The Valley Viewpoint

An endorsement should mean something. It should tell voters what we value and what we expect from the people asking for their trust.

For The Valley Viewpoint, the standard is straightforward: responsible spending, lower pressure on taxpayers, public safety, respect for constitutional rights, honest government and practical results. We want elected officials who understand that government works for the public—not for the politicians who happen to hold office.

That is why, in the Nov. 3 general election, we endorse the following candidates in the federal and state races serving the Hudson Valley, and in the Dutchess and Putnam County contests listed below.

Federal

For Congress, we endorse:

• NY-17: Mike Lawler
• NY-18: Jackie Mary Auringer
• NY-19: Peter K. Oberacker

These districts connect communities across the Hudson Valley, but voters share familiar concerns: the cost of living, public safety, federal spending and whether elected officials are listening to the people they represent. We believe these candidates offer the strongest case for a change in direction and a check on one-party thinking. (elections.ny.gov) (elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov)

Statewide

For governor and lieutenant governor, we endorse Bruce Blakeman and Todd Hood.

For state comptroller, we endorse Joseph Hernandez. For attorney general, we endorse Saritha Komatireddy.

New York needs leadership willing to confront the cost of government and explain where public money is going. The state’s persistent affordability problems deserve more than speeches and election-year promises. Voters should demand a serious effort to restrain spending, protect public safety and make state government answerable to the people paying the bills. (elections.ny.gov)

State Senate

We endorse the following candidates in Hudson Valley Senate districts:

• District 34: Adrian Romero
• District 35: Anthony J. Merante
• District 36: Grace Marrero
• District 37: Thomas H. Fix Jr.
• District 38: Bill Weber
• District 39: Robert G. Rolison
• District 40: Sergio J. Esposito
• District 41: Patrick Sheehan
• District 42: Jennifer R. Figueroa
• District 51: Christopher W. Tague

Albany needs more debate, more scrutiny and less automatic deference to the leadership of whichever party is in charge. These are the candidates we believe are best positioned to press for affordability, public safety and accountable government in the communities they would represent. (elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov)

State Assembly

We endorse these candidates in Hudson Valley Assembly districts:

• District 90: John Isaac
• District 92: Bob Welch
• District 93: Braille Diaz
• District 94: Matthew J. Slater
• District 95: Laurie Ryan
• District 96: Brett L. Yagel
• District 97: Rob Bonomolo
• District 98: Karl A. Brabenec
• District 99: Richard A. Vargus
• District 101: Brian M. Maher
• District 102: Marcus Molinaro
• District 103: Santos Lopez
• District 105: Anil R. Beephan Jr.
• District 106: Gregory Campus

The Assembly should be a place where lawmakers test proposals against their cost and consequences—not a rubber stamp for Albany’s political class. We endorse these candidates because the Hudson Valley needs representatives prepared to challenge policies that make it harder for families, workers and small businesses to get ahead. (elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov, elections.ny.gov)

Dutchess County

For Dutchess County sheriff, we endorse Kirk Imperati.

For Dutchess County Legislature, we endorse:

• District 1: Robert V. Gorman
• District 2: Anne Burger
• District 3: Michael Polasek
• District 5: Tony D’Aquanni
• District 7: Lew Darrow
• District 9: Aaron P. Scott
• District 10: Shanta A. Persad Saeteros
• District 12: John Metzger
• District 13: Kevin M. Giles
• District 14: Lynne Miele-Versaci
• District 15: Robert S. Faust
• District 17: Doug A.A. McHoul
• District 21: Stephen M. Caswell
• District 22: Joseph Tresca
• District 23: Chris Rolison
• District 24: Andrew J. House
• District 25: Stefanie W. Hubert

County government is where decisions about spending, services and oversight have a direct effect on daily life. We want legislators who will take those responsibilities seriously, ask hard questions and keep the focus on residents rather than political theater. (elections.dutchessny.gov)

Putnam County

For county executive, we endorse Kevin Byrne.

We also endorse Michael C. Bartolotti for county clerk; Michael J. Nesheiwat and John F. Bourges for the two county coroner positions; and these candidates for Putnam County Legislature:

• District 2: Christian J. Russo
• District 3: Joseph Cunningham
• District 8: Tanner McCracken

Putnam deserves steady leadership, careful stewardship of taxpayer dollars and decisions made with the county’s long-term interests in mind. These endorsements reflect our belief that local government should be transparent, responsible and focused on the people who live here. (boe.putnamcountyny.gov)

No candidate should mistake an endorsement for a blank check. Voters should expect answers, demand transparency and hold elected officials accountable after Election Day. The Valley Viewpoint’s endorsements are a starting point for that conversation—not a substitute for it.

