The Obvious Lesson We Keep Refusing to Learn
Sometimes in political analysis, I hesitate before writing something down.
Not because it’s complicated.
But because it feels… obvious.
So obvious that you wonder: Do I really need to explain this?
That doing this leads to that.
That if you hollow out expertise, you get worse decisions.
If you surround yourself with people who agree with you, you make more mistakes.
That if you alienate your allies, you end up alone when it matters.
This isn’t advanced political science.
This isn’t even particularly partisan.
It’s Organizational Leadership 101.
And yet here we are.
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The Situation We’ve Walked Into
Look at where the United States stands with Iran right now.
We are staring at a set of choices where none of the outcomes feel particularly good.
Escalate? Risk a wider regional war, energy shocks, and a long-term commitment with unclear end goals.
De-escalate? Risk emboldening adversaries and looking like we blinked after starting something we couldn’t finish.
There’s no clean win left on the board.
And that’s the part worth pausing on.
Because this didn’t just happen.
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The Illusion of Dissent
Now this wasn’t a situation where there were no voices in the room.
In theory, there was a national security team that could have provided a range of perspectives — from Tulsi Gabbard to Marco Rubio, J.D. Vance, and Michael Waltz (when he was THE National Security Adviser), among others.
On paper, that looks like diversity of viewpoint.
But here’s the difference between theory and practice:
None of those voices appeared willing — or able — to tell the president something he didn’t want to hear.
And that’s the distinction that matters.
Because dissent isn’t about having different résumés in the room.
It’s about whether anyone feels empowered to challenge the decision that’s already been made.
If they don’t?
Then what you have isn’t a debate.
It’s a performance.
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The Echo Chamber Isn’t Strength — It’s Blindness
There’s a reason the best leaders insist on real disagreement.
During the Cuban Missile Crisis, John F. Kennedy structured his decision-making process to encourage dissent — even at times removing himself from the room so advisors would speak more freely.
He understood something simple:
If everyone agrees with you, you’re not getting better decisions.
You’re getting safer conversations.
And safer conversations often lead to riskier outcomes.
We’ve seen this before. In the lead-up to the Iraq War, the issue wasn’t just flawed intelligence — it was a system that made it harder for dissenting analysis to gain traction.
Contradictory views didn’t disappear overnight.
They just stopped being heard.
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When You Think You Don’t Need Allies
At the same time, we’ve spent the better part of the last year testing — and straining — relationships with our closest allies.
Tariffs.
Public pressure.
A posture that treated alliances as transactions rather than investments.
And then, at precisely the moment when we may need those alliances most, we find ourselves asking:
Where is everyone?
There’s a deeper irony here.
Even the most transactional leader understands the value of relationships when a major decision is coming.
If you knew you might be heading into a conflict that could disrupt global energy supply…
Would you spend the prior year browbeating your partners?
Would you lecture your closest allies — as the vice president did publicly — about their internal values?
Would you create an environment where supporting the United States became politically difficult for leaders in Europe and Asia?
It’s hard to imagine that you would.
Which leads to an uncomfortable conclusion:
This wasn’t done because it made strategic sense.
It was done because it could be done.
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Alliances Don’t Break — They Hollow Out
Alliances don’t collapse overnight.
They erode.
After the Sept. 11 attacks, NATO invoked Article 5 for the first time in its history. That wasn’t transactional. That was trust.
That kind of trust takes decades to build.
And far less time to weaken.
What replaces it isn’t open opposition.
It’s something more subtle — and more dangerous.
Performative support.
Carefully worded statements.
Minimal risk-taking.
Countries don’t walk away.
They hedge.
And when the moment comes that you need real commitment — ships in the water, political capital spent, shared risk — hesitation replaces action.
That’s when you realize:
You don’t have the alliance you thought you had.
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The Feedback Loop That Creates Bad Decisions
Here’s where it all connects.
When you narrow the circle of advice…
When you prioritize loyalty over challenge…
When you weaken the external relationships that provide leverage…
You don’t just change the environment around a decision.
You change the decision itself.
The information becomes more agreeable.
The risks appear more manageable.
The timeline feels more optimistic.
Until reality intervenes.
That’s how leaders convince themselves that something will be quick, contained, and decisive.
And that’s how they end up somewhere very different.
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The Lesson Is Obvious. The Question Is Whether We’ll Learn It.
