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Federal attempts to overturn the ruling by amending the US Constitution or legislating against corporate spending have repeatedly failed. But now several states are experimenting with new ways to get this flood of corporate money out of politics.
More than 15 years ago, the Supreme Court removed limits on corporate political spending in its notorious Citizens United decision, ushering in an era of unprecedented influence by moneyed interests.
As a result, a small group of ultra-wealthy donors have skewed the political system to their advantage—and today, social scientists link the growing gap between rich and poor to that seminal 2010 decision.
Federal attempts to overturn the ruling by amending the US Constitution or legislating against corporate spending have repeatedly failed. But now several states are experimenting with new ways to get this flood of corporate money out of politics.
The state of Hawaii just passed a first-of-its-kind law redefining corporations as entities that aren’t allowed to spend money in elections anywhere within the state. The effort could kick off a powerful state-by-state pushback that succeeds where federal efforts failed.
Curtailing corporate influence on the political system is essential at a time when corporations are thriving while ordinary Americans struggle to make ends meet.
This simple idea is the brainchild of Tom Moore, senior fellow for democracy policy at the Center for American Progress. “It’s not regulation; it’s redefinition,” Moore told me. “States create corporations, and they give powers to all the corporations that operate within their states.”
So if the federal government and the Supreme Court enable corporations to influence elections, states can counter that merely by changing the definition of a corporation. And that’s precisely what Hawaii did. Effective starting July 2027, corporations doing business in the state are redefined to “not include the power to spend money or contribute anything of value to influence elections or ballot measures.”
The novel approach is well-protected against legal challenges. Moore explained, “The Supreme Court has said consistently for 200 years that [the power to define corporations] is a matter of state law, that the federal courts don’t have anything to do with that.”
The impact of this on Hawaii’s politics are likely to be monumental. “Basically, in Hawaii politics, local, state, and federal, every dollar that’s spent will be from an individual human being,” said Moore. “It’ll be disclosed, it’ll be voluntary. And that is a gigantic difference from what we have right now.”
Hawaii’s law doesn’t overturn Citizens United—it makes the 2010 ruling meaningless within its borders.
Residents of Montana are pushing a similar effort. Activists there are gathering signatures to place a measure on the November ballot to similarly redefine corporations so they can’t spend money in elections. If the measure passes, it will go into effect in January 2027, six months before Hawaii’s law takes effect.
In fact, according to Moore, Hawaii’s legislators borrowed the language for their bill from Montana’s ballot measure and sped it through their legislative process, pleasantly surprising advocates. Moore is confident the Montana effort will succeed. “They’re in very, very good shape, they’re incredibly well-organized,” he said.
At least 14 states, including New York and California, are currently considering similar bills, and Hawaii’s new law prompted interested lawmakers from two other states to contact Moore. “We’ve had outreach from folks in almost every state,” he said. Given the fact that it’s been less than a year since Moore first published his idea, the speed at which it’s caught on has been remarkable.
Curtailing corporate influence on the political system is essential at a time when corporations are thriving while ordinary Americans struggle to make ends meet. “At the end of the day, corporations don’t actually work for their shareholders, they work for us because we create them through our legislatures, through our laws,” said Moore.
“And if corporations are doing something in our state that we don’t like, we have the power as citizens and working through our legislators to do something about that."
A new poll finds that large majorities of voters believe corruption is a big problem across politics and government and back bold reform.
I’ve written that corruption is the sleeper issue of 2026. Well, it’s awake. And the issue may be bigger than I realized.
That’s the implication of a new national poll released Tuesday by the Brennan Center. The survey was conducted in late April and early May, just before the president’s attempt to create a $1.8 billion slush fund to funnel taxpayer money to his political allies.
The results are striking. More than 9 in 10 voters believe corruption is a big problem across politics and government. Large majorities view corruption as endemic and deeply embedded in government institutions, from the Supreme Court to Congress to the presidency. They are dejected about the fact that scandals continuously go without consequences and shocking revelations fail to produce reform.
Margins are overwhelming among Democrats, Republicans, and independents.
Vast majorities believe this corruption is part of why government doesn’t respond to major issues, including concerns like affordability and housing.
Most importantly, voters back bold reform. Eighty-three percent want a law that bars presidents from having conflicts of interest and holds them to stronger ethical standards. Eighty-one percent want a new federal ethics enforcer. Seventy-nine percent want a constitutional amendment that restores limits on money in elections, and other anti-corruption measures received similar levels of support.
