The United States operates under a system of checks and balances, designed to ensure that no single branch of government—executive, legislative, or judicial—gains unchecked power. The judiciary, in particular, serves as a guardian of the Constitution, often stepping in to review and, when necessary, limit actions by the executive branch. However, this role has sparked debate over whether American judges have, at times, overstepped their authority, effectively abusing their power by defying the presidency. This essay explores this contention through three prominent examples, one of which involves Washington State Attorney General Bob Ferguson’s legal battles against presidential actions. By examining these cases, alongside broader historical and contemporary contexts, we can assess whether judicial interventions represent an abuse of power or a legitimate exercise of constitutional duty.
The judiciary’s power to review executive actions stems from Marbury v. Madison (1803), which established judicial review as a cornerstone of American governance. This authority allows courts to strike down executive orders or actions deemed unconstitutional. While this power is essential to upholding the rule of law, critics argue it can be wielded excessively, undermining the elected executive’s ability to govern. When judges issue rulings that halt presidential initiatives—often with nationwide injunctions—they may appear to defy the will of the executive, raising questions about overreach. Such actions can disrupt policy implementation, create legal uncertainty, and shift power dynamics in ways that some perceive as judicial activism rather than restraint.
The accusation of abuse often hinges on the scope and impact of judicial decisions. Nationwide injunctions, for instance, allow a single district judge to block a president’s policy across the entire country, amplifying the judiciary’s influence. Critics, including some legal scholars and political figures, contend this practice exceeds the judiciary’s intended role, effectively allowing unelected judges to dictate national policy. To evaluate this claim, we turn to three examples: the travel ban litigation during Donald Trump’s first term, Washington AG Bob Ferguson’s challenges to Trump-era policies, and the recent judicial resistance to Trump’s 2025 executive orders on birthright citizenship.
One of the most prominent instances of alleged judicial overreach occurred early in Donald Trump’s presidency with his executive order imposing a travel ban on citizens from several predominantly Muslim countries. Signed on January 27, 2017, Executive Order 13769 aimed to enhance national security by restricting entry from Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen. Critics, however, labeled it a “Muslim ban,” citing Trump’s campaign rhetoric and arguing it violated constitutional protections against religious discrimination.
Washington State, led by Attorney General Bob Ferguson, quickly filed a lawsuit challenging the order. On February 3, 2017, U.S. District Judge James Robart in Seattle issued a temporary restraining order (TRO) halting the ban nationwide. This decision was upheld by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, forcing the administration to revise the policy multiple times before the Supreme Court eventually upheld a narrower version in Trump v. Hawaii (2018).
Critics of the judiciary’s actions argue that Judge Robart’s nationwide injunction exemplified judicial overreach. As a single district judge, Robart effectively nullified a presidential order affecting national security—a domain traditionally within the executive’s purview. The administration contended that the judiciary lacked the expertise to assess security threats and that such rulings encroached on executive authority under Article II of the Constitution, which grants the president broad powers over foreign affairs. Furthermore, the speed and scope of the injunction fueled perceptions of judicial defiance, as it preempted the administration’s ability to implement its agenda without prolonged legal battles.
Defenders of the judiciary counter that Robart’s ruling was a necessary check on an unconstitutional order. Evidence from Ferguson’s lawsuit—including statements from affected Washington residents and businesses like Microsoft—demonstrated tangible harm, such as family separations and economic disruption. The judiciary, in this view, acted within its mandate to protect individual rights and ensure executive actions align with constitutional principles. Yet the question remains: did the nationwide scope of the injunction represent an abuse of power, or was it a proportionate response to an urgent legal violation?
Washington Attorney General Bob Ferguson provides a second compelling example through his lawsuit against the Trump administration’s U.S. Postal Service (USPS) policies in 2020. Amid the COVID-19 pandemic and an impending presidential election reliant on mail-in voting, Postmaster General Louis DeJoy implemented operational changes—such as reducing overtime and enforcing strict truck departure schedules—that led to widespread mail delays. Ferguson, alongside a coalition of states, argued these changes violated federal law and threatened the integrity of the election by delaying ballot delivery.
On September 17, 2020, U.S. District Judge Stanley Bastian in Yakima, Washington, granted Ferguson’s request for a nationwide injunction, ordering the USPS to halt its “leave mail behind” policy and treat election mail as First Class regardless of postage. The ruling forced immediate operational reversals, overriding DeJoy’s directives and, by extension, the administration’s approach to postal management during a critical period.
