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Judgment / July 17, 2026 / 10 min read

The Lost Art of Constitutional Judgment: Why Executive Action Fails the Republic

You have heard the usual shouting match. A Republican president issues a travel ban, and the left screams "dictator." A Democrat cancels student debt by...

You have heard the usual shouting match. A Republican president issues a travel ban, and the left screams "dictator." A Democrat cancels student debt by executive order, and the right screams "tyrant." Each side is happy to defend executive power when their own man holds the pen. Neither side seems to notice that the pen itself is the problem. The deeper issue is not which party abuses executive power, but that the very habit of governing by decree erodes the constitutional judgment that made this republic work for over two centuries.

Here is the uncomfortable truth that cuts across every partisan line: every executive action, no matter how popular or well-intentioned, is an act of central planning. It substitutes the knowledge and judgment of a single person or a handful of unelected aides for the decentralized wisdom of a free people acting through their elected representatives. It replaces the careful, deliberative judgment of a legislature accountable to voters with the snap judgment of a single executive. And it is a step down the road Hayek warned us about, a road we have been marching for decades.

What the Founders Actually Built

James Madison understood something that modern politicians have forgotten: concentrated power is the natural enemy of liberty. That is why he and his colleagues placed all legislative power in Article I of the Constitution, the first article, the longest article, the one that created Congress as the primary lawmaking body. The President was given the power to execute the laws, not to make them. He could veto a bill, recommend measures, and convene Congress in an emergency. He could not rewrite a statute with the stroke of a pen.

The logic was simple. The legislature is closest to the people. Representatives answer to voters every two years. Senators originally answered to state legislatures. Congress was designed to be deliberate, slow, and accountable. It would take time to build a coalition, debate the merits, and pass a law. That friction was a feature, not a bug. It prevented rash action and protected minority rights against transient majorities. The Founders understood that sound judgment in governance requires multiple perspectives, compromise, and time for reflection. They did not trust any one person to make law.

The executive branch, by contrast, was built for speed and decisiveness, but only within the boundaries set by Congress. The President commands the military, conducts foreign policy, and enforces the law. He does not invent new obligations for 330 million Americans on his own authority. The Founders did not create a republican form of government only to hand a single person the power to rule by decree. They knew that the judgment of one person, however wise, could never replace the judgment of many.

The Knowledge Problem: Why the President Cannot See What You See

Here is where Friedrich Hayek's insight becomes essential. In his 1945 essay "The Use of Knowledge in Society," Hayek explained that no central planner, no matter how brilliant, can gather all the dispersed, local, and tacit knowledge that millions of individuals use every day to make decisions. The price system, property rights, and voluntary exchange are not just economic mechanisms. They are information processing systems. They coordinate the actions of people who have never met, who disagree on values, and who pursue their own goals. That is the miracle of a free society. And that miracle depends on the independent judgment of millions of individuals.

An executive action shuts down that process. The President and his advisors decide what is best for everyone. They cannot know the unseen consequences, the small business that could not get a loan because capital was redirected, the university that stopped hiring adjuncts because it expected loan forgiveness, the doctor who retired early rather than comply with a mandate. Henry Hazlitt called this the seen and the unseen. The forgiven debt is visible. The economic activity that never happened is invisible. But it is just as real. The judgment of a single person or a small committee cannot account for all these unseen effects.

Consider DACA. In 2012, President Obama unilaterally granted work permits and deportation relief to hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants who had arrived as children. The policy was popular. Many Americans felt sympathy for the Dreamers. But the Constitution does not give the President the power to suspend immigration law for a category of people he selects. Congress had repeatedly rejected the DREAM Act. So Obama did by executive action what he could not do through legislation. He centralized the judgment in the White House, bypassed the representatives of the people, and created a legal status that Congress had not authorized.

The result was a legal and political mess that has lasted over a decade. Multiple court challenges. Uncertainty for the very people the policy was meant to help. And a dangerous precedent: every future president now knows they can rewrite immigration law with a memo. The judgment of one person, no matter how sympathetic the policy, cannot replace the judgment of Congress and the American people.

A Confession to My Fellow Conservatives

I need to be direct here, because we have been part of the problem. When a Republican president uses executive action to advance a policy we support, too many of us cheer. When a Democrat does the same thing, we denounce it as tyranny. That is not principle. That is partisanship dressed up as conviction. It reflects a failure of judgment, a willingness to abandon constitutional principles when they become inconvenient.

President Trump issued a travel ban on several Muslim majority countries. He redirected military funds to build the border wall. He imposed tariffs on steel and aluminum using national security authority that had rarely been used. Some of these actions I supported on policy grounds. But I cannot defend the method. The Constitution did not give the President the power to ban entire categories of travelers without statutory authorization. It did not give him the power to reappropriate funds to a project Congress had refused to fully fund. Tariffs are taxes, and the power to tax belongs to Congress.

