Americans across the political spectrum agree on almost nothing anymore—but one idea keeps surviving the culture war unscathed: term limits for Congress.
Republicans want them. Democrats want them. Independents really want them.
Poll after poll shows overwhelming public support for limiting how long members of Congress can cling to power. And yet—after decades of elections, town halls, debates, and campaign promises—Congress still doesn’t have term limits.
This isn’t complicated. It’s not a constitutional mystery. It’s not a lack of public will.
It’s because Congress would have to vote itself out of a job, and that’s not how human nature—or Washington—works.
The Incumbency Scam Nobody Wants to Admit Exists
Voters love to complain about Congress as an institution while simultaneously reelecting the same people who make it dysfunctional. Incumbents win reelection more than 90 percent of the time. In the House, it’s often closer to 95 percent.
Why?
• Name recognition
• Fundraising advantages
• Gerrymandered districts
• Voter apathy
• “My guy is different” syndrome
Everyone agrees Congress is broken. Very few believe their representative is the problem.
So the system rolls on: decades-long careers, revolving doors with lobbyists, and lawmakers who entered Congress before the internet was a thing and now regulate artificial intelligence.
If you’re waiting for voters to suddenly become hyper-informed, disciplined, and willing to eject entrenched incumbents en masse—don’t hold your breath.
Why Congress Will Never Pass Term Limits
Expecting Congress to impose term limits on itself is like asking a casino to vote against gambling.
Term limits would:
• End political careers
• Cut off power networks
• Disrupt fundraising machines
• Reduce post-office lobbying opportunities
Every incentive in Washington points toward career preservation, not reform.
Yes, individual politicians will campaign on term limits. They’ll talk about it endlessly—until they arrive in Washington and realize the system rewards longevity, not restraint.
Then the talking point quietly disappears.
Enter the Convention of States
The Convention of States (COS) is not a protest movement. It’s not a think tank. It’s not a social media hashtag.
It’s a constitutional mechanism already written into Article V of the U.S. Constitution—one that bypasses Congress entirely.
Article V provides two ways to propose constitutional amendments:
- Congress proposes amendments (the only method used so far)
- The states call a convention to propose amendments
That second option exists for a reason: the Founders did not assume the federal government would reliably reform itself.
The Convention of States uses that pressure valve.
What the Convention of States Actually Proposes
Contrary to the panic posts you see online, the Convention of States is not a free-for-all rewrite of the Constitution.
The application is limited to three subjects:
- Term limits for federal officials
- Fiscal restraints on the federal government
- Limits on the power and jurisdiction of the federal government
That’s it.
Delegates are bound by their state legislatures. Any proposed amendment must still be ratified by 38 states. There is no legal shortcut, no mob rule, and no rogue convention rewriting the Bill of Rights.
The process is deliberately difficult—because changing the Constitution should be.
“Runaway Convention” Fear: The Boogeyman That Won’t Die
Opponents of COS love one argument above all others: the fear of a “runaway convention.”
It sounds terrifying—until you actually understand the process.
Here’s what usually gets left out:
• Delegates are appointed and controlled by states
• States can recall or replace delegates
• Amendments outside the approved scope are invalid
• Ratification by 38 states is still required
Nothing becomes law without overwhelming national consensus.
If you trust Congress—with approval ratings hovering near single digits—to propose amendments responsibly, but fear state legislatures doing the same thing under stricter constraints, that’s not logic. That’s selective paranoia.
Term Limits Aren’t Radical—They’re Normal
Term limits already exist:
• For the President
• For governors in many states
• For state legislators across the country
The idea that Congress should remain exempt from the same accountability is absurd.
Career politicians don’t become wise philosopher-kings over time. They become:
• More entrenched
• More risk-averse
• More dependent on donors
• More disconnected from the public
Washington wasn’t designed to be a lifetime appointment. It became one because no one stopped it.
The Real Reason the Convention of States Terrifies Washington
The Convention of States represents something Washington fears more than protests, tweets, or elections: loss of control.
Congress controls the legislative process.
Congress controls the amendment process.
Congress controls its own survival.
COS takes that control away and hands it back to the states—where it was always supposed to reside.
That’s why the opposition isn’t subtle. It’s loud, emotional, and often dishonest.
When career politicians suddenly claim to be worried about “protecting the Constitution,” it’s worth asking why they weren’t concerned while ignoring it for decades.
Voter Apathy Is Exactly Why This Exists
Critics argue voters should “just vote better.”
That sounds noble. It’s also unrealistic.