New York’s general election is Tuesday, Nov. 3. Early voting runs Oct. 24 through Nov. 1. Check your county Board of Elections for your ballot and polling location. (boe.putnamcountyny.gov, hudsonvalley.news12.com)

New York City politicians have found a familiar way to announce that they are helping working people: pass a bill that could put those people out of work.

Mayor Zohran Mamdani supports the proposed Delivery Protection Act, which would require Amazon and other companies to directly employ thousands of delivery workers now hired through independent delivery businesses. Supporters say the change would improve pay, safety, and accountability. Those are legitimate concerns. Delivery workers deserve safe conditions and fair treatment.

But good intentions don’t erase consequences.

Amazon says the bill could force it to move its last-mile delivery operations outside the city. The New York Post reports that the change could put more than 5,000 delivery jobs and another 2,000 warehouse jobs at risk, while also threatening the local businesses that employ those workers. Amazon’s warning is not proof that every threatened job will disappear. But it is a risk City Hall has to take seriously before it changes the rules. (nypost.com)

These aren’t just numbers on a spreadsheet. They’re drivers, warehouse workers, and owners of small delivery companies trying to make a living. Some of those businesses say they would have no way to operate under the bill as written. If the law eliminates the companies that employ people today, what exactly is the plan for those workers tomorrow?

Amazon is hardly a disinterested source. The company has a clear financial stake in keeping its current model. But politicians also have a stake: they get to claim they stood up to a powerful corporation. The people caught between those two forces are the workers and local business owners who may bear the cost.

The bill could also make deliveries slower and more expensive. Amazon points to a company-funded study estimating an extra $664 a year for New York households. That figure should be treated as an interested estimate, not a settled fact. Still, the broader question is real: if a policy raises operating costs, who ultimately pays? It may be the customer, the worker whose job is displaced, or the small business forced to close. (nypost.com)

If the current system is unsafe or unfair, City Hall should address those problems directly. Set clear safety standards. Enforce existing labor laws. Make sure workers have a meaningful way to raise concerns. But don’t pretend that forcing one employment structure on an entire industry carries no cost—and don’t call it worker protection if the result may be fewer jobs and fewer businesses.

The bill has strong support, but no vote is scheduled, and possible compromises are being discussed. That gives the Council time to hear from the workers, contractors, and small-business owners who will live with the consequences. (nypost.com)

Before City Hall votes to “protect” these workers, it should answer one plain question: How many of them will still have a job if this bill passes?

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative
Commentary by Ed Kowalski

Albany loves the word affordability. It appears in speeches, press releases, campaign ads, and budget announcements. But New Yorkers don’t pay their bills with speeches. They pay them with money they worked hard to earn.

And the numbers tell a story Albany would rather talk around.

New York’s all-funds spending has climbed from roughly $212 billion in the FY2022 budget to estimates approaching $277 billion today—an increase of about $65 billion, or roughly 31 percent. The starting budget was enacted before Kathy Hochul became governor, but she has led the state through much of that spending growth. Taxpayers deserve a clear answer: What have we received for all that additional money? 

The Citizens Budget Commission’s latest comparison puts New York first in state and local taxes collected per resident—about 71 percent above the national average. That figure is not quite double, as some claims suggest. It is still an extraordinary burden, especially for families watching their paychecks disappear into taxes, fees, and rising costs. 

Democrats have dominated Albany for most of the past two decades. To my Democrat friends: At what point do you look at these numbers and ask whether the party you’ve supported is still delivering for you? Where is the payoff?

And while we’re talking about affordability, we should talk honestly about illegal immigration, too. Albany has a responsibility to be transparent about the public cost of services provided to migrants and people who entered the country illegally. What is the state spending, where is that money coming from, and what services are being stretched to cover it? Those are fair questions—especially when New York families are struggling to afford housing, healthcare, and taxes of their own.

New York ranks last in economic freedom in the Cato Institute’s latest index. That ranking does not settle every argument about state policy, but it should make Albany stop and think. Instead, we get another promise that the next program, mandate, or spending increase will finally make life more affordable. 

Then there is the disconnect between Albany’s performance and Albany’s compensation. New York lawmakers earn a $142,000 base salary, among the highest in the country. New Yorkers are entitled to ask whether the results justify the paycheck—particularly when household costs keep rising and the state remains near the bottom on economic freedom. 

Energy costs show the problem clearly. New York’s electricity prices have been reported at 62 percent above the national average. Utilities have a role in setting rates, but Albany also sets policy. Taxes, fees, regulations, and energy mandates can all affect what customers pay. If state leaders want to talk seriously about affordability, they should examine the costs their own decisions add to the bill. 

Here in the Hudson Valley, people feel those choices in practical ways: the electric bill, the property-tax bill, the cost of running a small business, and the growing difficulty of staying in the community where you grew up. These aren’t abstract numbers. They shape whether a family can make ends meet and whether a local employer can afford to hire.

