Majority Rule and The Loyal Opposition

The concept of the “loyal opposition” arose from British parliamentary debates in the nineteenth century—that eventually institutionalized opposition through a minority party shadow cabinet—and does not have a concrete definition or legal meaning in the U.S. constitutional system.

The point of establishing and empowering a formal opposition is to allow for official policy scrutiny and dissent from the ruling majority within the structure and values of the democratic system. Thus, a minority party and its leaders can oppose the policies of the majority government—and seek to replace it in future elections—while remaining “loyal” to the nation and its basic laws or written constitution. In democracies, the peaceful transfer of power and continuity of governance requires citizens and elected leaders to accept that one party does not rule the country indefinitely. Political opponents get a chance to offer alternatives to the sitting government in a fair manner and, if elected, these parties may pursue new policy goals in their own government.

Since the American system doesn’t allow for a formal opposition like the UK—political parties and leaders are not even mentioned in the U.S. Constitution—we establish responsible majority rule and respect the loyal opposition through a mix of First Amendment free speech rights and technical congressional rules that evolved over time to allow for minority dissent through committee hearings, floor debates, legislative amendment processes, the Senate filibuster, and other measures. Given our system’s elaborate separation of powers and checks and balances, the American government also requires effective norms between the political parties to work well.

In the current political climate, these norms that help to maintain good relations and effective governance across party lines are at risk of evaporating entirely.

If the president of one party wants to get anything done in an era of divided government, he has no choice but to talk with the opposing party to pass legislation and get key positions filled. Likewise, if one party enjoys control of the House and the other one controls the Senate, the two opposing parties will be forced to work in concert at some point to pass laws to keep the government running and to advance national priorities. Even if a party controls both branches of Congress and the presidency, as is the case now under Trump and in 2021 under Biden, they still will need some consultation with the minority party—and perhaps actual votes if margins are tight—to pass important legislation or overcome Senate filibuster rules to end debate on bills.

Although not required, the majority party ideally will solicit input and incorporate some of the policy ideas of their opponents—and the minority party will participate in good faith in the process—as a means for maintaining comity between the parties and a general commitment to the national interest. This informal cooperation by the majority party and the loyal opposition has produced much of the bipartisan legislation and other acts of Congress that Americans routinely say they like and want more of going forward.

Unfortunately, these informal norms have degraded substantially in recent decades—from both Republicans and Democrats in both majority and minority positions. This erosion is particularly acute during periods of unified executive and legislative control of government—so-called “trifectas”—when majorities feel unconstrained by the need to consult with the other party and minorities increasingly go into lockstep opposition to everything put forward by the majority party. This leads to gargantuan bills loosely structured to meet unenforced “reconciliation” rules for tax, spending, and debt limit legislation that skirts the Senate filibuster and allows American political parties to essentially govern like they are in a parliamentary system—except there are no formal and informal mechanisms to acknowledge the opposition at all or actively encourage efforts to get wider approval for its actions. Biden had two of these monster bills in his first two years—the American Rescue Plan and the Inflation Reduction Act—and Trump and the GOP are currently planning their own versions for the president’s agenda on taxes, spending, and other priorities.

Trifecta government increasingly leads to a toxic zero-sum mentality where both parties and their media cheerleaders tell voters that their party—and their party alone—is the only legitimate governing force in America. Consultation between the parties becomes virtually nonexistent, and public fighting between the forces reaches extreme levels.

“We are the only true patriotic party. Support us or we will treat you like an enemy that must be defeated.”

This position is basically nuts, and probably why Americans prefer divided government. George W. Bush was the last president to enjoy a mere four years of unified control of the executive and legislative branches following 9-11 (from 2003-2007). Every president since Bush has only had a governing trifecta for two years before losing unified power. Why? As The New York Times proffers:

One explanation is that holding unified power in Washington tends to spur a drive by the party in control to push the policy envelope as far as possible and make it difficult, if not impossible, for those in the other party to back the resulting legislation.

That was the case in the fight over the Affordable Care Act in 2009 and 2010, when Republicans capitalized on public unease over the legislation to attack Democrats, even though the policy approach had been built on ideas that originated with the G.O.P. They were able to make the case that Democrats were steamrolling them and imposing a new health care regime on the public along party lines.

Then, when Republicans assembled their own trifecta during the first two years of the Trump administration, they invested much of their time and energy in trying to undo the health care law. They ultimately failed, wasting much of their precious time in full control of the government and drawing a rebuke in 2018 from voters who now liked the health care law.

If the majority party can’t be trusted to achieve good outcomes during periods of one-party control—and the opposition manages to offer coherent objections—then American voters like to throw sand in the gears of government in order to check majority rule and force the two parties to work together.

In response to the chaotic early days of the second Trump administration, it doesn’t seem congressional Republicans are yet up to the challenge of being a responsible majority with proper checks on the executive and consultation with the opposition or that Democrats are capable of being an effective loyal opposition that offers a constructive alternative or bipartisan support on areas of common agreement. If nothing changes in the coming months, Americans will have to sort out the two-party mess and vote their preference in 2026—continued unified control or divided government again.

Either way, the American political system desperately needs a more effective method for balancing the legitimate powers of an elected majority with the legitimate concerns of the loyal opposition. Given recent election results, Americans remain sharply divided in their political allegiances yet our party leaders govern as if they can and should rule entirely on their own—fueling bad policy outcomes and even more division, distrust, and mutual contempt among citizens and their elected officials alike.