Welcome to the second chapter of The Unwritten Rules Break First. If you haven’t read the series introduction or the previous chapters, I highly recommend starting out there. They will help you acclimate to the fascinating world of Roman politics.

Gaius Gracchus was down but not out.

Though his brother had been killed and his faction scattered, Gaius still had the land commission his brother spearheaded. Some time after the 133 BCE affair, he began his work.

The Roman landscape had evolved since Tiberius’s death. Two of the three original land commissioners were dead—Tiberius went first, and Appius Claudius soon after.1 By 130, they were replaced by Fulvius Flaccus (who would be consul in 125 BCE) and Papirius Carbo (who would be consul in 120 BCE).

Flaccus was a staunch pro-Gracchan, as evidenced by his service on the land commission for nearly a decade. He was not only an astute politician but also an effective general, securing a triumph in his later years for defeating tribes in modern-day France.2 But he was a younger man now, not quite at the apex of his political career. He still had much life ahead of him, most of it at his friend Gaius’s side.

Less information exists about Carbo, though we know he was no less partisan. He sought to entrench Tiberius’s reforms by targeting the patronage system. Two years after the latter’s death, he proposed a measure as a tribune that introduced secret balloting to the Assembly. Every citizen would now vote in private stalls rather than out in the open, a practice central to democracy even today. However, this had the unintended consequence of upending class relations, a key pillar of Roman society. It would now be difficult, but not impossible, for political patrons to keep their clients in line. This was a very good development for lower-class and populist political candidates, who now saw a key obstacle to their success removed. 3

Gaius himself had come a long way since Tiberius’s ghost haunted him. He had become an excellent orator in his own right. Fiery and passionate, he was known to stir crowds with his animated speeches. He would often pace around the Forum’s speaking platform and whip himself up into a frenzy—only to be restrained by a nearby servant who constantly reminded Gaius to control his emotions. But Gaius’s zeal did not stop at the ballot box. He was quick to anger and could easily be overcome by rage. That said, he had a softer side—he loved his brother and was deeply impacted by his untimely death.4 It was at the confluence of these impulses that Gaius decided to continue his brother’s work.

Carbo planned to legitimize Tiberius’s actions in 133 by introducing another ballot measure that allowed tribunes to run for multiple terms. However, he was unsuccessful due to the skilled rhetoric of Scipio Aemilianus, consul and hero of Rome.

Aemilianus stands in stark relief from Gaius and his friends. Unlike them, he had decades of experience serving the Republic. Victorious against the Numantines and then Carthage, he was also a capable general and leader. Indeed, he was Tiberius Gracchus’s first military commander when he fought in the Third Punic War, and Gaius accompanied him when he returned to Spain in 134.5

But Aemilianus was a bit of a norm-breaker himself. Though he was under the consular age limit at the time, the Assembly made a special exception to elect him so in 148. In 134, partially due to the deteriorating situation in Spain, the people clamored again for Aemilianus to serve as consul. This was frowned upon by many institutionalists, but the Assembly made another exception, and Aemilianus was now a two-time consul.6

Originally, he and the Gracchi were on pleasant terms; Aemilianus helped Tiberius (his cousin) escape charges after the Numantine incident during the latter’s quaestorship.7 But his attitude quickly changed after Tiberius’s tribunate. In fact, he became so against his cousins that upon learning of Tiberius’s death while on campaign in Spain, Aemilianus quoted Homer and said, “So perish also all others who on such wickedness venture” (the title of our first chapter!).8

When Carbo introduced his term bill in 131, Aemilianus rose to argue against the proposal. But he shocked many when, in response to a pointed question by the tribune, he declared that Tiberius’s death was fair and legal if he had intended to overthrow the government. This remark irritated the population, and a few citizens began to heckle and interrupt him. Nevertheless, the Assembly was swayed and voted against Carbo’s bill—though it was clear Tiberius’s memory still held weight in the minds of many.9

The struggle repeated itself two years later with the land commission. Its three leaders had criss-crossed Italy by this time, handing out land parcels wherever they went. But they soon encountered multiple problems: a lack of written land deeds, blurred borders between public and private land, and boundary disputes between Rome and the Italian allies.10 These challenges threatened to hamper the commission’s work and limit the available land supply.

The Italians were particularly frustrated by the pesky commissioners because they believed it was a veiled attempt to limit their jurisdiction. If the commission chipped away at their land holdings, many reasoned, what would stop Rome from encroaching on other rights?

Irritated, many looked for a champion to rein in the commission. They found one in Scipio Aemilianus, who harkened back to Tiberius’s time by arguing that a consul would be better suited to handle these technically ‘international’ disputes. The Senate agreed and appointed consul Publius Sempronius Tuditanus to oversee the cases. But the lower classes were split on the decision. Many soured on Aemilianus, believing that he was placing foreign interests above their own. The pro-Gracchans encouraged these sentiments, spreading rumours that Aemilianus was desecrating Tiberius’s memory and plotting to scrap the popular commission altogether.11

As the debate intensified, Aemilianus prepared to deliver an address defending his position on the bill. It was one he never gave. The morning of the speech, Aemilianus did not emerge from his home. After a frantic search, he was discovered dead in his bed, stricken by an unknown ailment. Many ancient sources suspected foul play12, but modern historians cast doubt upon these assumptions. Because a resentful population prevented an impartial investigation, the true course of events is likely lost to history.13 One thing was for sure, though: Scipio Aemilianus, subduer of Carthage, was dead.

After Aemilianus’s death, some still looked for solutions to the impending crisis. Flaccus attempted to ram through a proposal granting citizenship to all Italians, but other elements of Roman society shot it down.14 Italian citizenship would have to wait.

In response, multiple Italian cities revolted against Roman control. Townships across the peninsula blazed with the fires of revolution. Levies were raised, and the fragile citizenship system seemed primed to collapse in Rome’s backyard. But the Republic had an ace up its sleeve: a little-known praetor named Lucius Opimius.

Opimius is the final actor in our story. He looms over the next five years like a dark cloud, constantly lurking in the shadows. Brutal and cold, he disregarded standard military procedures in favor of victory through fear.

The world got its first taste of Opimius’s philosophy during the brief Italian conflict. When the Senate assigned him to stop the revolts in 125, he executed their orders with ruthless efficiency. Besieging the rebellious city of Fregellae later that year, he breached its walls and razed everything to the ground. Almost no survivors were left behind. Though vicious, his strategy worked. The other Italian cities swiftly fell into line, and the nascent revolt was crushed.15

It was during this chaos that Gaius made his first foray into Republican politics. He took little part in the Italian debate, avoiding what could have been an early impediment to his career. Appointed quaestor in 126, the Senate assigned him to the province of Sardinia.16

It was not a good year to be in Sardinia. The winter was harsh, and the Roman garrison there was short on supplies. Their commander (a consul, Orestes) requested provisions from nearby cities, but Sardinian emissaries traveled to Rome and successfully convinced the Senate to annul the request. The Romans would not get their supplies. If the situation persisted, the troops would starve.

But now Gaius intervened. He was attached to Orestes’ command and saw firsthand the soldiers’ precarious situation—and decided to act. Making a circuit of the island later that year, he convinced several cities and towns to donate clothing to the army voluntarily. Additionally, he secured a donation of grain from King Micipsa of Numidia, a Roman ally in North Africa. Buoyed by his efforts, the garrison was able to last the winter.17

What Gaius experienced in 126 was likely an offshoot of a broader crisis facing the Republic. Ancient sources inform us that the following year (125, when Gaius’s friend Flaccus was a consul), a plague of locusts ravaged crops throughout North Africa, killing many citizens.18 This would have left Sicily as the sole grain-producing province left at the time, but we have no information on their yields. Given these facts, it’s quite possible that a massive grain shortage hit Rome in the mid-to-late 120s.19 So it wouldn’t have been too surprising for Gaius to consider grain distribution reforms before they became his calling card later in life.

The Senate subsequently decided to extend Orestes’s command an extra year in Sardinia. Plutarch writes that this was done to keep Gaius away from Roman politics, but it easily could have been to maintain continuity in a dire situation.20 Whatever the case, Gaius immediately left his post upon hearing the news and sailed straight for Rome.21

No one expected the quaestor’s arrival in 124. When he showed up in the Eternal City, the Senate immediately charged Gaius with dereliction of duty and of aiding the Italian rebellion in 125. But, buoyed by a warm reception from throngs of admirers, Gaius denied these accusations. The charges were eventually dropped, and Gaius felt free to continue his political career. He could now set his sights on his ultimate goal: the tribunate.22

Though his return impressed many ordinary citizens, Gaius’s situation was far from secure. Despite a spirited campaign, he only finished fourth in the tribunal elections for 123. This was enough to ensure victory, but dashed Gaius’s hopes for a landslide win.23 It did not take long, however, for him to shore up support among ordinary Romans.

One word was on Gaius’s lips throughout 123: reform. He passed a wide-ranging slate of bills that radically altered Roman society.

He first empowered the land commission to continue its work, allowing it to divide existing public land amongst the poor. This freed up more land for distribution, as before the commission could only distribute confiscated land.24

Gaius’s proposals also paved the way for substantial military improvements by obligating the state to pay for food, clothing, and equipment for all legionnaires.25 This change shifted the financial burden of warfare from the soldiers to the state, decoupling service in the legions from wealth. It started a series of events that culminated in the military abandoning land requirements less than half a century later.26 However, the ensuing influx of impoverished, glory-seeking soldiers would play a major role in the Republic’s final civil wars.

Gaius also introduced a bill proposing two new colonies (one of which was on the site of ruined Carthage), housing thousands of Roman colonists.27 This policy was specifically designed to maintain support among the poor and continue rebuilding the Roman middle class. This was among the most popular of Gaius’s reforms, as it gave non-landowners a chance to build wealth.28

To appease the equestrian class, Gaius initiated a radical judicial restructuring that rebalanced Roman class dynamics. The Extortion Court, long staffed exclusively by senators, had recently provoked ire by acquitting multiple magistrates of bribery charges. Many of the accused were themselves senators, leading to speculation about potential conflicts of interest. Pouncing on the subject, Gaius shifted the jury pool from senators to equestrians. This policy was less successful than the others, as the equestrian merchants also held conflicts of interest that enabled even more corruption than before.29

Finally, the centerpiece of Gaius’s reforms was a landmark grain distribution system likely inspired by his time in Sardinia. According to Gaius’s proposal, the Republic would now distribute cheap, state-purchased grain to all adult Roman citizens.30 To support this plan, Gaius also established a system of public granaries to store supplies.31 Once again, this proposal ushered in a new era of Roman politics, foreshadowing free grain distribution during the Roman Empire.

