The Threat to Constitutional Balance: Madison’s Warning

“The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive, and judiciary, in the same hands…may justly be pronounced the very definition of tyranny.” — James Madison, Federalist No. 47 (wikipedia)

James Madison did not write those words for another country or another century. He wrote them for us.

The Framers of the Constitution were not idealists who believed good leaders would always make good decisions. They were skeptics of power. They had seen what happened when executives escaped meaningful restraints. They understood that liberty is rarely destroyed by a single dramatic event. More often, it is chipped away—one exception, one emergency, one assertion of power at a time.

That is why they built a constitutional system designed to frustrate ambition.

Today, that design is under assault.

Donald Trump has repeatedly argued, through both words and actions, that the presidency should operate with fewer constitutional restraints than the Framers intended. His administration has challenged congressional authority over federal spending, resisted oversight, tested the limits of executive authority in immigration enforcement, and frequently portrayed judicial decisions as political obstacles rather than binding constitutional judgments. Taken together, however, these controversies reveal something larger: a governing philosophy that elevates executive will over Constitutional balance.

The danger is not merely Donald Trump.

The danger is that Americans become accustomed to presidents acting as though constitutional limits are optional.

Madison anticipated exactly this temptation.

In Federalist No. 51, he explained why liberty requires conflict within government itself:

“Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.”

The Constitution was never designed to produce efficiency. It was designed to prevent domination. Congress would resist presidents. Presidents would resist Congress. Courts would restrain both. The resulting friction was not a flaw—it was the very mechanism by which freedom survives.

But friction disappears when one branch refuses to recognize the authority of another.

Congress alone possesses the constitutional power to appropriate federal funds. Article I leaves little doubt that spending decisions belong to the legislative branch. When any administration attempts to redirect, delay, or effectively rewrite congressional spending priorities through executive action, it is not merely engaging in an institutional dispute. It is testing one of the Constitution’s most fundamental separations of power.

Congressional oversight has likewise become an inconvenience to be resisted rather than a constitutional duty to be respected. Oversight is not partisan theater. It exists because the Framers knew that executive officials, left unchecked, would naturally seek greater authority. Investigations, subpoenas, inspectors general, and public accountability are constitutional safeguards—not political annoyances.

Immigration policy illustrates another constitutional tension. The executive branch possesses broad authority to enforce immigration law, but no president is exempt from constitutional constraints. The Fifth Amendment guarantees due process to “persons,” and courts have long recognized that many constitutional protections extend beyond citizenship itself. The strength of a constitutional republic is measured not by how it treats the popular or the powerful, but by whether it honors legal process when doing so is politically inconvenient.

The Fifteenth Amendment reminds us that democracy itself requires constitutional vigilance. Ratified after the Civil War, it prohibits denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race. Every election law should be judged against two constitutional obligations: protecting election integrity and ensuring equal access to the ballot. Neither objective is an excuse for abandoning the other.

Perhaps the greatest constitutional concern arises when the judiciary itself becomes a target.

Alexander Hamilton wrote in Federalist No. 78 that the courts possess “neither force nor will, but merely judgment.” Their authority depends entirely upon the willingness of the executive branch to obey lawful orders. Presidents may criticize judges. They may appeal decisions. They may seek legislative changes. But they cannot preserve constitutional government while treating judicial rulings as optional. (Ron Chernow-Hamilton)

When the executive decides which court orders deserve obedience, the rule of law becomes the rule of one person.

Trump’s defenders argue that every modern president has expanded executive power. They are right.

Franklin Roosevelt transformed the administrative state. Richard Nixon stretched presidential authority until Watergate forced constitutional reckoning. Barack Obama used executive actions when Congress was gridlocked. Joe Biden also faced repeated constitutional challenges to executive initiatives.

But this argument misunderstands the issue.

Constitutional violations do not become constitutional traditions simply because they are repeated.

Every administration that expands executive authority leaves behind powers waiting to be inherited by the next president. Each president points to the actions of his predecessor. Each expansion becomes tomorrow’s precedent. Every exception becomes tomorrow’s norm.

This is how republics decline—not in revolution, but in rationalization.

The Framers expected this.

They assumed every officeholder would want more power than the Constitution allowed. That is precisely why they divided power so carefully. They were designing a government that could survive ambitious leaders—not depend upon their restraint.

George Washington understood this better than anyone. Having defeated the world’s greatest empire, he could easily have remained in power indefinitely. Instead, he surrendered authority voluntarily because he believed republican government depended upon the peaceful transfer and limitation of power. His example became one of the nation’s first constitutional traditions.

The question confronting America today is not whether Donald Trump is uniquely responsible for constitutional erosion. He is not. Executive power has expanded for generations under presidents of both parties.