Low-information voting, partisan loyalty, and inertia are baked into human behavior. The Founders knew this. That’s why they built safeguards that didn’t rely on ideal citizens behaving perfectly forever.
The Convention of States is one of those safeguards.
It doesn’t require voters to become policy experts overnight.
It doesn’t require Congress to grow a conscience.
It requires state legislatures to act—which they are already doing.
The Bottom Line
If you support term limits but oppose the Convention of States, you’re advocating for a solution that depends on the very people who benefit from the problem.
Congress will never voluntarily limit itself.
Voters will never consistently punish incumbents.
COS exists because reality exists.
You don’t have to trust politicians to support it. You just have to understand human nature—and the Constitution that anticipated it.
Washington won’t fix Washington. That was never the plan.
Why Turnover Exists Everywhere Except Washington
One of the easiest ways to expose Congress as an outlier is to compare it to state and local government, where turnover happens regularly—even without term limits in many cases.
At the federal level, incumbency is effectively a force field. Members of the House routinely win reelection at rates exceeding 90 percent. Senators—despite statewide elections and higher visibility—also enjoy reelection rates far higher than what most Americans assume. Once you’re in, staying in is the default.
Now compare that to state legislatures, county commissions, city councils, and school boards. Turnover is meaningfully higher, even in states without formal term limits. Lawmakers come and go. Seats change hands. Political careers end—often quietly.
This isn’t because state and local politicians are more virtuous. It’s because the incentives are completely different.
The Incentive Gap: Why Washington Is Sticky and Everything Else Isn’t
1. Pay and benefits make permanence rational.
Members of Congress earn a six-figure salary with elite benefits, travel privileges, and staff support. At the state and local level, compensation often ranges from modest to borderline symbolic.
Many state legislators:
• Earn part-time salaries
• Maintain outside careers
• Receive limited benefits
• Do not qualify for lucrative pensions
Local officials frequently earn nothing at all, or stipends that barely cover gas.
When the job doesn’t financially trap you, it’s easier to leave.
2. Retirement and long-term security reward careerism.
Congressional pensions aren’t what they once were, but they still beat what most Americans—and most state legislators—will ever see.
Many state and local officials:
• Do not receive lifetime retirement
• Must meet stricter vesting requirements
• Receive benefits tied to normal public employee systems
In Washington, a relatively short congressional career can still translate into long-term security. That reality alone encourages careerism.
3. More power creates more “corruption gravity.”
Power attracts ambition. Concentrated power attracts corruption.
A city council member cannot reshape national policy, direct billions in spending, or influence global markets. A member of Congress can—and does.
Lower-level officials:
• Have narrower jurisdiction
• Control fewer resources
• Face fewer lobbyists
• Wield less regulatory authority
When the power is limited, the incentive to cling to office diminishes.
4. Proximity to voters changes behavior.
Local and state officials can’t disappear into gated communities and secure districts. They run into voters at grocery stores, school events, and town halls.
That proximity creates:
• Higher accountability
• Faster reputational consequences
• Less tolerance for long-term incompetence
In Washington, representatives often spend more time fundraising and networking than interacting with constituents. Physical distance becomes political insulation.
5. The “career path” culture is different.
At the local and state level, public service is often temporary, rotational, and treated like civic duty rather than identity.
In Congress, it’s a profession. Entire lives are built around staying elected. That cultural shift alone explains why turnover flatlines at the federal level.
Turnover Isn’t a Bug—It’s a Feature
Higher turnover at state and local levels doesn’t mean chaos. It means:
• New perspectives
• Reduced entrenchment
• Less institutional rot
The federal government lacks this self-correcting mechanism. Without term limits, longevity becomes the qualification, seniority becomes power, and stagnation becomes normal.
When defenders of the status quo argue term limits would “hurt experience,” they ignore the obvious: experience without accountability is how institutions decay.
Why This Strengthens the Case for a Convention of States
If turnover naturally occurs where incentives are limited, and stagnation dominates where incentives are concentrated, the conclusion is unavoidable:
Congress is structurally immune to reform from within.
COS doesn’t invent term limits. It restores a corrective force that already exists elsewhere.
Washington isn’t special because it’s wiser. It’s special because it’s protected—from voters, consequences, and change.
And that’s exactly why the Founders gave the states a way around it.
How 18th-Century Politicians Were Paid—and Why That Matters
Modern defenders of lifelong congressional careers often justify today’s compensation and benefits as “necessary to attract talent.” That argument collapses when you look at how America’s early leaders were actually paid—and what they expected from public office.
Congressional Pay in the Founding Era
When the First Congress convened in 1789, serving in government was not financially attractive.