But not all of Gaius’s policies were noble. Bringing the state further into vendetta politics, Gaius also passed two laws targeting his late brother’s enemies.

1. The first law stipulated that if the Assembly stripped a magistrate of his office, they could not run again. This was specifically aimed at Octavius, Tiberius’s deposed foe from a decade earlier. In a remarkable display of political cunning, however, Gaius withdrew the bill after his mother supposedly ‘intervened’ in the situation. This display of filial piety only gave Gaius and his mother more support from the people.32

2. The second law obligated the government to prosecute past magistrates who banished Roman citizens without due process. Such a statute is known as an ex post facto law, targeting citizens who performed actions considered legal when they occurred. This law targeted another anti-Gracchan, known as Popilius, who, as praetor, banished many of Tibierius’s friends after his untimely death. Gaius kept this measure in place, and Popilius fled Italy.33

Gaius was able to pass many of these measures in part due to his strong public speaking skills. Many ancient historians considered him one of the greatest orators of his time. Even Cicero, a staunch institutionalist throughout the Republic’s final collapse, concurred with his peers that “[Gaius’s] language was noble; his sentiments manly and judicious; and his whole manner great and striking.”34

Taking a broader view of Gaius’s actions in 123, however, a more concerning pattern emerges. Many of Gaius’s laws undercut mos maiorum by harnessing state power for political purposes. Still, many of Gaius’s proposals appear intended to shift Roman politics from anti-Gracchan to pro-Gracchan arenas (especially the Assembly) instead of fundamentally altering the Republic.

When the elections for 122 rolled around at the end of the year, many believed Gaius would run for consul.35 He did not, though something far more unusual happened that year: there weren’t enough eligible candidates to fill ten tribunate positions. In a shocking twist, Gaius was allowed to fill one of the vacant spots even though he wasn’t a candidate.36 The bounds of mos maiorum stretched further, and Rome accepted the result without a sound. What was outrageous ten years ago became tolerable as Gaius settled into his second term.

Mandate in hand, Gaius continued to build his populist agenda. The centerpiece bill this year was another attempt at granting Italians citizenship. Yet again, however, the Senate intervened. As the vote drew near, the Senate decreed that all Italians must leave Rome until the Assembly voted on the proposal. Some anti-Gracchans also enlisted another tribune, Livius Drusus, to veto the bill.37

Drusus was a staunch ally of Gaius up until that point, which makes his defection all the more interesting. Given how little we know about the man, we will probably never know why he decided to switch sides. But the damage was done. Cracks were beginning to appear in the pro-Gracchan coalition, and the Italian bill failed to pass.

These fissures continued to grow throughout 122. Drusus proposed a populist agenda that outdid Gaius: establishing twelve new colonies instead of two, allowing poor people to receive public land for free, and forbidding torture of Italian allies. In an instant, Gaius’s base evaporated—and Drusus was in control.38

Escaping the crisis, Gaius left for North Africa with his old friend Flaccus, who moved down the cursus honorum to become a tribune in 122 in another major breach of mos maiorum.39 While there, both men visited Roman Carthage and observed the rapid construction of Gaius’s pet project.

There was one major problem with building on Carthage’s ruins, however. When Scipio Aemilianus destroyed the old city 25 years earlier, he swore a religious oath that no one would ever develop on the site. While construction progressed smoothly as the Romans set the city limits, strange events soon began to occur. A fierce gust of wind destroyed the city's standard. A hurricane hit the area. Wolves tore up the colony’s boundary markers.40 All of this was quite concerning to the notoriously superstitious Romans. Some felt that the gods were displeased with Gaius’s actions, and citizens continued to turn against him.

Gaius, realizing the severity of his situation upon returning to Rome, took matters into his own hands by portraying himself as a champion of the common man. He moved into a small house by the Forum. He confiscated senatorial luxury boxes at gladiator fights (which backfired and turned the remaining wealthy pro-Gracchans against him).41 He ran for tribune again for 121. But by now, the anti-Gracchans were too strong. Gaining momentum, they annulled his candidacy on procedural grounds and helped elect Lucius Opimius, the sacker of Fregellae and avowed anti-Gracchan, consul.42 If there were any unrest in 121, Opimius would certainly put it down.

Firmly in power, the anti-Gracchans laid a trap. They attempted to bait Gaius into a conflict with a two-pronged strategy: repeal his laws in the Assembly and revoke authorization for Roman Carthage in the Senate. It worked. Gaius, furious, rallied a mob and led them into the Capitol to protest the bill. Just as it appeared a fight would break out, however, Gaius retreated to a nearby portico to surveil the scene.43

It was customary for the Senate to perform a sacrifice before opening proceedings. This was what Gaius witnessed when he first arrived on the scene. But one of the servants assigned to the ceremony, Antyllus, spied Gaius upon leaving the Senate building and walked over to him. Sources diverge on what Antyllus said, but the result was the same: Gaius gave a shocked or scornful look toward the man, and a group of pro-Gracchans immediately fell upon him with makeshift knives.44 Antyllus was dead in seconds. Mob violence had returned to Rome.

This was not Gaius’s intention, of course. Multiple ancient sources note that Gaius was disturbed upon understanding what had happened and scolded his followers for giving his opponents ammunition to attack his cause.45 But it was too late. Gaius spoke to the Senate and attempted to absolve himself of responsibility, but it was no use. No one would listen to him. Dejected, Gaius and Flaccus retreated to their homes, unsure of what to do next.

In an extraordinary session the following day, the Senate proclaimed the senatus consultum ultimum—a novel decree commanding consul Opimius to do everything necessary to preserve the Republic. It was, in effect, a declaration of martial law. Opimius gathered a group of armed men and camped in the Capitol, preparing for violence.46

Now events were moving beyond Gaius’s control. A group of pro-Gracchan partisans seized one of Rome’s seven hills (the Aventine). Flaccus and Gaius attempted to gather support among the slaves by promising their freedom, but attracted no one. They joined their supporters on the Aventine and took up defensive positions.47

Looking for a way out of the situation, the pro-Gracchans sent one of Flaccus’s sons, Quintus, to determine the Senate’s position. Upon his arrival, Opimius and the Senate responded that they would not negotiate unless Gaius and Flaccus came in person. If more pro-Gracchan messengers attempted to negotiate, Opimius added, he would immediately detain them. 48 Gaius and his friends disagreed on what to do next. Gracchus thought he could go and convince the Senate to end the struggle peacefully, but his friends wanted to fight. Outnumbered, Gaius caved. He would stay.49

In a last-ditch attempt to avert catastrophe, the pro-Gracchans sent Quintus Flaccus back to the Senate. But when he arrived, Opimius held fast to his promise and arrested him on the spot.50 There would be no more negotiations. Opimius sent his military force towards the Aventine. The bloodshed would begin shortly.

It wasn’t a fair fight. Opimius used his archers to devastating effect, sowing confusion within the armed mob. Then, his infantry advanced through the streets and picked off pro-Gracchan partisans.51 Resistance melted away. Flaccus took shelter in a nearby blacksmith’s shop. Gaius, meanwhile, sprained his ankle while attempting to escape the city and trudged on.52

It didn’t take long for Opimius to find the ring-leaders. Flaccus was pulled from his hidey-hole, betrayed by a neighbor. Gaius, upon realizing he couldn’t escape, asked his faithful servant Philocrates to stab him.53 He bled out in a garden outside of Rome’s walls. Just like his vision foretold, Gaius couldn’t escape a violent death.

In the days following Gaius’s demise, Opimius executed a vicious purge that took the lives of 3,000 pro-Gracchan partisans. Even poor Quintus Flaccus, messenger of the mob, was only afforded the dignity of choosing his manner of death.54 Gaius and Flaccus were dumped into the Tiber: those who delivered their heads to the Senate were paid their weight in gold.55

Such was the life of Gaius Gracchus: more expansive, populist, and violent than his brother’s. While he introduced many long-term reforms that benefited the Republic, his precedent-breaking actions contributed to a factional race for popular support, violence within Rome’s city limits, and a rise in vendetta politics.

Gaius’s greatest legacy was a continued breakdown of class relations and mos maiorum. Concerningly, we see that most people didn’t seem to mind when Gaius ran for a second and third term as tribune—a stark departure from Tiberius’s time a decade prior. People were beginning to internalize social breaches as ordinary, disregarding their previous reverence for unwritten norms. With this new framework in place, Roman politicians had a road map for pushing the bounds of mos maiorum: build upon past breakdowns and see how far they could go. This strategy would be exploited to devastating effect by future figures leveraging the Gracchi’s exploits, especially the showman-politician Lucius Appuleius Saturninus two decades later.

In leveraging the state’s authority to pursue political opponents, Gaius also set a dangerous precedent. In theory, anyone in power with a grudge could follow his example and pass laws indirectly targeting their enemies, using the legal process as cover to stifle dissent.

Beyond breaking political norms, Gaius also upended social structures. His bid to influence the Extortion Court sparked a decades-long cycle of reform and counter-reform, with control shifting between the Senate and the equestrians.

At this point, we have seen two types of politicians in Ancient Rome: those who harness the people’s power to enact popular proposals (populist reformers) and those who saw these reformers as a threat to the Republic (institutionalists). These respective approaches would clash continuously during the Late Republic, and eventually led to its downfall. But it was during the Gracchi brothers’ time that these fault lines first emerged.

A new religious structure was built in the months after Gaius’s death. It was called the Temple of Concord, dedicated to the unity and strength of the Roman people. But those who witnessed the violence of 121 knew better. They knew it was only a matter of time before everything would come crashing down. So it was no surprise that, some time after its dedication, an inscription was found on the temple’s base. It read:

“A work of mad discord produces a temple of Concord.”56

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Two days ago, OpenAI released GPT-5: its newest artificial intelligence model. Announcing its release, they declared it was “state-of-the-art across coding, math, writing, health, visual perception, and more.” But in practice, it’s less of a massive upgrade and more of an incremental improvement over its predecessors—one that may reset near-term expectations for the industry.