The question is whether his administration represents another step down that same path—or an acceleration so significant that it permanently alters the constitutional balance envisioned by Madison, Hamilton, and the other Framers.

Americans should answer that question with the Framers’ own words echoing in their minds.

Government was designed to restrain power—not celebrate it.

The Constitution was written to protect liberty—not personalities.

No election, no political party, and no president is more important than the Constitutional order itself.

The Framers gave future generations a republic built upon one radical idea: that law governs rulers, not the other way around.

If Americans lose that principle, they will not lose the Constitution because someone abolished it.

They will lose it because they stopped insisting that those entrusted with power obey it.

And republics rarely survive when their constitutions become merely advisory. So call your Congressman and Senators to remind that we have a CONSTITUTION for a reason and you expect them to abide with it.

T. MICHAEL SMITH

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

The 25th Amendment Is Not a Political Weapon

And That’s the Point

In moments of national anxiety, Americans reach for constitutional tools that promise swift accountability. Few are invoked as quickly—and as loosely—as the Twenty-fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution. Commentators, politicians, and partisans across the spectrum have treated it as a kind of emergency eject button for a president they believe is dangerous.

That’s a mistake. And it’s a dangerous one.

The 25th Amendment was not designed to settle political disputes or correct bad leadership. It exists for one reason: incapacity. Not unpopularity. Not recklessness. Not even abuse of power. Incapacity.

Understanding that distinction isn’t academic, it’s essential to preserving constitutional order.

A Mechanism Built for Crisis, Not Convenience

Section 4 of the amendment is the most dramatic and least understood provision. It lays out a process that is both swift and deliberately hard to sustain. If a president is unable to perform the duties of the office, the vice president and a majority of the Cabinet can declare that incapacity in writing. Power transfers immediately. The vice president becomes Acting President.

That’s the easy part.

What follows is a gauntlet designed to prevent abuse. The president can contest the declaration. If that happens, Congress must step in.  It takes a two-thirds vote in both chambers to keep the president sidelined.

In other words, Section 4 only works if there is overwhelming, bipartisan agreement that the president is genuinely unable to function.

That is not a bug. It’s the whole design.

What It Would Actually Look Like

Strip away the cable news speculation, and a real Section 4 scenario is stark and unsettling.

A president suffers a severe stroke. Or exhibits clear cognitive breakdown. This  would include confusion, inability to process basic information, or failure to respond during a national security emergency. Advisors notice first. Then the Cabinet. The vice president is forced into a decision no one seeks, whether to challenge the authority of the person who appointed them.

If they act, the transfer of power is immediate. Military command, intelligence briefings, executive authority—all shift to the vice president in an instant. Markets react. Allies call. Adversaries watch closely.

And then the fight begins.

The president, almost certainly, contests the move. Now Congress must decide—not in theory, but under pressure, in real time, with the stability of the government at stake. Within days, lawmakers must reach a supermajority consensus on a question that is as medical as it is political.  Is the president truly unable to do the job?

If the answer is anything short of overwhelming agreement, power snaps back to the president.

That’s how high the bar is. And it should be.

The Line We Keep Trying to Blur

In recent years—especially after the January 6 United States Capitol attack—calls to invoke Section 4 grew louder, particularly targeting Donald Trump. Many Americans, understandably alarmed, saw the amendment as a way to act quickly where other mechanisms seemed slow or uncertain.

But here’s the hard truth: even in that extraordinary moment, proving incapacity—not misconduct, not recklessness, but inability—would have been extraordinarily difficult.

And that’s because the amendment draws a bright, necessary line:

  • A president can make dangerous or unpopular decisions and still be capable.
  • A president can behave erratically and still be legally “able.”
  • A president can abuse power—and still not meet the threshold for removal under the 25th Amendment.

Those situations are addressed elsewhere in the Constitution—most notably through impeachment.

Conflating the two isn’t just sloppy thinking. It risks turning a medical and constitutional safeguard into a political weapon.

Why the Restraint Matters

If Section 4 were easy to invoke—or easier to sustain—it would invite constant use. Every period of divided government would carry the temptation to declare the president “unfit.” Every crisis would become a pretext.

The result wouldn’t be accountability. It would be instability.

The genius of the 25th Amendment is that it resists that temptation. It demands not just concern, but consensus. Not just suspicion, but evidence. Not just urgency, but certainty.

The Bottom Line

The 25th Amendment is a constitutional safety valve—but only for the most extreme scenarios. When a president is plainly unable to carry out the duties of the office does it apply.

It is not there to save us from bad leaders.
It is there to save the country from a leader who cannot function at all.

If we forget that—if we start treating incapacity as a matter of opinion rather than fact—we don’t just misuse the amendment.

We weaken the very system it was designed to protect.

T. Michael Smith  

wwwtmichaelsmith.com