying to Accomplish?

This leads to the most important strategic question of the Iran war: What must happen for the United States to say the war has achieved its purpose?

Preventing Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon is one objective. Reducing its ballistic missile capability is another. Protecting Israel and other American partners is another. Reducing Iranian support for proxy groups has also been an American goal.

But these objectives are not the same, and each could require a different strategy. If the goal is preventing a nuclear weapon, what specific Iranian actions would satisfy the United States? If the objective is permanently eliminating Iran’s nuclear capability, can military force accomplish that by itself? If Washington seeks major changes in Iran’s behavior, what specific changes would be enough to end the war?

These questions determine whether military operations have a destination. Before asking what targets we can destroy, political leaders must decide what political outcome they are trying to produce.

That is the difference between tactical success and strategic success. The American military can count sorties flown, missile launchers destroyed, ships sunk, and command centers eliminated. Those numbers matter, but they do not answer the most important question: Are we getting closer to the political outcome we want?

Bosnia showed what can happen when military power supports a clear diplomatic effort. Kosovo showed that overwhelming military superiority may not quickly break an opponent’s will. The real target was ultimately not Milošević’s military but his calculation about whether continuing the war was worth the cost.

Give the Enemy a Reason to Stop Fighting

The Balkan wars taught another important lesson: pressure works best when the enemy has a way to stop the punishment. Dayton did not require the destruction of the Bosnian Serbs. It created a political framework under which the fighting could end. In Kosovo, Milošević had to withdraw Serbian security forces, but NATO did not require the destruction or occupation of Serbia.

In both cases, the enemy faced a choice. Continuing to fight would bring increasing costs, while accepting specific terms offered a way out. That principle matters in Iran. If Iranian leaders believe negotiations will lead to their political or personal destruction regardless of what concessions they make, they have little reason to stop fighting. Continued resistance may appear safer than surrender.

The United States therefore needs to make two things clear: what will happen if Iran continues fighting and what will happen if Iran accepts specific conditions for ending the war. An enemy needs to understand both the cost of continuing and the benefits of stopping.

Think About the Day After

Iran also raises a question that should be answered before any war begins: What happens after the fighting stops? Bosnia required an international military presence after Dayton. Kosovo required NATO peacekeepers after Serbian forces withdrew. Ending the bombing did not end the strategic commitment.

Iran would be far more difficult. If the government collapsed, who would control the military? Who would secure nuclear facilities and materials, ballistic missiles, ports, and oil infrastructure? What would happen among Iran’s political, religious, and ethnic groups? Who would guarantee safe passage through the Strait of Hormuz?

The collapse of a government is not necessarily a victory. As the United States learned again in Iraq, destroying an existing political order can happen much faster than building a stable replacement. Planning for the day after cannot begin on the day after.

The Leadership Lesson: Power Must Serve a Purpose

This is why Bosnia, Kosovo, and Iran belong in a serious discussion. The deepest issue is not airpower or technology. It is leadership and strategy.

Strong leaders need to be decisive. Presidents need options and must be willing to use American power when vital national interests are threatened. But strategic leadership requires something more difficult: the discipline to make power serve a clear purpose.

The most important question is not whether the United States has enough military power to defeat an adversary. The harder questions are what that power is supposed to accomplish, how much force is necessary, what diplomacy should accompany it, what concessions are acceptable, and what agreement can end the fighting. The military can provide options and execute missions. Political leaders must define the purpose those missions are supposed to achieve.

Winning the Peace Is Part of Winning the War

The military thinker Carl von Clausewitz argued nearly two centuries ago that war is an extension of politics. His basic point remains important: war is not an end in itself. Military force is a tool used to achieve a political result.

Bosnia demonstrated what can happen when military force and diplomacy reinforce each other. Kosovo demonstrated the danger of underestimating an enemy’s willingness to resist and assuming superior airpower will quickly force surrender.

Iran should have begun with those lessons already learned. Instead, the United States again faces the question NATO eventually confronted in the Balkans: How do we turn overwhelming military superiority into an acceptable political outcome?

If the United States ultimately fails to achieve a lasting settlement in Iran, the failure will probably not be because American military forces were incapable of accomplishing their missions. The failure would be at the strategic level: tactical success cannot make up for the absence of a clearly defined political end state.

Bosnia taught us that military power must support political purpose. Kosovo taught us that superior military power does not guarantee that an enemy will quickly give up. Iran may be forcing us to learn both lessons again.

The most important question, therefore, is not how many more targets the United States can destroy. It is the question that should guide every military action from the beginning of a war to its end: What political outcome are we trying to achieve, and does this military action bring us closer to it? Until we can answer that question clearly, winning battles is not the same as winning the war.

Source: Ivo H. Daalder and Michael E. O’Hanlon, Winning Ugly: NATO’s War to Save Kosovo (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2000).

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Learn more: johnlbarry.org

Less than three months before the 2026 midterm elections, an uncomfortable question is emerging: Could America’s military forces become involved, directly or indirectly, in the election and its aftermath?

That question should not be treated casually, nor should legitimate concern be converted into prediction. There is an enormous difference between identifying a constitutional vulnerability and asserting that government officials intend to exploit it.

Recent comments by two retired senior military officers associated with National Security Leaders for America (NSL4A) raise one potential scenario: National Guard or other military forces appearing at or near polling locations in the name of protecting election security. A second, more complicated scenario deserves equal examination: disputed election results followed by large-scale civil unrest, invocation of the Insurrection Act, and a prolonged collision among state governments, the executive branch, Congress, and the courts over unresolved congressional elections.

Neither scenario should be assumed. Both potentials deserve to be understood.

Scenario One: Troops at or Near the Polls

During an August 13 NPR discussion, retired Army Major General Randy Manner, a former Acting Vice Chief of the National Guard Bureau, expressed concern that National Guard personnel could be deployed at either the federal or state level to ostensibly protect election security.

His concern is important because the presence of uniformed military personnel around voting locations could have consequences even if no soldier interfered with a ballot.

American elections have traditionally been administered by civilian state and local authorities. Voters entering a polling location reasonably expect to encounter election workers—not soldiers performing a security mission.

