Yes, Trump’s flag-burning executive order is constitutional



In 1989, Justice Antonin Scalia cast the deciding vote to overturn the conviction of Gregory Lee Johnson, who was arrested and found guilty of violating a Texas statute after he burned the American flag outside the Republican National Convention.

The author of the 5-4 opinion was Justice William Brennan, the leading liberal and advocate for the “living Constitution” on the Supreme Court. For conservatives, it was one of the two most widely criticized votes of Justice Scalia’s illustrious career (the other being his vote refusing to recognize that parents have a natural, constitutionally protected right to direct the upbringing of their children).

The president’s executive order is not only much needed and long overdue, but is also very likely to be upheld by the Supreme Court when the inevitable challenges arise.

But the opinion by Brennan, which Scalia joined, is not as absolute as it has subsequently been portrayed.

The historical context

It specifically held that Texas violated the First Amendment by prosecuting Johnson “in these circumstances” — that is, expressive conduct or symbolic speech as part of a political protest that was not designed to incite a crowd (nor did it have that effect). It also held that the “government generally has a freer hand in restricting expressive conduct than it has in restricting the written or spoken word.” Only laws directed at restricting the communicative nature of expressive conduct implicate the First Amendment, and even then they can be upheld for a valid governmental interest.

Texas offered two governmental interests in defense of its flag-burning statute: 1) preventing breaches of the peace and 2) preserving the flag as a symbol of national unity. The court rejected the second because it was related to the suppression of expression, and it rejected the first because “it was not implicated” in the case.

That is the important caveat in Texas v. Johnson that President Donald Trump’s executive order, “Prosecuting Burning of the American Flag,” seeks to capitalize on.

A needed change

After articulating why the flag is such a cherished symbol, one for which “many thousands of American patriots have fought, bled, and died to keep ... waving,” the order asserts, “Desecrating it is uniquely offensive and provocative,” and is “a statement of contempt, hostility, and violence against our Nation.”

It then invokes the Texas v. Johnsoncaveat: “Burning this representation of America may incite violence and riot. American Flag burning is also used by groups of foreign nationals as a calculated act to intimidate and threaten violence against Americans because of their nationality and place of birth.”

The order correctly points out that the Supreme Court “has never held that American Flag desecration conducted in a manner that is likely to incite imminent lawless action or that is an action amounting to ‘fighting words’ is constitutionally protected.” And it laudably directs the attorney general to prioritize the enforcement of civil and criminal laws against flag desecration, quite correctly limiting it to flag-burning conduct that causes harm “unrelated to expression” in order to be consistent with the First Amendment as interpreted by the Supreme Court in Texas v. Johnson.

RELATED: College students say American flag symbolizes ‘genocide,’ ‘extremism,’ ‘injustice,’ and ‘sins’ we’ve committed against others

Photo by BRANDONJ74 via Getty Images

Maintaining precedent

After 35 years of timid responses to the flag-burning case, in which elected officials and law enforcement at every level thought flag-burning was constitutionally protected no matter the circumstances (an erroneous view repeated ad nauseam by many critics of the president’s order), President Trump has taken a long-overdue stand to protect the flag. He is seeking to safeguard it from those who would burn it to incite violence, provoke with “fighting words,” or more broadly, seek to intimidate Americans from expressing patriotism and applauding American exceptionalism.

The incitement, fighting words, and intimidation exceptions have sometimes themselves been limited to acts targeting particular individuals rather than groups. But as the Supreme Court recognized in Virginia v. Black, a cross-burning case that was decided 14 years after Texas v. Johnson, the First Amendment doesn’t necessarily protect such conduct when targeting groups rather than specific individuals.

The aggressive use of American flag-burning as a tactic of incitement and intimidation, which has been on display in cities across the country in response to President Trump’s efforts to enforce our nation’s immigration laws, demonstrates that “in these circumstances” (as distinct from the milquetoast circumstances at issue in Texas v. Johnson), the president’s executive order is not only much needed and long overdue, but is also very likely to be upheld by the Supreme Court when the inevitable challenges arise.

Editor’s note: This article was originally published on the American Mind.

We say we want free speech — until we hear something we hate



The First Amendment is clear: “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech.” No qualifiers. No exceptions. Just liberty.

Forged in rebellion, the First Amendment protects the unsavory as much as the noble. Yet Americans in 2025 — left, right, and center — still can’t stomach it. We’re too emotional, too fragile, and too quick to clutch pearls or pitchforks when words sting.

Absolute free speech demands that we ditch the training wheels and face the chaos.

Historically, liberals owned the free speech mantle. Think of the ’60s counterculture, railing against establishment censors. However, that legacy began to crumble when Tipper Gore pushed for “Parental Advisory” stickers, and it outright shattered during the 2020 election and COVID-19 pandemic.

The left became the “script enforcers.” Dissenters questioning lockdowns or vaccine effectiveness were branded “misinformation” spreaders and booted from Twitter and Facebook. Big Tech, egged on by progressive lawmakers, didn’t just moderate — it silenced. The party of free expression revealed its censorious streak, proving that power trumps principle every time.

Conservatives took up the free speech mantle — so they say. Elon Musk’s 2022 purchase of Twitter promised a free speech renaissance. He called it a platform for unfiltered truth — a digital town square — and it felt like that for a while. Users could breathe easier, tossing out hot takes without instant banishment. But the honeymoon’s over. X still throttles visibility on certain topics: any post with the word “trannies,” questioning foreign aid to Israel, or disputing the timing of a push for more H-1B visas, to name a few.

Even the champions of “absolute free speech” have limits they won’t admit.