A More Natural Speaking Style

Here’s a comparison of two conversations I had with ChatGPT. Both have a near-identical premise: I’m revising The Unwritten Rules Break First, and I want a running commentary on what flows and what doesn’t. See for yourself how each model communicates:

GPT-5 is sharper and more concise than o3. It’s still not impossible to tell that GPT-5’s response is AI-generated (adjectives such as ‘reader-eye’ are a dead givewaway). But it’s far harder to know than before.

This has unnerving implications. I worry that GPT-5 makes it more difficult to detect AI-generated text in the real world. It’s already tough for most people, but if it becomes impossible for even experts to know? Verification becomes nearly impossible for organizations lagging behind the latest technology, especially schools, businesses, and online platforms. That said, it’s hard to tell for sure if these changes are limited to my GPT-5 experience or if they’re a global change. So there’s a small chance this is a one-off occurrence and not some earth-shattering revelation.

Increased Coding Capabilities

I’ve experimented with GPT-5 on this front the most, and I can confidently claim that its coding abilities are vastly improved compared to previous models. I’ve tried vibe-coding with ChatGPT in the past (letting AI generate programs for me), but I always felt it was vastly inferior compared to its competitor, Claude. Now it’s different.

This is Home Library. It’s a competely AI-generated application that tracks my personal book collection. And it only took GPT-5 about 36 hours of back-and-forth to make it work. I can import files to fill out my collection or search for books to add. I can click on each title to see its authorship and release date. There’s even a statistics panel to track how many books I own or how many pages I’ve read. This is a fully fleshed-out, AI-generated application that works.

However, it took considerable debugging for the code to function properly. GPT-5 is surprisingly strong at creating finished products from scratch, but it broke down once I asked for additional features. In this case, I tried adding file-sharing and automatic book information lookup, and it took most of yesterday to resolve the accompanying bugs.

Because of my involvement in getting Home Library across the finish line, I believe we’re nowhere near the point where these models can code everything on their own. I suspect human oversight will be needed to manage these tasks for the foreseeable future, as GPT-5’s coding capabilities aren’t fully developed yet.

Unresolved Issues

GPT-5 is better than before, but it’s limited by the surrounding environment. For example, Canvas (OpenAI’s code workspace) often blocked edits to the Home Library project. This forced me to abandon the platform in favor of a brute-force approach where GPT-5 provided me with code and directed me to paste updates into my project files. Not a major issue, but frustrating nevertheless.

Additionally, GPT-5 taxed my computer, even though it’s brand new and is quite powerful (an Intel Core 7 CPU, RTX 4050 GPU, and 32 GB RAM). I had to generate most of Home Library on my phone so that my computer wouldn’t freeze. This could be an issue with the project’s size (over 1,000 lines), but I don’t recall these problems occurring with earlier OpenAI models.

We’ve Hit A Wall

Thinking broadly, perhaps the most crucial takeaway is this: OpenAI likely spent years and millions of dollars on this model, and it didn’t result in the massive productivity increases of yesteryear. Does this indicate that the AI boom is slowing down? Maybe.

Recall that many promises around AI are the same that ran through the Internet world in the late 1990s. The latter ended in a stock market crash, as investors realized the products they were getting didn’t live up to the hype. The Internet revived itself in the following decades, but many in the industry switched from the idealism of the past to the realism of today.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing happens here. Just like 30 years ago, we’re seeing massive investments in thousands of AI companies from public and private organizations alike. If Big AI fails to deliver strong upgrades when existing models hit their limits, investors will wake up from their slumber and pull their backing.

As an AI-realist, I found reasons to be both optimistic and pessimistic about the field after using GPT-5. I think this is as good as AI gets for now: models with strong reasoning and coding skills that can’t think for themselves. Barring another sea change (for example, increased usage of AI ‘agents’ that control computer programs), I think this is where we’ll be for a while. Have a great weekend!

Welcome to Scatterbrained Saturday, where we deviate from our mainline posts for less-serious write-ups. Today’s subject: my hometown football team, the New England Patriots.

The New England Patriots held a private in-stadium scrimmage for local residents and season ticket holders Friday evening, and I attended with some friends. Here’s what I saw:

The team was divided into two squads: blue and white. Practice was at thud tempo, which meant no tackling. That didn’t mean limited physicality, however—we still saw a few massive hits sprinkled in throughout the day, especially on inside runs.

Both teams alternated drives, gaining points for different actions (such as touchdowns or turnovers). From what I saw, the blue team’s offense featured Drake Maye under center, Rhamondre Stevenson at RB, and wide receivers Stefon Diggs, Kyle Williams, and Efton Chism. The white team featured Joshua Dobbs at QB, rookie TreVeyon Henderson in the backfield, and wide receivers Pop Douglas, Ja'Lynn Polk, and Kayshon Boutte.

Given its unusual location, the crowd’s energy was noticeably different than past training camps I’ve been to. There were enough people to fill about a quarter of the seats in the lowest sections, but they got quite loud whenever a big play occurred. Overall, the environment was very relaxed—one that made it easy to study players up close.

Maye Day

Drake Maye broke his training camp interception-less streak, as he turned the ball over twice. Overall, he looked shakier than in previous outings, though it didn’t help that he was constantly harassed by the defense.

His first pick came on his second drive of the day. Opening with great passes to Diggs outside and deep, Maye tried to go back to the well with a shallow pass to his top wideout across the middle. But his throw was behind the sprinting receiver, forcing Diggs to turn his shoulders and reach for the ball. It bounced off his hands and into those of linebacker Robert Spillane (I couldn’t see who picked it off first-hand, relying on other sources for this one).

The second interception was uglier. In a two-minute drill situation at the end of the day, Maye looked left for Kyle Williams on a short curl, and cornerback Alex Austin jumped the route—leading to an easy pick-six.

That’s not to say all was bad for Maye, though. He started practice with a great drive punctuated by an electric, trick-play touchdown to Williams. More on that in a moment.

Defensive Dominance

It’s not fair to solely blame Maye for his turnovers, so let’s pivot to the defense. They looked excellent. The few plays that each side got burned on were either tight throws into double coverage or trick plays. Overall, they extracted at least five turnovers from both sides combined: four interceptions and a Rhamondre Stevenson fumble.

I’d like to single out safety Jaylinn Hawkins for particular praise. He had two interceptions yesterday—one cutting in front of a trick pass to the front right pylon from Pop Douglas, and the other on a batted ball from third-string quarterback Ben Woolridge. He seemed to be everywhere on the field and was a key contributor for the blue team.

McDaniels’ Craftiness

One of the big reasons why I’ve been so excited about Josh McDaniels’ return as offensive coordinator this year is because he brings an arsenal of trick plays to the offense. His inventive scheming was on full display yesterday.

That touchdown that Maye threw to Kyle Williams? It was a flea-flicker play: Maye handed the ball off to Rhamondre (I think), who lateraled it back to the QB, who heaved the ball downfield to a streaking Williams for a beautiful 40-yard touchdown. I was impressed with Maye here because he hit his target right in the numbers, and the receiver was moving quick. It was a great play all around.

But then there are the lesser trick plays that McDaniels pulls out of his bag from time to time. It felt like there was a jet sweep or double reverse every drive, and these switch-ups seemed to confound an otherwise-dominant defense (with the lone exception of Hawkins intercepting Pop Douglas). It’s unclear how often these plays will show up during the season, but I have no doubt they will keep opposing defenses on their toes.

Penalties Abound

Finally, there was no shortage of penalties on both sides of the ball. A series of early false starts by the blue team’s offensive line were followed by some pass interference calls. At one point, there might have even been a delay of game. The Patriots will need to continue cleaning up their act if they want to avoid the close losses they suffered last season, and it still seems like they have a long way to go.

Other Players of Note

Pop Douglas was all over the field, interception aside. He looked speedy on the inside and might have caught every ball thrown at him. He constantly got open on slants and even some deeper routes. I suspect he’s going to have a huge leap this year, especially with better talent around him.

Andres Borregales continued to shine as a kicker. He didn’t miss a single FG all day, and even nailed one from 50+ yards out. A far cry from the dark days of Chad Ryland.

Kendrick Bourne looked shaken up on after a deep pass midway through practice and was slow to get up. He had a slight limp as he made his way off the field, but was able to walk under his own power. At this time, his status is unclear.

Overall, it was a good practice. I have a feeling our defense will be nasty this year, especially when Christian Gonzalez and Carlton Davis return to action. I’ll be looking forward to the Patriots’ first preseason matchup against the Washington Commanders next Friday at 7:30 pm. Have a great weekend!

Welcome to the first chapter of The Unwritten Rules Break First. If you haven’t read the series introduction or “A Guide to the Roman Republic,” I highly recommend starting your journey there. They will help you get settled into the fascinating world of Roman politics.

In 133 BCE, Rome was ascendant.

They had just come off a resounding victory against their bitter enemy, Carthage, in the Third Punic War. And over the past fifty years, they had successfully gained control of most of modern-day Spain, North Africa, and Greece. These conquests brought millions of pounds of treasure to the Eternal City, carried on the backs of Roman soldiers, and made many citizens rich.12

But underneath the surface, cracks were beginning to appear in the fabric of Roman society. Although the Punic Wars made Rome fabulously wealthy, who got the wealth was a different story. The constant fighting disproportionately affected small landowners, most of whom joined the legions. Many did not return. With no one to manage their properties, their surviving peers snapped up land at bargain prices. Sprawling estates soon sprang up throughout Italy, while the ranks of the poor swelled.3

This posed a problem on multiple fronts. For starters, it depleted the military’s ranks. The legions were heavily dependent upon small landowners, as only those with property could afford the supplies necessary for service. And with a series of Spanish tribes causing headaches for the Republican government throughout the 130s, it was unclear if the Romans had enough strength to retaliate.

Secondly, the inequality caused demographic crises. In the words of the ancient historian Plutarch, the destitute former tenants “neglected the bringing up of children, so that soon all Italy was conscious of a dearth of freemen.”4 It was clear that if Rome remained on its present course, it would lack the manpower needed to sustain its rapid rise. Into the void stepped Tiberius Gracchus, a politician who believed he could find a solution to the problem.

