So if Democrats win the 2026 midterms, could he be impeached again, and could he actually be removed from office?

The answer to those two questions is different.

First, impeachment does not mean removal

The Constitution gives the House of Representatives the power to impeach a president.

Think of impeachment as bringing formal charges. If a majority of the House votes to approve articles of impeachment, the president is impeached.

But the president does not automatically leave office.

The case then moves to the Senate, which holds a trial. Conviction requires two thirds of the senators present.

If all 100 senators participate, 67 would have to vote to convict for the president to be removed.

Why the 2026 midterms matter

Right now, Republicans control the House.

But every one of the 435 voting House seats is up for election in November.

If Democrats win enough seats to take control of the House, they would have the numbers to impeach Trump if a majority of House members voted to do so.

The Senate is different.

There are 100 senators, but they serve six year terms, so the entire Senate is not elected at once.

There are 35 Senate seats up for election in 2026.

The Senate currently has 53 Republicans, 45 Democrats and two independents who caucus with Democrats.

That balance could change after the midterms.

But the math matters.

Even controlling the Senate would not necessarily give Democrats enough votes to remove Trump. If all 100 senators participated in an impeachment trial, conviction would require 67 votes.

We have seen this process twice before

Trump’s first impeachment came in 2019.

The House impeached him on two articles: abuse of power involving his dealings with Ukraine and obstruction of Congress during the congressional investigation.

The Senate acquitted him on both.

Trump was impeached again in 2021.

This time, the House charged him with incitement of insurrection after a crowd of his supporters stormed the U.S. Capitol on January 6 as Congress was counting the electoral votes from the 2020 election.

When the case reached the Senate, 57 senators voted to convict Trump and 43 voted not guilty.

Seven Republicans joined Democrats and independents in voting to convict.

But 57 was still short of the two thirds majority required, so Trump was acquitted.

So what happens if Democrats win?

Winning the House could give Democrats the votes needed to impeac

That may sound confusing. But this story is really about two separate questions: Does the White House need a larger event space? And what approval is required to build one?

Why build a White House ballroom?

The White House has rooms for dinners, ceremonies and official events, but it has never had a large, dedicated ballroom.

Its largest space is the East Room, which seats about 200 people. When presidents host larger events, temporary tents may be placed outside on the White House grounds.

The new ballroom is designed to seat approximately 650 guests. The project also includes an underground military facility with security and emergency-response features.

The administration says the ballroom and underground facility are connected parts of one construction project. It has also presented the new space as something future presidents will be able to use for state dinners and other major events.

Have presidents changed the White House before?

Yes. The White House we recognize today was shaped by multiple presidents.

In 1902, Theodore Roosevelt oversaw the creation of the East and West Wings. Congress authorized and funded that work.

During World War II, Franklin Roosevelt expanded the East Wing and added an underground emergency facility. Historical records indicate that federal defense funding was likely used, and the plans received architectural review.

Harry Truman later supervised the largest rebuilding in White House history. By the late 1940s, the building had become structurally unsafe. Everything inside was removed and rebuilt while most of the exterior walls remained standing. Congress funded the work and created a commission to oversee it.

A historical review submitted in the current ballroom litigation identified two smaller projects without clear congressional authorization: Gerald Ford’s privately funded outdoor pool and the tennis pavilion built during Trump’s first term. Both projects still received architectural review.

What is the legal question?

Federal law says that a new building or structure generally cannot be constructed on federal property in Washington, D.C., without express authority from Congress.

The National Trust for Historic Preservation sued the federal government after the East Wing was demolished and ballroom construction began. The organization says a project this large required congressional authorization and additional review.

The administration says existing presidential authority covers the project. It also says stopping construction could interfere with the connected underground military facility and create national-security and construction risks.

Lower courts temporarily restricted above-ground construction while allowing underground security work to continue.

What did the Supreme Court decide?