The legal barriers are also substantial. Federal law sharply restricts the presence of federal armed forces at polling places, and federal voter-protection laws prohibit intimidation. A presidential emergency declaration does not simply erase those restrictions.

There is, however, an important distinction involving the National Guard. Guard forces can operate under different legal authorities depending upon whether they remain under state control or have been federalized. That distinction would become extraordinarily important in determining what missions were lawful and who commanded the forces.

But legality is only part of the issue. Imagine the visual image on Election Day: uniformed personnel, military vehicles, barriers, or armed security personnel outside selected polling locations. Supporters might describe their presence as protection. Critics might perceive it as intimidation. Voters themselves might simply wonder why the military was there. That alone could undermine confidence in an election.

Retired Air Force Major General Steven Lepper, a former Deputy Judge Advocate General of the Air Force, identified the broader civil-military concern: as domestic employment of military forces becomes increasingly normalized, circumstances can arise in which military personnel find themselves placed between political authorities and their fellow citizens. That is precisely the position the American civil-military tradition has generally sought to avoid.

Scenario Two: The Crisis Comes After the Voting

The second scenario is more complicated—and potentially more consequential. Suppose Election Day itself proceeds largely normally. Then several closely contested congressional races are challenged. Political leaders allege fraud or systemic irregularities. State officials disagree about certification. Lawsuits multiply. Demonstrations begin.

Most protests remain peaceful, but some become violent. Federal buildings or election facilities are threatened. State and local law-enforcement resources become overwhelmed in several locations. The President determines that federal intervention is necessary and invokes the Insurrection Act, permitting federal military forces to operate domestically under circumstances specified by federal law.

A national emergency might also be declared. At that point, three separate issues could become dangerously intertwined: election legitimacy, civil disorder, and military power. That combination would present a constitutional stress test unlike an ordinary disputed election.

The Insurrection Act provides presidents significant authority under specified circumstances to deploy federal forces domestically. But invocation of the Act would not itself invalidate election results or give the President authority to decide who won a congressional election. Nor would declaring a national emergency automatically suspend the constitutional transfer of congressional power. Those distinctions are essential.

The Constitutional Firewall

The Constitution contains protections specifically relevant to such a scenario.

The Twentieth Amendment provides that the terms of Senators and Representatives begin on January 3. The executive branch cannot simply move that date by presidential declaration. Furthermore, Article I, Section 5 states that: “Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members.” That means the ultimate constitutional authority for resolving contested membership in the House and Senate rests with those chambers—not with the President. But that does not mean the period between Election Day and January 3 could not become chaotic.

Certification disputes could occur in individual states. Courts could issue orders. Recounts could continue. Competing claims about election results could emerge. Individual congressional seats might remain unresolved when the new Congress convenes. And if enough races were disputed, the political consequences could become enormous—particularly if control of the House or Senate depended upon those seats.

The danger, therefore, is not that a President can simply announce, “Congress will not convene.” The Constitution does not provide such a power. The more plausible danger is institutional paralysis created by overlapping disputes—state certification battles, federal litigation, congressional election contests, mass demonstrations, emergency declarations, and military deployments occurring simultaneously. The distinction matters.

When a Political Crisis Becomes a Constitutional Crisis

Consider the sequence:

Disputed election → allegations of fraud → protests → violence → military deployment → litigation → unresolved congressional races → dispute over control of Congress.

Each individual step could have some basis in existing governmental authority or political practice. The danger emerges from their combination. A governor might argue that a state’s election remains unresolved. A federal court might be considering challenges to certification. The executive branch might argue that troops are necessary to restore order. Congressional leaders might disagree over whether particular members should be seated. The House and Senate might then confront their own constitutional authority to judge disputed elections.

Meanwhile, millions of Americans could believe—not necessarily based upon the same evidence—that their votes were being nullified. At that point, the United States would not merely face an election controversy. It would face a constitutional crisis of institutional legitimacy. The danger worth examining is a cascade of contested certifications, litigation, unrest, military deployment and congressional election contests that could delay resolution of particular races and create a struggle over congressional control.

The Military’s Most Difficult Mission May Be Restraint

There is another dimension that Americans should consider. Military officers swear an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States, not an individual officeholder or political party. At the same time, the American military operates under civilian control. Lawful orders from civilian authorities must be followed. Those principles normally reinforce one another. A domestic political crisis could place enormous pressure on the boundary between them.

Commanders would need extraordinary clarity concerning legal authority, mission parameters, rules for the use of force, relationships with civilian law enforcement, and the distinction between protecting public safety and influencing a political process. The professionalism of the Armed Forces would therefore become critically important. So would the judgment of civilian leaders issuing their orders.

The Lesson Is Not to Predict the Crisis—but to Prevent It

None of this establishes that either scenario will happen in November 2026. That point should be emphasized.

There are formidable constitutional, statutory, institutional, and professional barriers against military interference in American elections. State election officials, federal judges, Congress, military lawyers, governors, career civil servants, law-enforcement officials, journalists, and citizens all constitute parts of a system deliberately dispersed among competing centers of authority.

But constitutional systems are tested not when everyone agrees upon the outcome, but when powerful people do not. That is why the concerns raised by Generals Manner and Lepper deserve serious consideration. The first scenario asks whether military forces could appear around the electoral process itself. The second asks what happens if military forces become involved in controlling disorder produced by disputes over the election’s legitimacy. The first concerns Election Day. The second concerns the seventy-seven days between Election Day and the seating of the new Congress.

And the second may ultimately be the more difficult constitutional test because every individual action—an election challenge, a protest, a lawsuit, an emergency declaration, or even a lawful military deployment—could occur within existing governmental processes while their cumulative effect produces something far more dangerous.

Benjamin Franklin reportedly emerged from the Constitutional Convention in 1787 and was asked what form of government the delegates had created. His answer has survived for nearly two and a half centuries: “A republic, if you can keep it.” Franklin’s warning was not that the Constitution would inevitably fail. It was that preserving republican government would require succeeding generations to exercise restraint when they possessed the power not to.

The 2026 midterms may prove entirely uneventful. We should hope and pray that peaceful transfers of power occur. But, hope is not a strategy. The better safeguard is ensuring—before Election Day—that governors, election officials, military commanders, Congress, the courts, and the executive branch understand precisely where their constitutional authority begins and, perhaps more importantly, where it ends.

