What the Passage of the Big Beautiful Bill Revealed About Power

There was something fascinating about watching elected officials vote against their own constituents’ interests a couple days ago. At least, that was my first reaction when I learned that Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill” was passed by both the Senate and House despite several Republican hold-outs recognizing the immense potential harms. I was particularly intrigued by how power operates when it encounters tension between ideologies and redefined loyalty.

Robert Caro, in his monumental study of Lyndon Johnson, wrote, “Power doesn’t always corrupt. Power always reveals.” The bill’s passage has revealed something uncomfortable about the nature of political loyalty. Representatives who had championed their states’ Medicaid expansion programs found themselves voting to gut the very systems that kept their hospitals open and their constituents alive. The cognitive dissonance was tangible, yet the votes were cast regardless.

This begs the question: “To whom are they truly loyal?” Their constituents, whom they pledged to protect and accurately represent, or their big boss, who claims the ability to eliminate any opponent? Given the final outcome, I think we know the answer. That is the influential combination of power and redefined loyalty.

What else holds vast power besides the person at the head of our country? Collective belief.

Particularly interesting is the burgeoning reaction from Trump voters in Southern and Western states who are beginning to realize that they will bear the brunt of these policies. Hospital closures in rural areas, loss of healthcare coverage for millions, and the elimination of crucial programs are becoming immediate material realities. Yet, the initial response has been less outrage than confusion. Perhaps, this is not so surprising. Sometimes, collective belief can sever the connection between political identity and policy consequences. My theory is that it creates almost a psychological buffer that allows people to maintain their loyalties even as those very allegiances work against their interests. (I can think of a few other examples of this cognitive dissonance that arises from human nature).

What emerges from this whole analysis is an extravagant power play where the normal feedback mechanisms between policy and politics have been disrupted by the power of fear and collective belief. The Republican holdouts who eventually capitulated understood this dynamic perfectly; their political survival depended not on serving their constituents’ interests, but on maintaining their positions within a power structure. Furthermore, the constituents who will face the consequences of these policies remind us that democracy’s greatest weakness may not be the corruption of its leaders, but the capacity of ordinary people to believe so deeply in something that they willingly sacrifice their own wellbeing to sustain that belief.