The Power of the President Compels You

The Power of the President Compels You

By Brian Wilson: The Bipartisan Patriot 

There’s a dangerous myth in America, that Donald Trump is the problem. He isn’t. He’s the symptom. The real problem is that one man, any man, can wield this much power with so few checks in place. Trump didn’t create the system that lets a president reshape the planet by impulse, he simply revealed how fragile the guardrails really are.

For more than two centuries, we’ve comforted ourselves with the illusion that honor and tradition would restrain power. That presidents would be guided by the better angels of conscience. But civility was never law; it was habit. And habits break. Trump’s presidency didn’t invent overreach, it merely stripped the polite veneer from it, showing the raw engine of authority underneath.

We like to imagine the presidency as a tightly bound office, hemmed in by Congress, the courts, and the Constitution. In truth, those restraints exist mostly in theory. The presidency holds an extraordinary range of unilateral powers that few citizens fully grasp. With a single signature, a president can deploy military force, authorize drone strikes, impose sanctions capable of crippling foreign economies, or even initiate nuclear action. He can classify or declassify intelligence at will, extend pardons to political allies or convicted criminals, and invoke emergency powers that can suspend the ordinary functions of democracy in the name of national security. These are not abstract abilities; they are real, active tools that rest in the hands of one person, and history has shown how easily they can be misused when conscience and accountability fail to keep pace with authority.

Trump didn’t craft these tools, he just used them with the bluntness of someone unafraid to test how far they could bend. He showed the nation that the presidency isn’t bound by morality, only opportunity. And when opportunity met ego, precedent crumbled.

Tradition once mattered. Presidents respected boundaries, even when they disagreed with them. Trump, however, treated tradition like clutter. Intelligence briefings became optional; security clearances were political favors; and public trust was something to auction, not earn. He waved classified satellite photos on social media. He demanded foreign governments investigate his opponents on live television. He fired cabinet members by tweet. He declared emergencies to divert congressional funding. Each act shredded the soft fabric of presidential decorum, and the country watched, equal parts horrified and entertained, as he proved that outrage has a short half-life.

Every scandal faded faster than the last. Every breach of protocol set a new baseline. We learned, the hard way, that norms have no power if no one enforces them.

Trump may be reckless, but what happens when recklessness gives way to calculation? What if the next president isn’t chaotic, but deliberate, someone who studies Trump’s trail of broken precedents and uses them as a map? Picture a future leader invoking the Insurrection Act not to restore order but to suppress protest. Or citing a “national emergency” to delay elections, claiming security concerns. Both are legally possible. Both could be executed without a single vote cast in Congress. Trump proved the locks are ornamental. The next one might come with a key.

Presidential power has expanded for decades under both parties, from undeclared wars to secret surveillance, from “signing statements” that rewrite laws to executive orders that reshape entire industries. Trump didn’t invent executive excess; he merely performed it in public, without apology or disguise. And maybe that’s what we needed to see. Because the truth is uncomfortable: we built a system that depends on restraint, not regulation. We assumed decency would always sit behind the desk. We were wrong.

So maybe the question isn’t, “How did Trump get away with it?” Maybe it’s, “Why is any of this even possible?” We don’t need to fear the man, we need to fear the office we’ve allowed to evolve into something monarchic. If one president can twist the machinery of government to his will, then the machinery itself is the danger.

The next candidate who vows to “run the country like a business” should remind us: a president is not a CEO. He’s a steward of democracy, not its owner, and when one man can unilaterally bend the arc of the world, launch missiles, suspend laws, pardon cronies, or silence dissent, then democracy isn’t just fragile. It’s conditional.

Because the power of the president compels you, whether you voted for him or not.

“The danger isn’t in who takes the oath, but in believing the presidency itself is safe. Power this absolute doesn’t corrupt, it reveals. Every oath of office is a test, and sooner or later, someone stops pretending it’s a restraint.”

— Brian R. Wilson