Members of Congress were originally paid per diem, not a salary. The rate was $6 per day while Congress was in session, plus modest travel compensation. Respectable, yes—lucrative, no—especially considering long travel times, extended absences from home, and the reality that many members still had businesses or farms to run.
There were no pensions, no healthcare benefits, no staff empires, and no retirement packages waiting at the end of a term. When service ended, so did the pay.
Even modest changes to compensation sparked backlash, with voters viewing increases as self-dealing. That suspicion wasn’t accidental—it was cultural.
The Presidency Was Never Meant to Be Profitable
George Washington was paid $25,000 per year, an enormous sum for the time—but context matters.
He did not seek the office, did not campaign for it, and did not treat it as enrichment. He accepted compensation because the Constitution required it to deter corruption, not to create it.
Even then:
• He refused to accept gifts
• He personally covered many entertaining and travel expenses
• He left office wealthier in reputation, not finances
The office was considered a burden, not a stepping stone.
No Retirement, No Revolving Door
Founding-era officials did not expect:
• Lifetime pensions
• Post-office lobbying careers
• Speaking fees
• Book deals
• Media contracts
When service ended, they returned to private life.
The Founders feared a political class—a permanent ruling elite whose livelihood depended on holding office. Compensation was meant to enable service, not incentivize permanence.
What Changed—and Why It Broke the System
Today’s Congress operates on the opposite assumption:
• Office is a career
• Seniority equals authority
• Longevity is rewarded
Modern pay, benefits, pensions, and post-office opportunities turned public service into an investment strategy.
That’s not a moral judgment. It’s an incentive problem.
And incentive problems don’t resolve themselves.
Why This History Supports Term Limits
The Founders didn’t rely on noble intentions to preserve liberty. They relied on structure.
They assumed ambition would exist.
They assumed power would attract those who wanted it.
They assumed safeguards would be necessary.
COS isn’t a modern invention—it’s a constitutional pressure valve designed for the moment incentives drift too far from original intent.
Term limits don’t reject experience. They restore the expectation that government service ends.
That idea isn’t radical. It’s original.
“But Congress Is More Complex Now” — And That’s Exactly the Problem
One of the most common objections to term limits is that modern governance is “too complex” to rotate lawmakers out of office. Budgets are bigger, laws are longer, and issues are more technical—therefore, Congress needs long-serving experts.
That logic collapses under minimal scrutiny.
Complexity has not produced better outcomes. It has produced:
• Bloated legislation no one reads
• Agencies no one controls
• Regulations even Congress struggles to explain
If decades of experience were the cure, Washington would be functioning flawlessly by now.
Congress didn’t inherit complexity; it built it—sprawling codes, delegated authority, thousand-page bills passed under time pressure. That isn’t wisdom. It’s insulation.
Expertise already exists in staff, counsel, committees, inspectors general, and career civil servants. Term limits don’t erase knowledge; they rotate decision-makers while institutional expertise remains.
Complex systems without rotation produce groupthink, capture, and self-preservation. Fresh legislators are more likely to ask the questions insiders stopped asking years ago: “Why does this exist?” and “Who benefits?”
If the system only functions when the same people run it forever, the system—not the rotation—is the failure.
How Members of Congress Get Rich While in Office
Members of Congress like to present themselves as public servants making personal sacrifices. The numbers tell a different story.
A rank-and-file member earns $174,000 per year—already well above the national median income. But salary isn’t where the real money appears.
The wealth accumulation happens during service. That should raise questions.
Numerous public financial disclosures show a consistent pattern:
• Many members enter Congress with modest net worth
• They leave with assets worth millions
• This happens even among those who never held high-paying private-sector jobs
This is often legal. It’s also revealing.
Disclosures frequently show:
• Aggressive investment portfolios
• Real estate acquisitions
• Spousal income tied to industries under congressional oversight
• Timed trades that outperform market averages
Stock Trading: Legal, Inadvisable, and Absurd
Members of Congress are allowed to trade stocks while crafting legislation that can directly impact markets.
Even after the STOCK Act, enforcement remains weak, penalties are minor, and reporting violations are routine. The perception problem alone is devastating.
No private company would allow its board members to trade shares while rewriting the rules of the industry in real time.
Congress does.
The Incentive to Stay Is Financial, Not Civic
The longer someone remains in Congress, the greater their influence, committee leverage, fundraising power, and market relevance.
Term limits threaten that ecosystem.
Term limits don’t assume corruption. They assume temptation.
The Founders didn’t believe virtue could be relied upon indefinitely. That’s why they designed structural restraints.