Tiberius, by all accounts, was a refined man. The son of a former consul, he had the wealthy background necessary to glide through the Roman upper class.5 He was not a particularly energetic politician, but he made up for it with ambition, convincing logic, innovative ideas, and a silky-smooth speaking style.6 As a result, he had all the potential for a distinguished political career. But this was not to be, for Tiberius had other plans in mind.

After serving in the Third Punic War, Tiberius began his political journey as a quaestor in 137 BCE. The Senate assigned him to assist consul Gaius Mancinus in his efforts to subdue the Numantians, a tribe resisting Roman rule in Spain.7 Unfortunately, Mancinus’s army was promptly defeated and surrounded. Twenty thousand lives were at stake, and only the most skilled negotiator would be able to force an escape. But the Numantians weren’t interested in meeting Rome’s best and brightest. Remembering his father (who signed a treaty with them years earlier), they sent for Tiberius instead.

Tiberius, having little diplomatic experience, faced a dilemma: either accept the Numantians’ humiliating terms and risk fury back home, or refuse and surely perish. Survival instincts taking over, he chose the former.

When the Senate received the news, they were incredulous. So, too, was most of Rome. One would expect Tiberius’s career to be over. But instead, he returned to a hero’s welcome from the families of the soldiers he helped save. Though his superiors faced censure from the Senate (who sent consul Mancinus back to Spain and delivered him to the Numantians in chains), Tiberius remained relatively unscathed.8

Pro-Gracchan literature tells us that when he returned to Rome, Tiberius became aware of the growing effects of conquest-driven inequality. Traveling through the Italian countryside one day, he observed that almost no Roman citizens remained in the fields. The landowners, having acquired vast tracts of land, instead used slaves from conquered areas for labor.9 Tiberius decided to identify a politically attractive solution to the problem, and he quickly found it: land redistribution.

At this point, Tiberius made a fateful decision. He would not take the high road to political fame—chasing an aedileship or praetorship—but rather saw the tribunate’s tremendous power over the government and decided to pursue that route instead. He would harness the people’s power to make himself mighty. And he knew land distribution was his ticket there. So, after running a successful campaign for the tribunate in 134 BCE, he introduced a proposal the following year that would close a loophole exploited by rich landowners.10

At this time, the Republican government held vast amounts of ager publicus, or public land. This land was leased out to landowners for private use. However, every individual was limited to 500 iugera (~330 acres) of public land.11 But the wealthy disregarded this rule. Many landowners used fake names, for example, or leveraged their client networks to enlist others to hold land on their behalf.12 Gracchus’s bill would form a commission to investigate these abuses, confiscate illegally held property, and redistribute it to the landless poor. In effect, it was a way to target the rich and replenish the Republic’s backbone: small landowners.

Gracchus knew that the Senate, composed of Rome’s wealthiest citizens, would be hostile to the bill. So he bypassed them entirely by submitting it to the friendlier Assembly first. There was no written law prohibiting this approach, but it was a conspicuous breach of custom. More importantly, it indicated that Tiberius was willing to set aside mos maiorum if he could get results.13

However, there were still barriers to overcome. The landowners quickly recovered by recruiting another tribune, Marcus Octavius, to veto the land commission when it arrived at the Assembly. On voting day, Octavius did as he was asked. Making his way through the throngs of people at the Forum, he shouted “Veto!” when he reached the front. “I forbid!”

Tiberius couldn’t do much once Octavius shut down the legislation. He tried desperately to convince his colleague to lift the block, but Octavius wouldn’t budge. So Tiberius ventured further into the political unknown. Leveraging the full power of his office, he announced that he would veto all governmental business until the dispute was resolved. This meant that the Senate and Assembly couldn’t meet, public funding dried up, and magistrates couldn’t carry out their required duties.14

To prove his point, Tiberius dispatched his lieutenants across the city to announce the news. He visited Rome’s top treasury, the Temple of Saturn, to seal the doors shut. The consequences must have been unimaginable: public projects halted, laborers unemployed, contracts unfulfilled, and much more. All of this was carefully calculated to apply maximum pressure upon Octavius, to force his hand. But how far was Tiberius willing to go? No one knew for sure.

At first, it appeared Tiberius was willing to compromise. Spurred on by the landowners to resolve the situation, he finally introduced the bill to the Senate for their consideration. But they unsurprisingly declined to approve the bill. So Tiberius took another unprecedented step. He asked the Assembly to depose Octavius.

In Tiberius’s eyes, this measure was his last resort. “Barring open war,” he told Octavius, “the only way to resolve this dispute would be for one of us to give up the office.”15 Custom-bound to prevent violence, to him this was his only way out.

If Tiberius felt he had other options, he did a good job of hiding it. On the day of the vote, he spoke in the Forum and begged Octavius to let the land commission bill pass. Once again, Octavius refused. The vote proceeded.16

As the voters moved into their groups and began voting on that fateful morning, it appeared that Tiberius would win easily. Once unthinkable, a sitting magistrate was on the verge of having his mandate revoked. One by one, the tribes announced their votes. The first seventeen tribes came and went. All voted in favor of impeachment. Tiberius was now one tribe short of a majority—and victory.

But just as success was within his grasp, Tiberius stopped the proceedings and gave Octavius one last chance. He urged Octavius to change his course and not allow himself to be expelled from his office. Though moved by these entreaties, Octavius refused. The measure passed.

Tiberius ordered Octavius stripped of his rank and dragged out of the Forum. The angry Assembly nearly killed the ex-tribune during his exit. A group of nearby landowners fanned out to protect him and most likely saved his life.17

The day did not end without bloodshed, however. Plutarch writes that in the fracas, one of Octavius’s “trusty servants” was killed.18 Tiberius, alarmed at the violence, rushed down to calm the crowds. They obeyed.

With the landlords broken, the land commission bill was all but assured to pass. Assigned to lead the commission were Tiberius, his brother Gaius, and senatorial ally Appius Claudius.19 It appeared the commission was ready to do its work.

But though Tiberius won the battle, it soon looked like he had lost the war. The Senate, led by an avowed anti-Gracchan named Publius Nasica, used their power of the purse to cut off funding to the commission. For an organization planning to issue on-site judgements throughout Italy, this move effectively checked its power. And though he had the Assembly’s backing, Tiberius did not wish to go toe-to-toe with the Senate. Therefore, he temporarily paused the commission’s operations.20

As the debate raged on, another crisis hit Rome—this time, in the east. News reached the city that King Attalus III of Pergamon, a kingdom encompassing most of modern-day Turkey, had died. Instead of passing the crown onto a successor, he bequeathed his kingdom to the Senate and People of Rome.21 In an instant, Rome added hundreds of square miles of new territory to their growing empire.

Tiberius pounced immediately. He pushed a bill through the Assembly that utilized Attalus’s treasury as capital for the land commission, promising to cover start-up expenses for new landowners. Additionally, he attempted to wrest control of Pergamon’s fate from the Senate and put it in the hands of the Assembly, saying he would submit a relevant bill at a later date.22

The Senate was outraged. It was well known that they exclusively handled international relations, and many senators denounced Tiberius’s proposals as an attempt to shift the balance of power from the elite Senate to the popular Assembly.

Given how Tiberius wielded his power throughout 133, it was no surprise that whispers spread through Rome that Tiberius’s true aim was kingship. One popular rumor was that emissaries from Pergamon presented Tiberius with a golden crown, implying that the tribune’s reign was imminent.23 Such accusations landed, as they tapped into Rome’s natural aversion to kings. The Republic was founded on a deposed monarch, after all, and almost no one wanted to return to that time. So Tiberius’s popularity began to plummet.

It’s easy to see why these rumours spread. Tiberius had already breached mos maiorum three times and had upended the stable structure of Republican politics. It was clear he was tipping the delicate balance of power toward the masses every day. Many anxiously awaited Tiberius’s response, hoping that he could soothe a restless public.

But he did little to assuage their fears. In a speech at the Forum, he defiantly defended his actions. Regarding Octavius, Tiberius claimed he had abandoned the people’s will by vetoing the land commission bill. “If, then,” Tiberius said, “[a tribune] should change about, wrong the people, maim its power, and rob it of the privilege of voting, he has by his own acts deprived himself of his honourable office by not fulfilling the conditions on which he received it; for otherwise there would be no interference with a tribune even though he should try to demolish the Capitol or set fire to the naval arsenal. If a tribune does these things, he is a bad tribune; but if he annuls the power of the people, he is no tribune at all.”24 It is unclear whether he addressed the accusations of kingship, so we will not speculate on that here.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, many of Tiberius’s allies urged him to do the unfathomable: run for a second consecutive term as tribune. This was something no one had dared to do for the past 250 years. Whether out of fear or confidence, Tiberius agreed. He would try to extend his tribunate.

To secure his victory, Tiberius decided to build on his work from 133. He introduced a slate of reforms he would implement if elected, designed to further curtail the wealthy’s influence:

• Reducing mandatory service time requirements in the military.

• Expanding the jury pool for criminal cases from senators to merchants of the equestrian class.

• Allowing citizens to appeal judicial verdicts.25

But initially, it appeared that Tiberius’s reelection was doomed to fail. A dispute broke out in the Assembly regarding the legality of his actions. Some voters claimed that the ploy was illegal—after all, wouldn’t it result in Tiberius continuing to gather power? Tiberius’s fellow tribunes were split on the issue, with half of them in favor of his candidacy and the others against. Caught in the middle, a frustrated Tiberius adjourned the Assembly for the day.26

The following morning, some sources claim that Tiberius encountered a series of bad omens that spooked his followers. Leaving his house, the tribune tripped on a stone and broke his big toe. Ravens on the rooftops kicked stones at him as he moved towards the Forum. Sacred birds refused to eat, indicating divine displeasure.

For the famously superstitious Romans, this gave them pause. Most of Tiberius’s entourage believed it unwise to defy the gods’ will, and they attempted to convey these sentiments to their leader. But, as if in reply, a partisan named Blossius emerged from the crowd and strode up to Tiberius. “It would be a shame,” he told the tribune, “if Tiberius, a son of Gracchus and a champion of the Roman people, for fear of a raven should refuse to obey the summons of his fellow citizens.” Standing in the street, Tiberius remained still—for once, unsure of what to do next. But when reports reached him of his likely victory, he made up his mind. He would ignore the divine signals and witness his win.27

Our sources become murky once Tiberius arrived at the Forum. Some argue that Tiberius armed his followers before the vote, while others omit this detail entirely. 28 Perhaps deep down, the tribune was truly disturbed by the omens that morning and took measures to insure himself against divine displeasure. But, weapons or none, scattered fights exploded into full-blown violence after Tiberius’s arrival. These disturbances delayed the elections.