References

National Security Leaders for America (NSL4A), “Concerns Over Potential National Guard Use During Midterm Elections,” Voices of Experience: Insight and Wisdom from NSL4A, August 17, 2026.

What the Law Actually Says

The prospect of military involvement in a disputed election can quickly become clouded by political rhetoric. Five provisions of federal law and the Constitution establish important boundaries.

The Insurrection Act. The collection of statutes commonly called the Insurrection Act permits a President, under specified extraordinary circumstances, to deploy federal armed forces or federalize National Guard forces to suppress insurrection, overcome obstruction of federal law, or protect constitutional rights when ordinary civil authorities cannot do so. It is a significant exception to the normal prohibition against using federal troops for domestic law enforcement. It does not, however, give the President authority to determine election winners, invalidate election results, postpone the seating of Congress, or suspend the Constitution. The Congressional Research Service notes that the Act has been invoked dozens of times historically but that its use has become exceedingly rare; its last invocation was in 1992 during the Los Angeles riots.

The Posse Comitatus Act. The Posse Comitatus Act, 18 U.S.C. §1385, generally prohibits using the federal Armed Forces to execute civilian law unless the Constitution or Congress expressly authorizes it. The Insurrection Act is one of the principal statutory exceptions. An important distinction involves the National Guard: Guard personnel generally are not subject to the Posse Comitatus Act while operating under state authority, but the restriction applies when they are brought into federal service.

Troops at Polling Places. Federal law goes further when elections themselves are involved. 18 U.S.C. §592 makes it a crime for a federal civil or military officer to order, bring, keep, or control troops or armed personnel at a place where a general or special election is being held, with a narrow statutory exception when forces are necessary to repel armed enemies of the United States. Violations can carry imprisonment of up to five years as well as disqualification from holding federal office. This provision makes the legality of federal troops being positioned at polling places considerably more restrictive than the broader question of military forces being deployed somewhere in a community experiencing civil disorder.

Article I, Section 5. The Constitution gives neither the President nor the executive branch final authority to decide who is entitled to sit in Congress. Article I provides that “Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members.” Consequently, contested House elections ultimately fall within the constitutional authority of the House, and contested Senate elections within that of the Senate.

The Twentieth Amendment. Finally, the Constitution establishes a timetable that cannot simply be suspended by proclamation. The terms of Senators and Representatives begin at noon on January 3, and Congress is to assemble on tlihat date unless Congress itself has provided another day by law. A declaration of national emergency or invocation of the Insurrection Act does not, by itself, empower the Executive Branch to postpone that constitutional transition.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

Military power creates leverage. Diplomacy determines whether that leverage produces a lasting strategic advantage. Recent operations against Iran appear to have significantly degraded portions of its nuclear infrastructure and weakened important elements of its military capability. Those achievements altered the strategic landscape and undoubtedly restored a measure of deterrence.

Yet deterrence itself is often misunderstood. Many view deterrence as a single event—a military action so decisive that an adversary simply abandons future aggression. History tells a different story. Deterrence is not an event. It is a continuing relationship. It must be renewed continually through capability, credibility, alliances, diplomacy, and political consistency. Military force establishes credibility. Strategy sustains it.

The Real Test Begins After the Shooting Stops

The difficult phase of every conflict begins after the battlefield grows quiet. Can military success now be translated into a durable political settlement? Can deterrence be maintained without encouraging future escalation? Can adversaries be persuaded that continued confrontation is less attractive than negotiated stability?

These questions rarely have military answers. Iran presents perhaps one of the most difficult diplomatic challenges in modern international affairs. Unlike transactional disputes over territory or economics, negotiations with Iran involve competing historical narratives, revolutionary ideology, regional influence, religious legitimacy, domestic politics, and decades of accumulated mistrust.

These issues cannot be resolved by precision-guided munitions. Nor can they be resolved quickly. Diplomacy with revolutionary regimes requires something often in short supply within democratic governments. Strategic patience. Military organizations frequently operate on timelines measured in hours and days. Diplomacy often unfolds over years. Sometimes decades. Understanding that difference is essential. Military success should create diplomatic opportunities—not unrealistic expectations.

Winning the Peace

One of history’s recurring lessons is that winning wars and winning the peace are rarely the same undertaking. The United States won the military campaign of Desert Storm with remarkable speed. The political challenges of the Middle East continued for decades. Coalition forces rapidly removed Saddam Hussein’s government in 2003.

Building a stable Iraqi state proved immeasurably more difficult. Afghanistan demonstrated the extraordinary capability of American military forces. It also demonstrated the limits of military power when political institutions fail to achieve enduring legitimacy. History does not diminish these accomplishments.

It simply reminds us that military excellence cannot substitute for political strategy. The battlefield opens doors. Statesmanship determines which ones remain open.

The Lessons for China and Russia

The implications extend well beyond Iran. China is carefully studying every aspect of recent military operations. So is Russia. Neither seeks to replicate America’s model of warfare. Instead, both continue searching for methods that avoid America’s strengths while exploiting its vulnerabilities. China increasingly integrates military modernization with cyber operations, economic coercion, artificial intelligence, information campaigns, maritime pressure, and space capabilities. Russia blends conventional military power with disinformation, cyber attacks, energy leverage, political influence operations, and private military organizations.

Iran has pursued many of these same approaches for decades. Although the scale differs, the underlying strategic logic remains remarkably similar. Do not fight where America is strongest. Compete where America is most vulnerable. That observation should reshape how democratic societies prepare for future conflict.

Strategic Leadership in the Twenty-First Century

The most effective leaders understand that history provides principles—not templates. Historical analogies are invaluable. Historical assumptions are dangerous. Leadership requires distinguishing between similarities and differences. That discipline becomes increasingly important as technology accelerates.

Artificial intelligence is transforming information warfare. Commercial drones have democratized precision strike capabilities. Cyber operations can disrupt financial markets without crossing traditional military thresholds. Social media allows foreign actors to influence domestic political debate at unprecedented speed. Supply chains have become strategic terrain. Undersea communications cables have become targets. Critical infrastructure has become a battlefield.