The Career Politician Isn’t a Side Effect—It’s the System
The modern “career politician” isn’t primarily about ego or ideology. It’s the predictable outcome of a system that rewards permanence, proximity to power, and time served.
Unlimited tenure turns public office into a long-term financial and professional strategy. Influence compounds. Networks deepen. Opportunities multiply.
At that point, leaving office isn’t a civic decision. It’s a financial one.
Longevity Becomes the Qualification
In a career-based legislature:
• Seniority outweighs merit
• Committee power flows to those who stay longest
• Institutional memory becomes personal leverage
Experience stops meaning “understanding policy” and starts meaning “knowing how the system works”—who to call, what to trade, when to wait.
That kind of experience doesn’t improve representation. It improves survivability.
The Feedback Loop Washington Won’t Break
Careerism creates a self-reinforcing cycle:
- Long tenure increases power
- Power increases fundraising ability
- Fundraising discourages challengers
- Lack of challengers ensures reelection
Elections alone don’t break the cycle. They operate inside it.
Why Term Limits Change the Incentives
Term limits don’t magically produce better politicians. They change behavior.
When time is limited:
• Relationships matter less than results
• Legacy matters more than leverage
• Exit strategies matter less than governance
Most importantly, officeholders know there is no permanent seat waiting for them.
That knowledge alone alters how power is exercised.
Why the Convention of States Is the Only Real Fix
Congress cannot fix a system that depends on its own permanence. Asking it to do so is asking human nature to self-destruct.
COS doesn’t target individuals. It targets the structure that rewards staying forever.
Career politicians are not the disease. They are the symptom.
The Convention of States addresses the cause.
Military ROE and Career Politics
Rules of Engagement: When Political Risk Aversion Gets People Killed
Rules of Engagement are supposed to balance military necessity with legal and ethical restraint. In practice, they’re often shaped less by battlefield reality and more by political risk management.
Career politicians are acutely sensitive to headlines, investigations, and televised outrage. Civilian leaders—answering upward to those politicians—frequently craft restrictive ROE designed to minimize political fallout rather than maximize force protection or mission success.
The result is a dangerous distortion: decisions meant to protect careers in Washington are pushed down to platoons and cockpits operating under fire.
Strategic Ambiguity Becomes Tactical Handcuffs
Overly restrictive ROE often emerge during conflicts where political leadership wants:
• To appear decisive without escalation
• To avoid civilian casualty narratives
• To preserve diplomatic optics
Those concerns are real. But when they dominate ROE design, they create ambiguity at the tactical level, where hesitation can be fatal.
Service members are forced to make split-second decisions while simultaneously calculating legal exposure, media reaction, and command climate. That burden does not exist for the policymakers who wrote the rules.
Accountability Flows in One Direction
When restrictive ROE contribute to failure or loss of life, accountability rarely climbs upward.
Junior leaders face:
• Investigations
• Career-ending scrutiny
• Moral injury
Senior civilian decision-makers—often decades into their political careers—face press conferences.
This imbalance is structural. Career politicians optimize for personal survivability. The military absorbs the risk.
Risk Aversion Is Not Restraint—It’s Abdication
There is a difference between lawful restraint and political paralysis. ROE that prioritize the protection of reputations over the protection of troops undermine both.
Wars are rarely lost because force was applied too decisively. They are lost when force is applied hesitantly, inconsistently, and without clear political ownership of consequences.
Why Rotation at the Top Matters
Civilian control of the military is essential. Civilian permanence is not.
When the same political figures oversee multiple conflicts across decades, ROE become tools of damage control rather than instruments of strategy. Rotation wouldn’t eliminate caution—but it would reduce the incentive to push political risk downward onto those least able to refuse it.
Service members accept risk as part of the profession. They should not be asked to accept politically motivated risk designed to protect someone else’s career.
Historical Reality: Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan
Politically motivated Rules of Engagement are not a modern invention. They’ve appeared repeatedly in U.S. conflicts where civilian leadership sought to control escalation, public perception, or political fallout—often at the expense of tactical clarity and force protection.
Vietnam: War Managed From Washington
Targets were routinely approved—or denied—from Washington. Pilots flew missions knowing certain enemy sanctuaries, airfields, and logistics hubs were off-limits, not because they lacked military value, but because striking them risked political escalation or diplomatic embarrassment.
The result was predictable:
• Prolonged conflict
• Increased exposure to enemy air defenses
• Higher casualty rates for aircrews and ground forces
Vietnam demonstrated a hard truth: when politicians fight wars incrementally to protect careers, the military pays in blood.