It’s hard to find a set of proposals with a wider bipartisan appeal.
Yet there are notes here that should jar complacency. Listen carefully to voters. They define corruption broadly. Vast majorities see the spectacle of politicians catering to the interests of billionaires and big corporations as corrupt, not surprisingly. But to most Americans, wasting taxpayer dollars and even failing to respond to constituent needs are also forms of corruption.
Vast majorities believe this corruption is part of why government doesn’t respond to major issues, including concerns like affordability and housing. How do we connect these arcane government rules to people’s economic well-being? Voters are already doing so.
There are warning signs aplenty for politicians from both parties. Other polls have shown that voters think neither Democratic nor Republican politicians are better than the other on the issue.
Policymakers should understand that the public’s conception of what has gone wrong goes far deeper than super PACs or White House ballrooms or even slush funds. To them, it is a system that is fundamentally misfiring. A government that is not performing. And there is a willingness to name names and assign blame.
In some ways, these results are ominous. We often note that the 2024 election was the first time since the 1800s where the incumbent party lost the White House three times in a row (2016, 2020, 2024). This survey shows a deeply disquieted electorate, scornful of the political system and furious at its flaws. That environment created the conditions for President Donald Trump’s populist nationalism to emerge in 2016. It hasn’t gone away.
Yet this is also the kindling that can fuel new approaches, sharper critiques, and stronger solutions. If polls are to be believed, Sen. Jon Ossoff (D-Ga.) has turned his political fortunes through a relentless and often stirring stump-speech focus on corruption.
The breadth of public unhappiness suggests a deeper moral critique. Even now, amid wrenching technological change and evaporating standards, people seem focused on an underlying core of personal responsibility.
My old boss, President Bill Clinton, often talked this way, especially when he was running for president in 1992. “The American dream that we were all raised on is a simple but powerful one,” he would say. “If you work hard and play by the rules, you should be given a chance to go as far as your God-given ability will take you.”
More recently, that ethos was given voice in Hungary by its new president, Péter Magyar. Running against the authoritarian kleptocrat Viktor Orbán, Magyar vowed that Hungary would no longer be “a country without consequences.” He pledged to oversee not just new policies but a thorough effort to clean house and to hold accountable those who had stolen from the people.
The new Brennan Center research suggests that voters here, too, are ready for a country with consequences. That will help shape the next political era—if we are ready to make it happen.
A lobby that asks for its community to have a voice is making a claim every American can make. A lobby that vows to end any candidacy which crosses its red line on Israel is not asking for a voice—it is enforcing obedience and silence.
As the American Israel Public Affairs Committee confronts a changing political landscape, one in which support for Israel has become a liability, powerful voices are coming to the defense of AIPAC and its hold on American democracy.
Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro is one such voice. He addressed the issue in an interview with Politico. Questioned whether the pro-Israel lobby had become a dividing line in the Democratic Party, Shapiro lamented what he described as the "weaponization" of criticism directed at AIPAC, saying it was being "used cynically by some to try and silence certain voices." Pressed on whether he meant critics were erasing the distinction between opposition to AIPAC and opposition to Jewish donors, he said yes. Shapiro is recasting the lobby's scorched-earth tactics against politicians who do not toe the line on Israel as an attack on Jews and their right to political participation. That framing makes criticism of AIPAC appear suspect before the substance of the criticism is addressed.
He is not alone. Sen. Elissa Slotkin (D-Mich.), confronted at a town hall over $4.5 million she had taken from "pro-Israel lobbies," objected that the figure lumped ordinary Jewish donors in with the lobby. This was problematic, she said, "Not just as an elected official," but "as a Jew." In The Washington Post, the columnist Matthew Schmitz gathered statements like these into a thesis: that criticism of Israel has curdled into hostility toward Jews themselves, and that the Democratic Party is turning on a community that has been part of its coalition for a century.
Although a problematic charge, it is deserving of a serious answer. The charge conflates criticizing a political lobby with attacking the Jewish people. This conflation is convenient for the defenders of AIPAC. To see why, start with what AIPAC does.
The existence of antisemitism does not make AIPAC immune from criticism, any more than the existence of anti-Muslim bigotry would make Saudi lobbying immune from scrutiny.
