“Whenever a Man Has Cast a Longing Eye on Offices, a Rottenness Begins”: The Case for Term Limits

From day one, the Founding Fathers pictured a government run by citizen legislators—ordinary people who’d reluctantly serve a term or two, then return to their farms, shops, and real lives. Washington wanted to get back to Mount Vernon. Jefferson thought too much ambition made men “rotten.” Madison was more interested in ideas than pensions. These guys never imagined Congress would become a long-term Airbnb rental for career politicians who refuse to check out.

Fast-forward two centuries, and we’ve managed to create the very ruling class they warned us about. Congress is packed with lifers who treat public office like rent-controlled apartments: once you get in, you never leave. They’ve become so entrenched that their districts could reelect them if they campaigned from a rocking chair.

Term limits aren’t just a good idea—they’re life support for a republic that’s choking on its own political mildew.

Founders’ Intent: Jury Duty, Not a Career

George Washington set the gold standard by leaving after two presidential terms, despite the fact he could’ve stayed forever. Jefferson warned, “Whenever a man has cast a longing eye on offices, a rottenness begins in his conduct.” Translation: cling to the job too long and you’ll start to stink.

Public service was supposed to be like jury duty: do your part, try not to screw it up, and then get the heck back to your real life. The Founders didn’t picture 40-year incumbents building empires in D.C. while voters at home forget what they even look like.

Small Districts, Massive Power

Here’s the trick no one likes to talk about: politicians often represent tiny slivers of the country, but their seniority lets them boss around the whole nation. It’s like letting the kid with the smallest toy on the playground write the rules for everyone else.

• José E. Serrano (D-NY): Thirty years representing a few subway stops in the Bronx, yet voting on national defense and foreign policy.

• Marcy Kaptur (D-OH): Forty years in a slice of northern Ohio. She’s outlasted half the factories she once represented.

• Nick Rahall (D-WV): 38 years from a coal district that could barely fill a stadium, but his vote carried the same weight as California’s.

• Patrick Leahy (D-VT): Vermont has fewer people than some neighborhoods in Brooklyn, yet Leahy spent 48 years chairing Senate committees and steering national law.

• John Dingell (D-MI): 59 years in a Detroit-area district. That’s not public service, that’s generational squatting.

And the Republicans aren’t any better:

• Don Young (R-AK): Alaska’s lone Congressman for 49 years. Representing fewer people than Brooklyn, but voting on laws for 330 million Americans.

• Richard Shelby (R-AL): 36 years in the Senate, funnelling federal cash home as if Alabama were the center of the universe.

• Mitch McConnell (R-KY): In the Senate since 1985. Half the country wasn’t even born when he started—but he still controls the national choke points.

• Hal Rogers (R-KY-5): Over 40 years representing a poor rural Kentucky district, yet somehow became one of the most powerful appropriators in Congress.

• Chris Smith (R-NJ-4): A small New Jersey patch since 1981—political mold that even bleach couldn’t scrub out.

Tiny constituencies. Outsized power. Endless tenure. That’s the American way!

Public Service, or Get-Rich-Quick Scheme?

Public office wasn’t supposed to be a jackpot. Yet somehow, the base salary of $174,000 magically multiplies into multi-million-dollar fortunes. Pelosi’s net worth hit over $100 million with stock trades so “lucky” they’d make Vegas blush. McConnell and Shelby saw their wealth skyrocket while “serving” the people. These aren’t isolated cases—it’s the business model.

The longer they stay, the more cozy deals they make with lobbyists, corporations, and special interests. They don’t just blur the line between public service and self-service—they erase it.

Why Term Limits?

Because clearly, trusting politicians to “do the right thing” has worked about as well as trusting raccoons to guard your garbage. Term limits would:

1. Cut off corruption before it matures into a dynasty.

2. Inject fresh blood (and maybe some fresh ideas) into a stagnant swamp.

3. Level the playing field so challengers actually stand a chance against incumbents with war chests the size of Fort Knox.

4. Stop hyperlocal fiefdoms from hijacking national policy.

We already limit presidents to two terms. Many states cap governors and legislators. But Congress? Nope. Apparently, they’re indispensable—as if the Republic would collapse if Chris Smith from New Jersey finally retired.

Time to Kick Them Out

America was built by everyday citizens who stepped up, served, and went home—not by lifers who treat Washington like their family estate. The Founders feared entrenched elites—and now we’ve got a political class that makes European monarchies look like temp gigs.

Term limits are the only way to fumigate the rot, restore turnover, and give the people their government back. If Jefferson, Washington, and Madison saw Congress today, they’d grab their muskets and march straight to Capitol Hill.

It’s time to end the squatters’ rights era of politics. Term limits now—or we can just admit we’ve replaced King George with King Mitch, Queen Nancy, and Lord Whoever’s Been Sitting There Since the ‘80s.