On May 17th, Phil Lyman lost the nomination for Republican Party Chair. For many observers, the result felt like a defeat—a sobering reminder of the establishment’s grip on politics and the shallow applause of personality-driven politics over principle. But in the broader arc of history and moral resistance, this moment should be seen not as a failure, but as another step—a hard-earned inch—in the slow, grueling rebellion of hope.
As Thomas Jefferson wisely observed, “The ground of liberty is to be gained by inches. We must be contented to secure what we can get from time to time and eternally press forward for what is yet to get.” In this light, Lyman’s campaign—like his previous efforts to uphold constitutional fidelity and challenge political complacency—is a deliberate move in a larger, generational effort to move the Overton Window back toward what is just, constitutional, and virtuous.
The Glorious Cause Isn’t Glamorous
Rebellions, by their very nature, are not romantic adventures. They are long, painful, and often thankless. Andor, the gritty Star Wars prequel, reveals this plainly. The true architects of rebellion are not those who give soaring speeches once the tide has turned—they are those who burn down their careers, reputations, comfort, and even families, inch by inch, year after year, just to move the needle of history one degree toward liberty.
That is where Lyman stands now—not as a defeated candidate, but as a citizen-leader still gaining ground.
Lyman and the Overton Window
The Overton Window refers to the range of ideas the public will accept. The establishment maintains this window through carefully manicured narratives, institutional control, and cultural compliance. But Lyman’s campaigns have consistently pushed against these constraints—questioning centralized power, defending the Constitution, and refusing to bow to party orthodoxy.
Each campaign, regardless of outcome, shifts the window. Each speech he gives, each challenge he lodges, is part of what Jefferson described as the “eternal pressing forward.” The goal isn’t to win every race—it’s to move the country back toward its moral center.
Setbacks Are Not Surrenders
There is an emotional cost to resistance. Those who burn for truth often feel alone. The temptation to quit—especially after what seems like a public defeat—is very real. But liberty movements don’t hinge on one election. They are built on small wins, cumulative moral victories, and unwavering conviction.
Phil Lyman’s decision to run was not about ambition—it was about principle. His candidacy represents a kind of political protest against passivity, cowardice, and the corruption of personality ethics that Stephen Covey warned against in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. We live in a nation increasingly built on performance, appearance, and charisma—on the comfort zone of surface-level politics—while the deeper moral structures rot.
The Tyranny of the Comfort Zone
Tytler’s Cycle of Nations reminds us that comfort and abundance eventually breed apathy, dependence, and bondage. The American people—dulled by ease and disconnected from foundational truths—are sleepwalking into servitude. As Noam Chomsky famously said, “The general population doesn’t know what’s happening, and it doesn’t even know that it doesn’t know.” Their opinions are manufactured, their passivity cultivated.
This isn’t just about Lyman. This is about the majority of Americans—unwitting servants of oligarchs—who don’t realize that their apathy is itself complicity. When we fail to see the tyranny we are supporting, we lose our power to resist it.
Choosing to Stand
“There were souls who wished afterwards that they had stood and fought with Washington and the Founding Fathers,” Ezra Taft Benson warned, “but they waited too long—they passed up eternal glory.”
Lyman’s loss must not become a reason to retreat. It must become the reason to continue. This is how rebellions begin—through sacrifice, resilience, and vision. We do not wait for perfect conditions to act. We act because the conditions demand it.
Just like the man in the parable who was commanded daily by the master to push against an immovable rock, Phil Lyman’s journey is not measured by whether the “rock” of party control has moved, but by what the resistance has forged within him—and within those who follow. The man in the story eventually cries out in despair, thinking he has failed because the rock has not budged. But the master replies: “I didn’t ask you to move the rock. I asked you to push. Look at your shoulders, your back, your legs—you have become strong.” In the same way, Lyman’s fight—though it may seem fruitless to some on the surface—has reshaped hearts, awakened minds, and inspired courage. The Overton Window has shifted not by miles, but by inches, and liberty is not restored in leaps but in persistent, principled resistance. This rebellion of hope was never about immediate political conquest. It was, and is, about becoming the kind of people who are fit to be free.
Let the inch gained today be the spark that ignites another. May those who are watching begin to question the system they quietly support. May they, like Jefferson, choose to press forward for what is yet to get.