These developments reinforce a central conclusion. Modern conflict increasingly revolves around disruption rather than destruction. The objective is often not to defeat another nation militarily. It is to weaken its economy. Reduce public confidence. Create political polarization. Undermine alliances.

Complicate decision-making. Increase uncertainty. These are the defining characteristics of Weapons of Mass Disruption. Unlike Weapons of Mass Destruction, their effectiveness depends not upon catastrophic devastation but upon persistent pressure. They seek to exhaust rather than annihilate. To confuse rather than conquer. To erode rather than destroy. That is precisely why they represent one of the defining strategic challenges of the twenty-first century.

The Central Lesson

Military organizations often ask the wrong question. They ask:

“How do we win the next war?” Perhaps the better question is: “How will our adversaries attempt to prevent us from fighting the next war the way we won the last one?” That shift in thinking changes everything.

Instead of assuming that yesterday’s doctrine remains sufficient, leaders begin searching for emerging vulnerabilities. Instead of celebrating previous success alone, they ask how that success has altered an adversary’s behavior. Instead of preparing to repeat history, they prepare to adapt to it. That is the essence of strategic leadership.

Conclusion

The Maginot Line was not a failure of engineering. It was a failure of imagination. France correctly remembered World War I. It remembered the wrong lesson. The same danger confronts every successful nation.

Military victories naturally reinforce confidence in familiar doctrine. Yet every victory simultaneously teaches our adversaries how to avoid fighting on our terms. While we refine the methods that brought success, they refine the methods intended to neutralize them.

History therefore presents a paradox. Its greatest value lies not in telling us what to do. Its greatest value lies in teaching us what questions to ask. The greatest danger in strategy is not forgetting history. It is remembering the wrong history.

Nations rarely lose because they fail to study the past. They lose because they study the wrong precedent and convince themselves that tomorrow’s adversary will behave like yesterday’s. Military power remains indispensable. It protects national interests, reassures allies, deters aggression, and creates opportunities that diplomacy alone cannot achieve.

But power without understanding is strategy without direction. The strongest military in the world cannot compensate for a flawed assumption about the nature of the conflict it is fighting. The first responsibility of strategy is not deciding how to fight. It is understanding what kind of war is actually being fought.

That is why strategic leadership demands more than superior weapons. It demands superior judgment. It requires the humility to challenge our assumptions, the discipline to distinguish between historical parallels and historical illusions, and the wisdom to recognize that every conflict is shaped as much by politics, culture, economics, and ideology as by military capability.

History remains one of America’s greatest strategic advantages. But only if it is read correctly. Power is essential. Understanding is decisive. The nations that endure will not be those that merely perfect yesterday’s victories. They will be those that recognize when yesterday’s success has become tomorrow’s strategic blind spot. That is the danger of fighting the last success.

Flashback Forward reminds us that history does not repeat itself—but it often reveals the assumptions that determine whether nations succeed or fail. The challenge is not simply to remember history, but to remember the right history.

Selected References

Bush, George H. W., and Brent Scowcroft. A World Transformed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998.

Clausewitz, Carl von. On War. Edited and translated by Michael Howard and Peter Paret. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1976.

U.S. Department of Defense. Military and Security Developments Involving the People’s Republic of China. Annual Report to Congress.

Zakaria, Fareed. Age of Revolutions: Progress and Backlash from 1600 to the Present. New York: W. W. Norton, 2024.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

When paired with Israel’s intelligence capabilities, regional access, and operational experience, the results were extraordinary. Precision-guided munitions struck hardened facilities with remarkable accuracy. Intelligence integration enabled the targeting of senior military leaders and key infrastructure. Air defenses were penetrated. Nuclear facilities suffered significant damage. Command-and-control systems were disrupted. For military professionals, the campaign represented a master class in modern joint warfare.

Yet every military victory invites an important question. What, exactly, has been won? History teaches that battlefield success and strategic success are not always the same thing. Military organizations measure success by objectives achieved. Statesmen measure success by political outcomes secured. Those are entirely different standards.

The United States has repeatedly demonstrated that it can destroy an adversary’s military capability. The more difficult question is whether military success can produce the political changes that policymakers ultimately seek. Recent events suggest that distinction remains as important today as it has ever been.

The Extraordinary Strength—and Limits—of Airpower

Few military innovations have transformed warfare more dramatically than airpower. From the strategic bombing campaigns of World War II to the precision-guided weapons of today, airpower has evolved into one of history’s most decisive military instruments. It provides speed, reach, precision, flexibility, and the ability to strike targets once considered invulnerable. Its advantages are undeniable. Airpower destroys infrastructure. It eliminates military capability. It disrupts communications. It degrades logistics. It provides overwhelming psychological pressure.

Against conventional military targets, few tools have proven more effective. But every instrument has limits. Airpower is exceptionally effective against things. It is considerably less effective against ideas. Bombs destroy buildings. They do not erase ideology. Missiles eliminate commanders. They do not eliminate institutions. Aircraft destroy factories. They do not destroy knowledge.

History repeatedly confirms this distinction. During the Vietnam War, the United States conducted one of history’s most extensive bombing campaigns. Yet North Vietnam’s political leadership remained committed to its strategic objectives despite extraordinary physical destruction.

During the Kosovo campaign, airpower contributed significantly to success, but only when combined with diplomacy, economic pressure, and the credible possibility of ground intervention.

In Iraq, coalition airpower rapidly dismantled Saddam Hussein’s conventional military. The insurgency that followed demonstrated that destroying a regime is often easier than building a stable political order.

Afghanistan reinforced the same lesson. American airpower remained dominant for two decades. Yet technological superiority ultimately proved insufficient against an adversary whose greatest strength was not military capability but strategic patience.

None of these examples diminish the value of airpower. They simply define its proper role. Military force creates opportunities. Strategy determines whether those opportunities become lasting political success.

Iran Studied America’s Successes

One of the most important strategic realities often overlooked in Washington is that America’s adversaries are serious students of American military history. Iranian military planners have spent decades examining every major American campaign since Operation Desert Storm. They watched coalition forces dismantle Iraq’s military in 1991. They studied NATO’s air campaign over Kosovo. They analyzed Afghanistan. They examined Iraq again in 2003. They carefully observed campaigns against ISIS.