Which brings us back to the uncomfortable part.
The lesson here isn’t hard to identify.
It’s the one that an Obama aide once summarized in blunt terms:
Don’t do dumb things.
But embedded in that phrase is something more important.
Leadership isn’t just about the decisions you make.
It’s about how you structure the process that produces those decisions.
Do you invite dissent — or suppress it?
Do you value expertise — or replace it?
Do you invest in alliances — or test their limits?
Because those choices don’t show their consequences immediately.
They show up later.
In moments like this.
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The Real Risk Going Forward
There are two ways this can go.
We can look at this moment and ask:
Why are we in a position where every option feels bad?
Why are we more isolated than we should be?
Why does it feel like we’re managing this alone?
And we can draw the obvious conclusion.
Or we can draw the opposite one.
That we should trust fewer people.
Rely on fewer allies.
Go it alone.
One path rebuilds capacity.
The other deepens the very conditions that created the problem.
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The Bottom Line
The tragedy isn’t just that we’re in a difficult situation with Iran.
It’s that we spent the last thirteen months systematically dismantling the very tools we would need to navigate it.
We weakened alliances.
We sidelined expertise.
We narrowed the circle of advice.
And now, at the moment those things matter most, we’re discovering what their absence feels like.
The irony of “America First” is that it only works when America isn’t alone.
And right now —
we are a lot more alone than we used to be.
A New Project — Dynastic
A quick note on something new I’m excited to share.
Many of you know how much I love sports — and how often I’ve used sports as a lens to understand American culture and, yes, even politics.
So I’m launching a new podcast project called Dynastic.
My partner is JA Adande — a longtime reporter you’ve seen at the Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, and over the last decade at ESPN, including Around the Horn. I’ve admired J.A.’s work for years, and after getting to know him recently, it became clear we could build something unique together.
The idea behind Dynastic is simple:
What makes a team — or a program — go from successful… to iconic?
It’s inspired by what Acquired has done for business — long-form storytelling about how great institutions are built. We’re applying that same approach to sports franchises and programs.
The people.
The decisions.
The turning points.
The forks in the road.
Our first episode focuses on the Los Angeles Dodgers — a franchise that spent decades chasing the Yankees, but along the way became one of the most innovative organizations in sports history.
And their story doesn’t start recently.
It starts in 1883 — the same year the Brooklyn Bridge opened.
Every month, we’ll take a deep dive into one iconic franchise — from the teams you love, to the teams you love to hate, to the ones you’re just curious about.
This month: the Dodgers.
Next month: the Steelers.
You can subscribe now wherever you get your podcasts.
I’m Chuck Todd. He’s J.A. Adande.
And this is Dynastic.
Listen to the first episode here:






Chuck — this is a clear diagnosis, but many of us (most of us, I hope) have understood the “obvious lesson” for quite some time. What’s missing is the prescription. Like you, Doris Kearns Goodwin, in Team of Rivals, showed how leadership that challenges themselves can rise to existential moments and deliver sound plans — yet she has recently emphasized that in today’s America, it is “We the People” who must act, because our current slate of leaders cannot or will not do what is necessary. I’m paraphrasing, but she basically said ‘don’t look or wait for a single leader.’
That raises this central dilemma: what happens when a large share of “We the People” is immersed in an information echo chamber that reinforces — rather than challenges — anti-democratic behavior? Many Republican members of Congress appear politically insulated because their constituents are fed a steady stream of misleading, sympathetic and validating narratives.
Identifying the problem is half the way to a solution, but what, concretely, should the majority of democracy-supporting citizens be doing right now — politically, legally, civically, economically, and informationally — to slow or stop democratic erosion? Elections are necessary but feel too slow for an accelerating crisis. If the solution is “We the People,” how does that work when the public itself is divided by mutually exclusive realities? What does a rapid, lawful path out of this look like? Millions will be marching on March 28, in cities across the country. But, will it take a massive march on Washington do affect change?
I think there is also a challenge here for us voters. I understand wanting to elect someone who sounds like he will "get things done" after a period when our national government seemed incapable of compromise on major issues. But what is the cost of focusing our votes on that? I've felt that pull myself in the past and can empathize with people who voted for the current administration on that basis. But I think this Iran war is an example of how badly the "get things done" policy when, as you say, is accompanied by burning bridges with allies, can go very wrong.