Democracy Dies Under His Gaze

The shutdown should end with dialogue. Instead, Trump reaches for destruction. The filibuster is only the latest victim of his obsession with total control.

Guest article by Michael Cohen. Remember to follow him on Substack for more by clicking here. Michael is also racing to 500K followers on YouTube! Subscribe today for free here.

There’s a pattern with Donald Trump; always has been. It’s not about policy, principle, or party. It’s about power. It’s about winning. And when he can’t win by the rules, he destroys the rules.

Now, with the government shutdown entering its 30th day, Trump has found his next wrecking ball: the Senate filibuster. Once the procedural guardrail that forced compromise, it’s now just another obstacle in his way. And like the East Wing, which he demolished on a whim, Trump’s instinct isn’t to fix or reform; it’s to tear it down.

The filibuster dates back to 1850 — older than the Republican Party itself — a Senate tradition meant to ensure minority voices had a say in major legislation. It demands 60 votes for passage, not a simple majority, forcing presidents and parties to find consensus. It’s what kept the country’s most divisive leaders honest — or at least constrained. But Trump’s never been constrained by history, process, or consequence. His entire presidency is an assault on all three.

On Truth Social, Trump posted this week: “It is now time for Republicans to play their TRUMP CARD and go for the Nuclear Option — Get rid of the Filibuster, and get rid of it, NOW.”

To him, this isn’t about reopening the government or rescuing 750,000 federal workers left without paychecks. It’s not about the Americans losing healthcare access because Affordable Care Act tax credits are expiring. It’s not about the 42 million Americans who will lose their SNAP benefits and suffer hunger. It’s about domination — about being the one man who could bend the machinery of government to his will. Trump’s legacy, in his mind, isn’t that he presides over chaos; it’s that he commands it.

He’s cornered himself. The Republican-controlled Congress, split 53–47 in the Senate and 219–213 in the House, can’t reach the 60-vote threshold needed to pass a funding bill. Democrats are withholding support to protect healthcare tax credits for millions. The normal playbook — negotiation, dialogue, compromise — would involve leadership. But Trump doesn’t negotiate with equals. He dictates. And when dictation fails, he detonates.

By calling for the end of the filibuster, Trump is doing what he always does when boxed in: shift the blame, torch the institution, and claim victory in the ashes.

Let’s be clear: even his own party isn’t on board. Senate Majority Leader John Thune, usually cautious in his criticism, said earlier this month the filibuster is “a bulwark against a lot of really bad things happening.” Translation: it’s the last thin barrier between Trump’s impulses and irreversible damage.

But Trump doesn’t see it that way. The shutdown isn’t his fault, he says. The Democrats are “stone cold crazy.” The problem isn’t his inability to lead; it’s the process itself — the same process that has preserved the balance of American governance for over 175 years.

Here’s what’s truly dangerous: ending the filibuster doesn’t just mean Trump gets to pass a stopgap funding bill with 50 votes. It means he rewires the very nature of the Senate. It means every future president inherits a streamlined, unchecked chamber where laws can be rammed through without consensus. It’s the political equivalent of removing the brakes because you don’t like how slowly the car stops.

We’ve seen this movie before. When frustrated, Trump reaches for the “nuclear option” — literally or figuratively — because destruction feels like action. The East Wing’s demolition, the environmental rollbacks, the scrapping of decades of diplomatic protocols — all of it stems from the same philosophy: if it limits me, it doesn’t deserve to exist.

Vice President J.D. Vance has privately urged Trump to stop talking about it. Senate Republicans know they don’t have the votes to end the filibuster, and more importantly, they know what happens if they do. The system, already strained under the weight of Trump’s authoritarian impulses, would fracture entirely.

The Congressional Budget Office now estimates the shutdown could shave up to 2% off GDP this quarter — a self-inflicted wound costing up to $14 billion. But Trump isn’t worried about the economy, or the families lining up at food banks, or the TSA officers working without pay. He’s worried about his legacy. He doesn’t want to be remembered as the man who couldn’t govern — only the man who dared to break the government to prove he could.

Trump once said, “I and I alone can fix it.” But his version of “fixing” looks a lot like annihilation.

The filibuster isn’t perfect; no one would argue that. But it’s one of the last threads tying America to the idea of deliberative democracy — of reasoned debate before power. Trump’s demand to scrap it during a shutdown he caused isn’t leadership; it’s self-preservation. It’s a toddler setting fire to the playroom so no one else can play.

The question isn’t whether he’ll get what he wants. He usually does. The question is what will be left of the country once he’s done taking it.

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