The problem with Congress is not that it takes itself too seriously but that it doesn’t take itself seriously enough
Cut through all the partisan finger-pointing, set aside all the rationalizations and excuses, and what you’ll find at the root of Congress’s dysfunction is a serious lack of seriousness and self-respect among rank-and-file Members.
We saw no better example than Sen. Joni Ernst’s succumbing to MAGA bullying this week by announcing her intention to vote to confirm Pete Hegseth to lead the Department of Defense. It took only a threat of a Republican primary challenge and a weekend barrage from the Trump social media mob for Ernst, an Army colonel who served in the Iraq war, to toss aside earlier concerns about Hegseth’s oft-repeated opposition to women service in combat roles. It was also telling that, as a victim of sexual assault and domestic violence, she declined to speak with the woman who Hegseth paid to drop a sexual assault complaint against him or demand that the FBI look into the incident. Ernst’s craven capitulation not only assures Hegseth’s confirmation but has served to discourage other Republicans from raising legitimate questions of other nominees whose lack of experience, dodgy character, or extreme views make them similarly unqualified for high public office.
A day later, on the other side of the Capitol, House Speaker Mike Johnson summoned Mike Turner, the longtime member and respected chair of the House Intelligence Committee, to inform him that he was being kicked off the panel because of “concerns from Mar-a-Lago” and Trump acolytes in the Republican caucus. No Joe Cannon, Mike Johnson.
Invariably, the excuse for this failure to defend the power and independence of the legislative branch revolves around the overriding need to maintain unity to defeat the other party. That’s what happened last year when a bipartisan gang in the Senate hammered out a bill to secure the border. With Democrats desperate to show they were doing something to stem the flood of illegal migrants, Republican negotiators were able to win just about everything they demanded, and the package had won support from President Biden, leaders of both parties, and dozens of Republican senators. But hours before the bill was to come to the Senate floor, Trump demanded Republicans reject the bipartisan package, telling them that passage would prevent them from using the immigration issue against Biden in the fall election. Within hours, all but one Republican—including a number who had spent weeks negotiating the details and touting its benefits—turned tail. Without their votes, the bill was never taken up.
It’s not only Republicans, however, who have handed legislative power and initiative over to presidents or presidential candidates. On issues ranging from antitrust and tax reform to regulating the Internet and reducing the runaway budget deficit, Democratic majorities in the House and Senate were content to sit back and do little for much of the Biden presidency. In some instances, it was because Democratic leaders were reluctant to get out in front of the president or, divert attention away from his agenda or expose policy differences with the administration. In the hyper-partisan hothouse of Washington, the current—and misguided—convention wisdom is that presidents alone should set the policy agenda, and there is not enough political bandwidth in Washington to handle anything else.
The only way Congress can regain its independence and initiative is for Members to muster the self-respect and seriousness of purpose and reassert them. Presidential bullies will demand and threaten until the people they are bullying finally dare to say no and start to do the jobs they were elected to do. Presidents are entitled to respect, a degree of deference in who they appoint, and a decent shot at implementing their hard-won mandate. But history also tells us that presidents also benefit from the advice and consent of legislators who won mandates of their own.
No Democrat did Joe Biden or the party any favors by refusing to address immigration or inflation or failing to tell him that he was in no shape to run for or serve out a second term. And no Republican will be doing Donald Trump, their party, or the country a favor by refusing to save him from his worst instincts, ideas, and appointments, even if it does cause short-term political pain. Checks and balances work to everyone’s benefit. Rubber stamps, not so much.
Steven Pearlstein is a Senior Fellow at Penn Washington. He is also the Robinson Professor of Public Affairs at George Mason University and a former Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for the Washington Post. The views expressed here are his own.