Each conflict reinforced the same conclusion. Conventional military competition with the United States is futile. Therefore, avoid conventional competition. Rather than attempting to match America tank for tank or aircraft for aircraft, Iran deliberately invested in capabilities that operate outside traditional measures of military strength. Instead of concentrating expensive assets in vulnerable locations, they dispersed them. Instead of building a conventional navy capable of challenging the U.S. Navy directly, they developed swarms of fast attack craft. Instead of relying solely on aircraft, they invested heavily in drones and ballistic missiles. Instead of creating large expeditionary armies, they cultivated proxy organizations capable of extending Iranian influence throughout the Middle East.

Rather than attempting to defeat American military power, Iran sought to make using that power increasingly expensive. That is asymmetry.

Weapons of Mass Disruption

This is where the concept of Weapons of Mass Disruption becomes central to understanding modern conflict. It is also an idea I have been studying for decades. During my year-long National Security Fellowship at Harvard in 1994, I coauthored a paper examining many of these same strategic questions. We used a different term then—“Non-Lethal Weapons”—because we were exploring how nations might achieve important military and political objectives without relying primarily on the massive physical destruction traditionally associated with warfare. The technology has changed dramatically since then, but the underlying strategic idea has become even more relevant.

For much of the twentieth century, strategic thinking centered on Weapons of Mass Destruction because nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons threatened catastrophic physical devastation. Today, however, our competitors have an expanding arsenal of capabilities that can achieve strategic effects without destroying cities, killing millions, or crossing the threshold that might provoke overwhelming military retaliation.

I describe these capabilities collectively as Weapons of Mass Disruption.

The term itself is not new. It has appeared in strategic literature for more than two decades, including work by Robert J. Bunker on terrorism, information warfare, and emerging forms of conflict. I use the concept more broadly, however, to describe the growing spectrum of twenty-first-century capabilities designed to disrupt rather than destroy a modern society. These include cyberattacks, AI-generated disinformation, sabotage of undersea communications cables, GPS spoofing, drone swarms, attacks on ports, proxy organizations, energy coercion, disruption of financial systems and supply chains, and interference with maritime commerce.

What makes these capabilities strategically significant is not simply what each can accomplish independently. It is how they can be combined, sustained, and orchestrated.

A cyberattack can disrupt a financial network. AI can flood the information environment with convincing falsehoods. Inexpensive drones can force defenders to expend missiles costing hundreds of thousands—or millions—of dollars. GPS spoofing can interfere with commercial aviation and maritime navigation. Undersea cables can be damaged. Ports can be disrupted. Proxy forces can threaten international shipping. Electronic warfare can interfere with civilian infrastructure. Energy supplies can become instruments of coercion.

These capabilities share several important characteristics. They can be relatively inexpensive. They are often difficult to attribute conclusively. They can be employed repeatedly. And they exploit precisely what makes advanced societies prosperous: our extraordinary interconnectedness and dependence on complex systems.

That creates a very different strategic problem. The objective may no longer be to defeat an adversary in a decisive battle. It may be to impose a continuing series of political, economic, technological, and psychological costs—never quite enough individually to justify major retaliation, but collectively sufficient to weaken resolve and constrain freedom of action.

No single Weapon of Mass Disruption is likely to determine the outcome of a conflict. Their power comes from accumulation. Each disruption creates another problem to solve, another vulnerability to defend, another expense to absorb, and another uncertainty for political leaders and the public.

And therein lies their greatest strategic value:

The Strait of Hormuz: Geography as Strategy

Nowhere is this more evident than the Strait of Hormuz. Approximately one-fifth of the world’s seaborne petroleum passes through this narrow maritime corridor. It is among the most strategically important waterways on Earth.

Iran understands something fundamental. It does not need to close the Strait permanently. It only needs to convince the world that it might. A handful of naval mines. Several anti-ship missiles. Drone attacks against commercial vessels. Harassment by fast attack craft. Proxy attacks elsewhere in the region. Each action increases uncertainty. Insurance premiums rise. Shipping companies reconsider routes. Energy markets become volatile. Investment decisions change. Political leaders feel economic pressure.

Remarkably little physical destruction is required. The perception of danger often produces greater economic consequences than actual damage. That is precisely how Weapons of Mass Disruption operate. They exploit confidence rather than infrastructure.

The Economics of Modern Conflict

Military planners frequently calculate the cost of weapons. Strategists increasingly calculate the cost of disruption. A drone costing tens of thousands of dollars can require an interceptor missile costing millions. A cyber attack executed by a handful of individuals can interrupt billions of dollars in commercial activity. A damaged undersea cable can affect global financial transactions. A brief interruption in maritime commerce can ripple across international supply chains.

These asymmetries favor weaker powers. Victory is no longer measured solely by territory gained or armies destroyed. It is increasingly measured by costs imposed. Iran understands this. China understands this. Russia understands this. The question is whether democratic societies fully appreciate how profoundly warfare has changed.

Tactical Success Is Not Strategic Finality

None of this diminishes the remarkable accomplishments of recent military operations. The United States and Israel demonstrated overwhelming military superiority. Important nuclear facilities were damaged. Military infrastructure was degraded. Key leaders were eliminated. Deterrence was strengthened. Those accomplishments matter.

But history advises caution before declaring broader strategic success. Military campaigns rarely end political conflicts. They change political conditions. Whether those new conditions produce lasting stability depends upon what follows after the shooting largely stops. That transition—from battlefield to diplomacy—is often the most difficult phase of any conflict. It is also the phase that ultimately determines whether tactical victories become enduring strategic successes.

That reality brings us to the final and perhaps most important lesson of the recent confrontation. Military power can create leverage. Only strategy can transform leverage into lasting peace.

Selected References

Barry, John L., Michael W. Everett, and Allen G. Peck. Nonlethal Military Means: New Leverage for a New Era. National Security Program Policy Analysis Paper 94-01. Cambridge, MA: John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, 1994.

Clodfelter, Mark. The Limits of Air Power: The American Bombing of North Vietnam. New York: Free Press, 1989.