Those who fled the clashes frantically spread rumours throughout the city. Some said Tiberius drove the anti-Gracchan factions out of the Assembly and declared himself king. Others said Tiberius had deposed his co-tribunes.29 The Senate soon was aware of the situation and requested that a consul be dispatched to quell the unrest. Both consuls refused.30

Taking matters into his own hands, Publius Nasica declared to an anxious Senate he would march to the Assembly and confront Tiberius himself. Accompanying him was a small army of senators, guards, and servants armed with an array of household objects (table legs, clubs, etc.). When the party reached the Assembly, they began attacking the pro-Gracchan partisans.

It was a slaughter from the start. The well-disciplined senators, many of whom were veterans, crushed the pro-Gracchans with their makeshift weapons and won the day. Tiberius attempted to flee, but didn’t make it far. He tripped on a bench and was unceremoniously beaten to death by Nasica’s supporters.31

Tiberius was the first of many to die in the tumultuous Late Republic. His struggle formed battle lines that would last the better part of the century. This was the first clash between two visions of Rome—power wielded through institutions or power wielded through the people—and it wouldn’t be the last.

But most importantly, 133 BCE represented the first cracks in mos maiorum. During his tribunate, Tiberius Gracchus and his contemporaries broke five key rules:

1. Instead of submitting his land commission bill to the Senate for consideration, Tiberius cut the senators out entirely and immediately proposed the legislation to the Assembly.

2. Tribunes were not supposed to be deposed, even by popular vote. Many sources considered Tiberius’s move to be unconstitutional.

3. By co-opting Pergamon into his land reform proposals, Tiberius upset the balance of power between the Senate and the Assembly and infringed upon the Senate’s right to manage international affairs.

4. Running for multiple terms as tribune was frowned upon by most Romans and contributed to Tiberius’s demise. For many, this move seemed like an attempt to secure kingship, even though this was not what Tiberius intended.

5. In killing Tiberius, Nasica and the anti-Gracchans broke the aura of tribunal sacrosanctity. Never again would tribunes consistently be protected from violence.

The fifth point is critical to our story. The casualness with which Tiberius was cut down proved to many that Rome’s unwritten rules could buckle with enough force. Now it seemed, such edicts were simply suggestions. But no one dared exploit the gap. Tiberius’s death restrained any remaining agitators, putting enough fear in them that they hesitated—for now.

As it would be for the next hundred years, the people were instrumental in shaping the situation. But in this case, most sided with the institutionalists. The public outcry over Tiberius’s actions suggests they wanted to preserve the Republic. No one wished for the Republic’s time-tested institutions to change radically. It would not always be this way.

Ultimately, Tiberius’s land commission outlived its creator. According to Plutarch, the anti-Gracchans dared not touch such a popular program and kept it in place.32 Modern scholars disagree and instead believe the anti-Gracchans’ actions indicated narrow disagreements with Tiberius’s breach of custom rather than with his populist program.33 Either way, the commission continued its work without its primary creator.

As the memory of Tiberius’s tribunate faded away, a sense of normalcy slowly returned to Rome. Government business resumed. The factions retired to their respective corners. All was quiet.

It seemed a sense of calmness came over Tiberius’s brother, Gaius, as well. He resolved to live out a life of peace and dared not enter the republican arena that claimed his brother’s life. But later, sleeping in his house, Tiberius allegedly appeared to him in a dream. “Why do you hesitate, Gaius?” his brother’s ghost told him. “There is no escape; one life is fated for us both, and one death as champions of the people.”34 Motivated by this vision, Gaius vowed to follow his brother to the tribunate and to ruin. Rome would never be the same.

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Welcome to The Unwritten Rules Break First, a series exploring the ancient Roman Republic’s lengthy collapse and its modern-day parallels. Below you will find my preface to this work, as well as links to other sections.

Why I Wrote This Series

This series is a warning.

In the popular consciousness, we tend to focus on democratic regimes that collapse suddenly—think interwar Germany. The truth is not as simple. Many regimes undergo a period of ‘slow rot’ that erodes their institutions before ultimately collapsing the state, oftentimes right under our noses. It is this phenomenon that I want to examine in this series, through the lens of the Late Roman Republic.

Why Rome? Simple. In the long history of the world, no country had a more celebrated democratic tradition than in Rome. Unlike many modern democracies that quickly collapsed (Weimar Germany, pre-Putin Russia, etc.), the Romans built a strong democratic tradition that helped the Republic endure for 500 years. This makes its collapse even more interesting, as it could provide clues for how long-lasting regimes collapse and how to preserve them. In a polarized world with many durable democracies on the brink, such clues will be crucial to understanding our current moment.

Why now? As an American, I fear our country is traveling the same path Rome did on its way to collapse: small abuses committed by political factions leading to wider societal breaches, desensitizing and normalizing undemocratic behavior. We see this behavior manifested in increased political violence, heated rhetoric, and intense polarization. We see it when our leaders discredit institutions, and both sides view each other as enemies. But it is also my belief that we have not fallen off the cliff yet. There is still time to course correct, and I believe people must understand this phenomenon before it is too late.

I am not an expert in Roman history. I am merely a college student with a passion for politics and a willingness to find historical parallels to our current moment. Allegedly, Mark Twain once said that “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” This is my best attempt at encapsulating that statement. I hope you enjoy what follows.

Mike Markarian
July 14, 2025

A Note About AI

Generative AI was not used to write any part of this work. However, I did use AI (specifically, ChatGPT-o3) to help research and edit The Unwritten Rules Break First. Such uses included:

• Gathering online sources: When researching specific individuals or events, I used AI to generate a list of sources to examine before writing. I then read all available literature from this index and sought out additional perspectives to inform my thinking. Such sources can be found in each chapter’s footnotes. A guide to the ancient sources can be found under “A Note on Sources.”

• Recommending developmental and line-level edits: After I wrote each chapter, I asked AI to examine its structure and flow, then make recommendations based on its observations. I then decided whether or not to incorporate these recommendations into my work.

• Limited Fact-Checking: To verify my information, I sent various drafts over to AI for fact-checking. Oftentimes, I had to fact-check the fact-checker, as it occasionally produced unreliable results and false data. To parse out its errors, I implemented guardrails. For example, I forced the AI to provide links backing up all claims. I subsequently confirmed all verifications and only adjusted my work after I referenced additional sources.

A full copy of my chat logs is available upon request.

Table of Contents

A Note About Sources

Introduction

A Guide to the Roman Republic

Part I - Slow Burn

"So may all those perish who attempt such crimes"

"By violence and the sword, men's controversies are now decided"

Further sources will be added as new chapters are released.

A Guide to the Roman Republic

Quintus Tullius Cicero (Disputed)

De petitione consulatus - Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh (N/A)

Polybius

Histories, Book VI - Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh (1889)

"So perish all others who on such wickedness venture"

Appian

The Civil Wars - Translated by Horace White (1913)

Marcus Tullius Cicero

De Divinatione - Translated by W. A. Falconer (1923)

Diodorus Siculus

Bibliotheca Historica - See website for translators

Florus

The Epitome of Roman History - Translated by E. S. Forster (1929)

Plutarch

The Life of Tiberius Gracchus - Translated by Bernadotte Perrin (N/A)

Polybius

Histories, Book VI - Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh (1889)

Velleius Paterculus

The Roman History - Translated by Frederick W. Shipley (1924)

“By violence and the sword, men's controversies are now decided.”

Appian

The Civil Wars - Translated by Horace White (1913)

Augustine of Hippo

The City of God - Translated by Marcus Dods (1887)

Aurelius Victor

De Viris Illustribus - Translated by Franz Pichlmayr (1911)

Marcus Tullius Cicero

Brutus - Translated by E. Jones (1776)

Diodorus Siculus

Bibliotheca Historica - See website for translators

Livy

History of Rome - Translated by Jona Lendering (N/A)

Orosius

The Seven Books of History Against the Pagans - Translated by I.W. Raymond (1936)

Plutarch

The Life of Tiberius Gracchus - Translated by Bernadotte Perrin (1921)

The Life of Caius Gracchus - Translated by Bernadotte Perrin (1921)

Velleius Paterculus

The Roman History - Translated by Frederick W. Shipley (1924)

Inscriptions

Fasti Triumphales - Translated by Attilio Degrassi (1954)

Click here for the master post of this series, with links to all other sections at the bottom of the page.

This series focuses on the Roman Republic’s collapse, in all of its inglorious magnificence. We will examine greedy politicians, impotent ‘defenders of the system,’ and the institutions caught in the crossfire. Our journey will take us through how Roman society progressed from tolerating minor social breaches to a full-blown breakdown.

Because the Republic’s collapse started within its rulebook, we should begin this story by examining the rulebook itself. So, what was the Roman Republic like before its fall? What enabled its government to last so long but fall so fast?

The Republican Government: A Broad Overview

The Republican government was built on simmering civil conflicts. In its early years, class warfare threatened to tear the government apart. On one side were the patricians, landowning elites seeking to maintain their iron grip on the government. Opposing them were the plebeians, lower-class citizens who wanted more power in the political process. Over time, the plebeians wrangled concessions from the patricians until they achieved full political equality in the early 200s BCE.1 Out of this struggle arose a government with checks and balances like those in the United States. A variety of institutions sought to preserve this balance.