Critics of this judicial intervention assert that Bastian’s decision constituted an abuse of power by defying the executive’s administrative authority. The USPS operates under the president’s appointees, and DeJoy’s changes were framed as efficiency measures within his discretion. A single judge’s ability to impose a nationwide injunction disrupted a federal agency’s operations, raising concerns about judicial overreach into executive functions. Some conservative commentators argued that Ferguson’s lawsuit, and Bastian’s ruling, were politically motivated attempts to undermine Trump’s re-election chances, given the timing and emphasis on mail-in voting—a contentious issue in 2020.
Supporters of Ferguson and Bastian argue that the judiciary acted to safeguard democracy. Evidence of mail delays—documented in internal USPS records and public reports—suggested a real risk to voters’ rights, particularly in states like Washington with significant mail-in voting populations. Ferguson’s legal team framed the case as a defense of constitutional voting rights, not a partisan attack. Nonetheless, the nationwide scope of the injunction amplified the perception of judicial defiance, as it imposed a uniform solution on a complex, executive-led agency without allowing for nuanced implementation.
A more recent example emerges from Trump’s second term, beginning in 2025, with his executive order seeking to end birthright citizenship—a policy rooted in the 14th Amendment. Signed on January 21, 2025, the order aimed to reinterpret the amendment’s phrase “subject to the jurisdiction thereof” to exclude children born to undocumented immigrants. Washington AG Bob Ferguson, now Governor, supported a lawsuit filed by his successor, Attorney General Nick Brown, challenging the order’s constitutionality.
On February 6, 2025, a Seattle federal judge issued an indefinite nationwide block on the order, siding with Washington and other states. The ruling sparked outrage from Trump and allies like Vice President JD Vance, who suggested defying the court, arguing it infringed on executive power to regulate immigration. Critics of the judiciary hailed this as another instance of abuse, claiming a district judge lacked authority to rewrite constitutional citizenship rules—a prerogative of the executive and Congress.
Proponents of the judicial block assert it upheld a clear constitutional mandate. The 14th Amendment’s text, reinforced by United States v. Wong Kim Ark (1898), guarantees citizenship to those born on U.S. soil, regardless of parental status. Ferguson and Brown argued the order caused immediate harm to Washington families, risking deportations and legal chaos. Yet the nationwide injunction reignited debates over judicial scope, with detractors questioning why one judge could halt a president’s immigration policy nationwide.
These examples—Ferguson’s travel ban challenge, his Postal Service lawsuit, and the birthright citizenship ruling—highlight a pattern of judicial intervention that critics label as defiant abuse. Nationwide injunctions, issued by district judges like Robart, Bastian, and the Seattle judge, amplify this perception by extending judicial influence beyond local jurisdictions. Such actions can paralyze executive policy, as seen in the travel ban’s multi-year revisions and the USPS’s operational upheaval. When judges rule swiftly and broadly, they may appear to prioritize political outcomes over deference to the elected executive, fueling accusations of activism.
However, context matters. Each case involved credible evidence of harm—religious discrimination, voting disruptions, and constitutional violations—suggesting the judiciary acted within its Article III mandate to adjudicate “cases and controversies.” Ferguson’s involvement, as a state official defending Washingtonians, underscores the federalist tension between state and national authority, not merely judicial defiance. Historical precedent, like President Andrew Jackson’s defiance of the Supreme Court in Worcester v. Georgia (1832), shows executives have also overstepped, complicating the narrative of judicial abuse.
American judges have undeniably defied presidential actions, as seen in Ferguson’s legal victories and the 2025 citizenship ruling. Whether this constitutes abuse of power depends on perspective: critics see an unelected judiciary usurping executive prerogative, while supporters view it as a vital check on unconstitutional overreach. The tension reflects the Constitution’s design—balancing power among branches—rather than a flaw. Ferguson’s cases, rooted in protecting state interests, exemplify this dynamic, not a rogue judiciary. Ultimately, the line between abuse and duty remains contested, shaped by each case’s stakes and the judiciary’s willingness to wield its authority boldly.
Editorial comments expressed in this column are the sole opinion of the writer.