Lambeth, Benjamin S. NATO’s Air War for Kosovo: A Strategic and Operational Assessment. Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2001.

Ricks, Thomas E. Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq. New York: Penguin Press, 2006.

Whitlock, Craig. The Afghanistan Papers. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2021.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

German planners studied the same war but drew a different lesson. Rather than attacking where France was strongest, they maneuvered through the Ardennes Forest, bypassing much of the Maginot Line and rendering one of history’s greatest defensive achievements largely irrelevant. France had not prepared for the last war. It had prepared for the last success.

History has repeated that pattern with remarkable consistency. Victorious nations naturally seek to preserve the doctrine that brought success. Their adversaries spend the intervening years studying those very successes, searching for weaknesses and developing ways to avoid fighting on favorable terms.

The recent confrontation with Iran demonstrates that this strategic trap remains alive today. The United States and Israel displayed extraordinary military capability through precision strikes against Iranian nuclear facilities, command-and-control centers, missile infrastructure, and senior military leaders. The operations reflected decades of investment in intelligence, stealth technology, precision weapons, cyber capabilities, and integrated air operations. They represented some of the most sophisticated military planning ever executed.

Yet the campaign also reinforced a timeless lesson. Winning battles does not automatically determine how wars end. Military victories often create the illusion that similar methods will produce similar political outcomes elsewhere. History repeatedly demonstrates otherwise. The greatest danger in strategy is often not fighting the last war. It is fighting the last success.

The Danger of Strategic Inertia

Military organizations are built upon experience. Every doctrine, training program, and operational concept reflects lessons learned from previous conflicts. This is one of the greatest strengths of professional armed forces. It can also become one of their greatest vulnerabilities.

Success naturally reinforces confidence. Commanders become convinced that the methods producing yesterday’s victory will remain effective tomorrow. Institutions invest more heavily in proven concepts. Political leaders gain confidence in military options that previously worked.

Meanwhile, America’s competitors are drawing entirely different conclusions. Rather than attempting to duplicate American strengths, they ask a different question: How do we avoid fighting on America’s terms?

This phenomenon might be called strategic inertia—the tendency to continue relying upon doctrines that succeeded in previous conflicts long after adversaries have adapted to defeat them. History is filled with examples. After World War I, France invested in static defenses while Germany invested in maneuver.

After the overwhelming success of Operation Desert Storm, many assumed precision airpower and technological superiority had fundamentally changed warfare. America’s adversaries reached another conclusion. If they could not match the United States conventionally, they would simply stop fighting conventional wars.

Insurgencies dispersed. Terrorist organizations decentralized. Cyber warfare expanded. Commercial drones became precision weapons. Proxy organizations multiplied. Economic coercion emerged as another battlefield. Instead of confronting American military superiority directly, competitors increasingly sought methods that imposed costs while avoiding decisive engagement. No nation has embraced this approach more systematically than Iran.

The Wrong Analogy

Much of the public discussion surrounding recent events has rested upon an implicit assumption. If enough military pressure were applied against Iran’s leadership and military infrastructure, the regime itself might begin to unravel.

That assumption is understandable. It is also deeply flawed. It reflects the tendency to group authoritarian governments together as though they function according to the same political logic. They do not.

At first glance, Venezuela and Iran appear remarkably similar. Both suppress political opposition. Both control major media outlets. Both centralize authority. Both rely heavily upon internal security organizations. Both have endured years of international sanctions while portraying themselves as victims of foreign aggression. These similarities, however, are largely cosmetic. The architecture of political power inside each country is fundamentally different.

Venezuela: A Personalist Dictatorship

Venezuela operates primarily as a personalist authoritarian regime. Power revolved around President Nicolás Maduro and a relatively narrow circle of political, military, and economic elites. Patronage, coercion, and personal loyalty hold the system together. Institutions exist, but many derive their authority less from enduring legitimacy than from proximity to the individual leader.

Personalist regimes often appear stronger than they actually are. Their greatest strength—the concentration of authority—can also become their greatest weakness. When confidence in the leader begins to erode, factions emerge. Patronage networks weaken. Loyalty shifts toward self-preservation rather than ideology. Institutions that once appeared unified begin competing for survival.

History provides numerous examples. Romania under Nicolae Ceaușescu collapsed with astonishing speed. Libya under Muammar Gaddafi fragmented after his removal. Iraq under Saddam Hussein demonstrated how rapidly highly centralized systems can disintegrate once the leadership is eliminated. Such outcomes naturally encourage policymakers to believe that leadership decapitation produces political collapse. Sometimes it does. But not always.

Iran: An Institutional Revolution

Iran belongs to a fundamentally different category. The Islamic Republic is not simply an authoritarian government. It is an institutionalized revolutionary state.

Following the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iran deliberately constructed overlapping organizations designed to ensure the survival of the revolutionary system regardless of changes in individual leadership. The Supreme Leader occupies the apex of authority. Beneath that office exists a dense architecture of institutions. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps serves simultaneously as a military force, intelligence organization, economic enterprise, political actor, and guardian of revolutionary ideology. The Guardian Council shapes political participation. The Assembly of Experts oversees succession. The Basij militia reinforces internal social control. Religious seminaries, intelligence organizations, religious courts, and clerical networks collectively sustain ideological legitimacy.

This is not merely government. It is an ecosystem built upon revolutionary conviction. That distinction changes everything. Leadership matters in Iran. But the regime was deliberately designed to survive leadership transitions. Authority resides not simply in personalities but within institutions bound together by shared ideology. Destroying buildings is therefore far easier than dismantling the political system they support.

A New Kind of Strategic Weapon

Understanding Iran also requires broadening how we think about military power. For decades, international attention has focused on Weapons of Mass Destruction—nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons capable of producing catastrophic physical devastation. Those threats remain real.

But the twenty-first century has introduced another category of strategic capability. It might best be described as Weapons of Mass Disruption. Unlike weapons designed to destroy societies outright, Weapons of Mass Disruption seek something different. They exploit economic interdependence, technology, information networks, and public confidence. Their objective is not catastrophic destruction. It is persistent uncertainty.

