Not long ago, most Americans — scholars, elected officials and everyday citizens alike — operated under a shared assumption: no president, no matter how brazen, could bend the constitutional order too far before being checked by the courts, Congress or public outrage. But that assumption now teeters on the brink.

Donald Trump’s return to the White House has proven one thing beyond doubt — norms are fragile, and executive power, left unchecked, is an irresistible force. Just weeks into his new term, Trump has tested the limits of the presidency in ways that would have been unthinkable just a decade ago. His use of unilateral executive action, open defiance of judicial oversight and political warfare against independent agencies is not just a continuation of his first term — it is an escalation. History, along with the framers of the Constitution themselves, tells us that once a president starts down this path, the damage to democratic governance is not easily undone.

The constitutional framers feared concentrated power above all else, which is why The Federalist Papers — the intellectual blueprint for the Constitution — warn repeatedly about the dangers of an unchecked executive. In Federalist No. 51, James Madison lays out the case for a system where “ambition must be made to counteract ambition.” No one, not even the president, should wield unchecked authority.

Yet, Trump’s second term has already been defined by an unprecedented use of executive orders, not just to enact policy, but to dismantle the very institutions that constrain presidential power. He has signaled his intent to replace independent civil servants with loyalists, undermine federal agencies that do not bend to his will and openly defy congressional oversight. When the Supreme Court ruled against his latest unilateral action on immigration, he dismissed the decision as “illegitimate” and hinted at ignoring it altogether.

Such defiance of institutional checks is a direct challenge to the very structure of American democracy. In Federalist No. 69, Alexander Hamilton specifically contrasts the powers of the president with those of the British monarch, emphasizing that the president’s authority “would be nominally the same with that of the king of Great Britain, but in substance much inferior to it.” Hamilton highlights that, unlike a monarch, the president is subject to impeachment, has a limited term, and does not possess absolute command over the military or the ability to unilaterally declare war. These are the guardrails, ensuring that no executive could operate beyond the law. But what happens when a president, emboldened by partisanship and political inertia, decides to test those limits?

This is not the first time a president has overreached. Franklin Roosevelt, frustrated by Supreme Court rulings striking down parts of the New Deal, attempted his infamous court-packing scheme in 1937, seeking to dilute judicial independence. Richard Nixon took the imperial presidency to dangerous heights, using the Executive Branch to obstruct justice and punish political opponents. And even Abraham Lincoln, in the throes of civil war, suspended habeas corpus, unilaterally expanding his authority in ways that remain controversial.

But in each of those cases, institutions pushed back. The courts rebuked FDR’s power grab. Congress forced Nixon to resign. And even Lincoln’s actions were challenged, with Chief Justice Roger Taney ruling in Ex parte Merryman (1861) that the suspension of habeas corpus was unconstitutional. The system held, battered but intact.

The difference today is that Congress has become almost inert, its constitutional role steadily eroded over the decades. Presidents from both parties — Obama, Trump in his first term and Biden —have increasingly relied on executive action rather than legislative compromise. What was once an occasional workaround has now become standard practice. We find ourselves at a point where the rule of law itself is being tested.

In Federalist No. 78, Hamilton argued that the judiciary would be the “least dangerous” branch because it relied on neither “force nor will, but merely judgment.” But that assumption is based on the idea that the Executive Branch would respect judicial authority. If a president defies court rulings, ignores subpoenas and declares legal decisions “illegitimate,” what power remains to stop him?

History is clear: unchecked executive power rarely retreats on its own. Countries do not lose democracy in a single moment of crisis; they erode it slowly, through a series of small concessions to presidential authority. First, a subpoena is ignored. Then, an independent prosecutor is dismissed. Soon, judicial rulings are met with defiance. The result is a presidency that functions above the law — something the framers explicitly designed the Constitution to prevent.

Congress must act — not through symbolic rebukes, but by reclaiming its authority. The courts must hold firm. And the American public must recognize that regardless of political allegiance, a presidency without constraints is a dangerous thing. Because once power expands, it does not easily shrink.

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

If we still believe in the Constitution, now is the time to prove it.