So when Albany advertises a tax cut, read the whole bill. A lower rate in one place can be offset by a new fee, surcharge, or mandate somewhere else. It can feel like a game of tax whack-a-mole: one charge goes down while another quietly appears.

New Yorkers should benchmark this state against the rest of the country and ask what all this spending has delivered. Democrats who care about working families should be willing to ask that question, too. Party loyalty should never mean giving Albany a blank check.

Affordability is not a slogan. It is the money left after the bills are paid. By that measure, Albany has a lot to answer for.

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative
By Ed Kowalski

In the only debate of New York’s governor’s race, Bruce Blakeman did what a challenger has to do: he put Kathy Hochul’s record on the table and made her answer for it.

He pressed her on soaring utility costs, public safety and immigration enforcement—issues New Yorkers feel in their own homes and communities. Hochul’s response too often seemed to be that Donald Trump was to blame. But voters aren’t choosing a governor to deliver a running commentary on Washington. They’re choosing someone to lead New York.

Blakeman’s strongest moments came when he brought the debate back to the cost of living. He challenged Hochul over rising utility bills and her election-year rebate, arguing that a small check doesn’t erase years of higher costs. That’s a point New Yorkers understand without a focus group: when the bills keep climbing, a one-time rebate feels less like relief than an acknowledgment that something has gone wrong.

He also challenged the governor over sanctuary policies and public safety. A state can enforce immigration law while treating people humanely. But compassion cannot mean looking away when serious criminals are involved, and local law enforcement should be able to work with federal authorities to protect the public.

The Post’s panel was divided over who won the debate, and Blakeman gave his critics an opening when he called Trump a friend. But the important question is whether he showed voters that he can stand on his own and make the case for a different direction. On the issues that matter most to families—affordability, energy and safety—he did.

Hochul has been governor. She owns the record. Blakeman is asking voters to give him the chance to change it.

New Yorkers don’t need another campaign built around who the candidates know or dislike. They need a governor focused on the people paying the bills, raising families and trying to build a future here. In this debate, Blakeman made that case more clearly. 

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative
By Ed Kowalski

A political candidate can tell you a great deal about her priorities in a single sentence.

In the aftermath of the Bronx ICE shooting, congressional candidate Darializa Avila Chevalier reportedly said that Oscar Belgal’s criminal record “doesn’t matter.” Belgal was shot during an attempted arrest. He was in a car with his five-year-old son, and the circumstances of the shooting deserve a full, impartial investigation. But the question of whether the shooting was justified is separate from whether a serious criminal record matters to public safety and immigration enforcement. Of course it does. 

That distinction should not be difficult. We can demand answers about how federal agents conducted an operation while also acknowledging that a record of serious offenses matters when authorities decide whom to arrest and whether someone should remain in the country. Accountability for law enforcement and accountability for people accused or convicted of crimes are not competing principles.

I’ve spent time working with unaccompanied minors, and I know immigration debates involve real people, families and difficult circumstances. Compassion matters. So does the safety of the neighbors who live beside someone accused of terrorizing them. The New York Post reported that Belgal had a prior armed-robbery conviction, drug-related charges and neighbors who described being frightened by him. Those reports should be examined carefully, and allegations should not be casually treated as proven facts. But a candidate who says a criminal record “doesn’t matter” is telling the public that these details carry no weight in her judgment. 

The public also deserves a clear account of the shooting itself. Reuters reported that federal officials said Belgal’s vehicle threatened officers, while the account of what happened remained contested. That is exactly why investigators should establish the facts before politicians declare the officers guilty or the shooting justified. 

But uncertainty about the shooting does not erase the larger policy question. When government officials resist cooperation over people with serious criminal histories, they owe the public an honest explanation of the risks and consequences. “Sanctuary” cannot become a magic word that ends the debate. And concern for an immigrant’s rights cannot mean indifference to the people who may have been harmed or frightened by his alleged conduct.

The words “our neighbor” can express a generous belief that every person deserves dignity. They can also be used to soften the reality that neighbors have a right to feel safe in their own community. A five-year-old child in the back seat deserves compassion. So do the residents who say they feared the man authorities were trying to arrest. The principle should be simple: protect everyone, investigate the use of force, and take serious criminal conduct seriously.

If a candidate wants public office, she should be able to hold all of those ideas at once. When she says the record “doesn’t matter,” voters are entitled to ask whose safety she believes should matter most.

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative
By Ed Kowalski

I believe in accountability. I believe the law has to mean something, and that people who commit terrible crimes must face the consequences. Nidal Hasan was convicted of murdering 13 people at Fort Hood. Nothing about this argument diminishes the horror of what he did or the grief carried by the victims’ families.

But I don’t believe the government should livestream his execution.

The Pentagon says it plans to carry out Hasan’s sentence by firing squad on December 3 and broadcast it. President Trump has since said the final decision about a livestream is his. Legal experts say the proposal raises unresolved questions, including whether a public broadcast would violate Army rules or the constitutional ban on cruel and unusual punishment.

