As I get older, I understand impatience better than I used to.

Time feels less theoretical. Work we meant to do someday starts asking why it has not arrived. Impatience can clarify. It can push us to repair what can still be repaired, say what needs to be said, and act before the chance disappears.

But impatience can also corrupt judgment. It can turn urgency into recklessness. It can convince us that fast means right.

That matters because Americans have grown dangerously impatient with government. We want problems solved now. We want leaders who promise to cut through the noise, ignore the process, and deliver immediate results. Some frustration is warranted. Government can move too slowly. Bureaucracy can be maddening. In the face of fires, floods, pandemics, wars, economic collapse, and constitutional threats, government must act quickly.

But the American system was not designed primarily for speed. It was designed for friction.

Yes, friction sounds like failure, but in a constitutional democracy, friction can be protective. The founders built separated powers, checks and balances, courts, federalism, staggered elections, and constitutional limits. These were restraints, not efficiency tools.

James Madison put it plainly in Federalist No. 51: “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.” The founders did not trust leaders to remain wise or restrained. They designed a system in which power would be checked by other power. The system was never meant to satisfy impatience. It was meant to survive it.

Donald Trump did not create American impatience, but he has weaponized it. His appeal rests, in part, on the promise that complex problems are simple, experts are unnecessary, delay signals weakness, and only he can deliver immediate results.

He said COVID-19 would “disappear,” even as scientists warned that the virus required testing, mitigation, vaccines, public communication, and time. He repeatedly promised to end Russia’s war against Ukraine quickly, saying he could do so in 24 hours, even before taking office. He claimed drug prices would fall by 1,200, 1,300, 1,400, even 1,500 percent, a mathematical absurdity. He promised prices would come down on “day one.” He said he could make Chicago safe in “one month.”

The pattern matters more than any single claim. Promise the impossible. Set expectations that no serious policy process can meet. When reality intrudes, blame rivals, judges, bureaucrats, governors, Democrats, immigrants, journalists, scientists, or an invented enemy within.

The same impatience appears in governance. The rushed, no-bid contract for the Reflecting Pool episode offers a cautionary example. Trump and his allies initially pointed to vandalism after the newly renovated Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool began peeling and turning green. A man was indicted. Yet prosecutors later sought to dismiss the case after new information indicated the damage stemmed from flawed or rushed contractor work, not vandalism. What evidence was presented before a........

© Common Dreams