When Lawmakers Aren’t Allowed to Make Laws

In mid-July, a rare thing happened in Congress: two lawmakers from opposite political planets—Republican Thomas Massie of Kentucky and Democrat Ro Khanna of California—came together on a bill. And it wasn’t just any bill: their proposal would force the public release of sealed records related to Jeffrey Epstein’s network and criminal activities. It has broad bipartisan support (30 Democrat and 11 Republican cosponsors), would almost certainly pass in a floor vote, and represents the kind of transparency most Americans across the political spectrum say they want from their government.

So, naturally, the House Speaker responded by…calling summer recess early.

Republican Speaker Mike Johnson refused to bring the bill up for a vote and sent lawmakers home instead. In response, Massie and Khanna threatened a legislative maneuver called a discharge petition, a cumbersome and rarely used procedure that allows a majority of House members to bypass leadership and force a vote on the floor (the petition discharges the bill from committee and sends it directly to the House floor for a vote). But gathering 218 signatures for such a move after the recess—especially when going against one’s own party leadership—will be no simple task. It’s legislative mutiny, and the risk of political punishment is real.

This isn’t just a story about Epstein. It’s about how broken the legislative process really is—and how Congress as an institution has gradually stopped letting rank-and-file lawmakers legislate.

The Death of Regular Order

Once upon a time, congressional committees took the lead in writing bills. They held hearings, members offered amendments both in committee and on the floor, and coalitions came together across party lines. That process, often called “regular order,” wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it gave individual members a genuine role in shaping policy. Today, that process is mostly dead.

In its place, power has become intensely centralized in the hands of a few party leaders—especially the Speaker of the House. In the modern House, leadership now decides what gets written, when it gets voted on, and whether any amendments are allowed (which is hardly ever). Major bills, like the nearly 1,000-page “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” are crafted behind closed doors and then dropped on members’ desks with just hours to read them before a vote. Speakers of both parties routinely promise to restore a more open and member-driven process when they’re sworn in, but they quickly realize that regular order is louder, messier, and, most of all, more uncertain.

The top-down way of legislating isn’t just undemocratic; it’s disempowering. Lawmakers elected to write laws are mostly left waiting to be told what’s in them and then ordered by their party’s leadership to vote for them. The result is that the institution—and the American people—suffers.

Why This Hurts

When the legislative process becomes centralized and opaque, it sets off a cascade of harmful incentives. First, members of Congress stop investing in policymaking. Why spend time researching an issue, building coalitions, or drafting legislation when you know leadership won’t let it see the light of day? Why hire policy staff when communications staff are what get you airtime and campaign donations?

Over time, this has led to a kind of learned helplessness in the House. Most lawmakers simply don’t know what it means to legislate anymore because they’ve never had to. Committees are weaker, floor debates are shorter, and legislative muscle has atrophied.

Second, when members are sidelined from actual legislating, they fill the void with messaging. That means more viral videos, more partisan grandstanding, and more performative outrage, all aimed at building a brand—and directly hindering their ability to actually pass a law.

Third, the lack of real legislating means members have less incentive to build working relationships with colleagues from the other party. If you don’t need someone’s vote, why bother forging a compromise? Why not just attack them on social media instead? That’s how you get rewarded in today’s Congress and media environment.

And finally, good, popular, bipartisan ideas die quietly behind closed doors. Not because they wouldn’t pass, but because they’re politically inconvenient. Bills on immigration reform, gun safety, and banning congressional stock trading—each with broad support—languish because leadership doesn’t want to expose internal divisions or give the other party a win. That’s not representation. It’s strategic silence orchestrated from the top down.

The Epstein Files Are Just the Latest Example

The Epstein records bill is a perfect case study. It has broad bipartisan appeal, speaks directly to public demands for transparency, and is sponsored by two lawmakers who agree on almost nothing else. In a functional Congress, this bill would already be law. But because it wasn’t sanctioned by party leadership, it hasn’t even received a vote.

That’s why Massie and Khanna are now threatening to use a discharge petition, one of the few tools rank-and-file members have to force a vote when leadership refuses. The petition requires 218 signatures, a majority of the House. Sounds simple, but history says it’s a long shot. Signing one means publicly defying your own party’s leadership—a move that can cost lawmakers their committee assignments, endorsements, or campaign help.

And that’s the point. The House rules are written to consolidate leadership control, enforce party discipline, and discourage independent action—even when a clear majority supports the underlying idea.

When Congress Complains About Congress

Every so often, members of Congress go on cable news to complain that the place doesn’t work. They say they can’t get votes on their bills, that the loudest voices dominate, and that the minority party is completely shut out. They’re not wrong. But it’s worth remembering: they made the rules. The U.S. Constitution explicitly gives each chamber the power to set its own procedures.

And nothing in that constitution says the Speaker has to be this powerful. Back when the role was created, the Speakership was thought of as an administrative position meant to help the House run smoothly, not dictate where it was headed. Over time, powerful speakers—the ones with their names on the House office buildings in DC—consolidated control. When they went too far, rank-and-file members pushed back and rewrote the rules to decentralize power.

We’re at that kind of moment again. Maybe.

The good news is that Congress can fix this right now. There’s nothing stopping the House from restoring committee authority, allowing open amendments, or giving bills with majority support a straight up-or-down vote. Lawmakers could make those changes today. They just have to be willing to challenge their own leadership—and, in doing so, risk disrupting the party unity that too often trumps good policy and functional government (pun intended).

But they haven’t, which tells you something. When lawmakers choose not to change the rules, it’s often because the current system protects and rewards them just enough. Being told what to do means never having to take responsibility for a tough vote. It means you can blame leadership when nothing happens and campaign on problems you never had to seriously try solving.

Given that setup, it’s no wonder Congress feels more like a performance stage than a lawmaking body.

Let Lawmakers Be Lawmakers

Massie and Khanna shouldn’t have to smash the glass on an obscure procedural escape hatch just to get a vote on a bill that both the public and a majority of lawmakers clearly support. But their effort exposes something much bigger: a system where most lawmakers aren’t allowed to do their jobs and where legislating often requires going around the very people who are supposed to lead.

If Congress really wants to function, its members know exactly what they need to do. They can change the rules. They can reward bipartisan effort and policy entrepreneurship. They can reclaim the process they’ve slowly given away. They can, quite literally, choose to be lawmakers again.

But until they do, don’t be surprised when the best ideas never get a vote—and the House keeps putting itself in recess while insisting it wants something different.

Casey Burgat is a former congressional staffer turned George Washington University professor and the author of the new book, We Hold These “Truths”: How to Spot the Myths that are Holding America Back.