The Senate was a body of 300 (later 600) current and former magistrates who handled public criminal investigations, debated legislative proposals, and sent delegations to neighboring countries. They held the power of the purse for most spending, which meant they indirectly controlled construction and public works projects. Since their members were highly respected and experienced, officials usually consulted the body on urgent political matters. It was also customary for the Senate to vet bills before a popular vote, providing an informal check on the populace’s worst impulses.2

Additionally, the Senate handled most of Rome’s judicial business. They oversaw a series of courts that tried individuals for various crimes. Of note was the Extortion Court, which punished public officials for bribery and embezzlement. But since most magistrates were senators, accountability was rare. A series of high-profile acquittals throughout the 100s led to increased calls for reform, a flashpoint that foreshadowed future conflicts.3

The Assembly was the Republic’s democratic element. It was not one body but rather multiple organizations with different powers. There were two types of popular assembly: a contio (simple public meetings for debates and speeches) and a comitia (meetings with legal consequences). There were three subtypes of comitia, but only two are important for our story:

The comitia centuriata (centuriate assembly) had the power to elect major magistrates, impose the death penalty upon convicts, declare war, and make peace. It included all citizens, but was dominated by the elites. This was due to its structure, which sorted citizens into wealth-based groups. The Republic gave the most votes to the upper-class units, granting them an edge over everyone else. This setup gave the elites some control over the weightiest issues of the day, even though these powers were supposedly the people’s.4

The comitia tributa (tribal assembly) oversaw major legislative business and elected minor magistrates. It was, in reality, two separate institutions with nearly identical powers. The only difference between the two was that one included all citizens and the other excluded patricians. Unlike the centuriate assembly, all citizens in the tribal assembly were distributed amongst one of 35 ‘tribes,’ each with a single vote.5 Since all citizens were on even footing, debates were heated and votes were uncertain. However, these same qualities made it the most democratic of all the Republic’s institutions.

Even within this supposedly ‘democratic’ branch of government, we can see the faint outlines of inequality. Votes in different assemblies could have wildly different results, with the centuriate assembly skewing more conservative compared to its tribal counterpart. What if one body gained power at another’s expense? The repercussions could be enormous—it would be akin to a social group gaining dominance over all others.

So far, we have examined the Republic’s legislative and judicial functions. “But,” you might be asking yourself, “what was the executive like? How were the laws enforced?” To answer these questions, we need to examine a peculiar aspect of the Roman framework: the cursus honorum.

The Cursus Honorum

The cursus honorum was a unique system regulating the careers of aspiring politicians. It forced everyone to follow the same path up the Republic’s ranks, from minor roles to the pinnacle of political power. Ten years of military service were a prerequisite to enter.6 Unless otherwise noted, most magistrates served one-year terms.

The first step in a typical political career was a quaestorship. These officials oversaw the Republic’s finances; most worked in Rome’s various provinces or the city itself. Usually, their assignments were decided by lot. But occasionally, magistrates hand-picked quaestors to serve under their command (for example, if a family member or talented individual caught their eye). Most quaestors were 27 to 30 years old upon taking office.7 Remember, most of these officials served in the legions before their political careers!

The next rung on the ladder was murkier. Two years after their quaestorship, eligible individuals could either run for an aedileship or attempt to become a tribune of the plebs. Ex-quaestors could skip this step, but each position brought power and prestige required to boost an aspiring politician’s career.8

Aediles were responsible for maintaining infrastructure, prosecuting wrongdoers, and throwing games (gladiatorial fights, etc.).9 While these were important obligations, an aedileship could be a springboard for higher offices. For example, a wealthy aedile could become extremely popular by funding public works projects or entertaining the people. Now well-known, he could then parlay his successes into electoral victories.

Plebeians had an additional political opportunity via the plebeian tribunate. Despite its low ranking on the cursus honorum, the ten tribunes wielded an extraordinary amount of power. Not only did they have the power to propose laws to the Assembly, but they were considered sacrosanct by most Romans. According to scholars, this meant “anyone who might compel, harm, or kill a tribune would be declared accursed, their life and property forfeit.”10 Therefore, tribunes were largely immune to coercion and political threats.

This power gave the tribunes influence over the Republican government, inspiring a series of informal abilities. Chief among these was intercessio, the ability for tribunes to veto any governmental proceeding. Consider the implications of this ability. Theoretically, a single individual could stop anything in the government: crucial votes, magisterial elections, even Senate meetings.11 The only condition, according to contemporary scholars, was that the tribunes had to act in the people’s interest.12 As you can imagine, this was a flimsy requirement—one we will explore soon.

After serving as an aedile or a plebeian tribune, politicians competed to become one of six praetors. These officials held imperium, the ability to lead armies and execute the laws. The Senate assigned many praetors to governorships, overseeing the Republic’s provinces throughout Southern Europe and North Africa. However, their power was limited by the consuls, their superiors. Praetors could not interfere with a consul’s actions, but a consul could overrule a praetor. Since the consuls were not often in Rome, however, it usually fell to the praetors to oversee day-to-day governmental business.13

Finally, the pinnacle of the cursus honorum was the consuls. Elected by the people annually, they held supreme military power, monitored elections, oversaw the Assemblies, and managed public funds. Due to the Roman people’s fear of kings, however, there were not one but two consuls elected annually. They could veto each other’s rulings, balancing authority. They could also overrule lesser magistrates, except for the plebeian tribunes.14

There were restrictions on who could serve as a consul. Only ex-praetors could run for the office. Those under 42 years old were automatically ineligible. Ex-consuls could run again, but only ten years after their previous consulship. This created a very exclusive group of individuals, usually only three to eight, who ran for the office each year.15

Under special circumstances, the consuls could appoint a dictator. This individual held supreme decision-making authority, though their term was time-limited to prevent an easy coup d'état. The position existed for expediency’s sake, as deliberation was unhelpful during emergencies. But when it came to appointments, other branches of the Republic had roles to play; for example, the Senate helped nominate candidates.16 The dictatorship was instrumental in the Republic’s final years, as its extraordinary abilities proved alluring to power-hungry politicians.

Many ex-consuls became censors. They maintained the census (list of all Roman citizens and property) and were responsible for all revenue collection and public works contracts with private individuals. The censors were also stewards of Republican morality. They could strip a citizen of voting rights and their senatorial rank for scandalous behavior, for example.17

Just because all politicians followed the same path doesn’t mean they were created equal. Who rose and fell depended on class and birthplace, a problem present throughout all of Roman society.

Republican Social Tensions

There’s a common misconception that Ancient Rome was a unified society. The thinking goes that whether you’re in Rome or Greece, Spain or Egypt, most individuals were Roman citizens. At the dawn of our story in the 2nd century BCE, this narrative was patently false.

Take Italy, for example. A map may show Roman domination over the peninsula, but the reality is more complicated. Underlying Republican control was a tangled web of citizenship laws, relics from decades of conquest. Most people living close to the city were full citizens, while those further away had limited rights. Some could vote and had other privileges (a status called Latin Rights), but many inhabitants were considered mere allies with no political rights at all.18 This unequal arrangement upset many Italians, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Rebelling against the Roman machine was ludicrous, as it would take a united Italian force to challenge the Republic (keep this in mind for later).

The rigid nature of Roman society also alienated many citizens. The senatorial class (descended from the patricians of old) held most of the power and wealth in the Republic, and they had a vested interest in maintaining the current order. But those underneath clamored for reform. The equestrians, the class immediately below the senators, wanted greater political benefits. As senators were banned from conducting business, many equestrians were wealthy merchants who hoped to turn their riches into increased rights and privileges.19 The plebeians, Rome’s middle and lower classes, were also a significant force for change. Independent and extremely sensitive to elite encroachment, they could be counted on to resist if the wealthy became too powerful.20

Thus far, we’ve examined the Republic’s structures and the tensions threatening to tear it apart. So why did it take 400 years for it to collapse? The answer lies not in its formal institutions but rather in its unwritten rules and norms.

Mos Maiorum - The Glue Holding the Republic Together

Underpinning the Roman Republic was a system called mos maiorum. In English, this translates to ‘the way of the elders.’ This was not a law code but rather a system of informal norms that underpinned Roman society. There is no universal definition for what constitutes mos maiorum, so here are two examples:

Client-patron relationships

Remember that the ancient world was built on localized relationships. How could one trust, therefore, individuals outside of their immediate circle? What if, for example, an individual had to conduct business in another city? The client-patron network solved this problem, generating trust across classes and constituencies.

Almost every Roman was a client or a patron. Clients supported their patrons by offering their loyalty and material support. In return, patrons provided their clients with access to a network of trusted individuals and fulfilled their requests.21 To return to our earlier travel example, a client might ask their patron to connect them with people at their destination. If the patron consented, the targeted individuals had to comply (as refusing to do so would break their bond with their patron).

These relationships were less about money than prestige. Every morning, clients would rush to their patron’s house to greet them before conducting daily business.22 Imagine what this looked like at the wealthiest patrons’ houses—the crowds must have been enormous! It was a signal to the rest of society: these individuals were the biggest fish in the pond. It surely must have been an ego-booster.

Patronage was a mighty force in Roman politics. Wealthy citizens could count on their client network’s unqualified support. This was possible because, at the time of our story, all votes were public. Voters had to verbally announce their ballot to a magistrate, usually with their patron lurking nearby. The system ensured accountability, though it severely restricted a voter’s options.23 But if voting were to become a private affair, the whole system would fall apart.

Sacred Boundaries

One of Rome’s most striking features was its pomerium, a symbolic boundary encompassing most of the city centre. Its original significance was religious, although it’s unknown who created it. According to modern scholars, the ancient Romans could only look for omens from their gods to guide their decisions within its borders.24 For a very religious community, therefore, this space was sacred and was to be protected at all costs.

Over time, a set of rules and superstitions surrounding the pomerium appeared. The most recognizable of these were its restrictions on military activity. Commanders could not exercise their full powers inside the pomerium (they were unable to execute citizens, for example), nor could they bring weapons within its limits.25

In a way, the pomerium represented the last line of defense of mos maiorum. The strongest sacred obligations, paired with how it ‘disarmed’ military leaders, separated the military and civilian world. Rome’s citizens knew its implications—if the pomerium was breached, the Republic as they knew it was gone. The civil would become the martial, and their revered customs would no longer apply.

If you asked yourself while reading these examples, “What stopped anyone from disregarding mos maiorum?”, then congratulations! You have identified a massive weakness in the Republic’s structure. Norms and customs only work if everyone plays by the same rules. More importantly, all citizens had to police the system. If anyone stepped out of line, their comrades pulled them back in.

This system works when a country is unified, and is especially effective during times of war (as a patriotic populace would quash dissent). But this was not the case during the Late Roman Republic. You now know that there was rampant inequality and distrust between social classes, which were the first cracks to appear in Rome’s glittering facade. By 135 BCE, these fissures were clear for all to see. All it needed was a politician with a sledgehammer to break the system down.

Click here for the master post of this series, with links to all other sections at the bottom of the page.