AIPAC does not have to single-handedly decide an election to shape its outcome. Its power lies in changing the conditions under which the election is fought. The organization describes itself as working to "help elect Democrats and Republicans" who support the US-Israel relationship and to "defeat detractors" of that relationship. Its formal PAC gives directly to candidates, while its affiliated super PAC, United Democracy Project, can raise and spend unlimited sums through independent expenditures. In the 2024 cycle, AIPAC and United Democracy Project spent $95.1 million, more than double their 2022 spending. United Democracy Project spent almost $9.9 million to defeat Jamaal Bowman and nearly $4.8 million to install George Latimer in his place, a level of outside money The New York Times called unprecedented for a single House race. It spent more than $5.2 million against Cori Bush and another $3.3 million for Wesley Bell, who beat her.
By 2026 the same machinery had crossed party lines, and this time it left no doubt about what it was for. In May, Kentucky Republican Thomas Massie, a seven-term incumbent, lost his primary after pro-Israel groups spent roughly $9 million to defeat him, part of more than $32 million that made it the most expensive House primary in American history, surpassing the record set against Bowman two years before. AIPAC did not hide its hand. It congratulated the winner for "defeating anti-Israel incumbent Thomas Massie" and declared that "being pro-Israel is good policy and good politics." An organization whose stated mission is to silence dissent over Israel policy took a victory lap after defeating a dissenter. This is not representation but political enforcement.
That is the record the conflation obscures, because it points to a distinction Shapiro and Slotkin would rather we not draw. There is a difference between a lobby that advances an industry or community's interests and a lobby whose signature work is to destroy the people who dissent from it. The first is ordinary democracy; every group does it, and every group should be free to. The second is something else. A lobby that asks for its community to have a voice is making a claim every American can make. A lobby that vows to end any candidacy which crosses its red line on Israel is not asking for a voice—it is enforcing obedience and silence. AIPAC is the second kind, and no amount of talk about Jewish participation changes what its money does.
Here Slotkin's objection deserves a fair hearing, and then a harder look. She is right about one thing, and it matters: The $4.5 million figure she was confronted with came from a group that counts individual Jewish donors as lobby money. That is a crude metric, and her instinct to reject it is correct. Treating every Jewish donor as AIPAC is exactly the conflation worth refusing. However, she used the softness of that one number to wave away the entire subject, and the subject does not depend on that number. United Democracy Project's independent expenditures are not estimates pulled from a donor tally. They are filed with the Federal Election Commission. Nearly $10 million to defeat a single congressman is not a Jewish donor being smeared. It is a documented political operation, and in a democracy, it is fair game.
Slotkin then offered her own analogy, and it is more revealing than she intended. Plenty of groups do the same thing, she said—"a Pakistani-American group, or whatever group." Exactly so. And if a Pakistani-American group spent $95 million in a single cycle to end the careers of politicians who crossed it, that spending would be criticized too, loudly and by name—and no one would call the criticism anti-Pakistani bigotry. That is the tell. The objection to AIPAC was never that Jews organize, donate, or advocate; Americans of every background do, and should. The objection is to what this particular organization spends its money to accomplish. AIPAC is not being challenged because it is Jewish. It is being challenged because it uses organized money to enforce a narrow pro-Israel line in American politics. Strip away the identity framing and you are left with a plain question about political power—which is the question its defenders are working so hard to avoid.
The conflation cuts both ways, and the second cut is the dangerous one. Slotkin is right that lumping every Jewish donor into "the pro-Israel lobby" is crude and potentially ugly; Jewish donors are not AIPAC by definition. But the reverse move is just as serious, and it is the one AIPAC defenders rely on: treating any criticism of AIPAC's political spending as though it were an attack on Jewish identity itself. The first error mistakes ordinary Jews for the lobby. The second dresses the lobby up as ordinary Jews. That second move gives AIPAC an exemption no other lobby receives—it lets a bare-knuckle political operation spend like a political operation and then, the moment it is criticized, takes cover as a vulnerable civic organization.
The pro-AIPAC defense generally leans on ugly examples—candidates who have made reckless comments, activists who slide from criticism of Israel into something darker, a political culture where antisemitism plainly exists. None of that should be denied, and a thesis about an entire party should not be built on a handful of fringe figures either. But none of it answers the central question. The existence of antisemitism does not make AIPAC immune from criticism, any more than the existence of anti-Muslim bigotry would make Saudi lobbying immune from scrutiny.
Bigotry is real. So is political power. A serious argument must be able to recognize both at once. AIPAC is not merely participating in democracy; it is using concentrated money to discipline the boundaries of acceptable speech on Israel, while its defenders try to collapse that political critique into ethnic or religious hostility.