I’ve spent years around employment law and the justice system. I’ve seen how much depends on whether institutions follow rules and treat human beings with basic dignity. I’ve also learned that accountability can be serious without becoming a performance. The state has the power to punish. That power comes with a responsibility to show restraint.

A livestream would not make Hasan’s sentence more lawful, more final or more just. It would make his death a spectacle—an execution staged for an audience under the banner of deterrence. If the government wants to explain the consequences of murder, it can do so without putting a person’s death on a screen.

I know some people will say, “He deserves it.” That may be their sincere view. But the question isn’t whether Hasan deserves sympathy. It’s what kind of government we want to be when the condemned person is someone almost everyone despises. Principles matter most when it would be easiest to set them aside.

The victims and their families deserve remembrance, justice and the space to grieve. They should not have to watch their loss turned into political theater. Nor should the government confuse public access with public entertainment.

Carry out the sentence through a lawful process, if that is what the law requires. But don’t livestream it. The government can demonstrate the seriousness of justice without inviting the country to watch a man die.

Most people who come to this country without authorization are not violent criminals. Many are working to support themselves and their families. That does not excuse breaking immigration law. And it should never require us to look away when someone here unlawfully commits a horrific crime.

The victims deserve to be remembered by name.

In 2007, three Delaware State University students—Iofemi Hightower, Dashon Harvey and Terrance Aeriel—were murdered in a Newark schoolyard. A fourth student, Natasha Aeriel, survived after being shot and assaulted. One of the defendants, Jose Carranza, was an undocumented immigrant who was out on bail in another case when the attack happened.

There was Min Chang, an 18-year-old freshman at UNC Charlotte, killed by a drunk driver who had entered the country unlawfully and had a prior DWI conviction. There was Matthew Denice, a 23-year-old Massachusetts motorcyclist killed when an undocumented driver, drunk and driving without a license, struck him and dragged him beneath his truck.

There was Sarah Root, a 21-year-old Nebraska woman killed in a crash involving Eswin Mejia, who was charged with vehicular homicide, released on bond and fled the country. In 2025, he was extradited from Honduras to face those charges.

There was Laken Riley, a 22-year-old nursing student murdered while out for a run at the University of Georgia. Jose Ibarra was convicted of her murder and sentenced to life in prison. And there was Rachel Morin, a 37-year-old mother of five, raped and murdered on a Maryland hiking trail. Victor Martinez-Hernandez was convicted and sentenced to life without parole.

And there was Sheridan Gorman, an 18-year-old from Yorktown Heights and a Loyola University Chicago freshman. She was walking with friends near campus when she was fatally shot. Jose Medina has been charged with first-degree murder; the Department of Homeland Security says he is an undocumented immigrant from Venezuela.

In the Bronx, Claretha LaQuesha Daniels and Justin Lawless were killed in a 2024 shooting. Four members of Tren de Aragua later pleaded guilty to their murders.

Every one of these names belongs to a family whose life was changed forever. These cases do not prove that immigrants as a group are dangerous, and they cannot tell us how often undocumented immigrants commit crimes. They do show why enforcement failures matter: when people who have been deported, arrested or convicted are allowed to remain or return without consequence, the results can be devastating.

We should also be precise about crime statistics. The government does not have one complete national accounting of crimes categorized by an offender’s immigration status. A recent Government Accountability Office report describes gaps in the available incarceration data, including limits in what state and local jurisdictions report. Sweeping claims about comparative crime rates require evidence the country does not consistently collect.

But uncertainty about national numbers does not erase individual cases—or excuse officials who fail to enforce the law. We can recognize that most immigrants are not violent criminals while still insisting that immigration laws mean something, that serious offenders are not released or allowed to return without consequence, and that grieving families are not dismissed as political props.

I welcome legal immigration. Our country has been strengthened by generations of people who came here, followed the process and built lives for their families. But a nation of laws must enforce its laws fairly and consistently. Calling every demand for enforcement “racist” or “xenophobic” shuts down debate; it does nothing for public safety or for the victims’ families.

Remember their names. Then ask the government to do its job.

A camera under a woman’s desk. A supervisor who had power over her at work. Photographs taken without her knowledge.

Call it what it was: a calculated violation of a woman’s privacy by the man who was supposed to lead her department.

Former Pleasant Valley Highway Superintendent John Baxter was sentenced to 60 days in the Dutchess County Jail after being convicted of two misdemeanor counts of attempted unlawful surveillance. He must report by November 1. The camera was discovered beneath his secretary’s desk at the Highway Department. Investigators later recovered images from Baxter’s phone, which he had deleted.

The word “upskirting” can make this sound like a crude joke or a passing lapse in judgment. It was neither. It was secret surveillance in a workplace, aimed at an employee who had every right to feel safe at her desk.