I woke up yesterday morning to a curious headline. In his final hours in office, now-former President Joe Biden issued preemptive pardons to several individuals (including many of his family members) who may be targeted under the new Trump administration, shielding them from future prosecution. Though shocked, I was not surprised.

On its surface, the idea makes sense. Trump constantly vowed revenge against his enemies during his presidential campaign. Even after his Nov. 5 victory, he continued this rhetoric. “For what they did, honestly, they should go to jail,” he said in a December 8 interview with Meet the Press—referring to the members of a House committee that investigated the Capitol riots on January 6, 2021. When asked if his administration would investigate his enemies, he simply responded: “If they were crooked, if they did something wrong, if they have broken the law, probably.”

And many of Trump’s potential targets are feeling the heat, too. The New York Times interviewed many of them anonymously a few days ago. One senior White House official explained his plan succinctly: “Step One: Take a long vacation on the opposite side of the globe. Step Two: Fly home and hire a lawyer.” Many others expressed fear they would lose private-sector jobs or be prosecuted by the new administration.

It is a tense time in Washington. And no one should have to live under the threat of prosecution for a crime they haven’t committed. That being said, preemptive pardons might not help the situation or even make it worse.

For starters, preemptive pardons don’t eliminate most of Trump’s tactics. His strategy is largely based on intimidation and fear. Could these pardons curb the most extreme threat, unjust prosecutions? Perhaps. But they do nothing to stop a host of other concerns: public harassment, private pressure, violence. Make no mistake—a pardon is not a safety blanket. It acts as a legal shield and nothing more.

There are graver implications. What happens at the end of Trump’s term in 2029? Will he preemptively pardon everyone under his watch? Is this the start of a never-ending cycle where the President’s most loyal advisors get off the hook at the end of each term?

That fate is not without precedent. A similar cycle occurred when Senate Democrats in 2013 used the ‘nuclear option’ to force through certain judicial nominees with only 50 ‘yes’ votes. Their rationale was to prevent Republicans from blocking their nominees through a filibuster, which took 60 votes to break. But it ultimately did more harm than good.

When Republicans retook the chamber four years later, they used the nuclear option to push through multiple Supreme Court nominees on party lines. Then-Minority Leader Mitch McConnell’s vow to Democrats that “you may regret [using the nuclear option] a lot sooner than you think” came true, and it led to three Republican justices on the Court who might not have been able to get past the previous 60-vote threshold.

Following this logic, preemptive pardons may prevent legal investigations of abuses within the new Trump administration in four years. What if Trump issues blanket pardons to his officials? Democrats may be stuck.

More worryingly, what if Trump issues preemptive pardons to officials before they execute certain policies? Could this let staffers carry out plans without fear of criminal punishment? One may argue that Trump could do these things without Biden’s preemptive pardons, but it certainly gives him cover. Give an inch, take a mile.

You may be wondering why I haven’t addressed the legal implications of these pardons yet. While I suspect we may see a Supreme Court case down the road, the simple fact is that an unprecedented action like this will naturally have legal challenges. But the changes in presidential practice worry me more.

Preemptive pardons eliminate accountability. They remove the possibility of prosecuting criminal acts for both parties and will ultimately hide evidence that the legal process uncovers. Again, do I believe many of Trump’s adversaries deserve retribution? Of course not. But preemptive pardons remove accountability for one’s actions and shield them from legal consequences.

Ultimately, our only hope to stop the abuse of pardon power may be for future Presidents to exercise restraint toward it. Unfortunately, restraint is in short supply. Yesterday, President Donald Trump pardoned most people convicted for their role in the January 6 riots—extending the cycle of unaccountability that transcends political parties. It seems that, given the state of our system, this cycle will not stop soon. A wholesale restoration of democratic ideals and agreement on what is acceptable may be needed to change things.

This restoration begins with us. Preemptive pardons may seem minor, but they are emblematic of a lack of accountability on both sides of the aisle. As a country, we must strive to be better. We must hold our leaders to a higher standard, stay informed, learn to listen to different perspectives and take others’ opinions to heart. Together, we can start rebuilding the ‘rules of the game’ we’ve broken. By doing so, we can begin to escape our cycle of unaccountability and reestablish trust in government.

Elon Musk’s plan to cut $2 trillion from the federal budget has generated a lot of buzz lately. But it’s unlikely Musk and DOGE will achieve this goal. Here’s why.

What’s Musk’s Plan?

Aided by executive orders, Musk says he wants to cut regulations first. Fewer regulations mean fewer people needed to implement them, so Musk would also like to reduce the size of the federal workforce. Many federal employees have protections against arbitrary firings, so Musk hopes to work with President-elect Trump on authorizing general 'reductions in force.' These layoffs would not target specific employees. Rather, they would likely take advantage of the President's power to shape rules surrounding the bureaucracy.

Additionally, Musk says he wants to cut federal spending. Musk says DOGE may work to eliminate unauthorized or misused expenses and streamline how the government buys goods from non-government sources. Musk also believes President-elect Trump can decline to spend funds allocated by Congress to federal programs, a process called impoundment. To do this, the Trump administration might attempt to overturn the 1974 Impoundment Control Act, which bars the President from this practice. It remains unclear if such an action would survive legal challenges.

Importantly, DOGE is not a government department. Instead, it will function as an outside advisory panel, recommending changes to Congress and the Trump administration. This is why much of Musk’s plan focuses on cooperating with others—DOGE itself has no power!

What Do People Think?

Republican politicians largely support spending cuts but differ on where they should be made. Politico recently reported that some want to cut funding for federal agencies and the Department of Defense, but others want to find savings in big-ticket programs like Medicaid.

Despite widespread Democratic opposition to DOGE, some Democrats seem willing to work with it on various issues. Representative Jared Moskowitz (D-FL) became the first Democrat to join a new Congressional DOGE caucus earlier this month, saying recently that he would not “shy away from the overall conversation that government can't become more efficient.” And last week, Representative Ro Khanna (D-CA) mentioned he wanted to work with DOGE to reduce defense spending. Time will tell if more Democrats jump on board, but there seems to be an appetite for consensus emerging within the Democratic Party.

As for the American public? Though polling is sparse, a recent survey of 1,000 people on the ActiVote app shows a slim majority (52%) agree with DOGE’s mission. But be skeptical of that number, as polls can be notoriously unreliable.

DOGE: Easier Said than Done?

There is little debate that the national debt's rapid growth is a serious problem. Last year, the federal government added $1.8 trillion to the debt and spent more on interest payments than defense. Our current debt level of $35 trillion is unsustainable, and spending cuts are necessary. But there’s more to this story than dollars and cents suggest.

Contrary to popular belief, it's tough to cut most of the federal budget. This is because of how Congress distributes money to federal programs. There are two main spending categories to pay attention to: mandatory and discretionary.

With mandatory spending, funds are allocated via federal statute. Essentially, Congress creates and funds a program within the same law. A whopping 60 percent of all federal spending is mandatory, so over half of the federal budget cannot be altered except by changing the relevant statutes.

What about the remaining 40 percent? Much of this portion falls under discretionary spending. Congress has a bit more flexibility with this category; they get to choose who gets to spend what. Those choices are decided through the appropriations process—crafting bills determining where spending goes. Generally, there are 12 appropriations bills; one for each subcommittee under the House Appropriations Committee (Defense, State, etc.). Congress must pass all of them to keep the government funded. If they do not, there will be a partial government shutdown. The shutdown will only affect areas where corresponding funding bills have not been passed, and many programs (such as Medicare and Social Security) are left relatively undisturbed.

Spending fights on the Hill usually revolve around discretionary spending. Musk and DOGE would likely have the most success recommending reforms in this category due to a friendly, Republican-led Congress. The issue? Discretionary spending only amounts to about $1.6 trillion. So even if Musk gutted all discretionary spending (including all military funding), he would still be short of his goal.

Take out defense spending, which many Republicans seem reluctant to cut, and the situation gets worse. At that point, there’s only about $760 billion in discretionary spending left, which doesn’t give DOGE much wiggle room. Musk would probably have to find cuts on the mandatory side, but even that’s difficult since many mandatory programs (especially Social Security and Medicare) are popular among the public.

Changes in Musk’s rhetoric reflect this reality. Musk asserted he could eliminate $2 trillion from the federal budget a week before Election Day. By his Wall Street Journal piece three weeks later, the word ‘trillion’ wasn’t even mentioned within the article. It appears even the wealthiest man in the world changes his tune when facing the facts.

Musk may bring back impoundment as the solution to this mess—why wrangle with Congress when Trump can cut spending on his own? Yet impoundment is a thorny legal issue with no clear consensus on whether it would stand up to legal scrutiny. Some, like Professor Zachary S. Price at UC Law San Francisco, believe the President cannot disregard spending mandates (with limited exceptions). Others, such as former Office of Management and Budget general counsel Mark Paoletta, contend that Presidents historically wielded impoundment often and that the Impoundment Control Act is unconstitutional. It’s uncharted legal territory with a murky outcome.

If not cuts, then what?

If spending cuts alone won’t balance the budget, what can? Some say increasing taxes could help fix the problem. They point to the United States' low tax rate relative to its peers. To them, raising the tax rate closer to other countries can cover the nearly $2 trillion gap between revenue and expenses.

This solution alone would likely not work, though it could help. Americans are notoriously tax-averse, so pushing through massive tax increases would likely be unpopular. Even increasing taxes on wealthier individuals and corporations, which most Americans support, might not be enough to cover the funding gap.

Increased enforcement might also generate more revenue for the government. In 2022, the IRS did not receive over $600 billion in owed taxes, with only a fraction clawed back through enforcement. More funding toward pursuing these offenses and greater oversight could lower this number and boost government revenues. But again, it alone would barely decrease the debt.

So what’s the best path forward? It may be a bit of everything above—tax increases, spending cuts, and tax enforcement. There is no single solution to this mess—the United States is far past that point. But with drastic action from multiple angles, we might be able to chart a different path.

Have a great weekend and happy holidays.

Looking for more on this issue? I’ve included some additional coverage below.

