The Constitutional Cha-Cha: A Hypocritical Hoedown

 

Oh, the sanctimonious splendor of it all! Donald Trump, that perennial provocateur, recently sent the chattering classes into a tizzy by suggesting there might be “ways around” the 22nd Amendment’s two-term limit. In a March 30, 2025, interview with NBC News, he declared, “I was not joking,” about a third term, adding coyly, “There are methods which you could do it.” The outrage was swift and predictable: “A dictator in the making!” they shrieked, as if Trump had just torched the Constitution on live TV. And yet, in a twist dripping with irony, some of these same defenders of democracy have been quietly two-stepping around that very document for years, cooking up “voting compacts” to sideline the Electoral College. Apparently, constitutional fidelity is a one-way street—sacred when it suits, disposable when it doesn’t. Who knew the rulebook could be so… flexible?

Let’s start with Trump’s latest grenade. The 22nd Amendment, ratified in 1951, is crystal clear: “No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice.” To dodge that, Trump would need a Constitutional amendment—two-thirds of Congress and three-fourths of the states—or some fantastical loophole no one’s found in 74 years. His “methods” comment, delivered with his usual blend of bravado and vagueness, sparked a firestorm. Critics clutched their pearls, with Rep. Dan Goldman (D-N.Y.) intoning on July 27, 2024, via The Washington Post, “The only way ‘you won’t have to vote anymore’ is if Donald Trump becomes a dictator.” Hyperbole aside, the process is daunting, and Trump’s musing is likely just that—musing. But the hypocrisy meter spikes when we pivot to the Electoral College, where some states and leaders have been plotting a bypass with the glee of kids sneaking candy past bedtime.

Enter the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact (NPVIC), a scheme so clever it’s almost admirable—if it weren’t so shamelessly evasive. The idea? States agree to award their electoral votes to the national popular vote winner, regardless of their own voters’ preferences. No amendment required—just a handshake among states to nullify the Electoral College’s effect. As of now, 17 states and D.C., totaling 209 electoral votes, have signed on, per the National Popular Vote website (updated November 2, 2020, with Maine joining in April 2024). They’re 61 votes shy of the 270 needed to activate this end-run. Proponents claim it’s constitutional under Article II, Section 1, Clause 2: “Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors.” Fair enough—states can allocate electors as they please. But let’s not kid ourselves: this is a dodge, a way to rewrite the game without touching the rulebook.

The architects of this compact aren’t shy about their aims. John Koza, a key NPVIC advocate, wrote in Every Vote Equal (2013), “The National Popular Vote bill will guarantee the Presidency to the candidate who receives the most popular votes in all 50 states and the District of Columbia.” Sounds noble—until you realize it’s a deliberate sidestep of the amendment process, which George C. Edwards III, in Why the Electoral College is Bad for America (2004), called out: “The Electoral College distorts the presidential campaign so that candidates ignore most small states – and many large ones.” Fair critique, but the solution isn’t a backroom pact—it’s a Constitutional debate. Meanwhile, states like Colorado, whose voters approved joining the compact in 2019, are all in. Sen. Michael Bennet (D-Colo.) cheered in a March 20, 2019, press release, “The Electoral College is an outdated system that too often ignores the will of the American people.” Noble words, but isn’t that the same Constitution you’re sworn to uphold?

Now, the sarcasm practically writes itself. Trump hints at “methods” to skirt term limits—cue the fainting couches. But when states concoct voting compacts to neuter the Electoral College, it’s hailed as a democratic triumph. Both maneuvers flirt with constitutional boundaries, yet one’s a scandal and the other’s a seminar topic. G.K. Chesterton nailed it in Orthodoxy (1908): “The modern world is full of the old Christian virtues gone mad.” Here’s virtue—respect for the law—gone gleefully off the rails. Abraham Lincoln, ever the voice of reason, warned in his 1861 First Inaugural Address, “If the policy of the government upon vital questions affecting the whole people is to be irrevocably fixed by decisions of the Supreme Court… the people will have ceased to be their own rulers.” Swap “Supreme Court” for “state compacts” or “Trump’s whims,” and the point stands: bypassing the people’s consent is a slippery slope.

History smirks at us here. In 1876, Rutherford B. Hayes lost the popular vote to Samuel Tilden but won the presidency after a shady deal flipped 20 disputed electoral votes. The system’s flaws aren’t new—nor is the urge to “fix” it by hook or crook. Today’s compact-pushers argue it’s all legal, citing the Constitution’s flexibility. Maybe so, but as C.S. Lewis cautioned in The Abolition of Man (1943), “We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise.” Dodging the amendment process—whether for term limits or electors—smacks of that chestless expediency. Trump’s “there are ways around” quip, per NBC News, March 30, 2025, is vague enough to be noise, but the NPVIC is a concrete plan in motion. Yet the outrage flows one way. Funny, that.

So, let’s drop the charade. If amending the Constitution is too sacred to touch for Trump’s third-term fantasy, why’s it fine to skirt it for a popular-vote workaround? Both require the same process—two-thirds of Congress, three-fourths of states—or they’re just power plays in drag. Call it what it is: a hypocritical hoedown, where the music changes depending on who’s dancing. The Constitution isn’t a buffet—pick what you like, skip the rest. If we’re serious about reform, let’s do it right, not with compacts or cryptic “methods.” Otherwise, we’re just Romans in better suits, fiddling while the Republic burns.

by Alfonso Beccar Varela, with help from Grok. Illustrated by Grok.