On August 31, 2026, the Supreme Court allowed the entire project to continue while the case proceeds.

But the Court did not decide whether the ballroom itself is legal.

The majority said the National Trust probably lacked standing. Standing simply means having the legal right to bring a particular lawsuit. The organization relied on a member who said the ballroom would harm her ability to view and appreciate the White House’s historic architecture.

The majority concluded that disliking the appearance of the finished building probably was not a concrete enough personal injury to support the lawsuit.

Chief Justice John Roberts and three other justices disagreed. They believed the member’s professional and personal connection to historic preservation was enough to establish standing. Roberts also wrote that the project was likely unlawful without express authorization from Congress.

That made the decision 5 to 4.

What happens now?

Construction can continue while the administration prepares its full appeal and the underlying lawsuit moves forward.

The practical case for a larger White House event space remains part of the story. So do the historical examples of presidents renovating and expanding the building.

The unresolved issue is whether the existing laws and funding authority cover a project of this size.

For now, the ballroom is moving forward while the legal case continues.

That fear eventually collided with one of America’s most basic freedoms: speech.

Dennis v. United States, decided in 1951, asked a difficult question: when the country believes it is under threat, how much power should the government have to restrict what people say?

What happened?

Eleven leaders of the Communist Party USA were prosecuted under the Smith Act, a federal law that prohibited organizing a group that advocated overthrowing the U.S. government by force or violence.

The government accused the defendants of organizing the Communist Party, recruiting members, publishing materials, and teaching that the government should eventually be overthrown by force.

But there was an important distinction: the case wasn’t about the defendants being caught in the middle of an attempted overthrow.

It was about organizing and advocating ideas the government believed could ultimately lead there.

What did the Supreme Court decide?

In a 6–2 decision, the Court concluded that the First Amendment did not require the government to wait until an attempted overthrow was immediately about to happen before acting.

Chief Justice Fred Vinson’s opinion treated the seriousness of the potential harm as an important part of deciding when the government could intervene.

That gave the federal government significant room to prosecute Communist Party activity it considered dangerous.

And the consequences were very real. Most of the defendants received five-year prison sentences and $10,000 fines.

Why is Dennis considered one of America’s hard lessons?

Because the case shows what can happen when national security and individual liberty collide.

The country had serious national security concerns during the Cold War. But the case also raised a much larger constitutional question: how early should the government be allowed to step in when dangerous ideas have not yet turned into immediate action?

Even the Court itself was divided over that question.

Justice Hugo Black argued in dissent that the convictions violated the First Amendment. Justice William O. Douglas also dissented, warning about the danger of suppressing ideas the government considered threatening.

America eventually changed course

Dennis did not become the final word on political speech.

In later cases, the Supreme Court moved toward greater protection for advocacy. The biggest shift came with Brandenburg v. Ohio in 1969.

Under the standard established there, simply advocating illegal action generally isn’t enough. The speech must be directed toward producing imminent lawless action and be likely to actually produce it.

That’s a much higher bar for the government than the approach accepted in Dennis.

Why it matters?

The specific fear surrounding Dennis was communism. But the larger question reaches well beyond the Cold War.

Americans still wrestle with where the line belongs when speech, public safety, and national security run into each other.

When America feels threatened, how much power should the government have to restrict speech in the name of protecting the country?

Dennis v. United States reminds us that the rules governing our freedoms are often tested hardest when the country is afraid.

Because every law has a history. And some of the biggest changes in America started with one person willing to challenge it.

Sources

• Supreme Court of the United States, Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494 (1951)
• Supreme Court of the United States, Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444 (1969)
• U.S. Supreme Court Reports
• Library of Congress, historical Supreme Court records

And this one showed what can happen when the Supreme Court makes a ruling, but the government doesn’t follow through.

Worcester v. Georgia, decided in 1832, is one of America’s Hard Lessons.

What happened?

Georgia wanted more control over Cherokee lands and passed laws extending state authority into Cherokee territory.

