Zero Evidence Against Powell, When Asylum Isn't Asylum, & The Mayor Who Won't Bend
March 17, 2026
What I’m Discussing Today:
Kareem’s Daily Quote: A reminder from James Madison
What Happens When Justice Starts Taking Requests: Not enough for a case
Freedom Offered, Pressure Applied: Shaky future for the Iranian women’s soccer team
Video Break: 83 points
From the Atlantic: He’s likeable and personable, but “mayor” and “activist” are two different jobs
What I’m Watching: Bad Man
Jukebox Playlist: The Sounds Of Silence
Kareem’s Daily Quote
“…all men having power ought to be distrusted, to a certain degree.” — James Madison
Yes, James Madison actually said that as written. (The quote was revised in the 20th Century to make it more definitive.) But even with that historical qualifier, it sounds cynical at first, like something you’d hear from a guy who’s been burned one too many times. Then you live life, and you watch folks shift the instant they’re handed an award, a title or a mic. And you realize that Madison, far from being cynical, was simply telling it like it is.
I learned this in small ways long before I ever understood it in big ones. In my early twenties I remember sitting in a cramped community meeting where the most powerful person in the room was a man whose job title I can’t remember. All I know is, he wasn’t a senator or a mayor: he was the kind of official whose authority only exists inside a particular building. The moment he steps outside, it’s gone…no one even knows who he is. But inside? You could feel it. People adjusted themselves around him. They softened their tone. They waited for his reaction before offering their own. It was like watching powerful magnets work on human behavior, bending it this way and that. Because power doesn’t have to be enormous to be distorting. It just has to be present.
And once you notice that, you start seeing it everywhere. How people talk differently when the boss walks in. How someone’s moral clarity becomes a little foggier once they’re the one holding the pen. How quickly “I would never” becomes “Well, this situation is complicated,” once the consequences land on their desk instead of someone else’s.
I’ve watched people I admire get promoted and suddenly become unrecognizable, not because they’re bad people, but because power quietly rearranges your priorities. It whispers to you. It tells you that your instincts are correct, that your judgment is superior, that your exceptions are justified. And if you’re not careful, you start believing it.
Madison wasn’t warning us about villains. Villains are easy to spot. He was warning us about us, the well‑intentioned, the principled, the ones who swear they’d never abuse power because they’re “one of the good ones.” I’ve learned that the people most confident in their own goodness are often the ones who need the most guardrails.
I’ve also learned that mistrust can be healthy. The kind of mistrust that keeps institutions honest, that keeps leaders grounded, that keeps us awake. It’s the kind of mistrust that says, “I believe you mean well, but I’m not taking only your word for it.” It’s the kind that understands that power—any power—needs friction, because otherwise it goes to people’s heads, and those heads are invariably too small to contain it.
I’ve been in enough rooms now to know that the people who handle power best are the ones who are a little afraid of it. The ones who understand that authority is borrowed, not owned. The ones who don’t treat their position like a mirror that reflects their greatness back at them, but like a weight they’re responsible for carrying.
Oh, and I also learned that people who insist they can be trusted without question are the ones you should question first.
Madison wasn’t telling us to be bitter. He was telling us to be realistic. He was telling us that power is a force of nature, and human beings, even the good ones, are not built to handle it without accountability.
And maybe the real lesson, the one I wish someone had told me earlier, is that mistrusting power isn’t about doubting people but about protecting them from the parts of themselves they can’t always see.
None of us are immune to the gravitational pull of power. The best we can do is stay awake and watch if and when the room starts to bend.
