By David Frum
Monday, July 13, 2026
This is not a sentence written often lately, but the U.S.
Supreme Court has just done a great service to American democracy.
On June 30, the Court struck down
federal limits on the amount of money that political parties can spend in
coordination with individual federal candidates. Some early reports on National
Republican Senatorial Committee v. Federal Election Commission represented
the 6–3 decision as a victory for big money. To some extent, it is—but for
once, in a good way.
Years of campaign-finance reforms have curbed the power
and leverage that the Republican and Democratic Parties have had in elections,
which has handily undermined the quality of candidates on the ballot (see:
Graham Platner). Letting the parties spend more should helpfully restore some
of their leverage. When the parties were stronger, they somehow managed to
assemble hundreds of contending interest groups into just two broad coalitions.
They negotiated compromises and reconciled differences. Who has that job now?
For decades, people who call themselves political
reformers have agreed that the hero of American democracy is the small-dollar
donor. Instead of the corrupting influence of big donors and party bosses,
public-spirited citizens would send their $20 checks to candidates who stood up
for ordinary people. That was the theory.
But decades of elections and innovations in small-donor
fundraising have proved this theory false.
Small donors consistently make bad decisions for bad reasons. Like large
donors, they are disproportionately ideological and hyper-partisan. They
regularly value conflict over achievement. They are overimpressed by
performances on TV and social media. They act on impulse. They often neglect
the downballot candidates necessary to build majorities that get things done.
As the political-science professors Zachary Albert and
Raymond La Raja write in their new book, Small Donors
in US Politics: Myth and Reality, “The elevation of small donors, in
effect, may address one type of bias (the outsized influence of the wealthy)
but neglect or worsen another type of bias (the growing influence of the most
extreme voters), which is no less problematic.” That cautionary may is
necessary because small donors, although not ultrarich, are generally richer
than the average American. Instead of serving the needs of ordinary voters,
small donors actually pull the political system toward the intensely partisan
cultural and social causes that excite Americans of above-average income.
Some of the star recipients of small-dollar donations
over the past two decades have been, on the Republican side, Ron Paul, Marjorie
Taylor Greene, Michele Bachmann, Allen West, Sharron Angle, and Donald Trump;
on the Democratic side, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders. Nearly 60
percent of Platner’s donations arrived in gifts less than $200.
If the small donor is advertised as the hero of politics,
the party “machine” or “establishment” has long been condemned as the villain.
The Illinois liberal stalwart Abner Mikva—who served in state politics and all
three branches of the federal government from the mid-1950s to the
mid-1990s—often told a
story that expressed his generation’s scorn for machine politics:
It was 1948. I had just come to
Chicago, in Illinois, from Wisconsin … Adlai Stevenson was running for governor
and Paul Douglas was running for senator, so I stopped in at the Eighth Ward
regular Democratic-organization headquarters. I said, “Hi, I’m Abner Mikva; I’d
like to volunteer for Stevenson and Douglas.” And the quintessential Chicago
ward committeeman took the cigar out of his mouth, leered at me, and said, “Who
sent you, kid?” I said, “Well, nobody sent me.” He put the cigar back in and
says, “We don’t want nobody nobody sent.” And that was the beginning of my
political career in Chicago.
The post-Watergate campaign-finance reforms of the ’70s
restricted the flow of party funds into federal politics. The McCain-Feingold
campaign-finance legislation of 2002 blocked the flow of party funds into state
politics if those funds might be used in ways to benefit federal candidates
indirectly.
The combined effect of these laws was to redirect big
money into new vehicles, such as political-action committees and super PACs.
Two 2010 cases—Citizens United v. FEC at the Supreme Court and SpeechNow.org
v. FEC at the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals—liberated these vehicles to
spend unlimited amounts to influence campaigns and elections. PACs performed
some functions of the old parties, including candidate recruitment and
selection. But they were less transparent and accountable than the parties, and
less permanent. They come, and—like some of the big Republican PACs of the Paul
Ryan era—they go.
Neither PACs nor the small donors accept the most
fundamental mission of the old parties: mediating factional disagreements that
now play out as ugly spectacle.
In 2015, Jonathan Rauch argued about
politics: “We live in a world of second and often third choices, and in order
to govern one must make decisions and engage in practices which look bad up
close and are hard to defend in public but which, nonetheless, seem to be the
best alternative at the time.” Navigating this world of second choices requires
institutions built for the long haul: the parties. But restoring this bygone
power to the national parties has long seemed out of reach.
The Supreme Court has now opened the way. NRSC v. FEC allows
parties back into campaigns and elections. Until June 30, federal law capped
how much parties could spend on congressional and Senate races in coordination
with their candidate, the amount varying according to the district’s or state’s
population. In 2026, the caps were set at roughly $130,600 to just more than $4
million for Senate races, and $65,300 to $130,600 for House races.
By removing these caps, the decision grants parties real
leverage again. When parties can spend massive amounts of money, they can
withhold money as well. In Maine, for example, national Democrats tried to warn
local Democrats that Graham Platner was a poor choice for the U.S. Senate
nomination. NSRC v. FEC would put teeth into such warnings: If you
heed our advice, we will help a lot; if you don’t, we’ll redirect our resources
to more promising races in other states.
Since 2010, candidate quality has become a grave and
growing problem for both parties, especially in Senate elections. Remember the “I’m
not a witch” lady who gave away a U.S. Senate seat for Delaware that
Republicans could have won in 2010? Todd “Legitimate Rape” Akin in Missouri in
2012? And
so on to the conspiracy
theorist and venture capitalist Blake Masters, who lost Arizona for the
Republicans in 2022? The problem has become acute on the Democratic side in the
current cycle, and the national party has proved ineffectual in supporting more
electable candidates, especially in Maine and Michigan.
Party power—and party wisdom—has an opportunity now to
reassert itself, thanks to the Supreme Court. After years of oligarchic
politics (thanks to Citizens United) and the shortsighted ideological
extremism of small-dollar donors, this new ruling on party campaign spending
offers hope that the old parties can again guide campaigns and elections onto a
better path. The old machines, once so despised, look better now that Americans
have experienced the alternatives.
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