At sentencing, Beth Ann Mona’s statement described the damage: fear, anger, betrayal, and a daily struggle to regain a sense of normalcy. During the trial, the defense focused on what she wore and the words she used to describe what happened. That approach did not weaken the case against Baxter. It compounded the harm to the woman who had already been violated.

The probation report said Baxter showed no signs of remorse or responsibility. Then, in court, he said he never meant to hurt her. But remorse is more than a sentence delivered at the moment a judge is about to impose punishment. And “I didn’t mean to hurt her” does not answer the central question: why was a hidden camera under her desk in the first place?

His wife and a neighbor asked for leniency. His lawyer argued that Baxter had lost a great deal. That may be true. But sympathy for the consequences he now faces cannot be allowed to eclipse the woman who had to endure the violation, the trial, and the public scrutiny that followed.

Baxter once held an elected office and authority over a town employee. That makes this a matter of public trust, not private embarrassment. The town reported the discovery to the Dutchess County Sheriff’s Office, and Baxter resigned after his conviction. Those steps were necessary. They do not make the damage disappear.

Sixty days in jail is the sentence. Whether it is enough is for the victim and the community to judge. But no one should confuse a court-imposed sentence with a clean slate. The case should leave Pleasant Valley with a harder question: what safeguards make it possible for employees to report abuse by someone who holds power over them—and know they will be protected?

Public office is a public trust. When an official abuses that trust, accountability cannot end with his resignation or a short stay in jail. The person harmed should not be left carrying the consequences alone.

There is a difference between compassion and pretending consequences do not matter.

A 24-year-old Brewster man was arrested twice within 18 hours last week. He is accused of robbing a gas station and assaulting its clerk, then forcibly touching a woman aboard a Metro-North train. Those are allegations, and they must be proven in court. But Putnam County Sheriff Brian Hess says the man had been arrested 17 times and had five interactions with law enforcement in less than 48 hours. The report also says the Department of Homeland Security cited prior sex-offense convictions and that ICE had lodged a detainer.

Here is the question local residents deserve answered: How did someone with that history keep cycling back onto the street?

According to the sheriff, Rodriguez-Ordonez left jail after serving 60 days on a criminal-mischief charge. Hours later, police were responding to an attempted bank break-in, a gas-station robbery and a flight into the woods. He was released on his own recognizance with an ankle monitor, the sheriff said. The report then describes another police encounter, a hospital visit and the alleged assault on the train.

This is not an argument that every immigrant is dangerous. That would be wrong, and it would be a cheap way to avoid the real issue. Most people who come here are not accused of violent crimes. But when an individual has repeated arrests, prior convictions and new serious allegations, the public is entitled to ask whether the system is doing its job.

Law enforcement cannot be expected to arrest the same person again and again while everyone else shrugs and calls it a complicated problem. Police officers can investigate. Sheriffs can warn. Prosecutors can present evidence. Judges make release decisions. And when federal immigration authorities lodge a detainer, the public deserves a clear account of how that request is handled.

The woman on that train deserves justice. The gas-station clerk deserves justice. The residents who rely on those trains, stores and streets deserve to know that public safety is being taken seriously.

And the accused deserves due process. Those principles belong together. Upholding the law means investigating these latest allegations fairly, honoring the court process, and being honest about the earlier decisions that put this situation back in motion.

Compassion should never require us to look away from victims. And a serious commitment to public safety should not require us to condemn an entire community for one man’s alleged actions. The responsibility here is more specific: establish the facts, hold the right people accountable, and explain how this pattern was allowed to continue.

We should be able to demand that without apology.

Putnam County voters don’t need another campaign speech about integrity. They need to know whether the people asking for their votes follow the rules that govern everyone else—and whether the courts applying those rules can earn public confidence.

A Putnam County judge has ruled that County Executive Kevin Byrne’s campaign violated state election law by accepting contributions above the legal limit. The ruling involved 10 donors and nearly $19,500 in contributions identified in the lawsuit. Judge Victor Grossman ordered the campaign to reimburse those donors and barred it from accepting further contributions above the limit. 

There is also political context voters should know. New York’s Board of Elections lists Grossman as a Democrat. Before seeking a seat on the State Supreme Court, he chaired the Putnam County Democratic Committee; in 2013, he received the Democratic nomination and appeared on multiple party lines, including the Conservative line. 

That background does not prove the ruling was politically motivated. It does make the optics impossible to ignore: a Democratic judge ruling against a Republican county executive in the middle of an election campaign. In a system where judges run for office under party labels and seek party endorsements, voters are entitled to ask questions about the process and expect the court to explain its reasoning clearly.

The lawsuit, meanwhile, was filed by five Putnam County voters, and the campaign says it had already mailed refund checks before the judge ruled. Those facts belong in the story too. They complicate the easy partisan script, but they don’t erase the court’s finding that the campaign accepted contributions above the legal limit. 