Iraq: Legal Ambiguity at the Tactical Level
In Iraq, especially during counterinsurgency phases, ROE became increasingly complex and conditional. Troops operated under layered restrictions designed to minimize civilian casualties and political backlash at home.
The cumulative effect was often:
• Delayed engagement authority
• Second-guessing during hostile encounters
• Increased vulnerability during patrols and convoy operations
When incidents occurred, scrutiny flowed downward. Political architects of the ROE rarely faced accountability.
Afghanistan: Optics Over Outcome
As the war dragged on, ROE tightened further in response to:
• Media narratives
• International pressure
• Domestic war fatigue
Air support was delayed or denied under restrictive engagement criteria. Ground forces were often required to absorb risk rather than escalate, even when enemy intent was clear but not yet “demonstrated” to legal satisfaction.
For those on the ground, it translated into hesitation under fire.
The Pattern Is the Point
These cases share a common thread:
• Long-serving civilian leaders
• Fear of political consequences
• Risk pushed downward onto service members
ROE became tools of career risk management, not instruments of strategy.
This isn’t an indictment of civilian control. It’s an indictment of civilian permanence.
Why This Ties Directly to Term Limits
When political leaders know they will eventually rotate out, incentives change. Decisions become clearer, more accountable, and less performative.
Term limits wouldn’t eliminate tragedy in war. But they would reduce the temptation to offload political risk onto the battlefield.
Service members accept danger as part of service. They should not be asked to accept danger created to protect someone else’s career longevity.
That expectation is not restraint. It is abdication.
Conclusion
Congress didn’t become broken overnight, and it won’t be fixed by better slogans or wishful voting. Unlimited tenure turned public service into a career, power into a commodity, and experience into insulation from consequences.
Early American leaders served briefly, were paid modestly, and returned home. Modern lawmakers entrench themselves, grow wealthy, and govern from a distance.
At the federal level, turnover has collapsed precisely where pay, benefits, influence, and opportunity are highest—while state and local offices rotate because they still resemble service rather than permanence.
Claims that complexity demands lifelong lawmakers confuse self-created dysfunction with expertise.
Congress will never vote to end a system that rewards staying forever, and voters—human as they are—will not reliably dismantle it one incumbent at a time.
The Convention of States exists because the Founders anticipated this failure and built a constitutional remedy around it.
Term limits aren’t radical, reckless, or reactionary. They’re structural realism: power without an exit doesn’t correct itself, and a republic survives only when governing is temporary again.
“Nothing so strongly impels men to sordid views as frequently to recur to the same offices.”
— George Washington, Letter on Rotation in Office, 1796
Constitutional & Founding Sources
- U.S. Constitution, Article V — Amendment process, including state-called conventions
- James Madison, Federalist No. 51 — “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition”
- George Washington, Farewell Address (1796) — Warnings on permanent political attachments
- George Mason, Debates of the Virginia Ratifying Convention (1788)
- Mason opposition to political permanence and consolidation
- Annals of Congress — Early congressional pay (per diem system)
- Compensation, Benefits, & Career Incentives
- Congressional Research Service (CRS) — Salaries of Members of Congress
- Office of Personnel Management (OPM) — CSRS/FERS retirement systems overview
- Incumbency & Turnover
- Brookings Institution — Incumbency advantage in congressional elections
- OpenSecrets.org — Reelection rates, fundraising dominance, donor access
- National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) — State legislative turnover and term-limit data
- Wealth Accumulation & Stock Trading
- OpenSecrets.org — Net worth and financial disclosures of Members of Congress
- House & Senate Financial Disclosure Reports — Statutory filings
- Congressional Research Service — The STOCK Act: Overview and Issues
- New York Times / Wall Street Journal — Bipartisan investigative reporting on congressional trading (multiple articles, 2020–2023)
- Convention of States / Article V
- Convention of States Project — Official Article V application language (primary source)
- American Bar Association — Article V convention legal analysis
- Harvard Journal of Law & Public Policy — Scholarly analysis of “runaway convention” claims
_____________________________
Dave Chamberlin served 38 years in the USAF and Air National Guard as an aircraft crew chief, where he retired as a CMSgt. He has held a wide variety of technical, instructor, consultant, and leadership positions in his more than 40 years of civilian and military aviation experience. Dave holds an FAA Airframe and Powerplant license from the FAA, as well as a Master’s degree in Aeronautical Science. He currently runs his own consulting and training company and has written for numerous trade publications.
His true passion is exploring and writing about issues facing the military, and in particular, aircraft maintenance personnel.
As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.
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