WSJ - Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy: The DOGE Plan to Reform Government (November 20, 2024)

BBC - What we know about Musk's cost-cutting mission (December 5, 2024)

Fox Business - Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy point to DOGE targets (December 15, 2024)

Business Insider - Here's what we know so far about who's working on DOGE (December 18, 2024)

Politico - DOGE Can’t Do It All. Here’s What It Can Do. (December 19, 2024)

Well, folks, Election Day is finally over. Donald Trump took back the Presidency, and Republicans won the Senate. The House is still in play for both parties as we await more results. What happened? Let’s take a look.

Trump Wins the Presidency

The presidential race was a victory for Republicans, with Donald Trump winning the Electoral College and (possibly) the popular vote. Shockingly, Trump managed to match or build on his 2020 support in every state. This phenomenon was especially pronounced in Democratic-leaning areas—California, New York, and New Jersey all saw 10-point Republican swings from four years ago.

This is the opposite of what I expected. Evidence shows many conservatives considered leaving states like California over the past few years (and I suspect many did). I thought this population shift would make these states more liberal. But apparently, it didn’t because voters there still swung to Trump.

It’s hard to explain how ugly this is for Democrats. A major party hasn’t made gains everywhere from the previous presidential cycle since at least 1980, if not earlier. Ronald Reagan’s landslide victory that year was the closest—relative to 1976, he increased support in every state except Vermont.

Trump’s win was not decisive, however. Vice President Kamala Harris still garnered 70 million votes and hung onto all major Democratic strongholds. Yet this election represents a fracturing of the Democratic base. According to the Associated Press, Trump made gains among key Democratic blocs—especially 18-to-29-year-olds, Black voters, and Hispanic voters.

It was telling that the economy was the most important issue for voters this year. As I said on Wednesday, Democrats did a particularly poor job reassuring voters about the economy—and it showed. Voters interviewed by the Associated Press rated Trump higher on that issue than Harris, and 6 in 10 said the economy was not good or poor.

State-Level Polling

I initially believed state-level polls were underrating Harris. Instead, they underestimated Donald Trump’s support for the third straight election cycle. While poll margins were generally more accurate than in 2020, they failed again to predict the extent of Trump’s victory. Overall, they missed by an average of 2.8 points, greater than in 2016.

I also suspected polls were under-weighting abortion’s impact on this election, but I was wrong again. Rather, an interesting phenomenon emerged where ballot measures protecting abortion passed in many states while Trump held onto his 2020 margins or increased support. I’m not sure why this is, but I suspect voters felt Trump and abortion were two separate issues and voted accordingly. This might be something I may examine in a future article.

Iowa

I talked a lot on Election Day about Ann Selzer’s Iowa poll and what it meant for the presidential race. I concluded Selzer was likely off but the poll offered evidence of a late Harris swing from independent voters. While I was correct that the poll was misleading, I didn’t expect it to miss by 16 percent. Selzer’s poll had Harris up three points statewide, but Trump carried Iowa by 13 instead. This illustrates the pitfalls of modern polling: sometimes the numbers you get are just plain wrong. In this case, though, I suspect the methodology had a bit to do with it—Selzer used random digit dialing (calling random telephone numbers in the state and hoping people respond), which can be notoriously finicky.

The Senate

As expected, Republicans took back the Senate. They picked up victories in Montana, West Virginia, and Ohio—all in line with pundits’ estimates. They also managed to win in Pennsylvania, a surprise given that some believed Democrats could hold that seat. This gives Republicans at least a six-seat majority over Democrats.

Some races were less close than I thought. Take Nebraska, for example. Many pollsters noted that independent Dan Osborn had a chance to steal one of Nebraska’s seats, but incumbent Republican Deb Fischer managed to win comfortably.

This was a tough map for Democrats to win. With Joe Manchin retiring in deep-red West Virginia, Jon Tester’s tough fight in Montana, and other swing-state races, the obstacles for Senate Democrats were simply too difficult to overcome. However, this result was far from the worst-case scenario—Democrats still held the line in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Nevada, and Arizona is still counting ballots. Democrats can only hope Ruben Gallego can win that race to limit the damage.

The House of Representatives

Even as I write this article, results from House races are trickling in from across the country. Four days after Election Day, many are still too close to call.

There were nine key races I paid attention to on Election Day. So far, the Associated Press has called four of these for Democrats and four for Republicans. California’s 45th District is still too close to call, with Republican Michelle Steel up by about three points on Democrat Derek Tran. We won’t know California’s results for a while, though—California will continue to receive and count mail-in ballots through November 12.

As it currently stands, Democrats have a slim path to a House majority but Republicans seem poised to maintain control. At the time of publication, the Associated Press has called 212 seats for Republicans, six shy of an outright majority. Meanwhile, only 200 seats have been called for Democrats. States will continue to release results over the next couple of days—pay attention to them, as these final races will determine who takes the House.

Conclusion

It was a tough night for Democrats and a good one for Republicans, though not the most extreme scenario for either party. I say this because Congressional races were not a wipeout for Democrats—on the contrary, their losses seem relatively limited. That isn’t to say these losses are significant, however; Republicans could have a government trifecta, making it much easier to pass policy. But we will have to wait for the remaining House results to come to a definitive conclusion.

I won’t bother explaining why this happened—I already discussed it before and likely will again soon. But the evidence is clear: Republicans successfully made inroads into the Democratic coalition. Democrats now have to think long and hard about what they must do to win them back.

The electoral map as of 9:15am on November 6 - 270toWin

On November 5, 2024, Donald Trump won a decisive majority in the Electoral College, becoming the first president since Grover Cleveland in 1892 to win two non-consecutive presidential terms. In a shock to pollsters, he managed to carry at least five of the seven swing states seen as critical to the presidency and will, in all likelihood, win the popular vote. 

How did it go so wrong for Democrats? Let us reexamine the race and understand what led up to this moment—a series of unforced errors that will likely shape the course of the United States and the world.

The race was botched from the start. It took Joe Biden until July to finally drop out of the election, giving Democrats only 100 days to get their act together. This was error number one, nullifying what could have been a top issue for Democrats: age. By the end of his second term, Donald Trump will be 82 years old. But because Biden looked so much worse on the debate stage, no one cared. Republicans sat back and watched as one of their biggest liabilities faded away.

Democrats shot themselves in the foot again when it came time to nominate Biden’s successor. Instead of listening to voters and holding an expedient primary election, the party coalesced around Vice President Kamala Harris and made her the de facto nominee. This was their second mistake. In the minds of many, Democrats were now as undemocratic as Republicans, making their choice a bit easier. To them, Democrats had subverted their constituents—betraying their votes and their will. Now they had lost their legitimacy on democracy, arguably their biggest asset.

For a few months, things seemed optimistic for the former-Biden, now-Harris campaign. Poll numbers were looking up, and Harris was drawing large crowds. “We are not going back!” she enthusiastically proclaimed to millions of Americans.

But in politics, you have to look three ways at once. You must focus on the past but also the present and future. More importantly, you have to define yourself as a candidate. Every political hopeful needs to establish an image: what do you bring to the office that others can’t? The closest we ever got to an answer was from Harris herself:  “Like every new president that comes into office, I will bring my life experiences, my professional experiences, and fresh and new ideas.”

Great. But wouldn’t everybody? Harris and the Democrats had an unprecedented chance to redefine themselves and didn’t. That, frankly, is inexcusable given the stakes. Instead, they resorted to their old bag of tricks—positioning themselves once again as the anti-Trump voice in the room instead of pro-anything-else. 

This is what lost Democrats the election. They offered a vision for the future that relied on not going back to the past. Their inability to give the American public a clear set of policy stances was simply awe-inspiring, moreso because of the policies Republicans were pushing. Rather, they positioned themselves as a vague, ‘status-quo’ party with no outright appeal to millions of Americans whose primary concerns were the economy, immigration, and crime. 

What were Democrats’ stances on these issues? Opaque at best. Inflation? Combat price gouging—reasonable enough, but theoretically even more so compared to Trump’s proposed 20% tariffs. Yet Democrats could not overcome this obstacle, unable to reasonably explain why tariffs would be a bad idea. Immigration? Sign the bi-partisan border bill. As for new ideas? I sure didn’t hear any. 

What about protecting democracy, arguably Democrats’ strongest point? Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by bread-and-butter issues. Four years after Trump’s presidency, Democrats’ warnings rang on deaf ears. By the time they realized this, it was too late. Harris tried pivoting to solutions to inflation and immigration, but the horse was out of the barn. The race was slipping away, and there was little to be done about it. 

It also didn’t help that Harris was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Caught between her 2019 positions and her newfound moderate stances, her support for Israel and calls for a cease-fire, Harris’s record was mixed at best. All the more reason why there should have been an open primary to let voters decide the nomination.

In hindsight, the election was a massive missed opportunity to finally turn the page on Donald Trump and the MAGA movement. Instead, they are ascendant. They now have the White House and the Senate. The House is still up in the air, but trending Republican. This was nothing short of an electoral disaster.

So what happens now for the Democrats? If anything, they must chart a new course. Their old ways have failed—the new Republicans are here to stay. With figures like Donald Trump, Elon Musk, and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. at the helm, who knows where this country will be in four years? If Democrats want to survive in this new environment, they must change their ways.

First, they need to rediscover their roots as the party of Roosevelt. FDR offered solutions when Americans most desperately needed them at the height of the Great Depression. It is up to Democrats to deliver on that promise once again. Instead of running against Republican solutions, they should run for their own. Only in this way can Democrats recapture the magic that produced such enigmatic figures as Kennedy, Clinton, and Obama. They must provide a vision for a future of hope and change. 

Secondly, they need to make bread-and-butter issues the centerpiece of their platform. I still believe enshrining abortion rights and preserving democracy can and should have a key place in the Democratic Party. But as last night showed, they cannot lead to electoral victory alone. They must be partnered with other sensible policies, such as gun control and economic reform.

Finally, the Democratic Party needs to pivot towards the middle. If Jamaal Bowman and Cori Bush’s primary defeats didn’t make that clear, Election Day sure did. America is in the midst of a rightward shift, and Democrats cannot stand still. 

Add it all up, and Democrats have much to learn from last night. One thing is for sure though—if they don’t change their ways, Donald Trump and Republicans will forever be on the march. It will be a long four years, but my belief in American democracy holds fast. Democrats are still strong—they ran one of the greatest money-raising operations this cycle I have ever seen. They have a base of support from 66 million Americans. But if they want to hold their gains and stride confidently into the future, Democrats need to hear these hard truths and learn from them—lest they repeat them.