The campaign called the lawsuit politically motivated. Maybe politics played a role; it’s an election year. But the same standard applies to the court: the judge’s party history is relevant context, not proof of bias. The ruling should stand or fall on the law, the evidence and the reasoning laid out for the public.

That is why the written record matters. Voters should be able to see precisely what the judge found, what remedy he ordered, and how he addressed the campaign’s claim that it had already returned the money. Transparency is especially important when a ruling lands in the middle of a competitive local election.

Campaign finance rules exist because public trust is easy to spend and hard to earn. Contribution limits are meant to stop wealthy donors, unions, businesses or political committees from gaining outsized influence over the people who make decisions for us. When a campaign accepts more than the law allows, voters have every right to ask how it happened, when it was disclosed and whether the money was returned promptly.

And let’s be fair: the same standard must apply regardless of party, office or political alliance. If a Democrat’s campaign crossed the limit, Republicans would be right to demand answers. If a Republican’s campaign did it, Democrats are right to ask the same questions. Accountability that appears only when it hurts the other side is just another campaign prop.

So here’s the test for everyone involved: the campaign should explain its conduct plainly, and the judge should let the record speak for the ruling. Voters can consider both the legal findings and the political context without pretending either one cancels out the other.

That is how public trust is earned. And it is how it gets lost.

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative

I spent part of this morning on the radio talking about the new Supreme Court term — the cases, the constitutional questions and the decisions that could have consequences long after this term ends.

And after I left the microphone, one thought stayed with me.

The nine people in the black robes are back at work.

And before anyone begins cheering because we supposedly have a “conservative Supreme Court,” allow me to spoil the party.

I don’t particularly want a conservative Supreme Court.

I don’t want a liberal Supreme Court, either.

I want a constitutional Supreme Court.

There is a difference.

The cases coming before the Court touch some of the most combustible issues in America: immigration, guns, religious liberty, climate change, presidential authority and the power of government itself.

Different cases. Different laws. Different political constituencies.

But as I said on the radio this morning, scratch beneath the surface and you’ll discover that many of these disputes eventually arrive at the same question:

Who gets to decide?

That’s the question I’m increasingly interested in.

Not whether Donald Trump wins.

Not whether Democrats win.

Not whether Republicans get to spike the football on cable television.

Who has the power?

And, perhaps more importantly:

Where does that power stop?

Start With Guns

The Court is confronting another major Second Amendment fight involving state restrictions on AR-15-style semiautomatic rifles.

That matters everywhere.

It certainly matters in New York.

We’ve been through this before.

In District of Columbia v. Heller, the Supreme Court recognized an individual right to possess firearms.

Then came New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen — a case born right here in New York — in which the Court emphasized America’s historical tradition of firearm regulation when evaluating modern restrictions.

Now comes another unavoidable question.

Can government prohibit an entire category of semiautomatic rifles commonly owned by Americans?

Gun-control advocates will argue that states need broad authority to protect their citizens from weapons they believe pose an extraordinary public-safety threat.

Gun-rights advocates will argue something equally fundamental:

A constitutional right doesn’t disappear because politicians find the exercise of that right frightening or unpopular.

That’s precisely when constitutional rights matter most.

If the Bill of Rights protected only things government approved of, we wouldn’t need a Bill of Rights.

Immigration Is Coming Back Too

The Trump administration’s immigration policies are again generating constitutional battles.

And here’s where I occasionally irritate everybody.

I believe a sovereign nation has not merely the right, but the responsibility, to enforce its immigration laws.

I support immigration enforcement.

I support ICE performing its lawful mission.

I also believe government power requires constitutional boundaries.

Those aren’t contradictory positions.

They’re supposed to be the American position.

Cases involving deportations, detention and the process afforded to people facing removal will force the Court to confront the intersection of executive authority and individual due process.

And I’m perfectly capable of supporting the enforcement of immigration law while still asking:

What process does the Constitution require government to follow?

That’s not weakness.

That’s constitutional government.

Because here’s the dangerous game we increasingly play in America.

When our guy is president, executive power suddenly looks wonderful.

When the other guy becomes president, we suddenly rediscover James Madison.

Maybe we should care about constitutional limits regardless of who occupies the Oval Office.

There’s a novel idea.

Then There’s Religious Liberty

Another important case this term involves a Catholic preschool seeking to participate in Colorado’s publicly funded preschool program while maintaining its religious beliefs.

The government essentially says:

If you’re accepting public money, you follow the rules of the public program.

The religious institution responds:

Government cannot offer a benefit to everybody and then tell religious organizations that participation requires abandoning their religious convictions.

That’s not merely a fight about preschool.

It’s a First Amendment fight.

At what point does a legitimate government condition become government coercion?