A cyberattack that disrupts financial markets. A drone strike against critical infrastructure. GPS spoofing that diverts commercial shipping. Attacks on undersea communications cables. Disinformation campaigns powered by artificial intelligence. Proxy organizations attacking maritime traffic. Economic coercion targeting global supply chains.

None individually threatens national survival. Collectively, however, they steadily erode economic stability, political confidence, alliance cohesion, and strategic freedom of action. They impose costs that are disproportionately larger than the investment required to create them. Iran has spent decades becoming one of the world’s leading practitioners of this form of warfare. It understands that it cannot defeat the United States in a conventional military contest. It does not intend to. Its strategy is far more sophisticated.

Rather than defeating American military power, Iran seeks to outlast it, complicate it, and steadily increase the political and economic costs of employing it. That distinction lies at the heart of understanding both the recent conflict and the broader evolution of twenty-first century warfare. It also explains why the opening military campaign, impressive as it was, represented only the beginning of a much larger strategic contest.

Selected References

Atkinson, Rick. Crusade: The Untold Story of the Persian Gulf War. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1993.

Gilbert, Martin. The Second World War. New York: Henry Holt, 1989.

Shirer, William L. The Collapse of the Third Republic. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1969.

Zakaria, Fareed. Age of Revolutions: Progress and Backlash from 1600 to the Present. New York: W. W. Norton, 2024.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

There is an old warning that military organizations are always preparing to fight the last war. I believe the danger is more subtle—and potentially more consequential.

We may be preparing to fight the last war we won.

Victory teaches lessons, but so does defeat. The difference is that the victor tends to preserve and perfect the methods that produced success, while the defeated adversary has every incentive to find a different way to fight.

That tension has fascinated me throughout much of my military career and afterward. Nearly three decades ago, during my year-long National Security Fellowship at Harvard, I coauthored a paper examining what we then called “Non-Lethal Weapons”—ways of achieving important military and political effects without relying primarily on massive physical destruction. Today, technology has expanded that concept far beyond what we could have imagined in 1994. Cyber warfare, artificial intelligence, drones, GPS spoofing, attacks on critical infrastructure, economic coercion, proxies, and disruption of global supply chains increasingly allow nations to impose strategic costs without confronting American military power directly.

The recent confrontation with Iran brings that question into sharp focus. The United States and Israel demonstrated extraordinary military capability. Yet history reminds us that destroying targets and achieving political objectives are not the same thing. Military power can create leverage. Strategy must determine what comes next.

In this three-part Flashback Forward series, I explore that problem from three perspectives:

Part I — The Wrong Analogy
Why Iran is not simply another authoritarian regime and why misunderstanding the architecture of an adversary can lead to dangerous strategic assumptions.

Part II — Airpower, Asymmetry, and the Age of Weapons of Mass Disruption
Why America’s overwhelming conventional military superiority is encouraging adversaries to compete through disruption rather than destruction.

Part III — Diplomacy, Strategic Leadership, and the Next Conflict
Why tactical victory is only the beginning—and why the ultimate test of military power is whether leaders can convert battlefield leverage into enduring political advantage.

The series ultimately asks a question larger than Iran:

How will our adversaries prevent us from fighting the next war the way we won the last one?

History cannot tell us exactly what comes next. But it can expose the assumptions that may prevent us from seeing it.

That is the purpose of Flashback Forward: not simply to remember history, but to remember the right history.

Stay tuned to Part I tomorrow!

Nearly a century later, another tariff experiment is unfolding. This time, however, the greatest danger may not simply be economic. It may be constitutional.

Earlier this year, the Supreme Court struck down President Donald Trump’s sweeping emergency tariffs, ruling that the President could not invoke emergency powers to impose tariffs on virtually every country on earth. The decision reaffirmed that even broad executive authority has constitutional limits.

But, as Fareed Zakaria argues in his July 31, 2026 Washington Post opinion column, “The Dishonesty Inside Trump’s New Tariff Plan,” the administration did not abandon its objective. Instead, it began searching for another legal pathway—what amounts to a back door around the Court’s decision.

First came temporary global tariffs in February. Then, in July, the administration imposed a 10 percent tariff affecting goods from more than 80 countries, citing alleged unfair trade practices. It also imposed a 50 percent tariff on many Canadian imports by invoking a little-used statutory provision dating back to the Smoot-Hawley era—authority that had never before been used in this fashion.

Now the administration has announced another round of tariffs targeting countries including Norway, China, Japan, and Cambodia, claiming the measures are necessary to combat imports tied to forced labor. Zakaria’s argument is not merely that the legal rationale is weak. His concern is more profound: after the Supreme Court rejected one justification, the White House needed another. To survive judicial scrutiny, government agencies must certify findings that critics argue are unsupported by the evidence. Official findings become legal pretexts. Legal pretexts become public policy. That is how institutions begin to erode.

History shows that democratic institutions are seldom corrupted overnight. They are weakened incrementally—first by stretching the truth, then by requiring public officials to attest to doubtful claims, and eventually by normalizing those claims as official government fact. What begins as political convenience becomes bureaucratic routine. Over time, the distinction between fact and expedience grows dangerously thin.

The irony is difficult to ignore. According to the Walk Free Foundation’s 2023 Global Slavery Index, the United States imports approximately $169.6 billion in goods associated with forced labor—the highest level among all G20 nations. Japan follows at roughly $53.1 billion, Germany at $44 billion, and the United Kingdom at $26 billion. Those figures hardly establish the United States as uniquely positioned to claim the moral high ground while imposing sweeping new tariffs on others.

Nor do the economic results suggest success. Manufacturing construction spending—measured on an annualized basis using U.S. Census Bureau and Federal Reserve Economic Data (FRED)—has fallen from approximately $250 billion in 2024 to about $175 billion by mid-2026. Manufacturing employment has declined by roughly 75,000 jobs since January 2025.

The aluminum story illustrates the contradictions. President Trump announced that steel and aluminum tariffs would rise to 50 percent, arguing the move would strengthen domestic production. Later, the administration offered to reduce aluminum duties for companies willing to build production facilities in the United States. Yet aluminum giant Rio Tinto reportedly declined to make such investments despite the proposed incentive. The practical result has been familiar: higher costs for American manufacturers, weaker investment, fewer manufacturing jobs, and little evidence that tariffs are producing the industrial renaissance their supporters promised.