The First Amendment doesn’t care about your feelings — or mine. That’s the hard truth. It protects the speech we all hate — slurs, rants, provocations. The Supreme Court has carved out narrow exceptions: You can’t defame with reckless lies (New York Times v. Sullivan, 1964) or incite imminent violence (Brandenburg v. Ohio, 1969).

However, today's content getting axed — even on so-called “free speech bastions” like X — rarely crosses those lines. It’s just “uncomfortable.”

“Hate speech,” a term so elastic that it’s meaningless, gets slapped on anything from locker-room trash talk to policy critiques. Thankfully, the Constitution doesn’t bend for hurt feelings. It’s absolute until a court says otherwise — and courts have historically leaned hard toward liberty.

Take Cohen v. California (1971). A guy wore a jacket saying “F**k the Draft” into a courthouse. Though his jacket was certainly offensive, the Supreme Court ruled that it was protected speech, noting that “one man’s vulgarity is another’s lyric.”

Similarly, in Snyder v. Phelps (2011), the Supreme Court ruled 8-1 that Westboro Baptist protesters, who picketed soldiers’ funerals with vile signs, were protected under the First Amendment. The pattern is clear: The framers of the Constitution established a system in which words can be expressed freely, and judges sort the mess later — not moderators, not mobs, not you.

So why can’t we handle free speech? Liberals want safe spaces; conservatives want certain topics off-limits. During COVID-19, the left cried “public health” to justify silencing skeptics. Now, some on the right clutch their chests over critiques of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee influence or aid to Israel — topics that deserve debate, not gag orders.

Both sides claim they’re protecting society, but they’re really protecting their feelings. Absolute free speech demands that we ditch the training wheels and face the chaos. Americans on both sides, however, keep reaching for the mute button.

The X experiment proves it. Musk handed us the keys to a more unrestrained platform, but users — left and right — still howl when they see something they hate. Visibility limits persist, not because Musk is a fraud but because the consumer base demands it.

We’re not a society built for unfiltered truth; we’re too hooked on comfort. The First Amendment promises a brawl of ideas. Until we grow thicker skin, we’ll keep begging someone — government, tech lords, or whoever — to play referee.

Absolute free speech isn’t a fantasy; it’s the law. Courts have defended it for decades, but we fail to actually live it. Conservatives might lead the charge, but even they flinch at speech they hate.

Republican senator challenges union boss to a cage fight



A Republican senator and a union boss exchanged heated remarks in a Senate hearing this past March. Now — if there is any bite to the teamster's bark — there's a chance the two might exchange blows in the octagon.

What's the background?

During a Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee hearing on March 8, Sen. Markwayne Mullin (R-Okla.) struck a nerve, intimating that while Sean O'Brien, general president of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters, makes close to $200,000 a year, he doesn't bring much "to the table."

Mullin asked the teamster boss, "What do you bring for that salary? ... What job have you created?"

O'Brien suggested the senator was "out of line," then proceeded to call him a "greedy CEO" and accused him of hiding money while running his plumbing company.

Despite sporadic efforts on the part of Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) to intervene, Mullin hit back at O'Brien, saying, "You think you're smart? You think you're funny? You're not," intimating that the committee witness' combative testimony hinted at the kind of intimidation honest union workers routinely suffer at the hands of teamsters.

Markwayne Mullin Goes Nuclear On Labor Leader In Fiery Hearing On Unions youtu.be

Title fight

After stewing for months, O'Brien took to Twitter on June 21 to accuse Mullin of being "full of sh**," adding, "The more you run your mouth, the more you show the American public what a moron you are."

O'Brien proceeded to repeat his March comments, calling the Oklahoma senator a "Greedy CEO who pretends like he's self made" and a "clown."

The teamster boss went so far as to suggest his openness to fisticuffs, tweeting, "You know where to find me. Anyplace, Anytime cowboy."

Mullin, a Cherokee father of six and undefeated former MMA fighter, accepted the teamster's challenge, letting him know he had three days to agree to turn his typing hands into fists.

"An attention-seeking union Teamster boss is trying to be punchy after our Senate hearing. Okay, I accept your challenge," wrote Mullin. "MMA fight for charity of our choice. Sept 30th in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I’ll give you 3 days to accept."

— (@)

A history of violence

According to Sherdog.com, Mullin won all three of his professional MMA fights in the middleweight class, despite a shoulder injured in his youth.

In November 2006, he won an Xtreme Fighting League bout against Bobby Kelley by submission with a rear-naked choke in 46 seconds.

In February 2007, he took out Clinton Bonds in an XFL SuperBrawl match by submission. He faced Bonds again in April 2007 and defeated him in 1:27 with a total knockout, ensured with punches.

The National Wrestling Hall of Fame indicated that "Mullin did whatever it took to wrestle through elementary and middle school, including switching schools four times after the school he was attending canceled its wrestling program."

In a well-timed Spectator profile released Monday, Ben Domenech suggested that the "veins on Mullin’s arms are the first thing you notice. He’s not built like a senator, he’s built like a man who could leap off the top rope and drive you into the mat. He is a member of the Cherokee Nation, the first Native American in the Senate since the retirement of Colorado’s Ben Nighthorse Campbell in 2005."

Domenech continued, "Ripped, bearded, with a belt buckle the size of a hubcap and a Stetson worn as if he’s had it on since the womb, he looks like Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone’s more ab-focused brother," adding, Mullin is the "most mercurial and unknown member of the Senate."

O'Brien has an opportunity to get to know the allegedly unknown senator a whole lot better.

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How The Supreme Court Made It Easier To Smear People As Racists And Scream The F-Word In Public

Instead of protecting true free speech, we’ve crushed the speech that matters most: the articulation and testing of the truth.