And when government opens a public program to private institutions, how much authority does it have to tell religious institutions what they must believe or practice?

Those questions extend far beyond one Catholic school in Colorado.

Climate Change Goes to Court

Then there are climate lawsuits against energy companies.

And here again, forget for a moment whether you like oil companies.

That’s not the constitutional question that interests me.

The larger question is whether sweeping national policy should be created through Congress — where legislators debate it and eventually answer to voters — or through lawsuits brought in individual state courts.

Climate policy affects virtually everything.

Energy prices.

Transportation.

Manufacturing.

Jobs.

Electricity.

The economy.

So if America is going to fundamentally restructure energy policy, perhaps somebody ought to explain why that shouldn’t happen through the people we actually elect to make national policy.

Remember Congress?

They’re the several hundred people we send to Washington who occasionally appear on television explaining why somebody else should solve the problem.

And That’s Really the Story

This was the point I kept coming back to during this morning’s radio conversation.

We spend enormous amounts of time arguing about the outcomes of Supreme Court cases.

Conservatives want one result.

Liberals want another.

Cable television assembles two panels.

Everybody yells.

Commercial break.

Repeat.

I’m increasingly interested in something deeper.

Who possesses the power?

Can a president do this?

Can Congress delegate that?

Can a governor prohibit this?

Can a state court impose that?

Can an administrative agency invent a rule Congress never actually passed?

Can a federal judge stop a president’s policy nationwide?

And perhaps the most uncomfortable question of all:

Who watches the people doing the watching?

I’ve spent enough time watching our federal court system to reject the fairy tale that judges somehow become immune from human weakness the moment somebody hands them a robe.

Judges are human beings.

They make mistakes.

They have philosophies.

They have biases.

They exercise enormous power.

And enormous power should always invite enormous scrutiny.

That applies to presidents.

Governors.

Legislatures.

Prosecutors.

Administrative agencies.

And yes — judges.

Especially judges.

The Constitution Isn’t a Team Jersey

There will probably be Supreme Court decisions this term that I applaud.

There may be others that make me want to throw something at the television.

That’s constitutional government.

The Court’s job isn’t to make conservatives happy.

It isn’t to make liberals happy.

And it certainly isn’t to guarantee Donald Trump, Kathy Hochul or anyone else a favorable political outcome.

Its job is to interpret the Constitution and determine where government’s authority ends.

We’ve become dangerously comfortable judging governmental power according to whether our side happens to be exercising it.

I don’t buy that.

If a power would terrify you in the hands of the politician you despise, perhaps you shouldn’t be quite so enthusiastic about giving it to the politician you love.

Because politicians change.

Parties change.

Presidents change.

The Constitution doesn’t change every four years.

At least it isn’t supposed to.

So as this new Supreme Court term unfolds, I’ll be watching the gun cases.

I’ll be watching immigration.

I’ll be watching religious liberty.

I’ll be watching the fights over executive authority and the power of the courts themselves.

But mostly, I’ll be watching one thing.

Power.

Who has it.

Who wants more of it.

Who is willing to surrender it.

And whether nine people sitting inside that magnificent building at One First Street are still willing to tell the rest of government the two words government has never particularly enjoyed hearing:

You can’t.

And maybe that’s the most important job the Supreme Court has.

Not deciding who wins.

Deciding where power stops.

To comfort the afflicted… and afflict the comfortable.

There were no campaign rallies. No yard signs. No television ads. No candidates knocking on doors asking for your vote.

Yet over the next nine months, those nine people may make decisions affecting immigration, gun ownership, climate policy, voting rules, religious liberty and the reach of government itself.

Welcome to another Supreme Court term.

And if you think this is simply a collection of obscure legal disputes being argued by lawyers in expensive suits, you haven’t been paying attention.

Because underneath almost every major case this term is essentially the same question:

Who gets to decide?

Congress?

The President?

The states?

Federal agencies?

Local governments?

Or judges?

That question has fascinated me for years, particularly as I have watched our federal courts become increasingly entangled in political disputes that once would have been settled through elections and legislatures.

And this term may provide one of the clearest tests yet of where those boundaries actually lie.

The Court opened its new term Monday with Suncor Energy v. Boulder County, a case arising from efforts by Boulder, Colorado, to hold ExxonMobil and Suncor financially responsible under state law for alleged climate-related harms. The energy companies argue that questions involving global greenhouse-gas emissions cannot effectively be regulated through a patchwork of state-court lawsuits. (Constitution Center)

Forget for a moment whether you love Exxon, hate Exxon or couldn’t find Suncor on a map.

The larger question matters.

Can individual cities and states effectively establish national environmental policy through litigation?

That’s not really a climate-change question.

It’s a federalism question.

And those questions are everywhere this term.

