The National Review Dances in Dissonance

How “Principled Conservatism” Became an Excuse for Subverting the Constitution

There's a particular kind of cognitive dissonance that emerges when institutions dedicated to “principled conservatism” confront the reality of authoritarianism in their midst. We're witnessing this uncomfortable dance in real-time as the National Review's editors attempt to navigate Trump's open defiance of judicial authority.

In their editorial today addressing the administration's refusal to comply with Judge James Boasberg's order halting deportations, the magazine performs a remarkable ballet of false equivalence. They begin by framing the situation as a mutual failure—judges who “bend the law beyond its recognizable contours” on one side, and a president who responds by “playing fast and loose with facts and the law” on the other. This both-sides framing attempts to place constitutional interpretation (the core function of the judiciary) on the same moral plane as defying court orders (a direct assault on constitutional governance).

What makes this dance particularly troubling is how it provides intellectual cover for the dismantling of judicial review while pretending to defend it. The editors acknowledge that the administration “disingenuously” argued against following the court's order and “has been less than candid with the court.” They note that the Justice Department is “refusing entirely to cooperate further with Judge Boasberg.” Yet somehow, in their analysis, Chief Justice John Roberts becomes the problem for stating the obvious—that “impeachment is not an appropriate response to disagreement concerning a judicial decision.”

This is not constitutional analysis. It's constitutional surrender dressed in the language of principle.

The most revealing aspect of the National Review's editorial isn't just what they say—it's what they choose to normalize. Chief Justice Roberts made a straightforward statement defending the most basic principle of constitutional governance: that disagreements with judicial decisions should be resolved through the appellate process, not by threatening to impeach judges. This intervention wasn't just appropriate—it was necessary in the face of an administration openly threatening the independence of the judiciary.

Yet somehow, in the National Review's moral universe, Roberts deserves a scolding for “lacking the courage to nip judicial adventurism in the bud.” The sheer audacity of these self-appointed constitutional guardians—lecturing the Chief Justice of the United States about judicial restraint while providing rhetorical cover for an administration defying court orders—reveals the profound ethical bankruptcy at the heart of their enterprise.

Who exactly are these editors to lecture John Roberts about defending the Constitution? Where was their righteous indignation when Trump declared he would have the “absolute right” to pardon himself? Where were their stern editorials when he suggested postponing the 2020 election? Where was their principled conservatism when he pressured state officials to “find” votes? The answer is clear: they were busy constructing elaborate justifications, finding ways to normalize the indefensible, and creating moral equivalencies that allowed their readers to pretend constitutional erosion was just another policy disagreement.

Their editorial doesn't just misrepresent the current constitutional crisis—it actively contributes to it by providing a roadmap for executive defiance. In a breathtaking section, they outline scenarios where “the executive may have a persuasive case for defying a judicial order.” This isn't constitutional analysis; it's a how-to guide for dismantling judicial review. They're not defending conservative principles; they're abandoning them while pretending otherwise.

The intellectual dishonesty becomes even more apparent when they suggest that Roberts “can best defend his branch's legitimate powers by tending to his own house.” Translation: The Chief Justice should remain silent while the executive branch threatens to impeach judges for ruling against it. This isn't a defense of separated powers—it's surrender disguised as wisdom.

What we're witnessing in the National Review's editorial isn't just intellectual inconsistency—it's the terminal stage of conservative intellectual decay. The magazine that once stood against the tide of populist authoritarianism now finds itself performing increasingly elaborate rhetorical contortions to accommodate it. Their “principled conservatism” has devolved into a performative exercise where they pantomime concern for constitutional norms while providing cover for their systematic dismantling.

This is the essence of the “anti-anti-Trump” conservative stance: a moral posture that allows them to cast themselves as the adults in the room while effectively enabling the very authoritarianism they claim to oppose. They deplore Trump's “intemperance” and “blowhardism” while tacitly accepting his attacks on democratic institutions. They wring their hands about judicial overreach while normalizing executive lawlessness. They position themselves as guardians of conservative principle while abandoning every principle that might require actual courage to defend.

Two plus two equals four. There are twenty-four hours in a day. And a president defying court orders while threatening to impeach judges who rule against him represents a constitutional crisis, not an occasion for both-sides equivocation. These are basic realities that no amount of sophisticated conservative prose can obscure.

The National Review's editors may believe they're threading a difficult needle between conservative support for Trump and conservative commitment to constitutional governance. But what they're actually demonstrating is that when forced to choose between defending constitutional principles and maintaining influence within a movement increasingly comfortable with authoritarianism, they've chosen the latter—while desperately trying to convince themselves and their readers that no such choice was necessary.

This isn't principled conservatism. It's intellectual cowardice dressed up as nuance. And history will remember not just those who actively tore down democratic norms, but also those who, with eloquent equivocation and false equivalence, provided the intellectual cover that made it possible.

As Christopher Hitchens might have observed: The difference between these conservative intellectuals and actual defenders of constitutional principle isn't that they've reached different conclusions—it's that they've stopped asking the questions that would lead to uncomfortable answers.