Samuel Worcester was a missionary living there.

Georgia said he needed a state license.

He refused, was arrested, convicted and sent to prison.

So Worcester took his case to the Supreme Court.

Why did the Court rule the way it did?

In a 5 to 1 decision, the Supreme Court sided with Worcester.

Chief Justice John Marshall wrote the majority opinion, saying the Cherokee Nation was a distinct political community and Georgia’s laws had no force within Cherokee territory.

In simple terms, Georgia couldn’t just walk into Cherokee territory and make its laws apply there.

Who gained or lost power?

The ruling limited Georgia’s power and recognized important protections for Cherokee sovereignty.

At least on paper.

How did America respond?

The ruling didn’t stop Indian removal.

The federal government continued its removal policy, and thousands of Cherokee were eventually forced west on what became known as the Trail of Tears.

What still affects us today?

Worcester helped establish an important principle that still matters in federal Indian law: states have limited authority over tribal nations and their lands.

But the harder lesson was what happened next.

The Supreme Court ruled that Georgia’s laws had no force in Cherokee territory.

But the ruling did not stop Indian removal, and thousands of Cherokee were eventually forced west.

Sources

• U.S. Supreme Court, Worcester v. Georgia, 31 U.S. 515 (1832)
• Library of Congress, Worcester v. Georgia, United States Reports
• National Archives, Andrew Jackson’s Message to Congress on Indian Removal, 1830
• National Archives, Cherokee and Native American Removal Rolls

Families may look at health history, education, family background and other information before making a choice. But what happens if some of the information they relied on wasn’t true?

What happened?

Wendy and Janet Norman purchased sperm from Georgia based sperm bank Xytex and chose a donor identified as Donor #9623.

According to their lawsuit, the donor’s profile represented that he had an IQ of 160, multiple college degrees, was working toward a Ph.D., had a clean mental health history and had no criminal background.

The Normans alleged they later learned a very different story.

Their lawsuit said the donor had been hospitalized for mental health treatment, had been diagnosed with serious mental health conditions and did not have the educational background represented when he began donating.

The couple sued Xytex, bringing claims that included fraud and negligent misrepresentation.

There was just one major legal problem.

What did the court decide?

Georgia courts had already established that a person cannot recover damages based on the idea that a child’s life itself is an injury.

That put the Normans’ case in complicated territory.

Xytex argued that many of their claims were essentially another version of that prohibited type of lawsuit.

But the Georgia Supreme Court saw an important distinction.

In 2020, the court ruled that claims treating the child’s existence itself as the injury were still barred.

But that did not automatically eliminate claims involving specific impairments allegedly caused or made worse by wrongdoing. And it did not eliminate claims that essentially amounted to ordinary consumer fraud.

In other words, the fact that the purchase involved donor sperm did not automatically make ordinary fraud law disappear.

The court sent the case back for further proceedings.

Why Norman v. Xytex matters

This is what makes the case so interesting.

Buying donor sperm is obviously nothing like buying an ordinary product. The decision can affect a family for generations.

But the case raised a surprisingly familiar consumer question:

If a company gives you information to help you make a purchase, what happens when you allege that information was false and you relied on it?

Norman v. Xytex helped draw a line in Georgia law.

A family cannot claim that the existence of their child is itself the legal injury.

But companies involved in reproductive services are not necessarily shielded from ordinary claims of fraud simply because a child was ultimately born.

Because every law has a history. And some of the biggest changes in America started with one person willing to challenge it.

Sources

• Supreme Court of Georgia, Norman et al. v. Xytex Corporation et al., 310 Ga. 127, decided September 28, 2020.
• Georgia Court of Appeals, Norman et al. v. Xytex Corporation et al., 350 Ga. App. 731, decided June 21, 2019.
• Georgia Court of Appeals, A.D.A., et al. v. Xytex Corporation et al., 2026, discussing later claims involving Xytex and applying the Norman decision.