The Court will consider challenges to bans on AR-15-style semiautomatic rifles in Illinois and Connecticut. Roughly a dozen states prohibit weapons categorized under their laws as assault weapons. Gun-rights advocates argue that commonly owned semiautomatic rifles are protected by the Second Amendment; states defend the restrictions as legitimate public-safety measures. (AP News)

That one ought to get New Yorkers’ attention.

The Court’s 2022 Bruen decision began with a New York gun law and dramatically reshaped Second Amendment jurisprudence by requiring gun restrictions to be evaluated against the nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation.

Now the Court returns to the battlefield.

Then there is immigration.

The justices have agreed to hear significant challenges involving the Trump administration’s immigration enforcement policies, including detention of certain immigrants without bond hearings and deportations to third countries—countries where the person being deported may have no citizenship or previous connection. (AP News)

This is where political slogans become considerably less useful.

I believe a country has every right—and obligation—to enforce its borders and immigration laws.

But believing in immigration enforcement doesn’t require surrendering due process.

Those principles are not mutually exclusive.

A government powerful enough to ignore legal protections when dealing with someone you don’t particularly like is eventually powerful enough to ignore them when dealing with someone you do.

Conservatives, of all people, should understand that.

Religious liberty is also back before the Court.

In St. Mary Catholic Parish v. Roy, a Catholic preschool in Colorado argues that it was improperly excluded from the state’s universal preschool program because of religious policies concerning admissions and sexuality. Colorado says participation in the publicly funded program requires compliance with nondiscrimination requirements. (The Washington Post)

Again:

Who gets to decide?

Can government offer a generally available public benefit and then exclude a religious institution because the institution actually behaves according to its religion?

Or does accepting taxpayer money permit the government to impose conditions that otherwise would interfere with religious practice?

Those aren’t academic questions.

They reach Catholic schools, Jewish schools, Christian charities, adoption organizations and religious nonprofits throughout this country.

And then there are elections.

The Court will consider Arizona voting provisions involving proof of citizenship and voter-roll requirements, putting another politically explosive question before the justices as Americans head toward the 2026 midterms. (AP News)

Republicans will talk about election integrity.

Democrats will talk about voter suppression.

Both sides will immediately announce that democracy itself is hanging in the balance.

Apparently democracy spends a remarkable amount of time hanging in the balance these days.

But beneath the political theater lies a legitimate constitutional argument about how far states may go in establishing qualifications and procedures intended to ensure that only eligible citizens participate in elections.

And there will almost certainly be more.

The docket remains unfinished. Additional disputes involving presidential authority and other controversial policies could still reach the Court. (The Washington Post)

Which brings me to something increasingly uncomfortable.

Americans have developed a strange relationship with the Supreme Court.

When the Court gives us the result we want, we suddenly become constitutional scholars.

When it doesn’t, the justices become corrupt political operatives in robes.

Conservatives did it when liberal courts expanded constitutional rights they believed weren’t actually contained in the Constitution.

Liberals do it today when the Roberts Court overturns precedents they considered settled.

I have my own serious concerns about the federal judiciary. Regular readers know that.

Lifetime appointments should not mean lifetime immunity from scrutiny.

Judicial independence is essential.

Judicial accountability is too.

Those ideas can coexist.

But there is another danger here that gets considerably less attention.

We increasingly ask courts to settle disputes that the political branches are afraid—or incapable—of resolving themselves.

Congress doesn’t act.

Presidents stretch executive authority.

Federal agencies discover powers nobody previously knew they possessed.

States push constitutional boundaries.

Advocacy organizations sue.

And eventually everyone arrives at One First Street demanding that nine unelected judges tell 340 million Americans what the rules are.

Then we complain that the Supreme Court has too much power.

Perhaps.

But sometimes we hand it to them.

That may ultimately be the real story of the Supreme Court’s 2026–27 term.

Yes, there will be decisions about guns.

Immigration.

Religion.

Voting.

Climate litigation.

Presidential authority.

And probably several controversies we haven’t even seen coming yet.

But behind virtually all of them is a much older argument about the American experiment.

Government has power.

But government has limits.

Presidents have power.

But presidents have limits.

States have power.

But states have limits.

And yes, judges have power.

They damn well ought to have limits too.

The Constitution was never designed to guarantee that our side wins.

It was designed to establish rules governing what happens when our side doesn’t.

That’s considerably harder.

It is also considerably more important.

So I’ll be watching the Supreme Court closely this term—not because I expect nine people in Washington to save the Republic.

Frankly, I become nervous whenever anyone expects nine people in Washington to save anything.

I’ll be watching because the most important question before this Court may not be whether conservatives or liberals win.

It may be whether, somewhere beneath all the politics, we can still remember the difference between power and authority.

Power is the ability to do something.

Authority is the constitutional right to do it.

And in a republic, that distinction is pretty much everything.

To comfort the afflicted…and afflict the comfortable.

A Valley Viewpoint Narrative