For years, a quiet suspicion has been settling into the American psyche: something in Washington is not functioning the way it was meant to.
Congress appears locked in constant combat, and factions divide into smaller factions. Leadership struggles sit on top of ideological divides; budgets arrive just before deadlines or are bundled into massive continuing resolutions. Hearings multiply, speeches lengthen, and meaningful outcomes often feel scarce.
At the same time, the presidency has often appeared constrained. It carries symbolic weight, but many voters have come to see it as boxed-in by legislative stalemate and bureaucratic drag. Whether that perception is fully accurate matters less than the fact that it exists.
Hovering over both branches is the judiciary, once widely viewed as a neutral referee. Today, many Americans see it as something more active, sometimes even decisive, in shaping national direction.
Perception is not the whole story, but it shapes legitimacy, and legitimacy is the currency of constitutional government.
Gridlock and the Demand for Movement
When immigration remains unresolved for decades, when trade policy swings sharply from one administration to the next, and when inflation and wages dominate everyday conversation, most citizens are not studying statutory language. They arrive at a simpler conclusion: the system feels stuck.
Over time, frustration turns into a demand not necessarily for consensus, but for motion.
When voters returned Donald Trump to office, many were not endorsing careful legislative choreography. They were endorsing disruption. Tariffs, agency restructuring, and assertive enforcement were visible signs of executive initiative, and these signaled action in an environment that felt frozen.
The tension between the administration and the Supreme Court of the United States over tariff authority reflects more than a disagreement about trade. It raises a structural question about how far a President may move economic policy under existing statutes when Congress has failed to produce clear direction.
A similar dynamic has unfolded at the state level. When Governor Bill Lee deployed the Tennessee National Guard in Memphis to assist with crime reduction, the debate quickly moved beyond public safety. It became a test of executive discretion against legislative boundaries. Supporters described it as necessary action; critics saw overreach.
Different facts, same tension.
The Judiciary’s Expanding Role
Complicating the picture is the evolving role of the courts.
For decades, Congress has written broad statutes and left significant interpretation to agencies and judges. When disputes arise, courts are asked to clarify what lawmakers meant. In doing so, they sometimes issue decisions that shape national outcomes in ways that feel legislative in effect.
At various moments in history, both conservatives and liberals have accused courts of going too far. The charge of legislating from the bench has not belonged to one side alone.
As a result, many Americans no longer view the judiciary as a detached umpire. When Congress hesitates and the executive advances, judicial rulings can become the final word; in that position, courts inevitably attract political fire.
What emerges is not a simple tug-of-war between two branches. It is a three-way collision in which each branch tests the limits of the others.
Legitimacy Under Pressure
Beneath the legal arguments lies a deeper issue: a significant portion of the electorate believes Congress has accumulated authority while losing credibility. Endless internal disputes, public brinkmanship, and leadership struggles have convinced many citizens that lawmakers are more focused on positioning than governing.
From that vantage point, executive reassertion feels less like ambition and more like correction.
Critics counter that expanding executive authority in response to frustration risks concentrating power beyond constitutional intent. They argue that dysfunction in one branch does not justify stretching another.
At the same time, skepticism toward the judiciary grows whenever court decisions reshape policy in visible ways. To some, that is necessary oversight; to others, it is substitution.
All three branches now operate under heightened scrutiny.
And Maybe That Is the Point
The American constitutional system was never designed to be smooth. It was designed so that ambition would counter ambition and authority would check authority. Friction was built into the structure from the beginning.
For a time, many citizens felt that friction had dulled into drift: Congress delegated broadly. Executives maneuvered within expansive interpretations. Courts filled gaps left by legislative ambiguity. Power shifted quietly rather than colliding openly.
Now the collisions are visible.
Congress pushes back. The executive presses forward. The judiciary defines its limits. It is loud, and it is uncomfortable. It can even feel unstable.
Visible tension may be closer to the original design, though, than silent accumulation. The separation of powers was not meant to eliminate conflict. It was meant to force it into the open, where each branch resists the others and boundaries are tested in public view.
That does not guarantee wisdom or efficiency. It does not promise calm. It does suggest that the machinery is not idle now, though.
For a public weary of stagnation, even open struggle can look like life.
Perhaps the collision is not a breakdown; maybe it is the mechanism just working as intended.