Then your city tells you it wants your property.

Not because it needs to build a highway, school, or public park. It wants the land as part of a larger redevelopment project designed to bring new businesses, jobs, and tax revenue to the area.

Can the government do that?

What happened?

In the late 1990s, New London, Connecticut, was struggling economically.

The city approved a large redevelopment plan intended to create jobs, increase tax revenue, and revitalize the area.

Most property owners in the development area agreed to sell.

Some did not.

Among them was Susette Kelo, who owned a small home in the Fort Trumbull neighborhood.

When Kelo and several other property owners refused to sell, the city began condemnation proceedings to acquire their properties through eminent domain.

Eminent domain is the government’s power to take private property for public use as long as the owner receives just compensation.

Kelo sued.

Her argument was simple: taking her property as part of a plan that would eventually put some of the land in private hands did not qualify as the “public use” required by the Fifth Amendment.

That disagreement eventually made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

What did the Supreme Court decide?

On June 23, 2005, the Supreme Court ruled 5–4 in favor of New London.

The Court said the city’s redevelopment plan served a broader public purpose because it was intended to create economic benefits for the community.

That meant economic development could qualify as a public use under the Fifth Amendment, even though some of the property would ultimately be used by private parties.

The decision did not say the government can simply take your house and give it to another person because that person might make better use of it.

The key was that New London’s takings were part of a larger, integrated economic development plan intended to serve a public purpose.

Why was Kelo so important?

Kelo expanded many Americans’ understanding of what “public use” can mean.

Think of eminent domain and you might picture the government buying property to build a highway, school, courthouse, or park.

Kelo showed that the definition can be broader.

Under the federal Constitution, a carefully planned economic redevelopment project can also qualify.

And that made the case especially important for homeowners, business owners, and anyone who owns land.

What happened after Kelo?

The Supreme Court’s decision did not prevent states from giving property owners stronger protections.

And many did.

A 2006 Government Accountability Office review found that 29 states changed their eminent domain laws in just the first year after the decision. Later congressional research documented even more state action.

Those changes varied. Some states restricted when eminent domain could be used for economic development. Others changed procedures or tightened definitions used in eminent domain cases.

That means Kelo established the federal constitutional baseline, but your actual protections may be stronger depending on the laws and constitution of your state.

How does Kelo v. City of New London affect you today?

This is why Kelo still matters.

Eminent domain isn’t necessarily limited to building a highway through your property.

A local government may also have authority to acquire property as part of a larger redevelopment plan intended to benefit the community.

But exactly how far that power reaches can depend heavily on where you live.

So if you own a home, business, or land, your property rights aren’t determined by the Fifth Amendment alone. State constitutions and state eminent domain laws can provide additional protections.

Kelo v. City of New London helped establish where the federal constitutional line sits.

The states helped decide what happened after it.

Because every law has a history. And some of the biggest changes in America started with one person willing to challenge it.

Sources

Supreme Court of the United States — Kelo et al. v. City of New London et al., 545 U.S. 469 (2005)

Congress.gov, Constitution Annotated — Public Use and Takings Clause

U.S. Government Accountability Office — Eminent Domain: Information about Its Uses and Effect on Property Owners and Communities Is Limited, GAO-07-28

U.S. House of Representatives, Committee on the Judiciary — Private Property Rights Protection Act, House Report 113-357

That question reached the U.S. Supreme Court in Texas v. Johnson, a 1989 case that became one of the country’s most important decisions on free speech and the First Amendment.

What happened in Texas v. Johnson?

In 1984, Gregory Lee Johnson participated in a political protest during the Republican National Convention in Dallas, Texas.

At the end of the protest, Johnson burned an American flag outside Dallas City Hall.

No one was physically injured, but several people who witnessed the flag burning said they were seriously offended.

Texas had a law making it a crime to desecrate certain respected objects, including the American flag. Johnson was arrested, convicted, sentenced to one year in jail and fined $2,000.