That brings us back to Smoot-Hawley. The lesson of 1930 was never simply that tariffs can raise prices. It was that governments often mistake economic nationalism for economic strength. Policies marketed as patriotic can ultimately leave businesses less competitive, consumers paying more, and allies responding in kind. For decades, the United States distinguished itself by championing open markets, rules-based trade, and the rule of law. Today, critics argue that the nation has become the world’s most protectionist advanced economy.

Whether the tariff policy ultimately succeeds or fails will be judged by history. But another question may prove even more consequential: what happens when an administration, after losing before the nation’s highest court, searches not for a different policy but for a different legal justification—one that requires official institutions to certify disputed claims as fact? Is this a potential constitutional crisis?

Smoot-Hawley reminds us that bad economic policy can take years to unwind. History also teaches that when governments begin bending institutions to accommodate policy rather than bending policy to comply with the law, the damage extends well beyond economics. That is the real warning behind today’s back-door tariffs.

Source: Fareed Zakaria, “The Dishonesty Inside Trump’s New Tariff Plan,” The Washington Post (July 31, 2026).

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

The war in Ukraine has provided the first large-scale glimpse of this future. Thousands of inexpensive drones have destroyed tanks worth millions of dollars, hunted artillery, struck naval vessels, and reshaped battlefield tactics. What once seemed experimental has become routine. Kendall argues that this is merely the opening chapter.

His central insight is deceptively simple: future military advantage will belong not merely to those possessing the most sophisticated platforms but to those fielding intelligent systems capable of sensing, deciding, coordinating, and adapting faster than their adversaries. Decision speed, not simply firepower, increasingly becomes the decisive competitive advantage. This represents a profound departure from the industrial-age military model.

For decades, the United States built its armed forces around a relatively small number of extraordinarily capable—and extraordinarily expensive—platforms. Stealth bombers, aircraft carriers, fifth-generation fighters, and precision-guided weapons reflected a philosophy that prized quality over quantity. Kendall argues that autonomy changes this equation. Instead of relying on just exquisite aircraft, future conflicts may involve tens of thousands of intelligent autonomous systems operating collaboratively across every domain. Quantity, enhanced by intelligence, again becomes a strategic advantage.

Equally important is Kendall’s insistence that autonomy extends far beyond drones. Air, land, sea, undersea, space, and cyberspace will all experience fundamental transformation. Human-machine teaming will become the norm, with commanders directing increasingly autonomous fleets of collaborative aircraft, robotic ground vehicles, unmanned surface vessels, autonomous logistics networks, and intelligent intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance systems. Humans will continue making critical strategic and ethical decisions, but machines will increasingly execute those decisions at speeds impossible for human operators alone.

Perhaps Kendall’s strongest critique is directed not at America’s military but at its acquisition system. The Department of Defense was designed to purchase ships, tanks, and aircraft over development cycles measured in decades. Artificial intelligence evolves in months. Software updates occur weekly. Commercial innovation proceeds at a pace fundamentally incompatible with traditional procurement practices. Kendall warns that unless acquisition becomes dramatically faster, the United States risks fielding yesterday’s technology against tomorrow’s adversaries.

In this respect, software becomes as strategically important as hardware. Algorithms, data architectures, networking, and software integration increasingly determine combat effectiveness. The nation capable of continuously improving its software ecosystem may possess greater long-term military advantage than one relying solely on superior individual platforms.

Kendall also places the technological competition squarely within the broader strategic rivalry with China. His concern extends beyond China’s military modernization to include its manufacturing capacity, industrial policy, investment in artificial intelligence, and willingness to rapidly field emerging technologies. The competition is becoming as much about innovation ecosystems as traditional military power.

Importantly, Kendall does not dismiss the ethical implications of autonomous weapons. Rather, he acknowledges that meaningful human judgment should remain central to decisions involving the use of force whenever practical. At the same time, he recognizes the practical reality that international bans on autonomous systems are unlikely to prevent their proliferation. The challenge, therefore, is not preventing technological change but governing it responsibly while maintaining military competitiveness.

Flashback

History offers an important reminder. Revolutionary military technologies have repeatedly transformed the conduct of war without altering its fundamental purpose. The machine gun did not eliminate strategy. Airpower did not replace political objectives. Nuclear weapons did not eliminate the need for deterrence or diplomacy.

Every major technological breakthrough has forced military organizations to adapt. Yet the nations achieving lasting success have been those that integrated new technologies into coherent strategies rather than assuming technology alone guaranteed victory. As Carl von Clausewitz observed nearly two centuries ago, war remains “a continuation of policy by other means.” That observation has survived every technological revolution from the musket to the microchip.

Forward

Kendall’s analysis convincingly explains how warfare is changing. The larger strategic question remains why those capabilities are employed.

Recent history offers sobering lessons. The United States enjoyed overwhelming technological superiority in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan, yet military dominance did not consistently produce enduring strategic success. Superior battlefield performance could not compensate for ambiguous political objectives, shifting strategies, or challenges in converting tactical victories into lasting political outcomes. Technology changes the character of war. It does not change the enduring relationship between military means and political ends.

That is where Kendall’s work intersects with a broader strategic perspective. Autonomous systems, artificial intelligence, collaborative combat aircraft, and software-defined warfare will undoubtedly reshape military operations. They may well determine who wins battles. But strategy will continue determining whether those battles achieve national objectives.

The challenge for tomorrow’s leaders is therefore larger than embracing artificial intelligence. It is ensuring that technological innovation remains firmly connected to sound strategy, disciplined institutions, ethical leadership, and clearly defined national interests.

Frank Kendall has written an important book because he compels defense leaders to confront an unavoidable future. Yet history reminds us that every military revolution presents not only new capabilities but also new responsibilities. The nations that prevail will be those that master both. In the end, autonomy may transform how wars are fought. It will not relieve leaders of the timeless responsibility for a focused strategy to decide wisely why they are fought in the first place.

This article is intended for professional discussion and does not reflect any political endorsement. The views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author, John L. Barry, and are offered for historical and professional discussion.

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