When we defend a Republican's executive action because we like the outcome, we are defending the same principle that lets a Democrat cancel student debt or impose vaccine mandates. The weapon does not have a party affiliation. The executive pen works the same way regardless of who holds it. If we want limited government, we must oppose unlimited executive power even when it works in our favor. That is what intellectual consistency requires. That is what constitutional judgment demands.

The Administrative State: Where the Real Damage Is Done

Executive actions are just the visible tip of a much larger problem. The real concentration of power lies in the administrative state, the vast network of agencies that Congress has delegated quasi legislative authority to. The EPA can write rules that have the force of law. The SEC can create regulations that govern every publicly traded company. The Department of Education can tie federal funding to compliance with its policy preferences. All of this represents a massive transfer of judgment from the people's representatives to unelected bureaucrats.

When a president issues an executive order, he is either directing those agencies to do what they already have statutory authority to do, which is constitutionally unobjectionable, or he is inventing new legal obligations out of thin air, which is not. The problem is that the line between the two has become hopelessly blurry. Congress has written so many vague laws over the past century, improve air quality, ensure fair markets, promote the general welfare, that agencies can justify almost any rule under some existing statute. This is the nondelegation problem.

The Constitution says all legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress. The Supreme Court has allowed Congress to delegate legislative power to agencies for so long that the doctrine is nearly dead. Justice Scalia, in his textualist mode, would have been appalled. He insisted that the text of the law means what it says. When the text gives an agency authority to promote the public interest, it has given away the very power the Constitution reserved for the people's representatives. The judgment of Congress has been outsourced.

The Faithful Execution Clause: The President's Chain, Not His Scepter

Article II, Section 3 of the Constitution says the President shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed. That clause is the President's chain. It binds him to what Congress has written. It does not give him the power to improve the laws, reinterpret them to mean something new, or ignore them when he disagrees. It demands fidelity to the law as written, not the president's own policy judgment.

Justice Scalia, in a 1997 lecture at the University of Cincinnati, put it this way: the President's power is not to execute his own will, but to execute the laws. When a President issues an executive action that creates new legal obligations without new statutory authority, he is not executing the laws. He is making them. That is the job of Congress. And that distinction is the essence of constitutional judgment.

Consider President Biden's vaccine or test mandate for large employers. Congress never passed a law requiring vaccination. The Occupational Safety and Health Administration tried to claim authority under an old statute that allows it to regulate workplace dangers. But a contagious virus is not the same as an unsafe ladder. The Supreme Court struck down the mandate in NFIB v. OSHA in 2022, with the majority noting that the statute authorizes emergency temporary standards only in narrow circumstances. The Court recognized that Congress had not given the executive branch the power to mandate vaccines for 80 million workers.

The same logic applies to student loan forgiveness. The HEROES Act of 2003 allowed the Secretary of Education to waive or modify student loan provisions in relation to a national emergency. The Biden administration claimed this gave it the power to cancel hundreds of billions of dollars in debt. But the Supreme Court, in Biden v. Nebraska in 2023, said no. The statute did not authorize a sweeping program that affected almost every borrower in the country. The Court was applying textualism, looking at what the law actually said, not what the executive wished it said.

The Unseen Cost of Executive Action

Every time a president bypasses Congress, he weakens the legislative branch. He teaches Congress that it does not have to do its job. He teaches the American people that they do not need to elect representatives who will pass laws, because the president will just do it himself. Over time, the habit of executive action erodes the very structure of republican government. It degrades the capacity for collective judgment and makes the nation more dependent on the whims of a single person.

We are already living with the consequences. Congress passes fewer significant bills than it did fifty years ago. The number of executive orders has increased. The administrative state writes more regulations than Congress passes laws. The public has learned to look to the White House for policy changes, not to Capitol Hill. This is the road to serfdom, a slow, gradual accumulation of power in a single person, enabled by a legislature that has abdicated its responsibility. And each step is defended by the claim that the president has the judgment to decide what is best.

But judgment is not a quality that can be monopolized. The Founders understood that the best judgment emerges from the clash of many opinions, from the deliberation of many representatives, from the slow and careful process of legislation. Executive action is the opposite of that process. It is the triumph of speed over wisdom, of will over law, of one person's judgment over the judgment of the nation.

A Better Way

The cure is simple in theory but difficult in practice. Return to the Constitution as written. Congress must reclaim its legislative authority. The courts must enforce the nondelegation doctrine. Presidents must stop pretending they have the power to rewrite laws. And the American people must demand that their representatives actually represent them by passing laws, not by outsourcing lawmaking to the executive.

None of this will happen overnight. But it can start with a single principle, applied consistently regardless of party. If you want to change the law, change the law. Go through Congress. Persuade your fellow citizens. That is how a free people govern themselves. That is how the judgment of the many overrules the judgment of the few. Anything less is rule by decree, and that is not the American way.

The Founders did not fight a revolution to replace a king with an elected one. They built a republic of laws, not of men. Every executive action that exceeds statutory authority is a step away from that republic. We have been marching for too long. It is time to stop and recover the constitutional judgment that once guided this nation. It is time to trust the people and their representatives, not the pen of the president.