He challenged his conviction, arguing that burning the flag during a political protest was a form of expression protected by the First Amendment.

What did the Supreme Court decide?

The Supreme Court agreed with Johnson in a 5–4 decision.

The Court determined that Johnson’s flag burning was expressive conduct. In other words, even though he wasn’t simply standing there giving a speech, his actions were clearly communicating a political message.

Because of that, the First Amendment applied.

The government could not punish Johnson simply because people found his message offensive.

Why did Texas v. Johnson matter?

Texas v. Johnson reinforced something important about free speech in America: the First Amendment doesn’t only protect ideas that are popular, comfortable or respectful.

It can also protect expression that makes people angry or uncomfortable.

And speech doesn’t always require words.

An action can sometimes communicate a message clearly enough to receive First Amendment protection.

How does Texas v. Johnson affect us today?

You can see that principle in modern debates over protests and symbolic expression.

Signs, clothing, kneeling and other symbolic acts can sometimes be forms of expression protected by the First Amendment.

That doesn’t mean every action taken during a protest is automatically protected. Laws can still apply depending on what someone does and the circumstances.

But Texas v. Johnson established an important line: the government generally cannot prohibit political expression simply because the message itself is offensive.

More than three decades later, the case remains a powerful example of just how far America’s protection of free expression can reach.

Because every law has a history. And some of the biggest changes in America started with one person willing to challenge it.

Sources

• U.S. Supreme Court, Texas v. Johnson, 491 U.S. 397 (1989)
• U.S. Constitution, First Amendment
• Supreme Court of the United States, Texas v. Johnson majority opinion, Justice William J. Brennan Jr.
• Texas Penal Code § 42.09, Desecration of Venerated Object, as applied in Johnson’s case
• Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, Johnson v. State, 755 S.W.2d 92 (Tex. Crim. App. 1988)

No, no they can’t.

What happened?

If you have an iPhone, you know the App Store.

Apple operates it, but independent developers create most of the apps and generally set their prices.

At the time of the case, Apple collected a 30% commission on paid app sales. Customers paid Apple directly, and Apple then paid the developer their share.

Four iPhone owners sued Apple, saying its control over the App Store allowed it to charge consumers more than they would pay in a competitive marketplace.

Apple said the customers shouldn’t be able to sue because developers, not Apple, set the app prices.

So the case came down to a surprisingly simple question: Who are you actually buying the app from?

What did the Supreme Court decide?

In a 5–4 decision, the Supreme Court said the iPhone owners could sue Apple.

Why?

Because they bought their apps directly from Apple.

But there’s an important distinction: the Supreme Court did not decide that Apple actually violated antitrust law.

It decided that these customers had the legal right to bring their case and try to prove it.

Why did Apple v. Pepper matter?

It made one thing clear: companies that run digital marketplaces can still be sued by customers who buy directly from them.

That matters in a world where so much of what we buy now comes through apps and online marketplaces.

How does Apple v. Pepper affect us today?

The case wasn’t just about a few dollars spent in the App Store.

It was about who consumers can hold responsible when a company controls the marketplace where they shop.

If you buy directly from an online marketplace, you may be able to sue that company if you believe its practices are illegally raising what you pay.

And as more of our shopping moves online, that question has become a lot bigger than apps.

Because every law has a history. And some of the biggest changes in America started with one person willing to challenge it.

Sources

Supreme Court of the United States, Apple Inc. v. Pepper, 587 U.S. 273 (2019), opinion and syllabus.

U.S. Department of Justice, Antitrust Division, Apple Inc. v. Robert Pepper, et al., case materials and amicus briefs.

Absolutely. But four of them use a slightly different name.

Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Kentucky officially call themselves commonwealths.

So what does that actually mean, and are they any different from the other 46 states?

What is a commonwealth?

The word “commonwealth” generally describes a political community organized for the common good.

Its use in America goes back to the country’s early history, when the term emphasized the idea that government existed for the benefit of the people rather than a king or other ruling authority.

Virginia and Pennsylvania began using the term in 1776. Massachusetts included “commonwealth” in its 1780 constitution. Kentucky continued the tradition when it separated from Virginia and became a state in 1792.

Which states are commonwealths?

There are four:

Massachusetts

Pennsylvania

Virginia

Kentucky

Despite the different name, all four are full U.S. states.

Do commonwealth states operate differently?

No. And this is probably the most important part.

Calling a state a commonwealth does not give it additional powers, different representation in Congress or a special constitutional relationship with the federal government.

Pennsylvania’s government specifically explains that there is no legal distinction between a state and a commonwealth. Virginia law also uses “Commonwealth” and “state” to refer to Virginia.

In other words, Kentucky is not a different category of state because it is officially the Commonwealth of Kentucky.

It is still one of the 50 states.

But what about Puerto Rico?

This is where the word can get confusing.

Puerto Rico is also commonly called a commonwealth, and the Northern Mariana Islands officially has “Commonwealth” in its name.

But they are not states.

They are U.S. territories, so the word “commonwealth” in that context does not mean the same thing as when Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Virginia or Kentucky uses it.

That is why simply hearing the word “commonwealth” does not tell you a place’s legal status within the United States.

The takeaway

America has 50 states.

Four simply carry an old word in their official names that reflects part of America’s political history.

Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Kentucky may call themselves commonwealths, but legally, they are states just like the other 46.

Sources

Massachusetts Government – Why is Massachusetts a Commonwealth?

Commonwealth of Pennsylvania – The Pennsylvania Manual

Virginia Legislative Information System – Code of Virginia

U.S. Census Bureau, official state and territory listings

Welcome to U.S. territories.

We hear all the time that the United States has 50 states. And it does. But that’s not the whole picture.

The U.S. also has five major permanently inhabited territories:

• Puerto Rico
• Guam
• U.S. Virgin Islands
• American Samoa
• Northern Mariana Islands

These places are part of the United States, but they are not states. And that distinction changes how their governments work and how their residents are represented in Washington.

So what exactly is a territory?

The Constitution gives Congress broad authority over U.S. territories through Article IV’s Territory Clause.

That means the relationship is different from the one between Washington and the 50 states.

At the same time, the territories have their own local governments. They have governors, legislatures and court systems, and they handle many of the everyday responsibilities we normally associate with state and local government.

So there is local control but Congress still holds broad authority over the territories.

Are people who live there U.S. citizens?

In most cases, yes.

People born in Puerto Rico, Guam, the U.S. Virgin Islands and the Northern Mariana Islands generally receive U.S. citizenship at birth under federal law.

American Samoa is the big exception. People born there are generally U.S. nationals rather than U.S. citizens at birth.

A U.S. national still has a legal connection to the United States and can hold a U.S. passport, but nationality and citizenship are not exactly the same thing.

Can residents vote for president?

Here’s one of the biggest differences.

Residents of U.S. territories do not vote for president in the general election while residing in the territories.

The territories also do not have voting representation in Congress equivalent to the states. Each inhabited territory has a delegate or resident commissioner in the U.S. House who can participate in congressional work, including committees, but cannot vote on final passage on the House floor.

So someone can be an American citizen, live on American soil and still have a very different relationship with the federal government depending on whether they live in a state or a territory.

So are U.S. territories part of America?

Yes.

They are under U.S. sovereignty, their residents live under U.S. and local laws, and they have their own governments.

But they do not have the same constitutional and political status as states.

And that’s the key to understanding U.S. territories:

They’re part of America. They’re just not states.

Sources

• U.S. Constitution — Article IV, Section 3
• Congressional Research Service — U.S. Territories
• U.S. Department of the Interior — American Samoa
• USA.gov — Visiting U.S. Territories