Ben Shapiro OWNS Eric Swalwell and Entire Democrats In Explosive Congress Hearing
What was meant to be a moment of political vulnerability quickly turned into something else entirely. Democrats entered the hearing confident they had found a pressure point: Project 2025, a policy blueprint that had surged in headlines, campaign ads, and search trends. The strategy was straightforward—attach the proposal to a high-profile conservative voice, force a binary answer, and let the framing do the rest.
The witness they chose was Ben Shapiro. What followed was not the clean takedown many expected, but a long, revealing exchange that resisted simplification and, in the process, exposed the difference between ideology as a slogan and policy as an argument.
By the end of the session, the hearing had inverted its original premise. What began as an attempt to corner a witness became a case study in how political theater can collapse under sustained questioning—and how clarity, even when controversial, can redirect the narrative.
The Setup: Project 2025 as a Political Litmus Test
Project 2025 had become a convenient shorthand in national politics. To supporters, it represented a plan to rein in bureaucracy and restore executive authority. To critics, it was cast as an extremist manifesto—an all-encompassing threat to democratic norms. Its prominence made it an attractive target for congressional interrogation.
The opening question set the tone. On a scale from zero to one hundred, how much did Shapiro support Project 2025?
Shapiro’s response was immediate and dismissive of the framing. He said he had not studied the document in depth and suggested that its sudden omnipresence owed more to political repetition than substantive debate. With a pointed cultural reference, he quipped that Democrats seemed to believe repeating “Project 2025” often enough could magically revive their presidential campaign.
The room shifted. The witness had refused the binary.
Agreement Where None Was Expected
Rather than pressing the original trap, the questioning pivoted to individual components commonly associated with the proposal. Less bureaucracy? Shapiro agreed. Greater efficiency? Agreed. Smarter use of taxpayer money? Again, agreement.
The exchange took on an unexpected tone—one of alignment rather than confrontation. When the questioner jokingly remarked that this sounded like Republican thinking, Shapiro replied in kind. It was a small moment, but revealing. The ideological distance the hearing relied on was narrowing, not widening.
This early alignment mattered because it reframed the discussion. Instead of debating caricatures, the conversation moved toward fundamentals: what government should do, how large it should be, and how accountable it ought to remain.
Immigration: From Slogans to Standards
Immigration is often where hearings turn combustible, and this one was no exception. Shapiro was asked about “mass deportations,” a phrase frequently used to characterize conservative immigration proposals.
His answer was more conditional than categorical. He said he supports deporting illegal immigrants who commit crimes or impose a net burden on taxpayers. He also argued that economic contribution and tax compliance should matter in enforcement decisions.
When pressed with a hypothetical—undocumented agricultural workers who have committed no crimes and help feed American families—Shapiro responded by returning to metrics rather than emotion. Taxes paid, benefits drawn, criminal activity, and timeframes for compliance should determine outcomes, he said.
The question then became logistical: how would such contributions be measured?
Shapiro pointed to the Internal Revenue Service. If the IRS can track the income of hundreds of millions of Americans with granular precision, he argued, it could apply similar standards—if policymakers chose to build such a system. The real obstacle, he added, was the lack of reliable data on how many undocumented immigrants are in the country.
The exchange revealed a broader theme of the hearing: disagreement not over values alone, but over whether policy should be governed by standards or symbols.
Abortion: Belief Versus Authority
When the discussion turned to abortion, the tone sharpened. Shapiro stated plainly that he is pro-life and personally opposed to the abortion pill. At the same time, he emphasized that abortion regulation is a state-level issue—a position consistent with post-Dobbs legal realities.
This distinction—between personal belief and governmental jurisdiction—would recur throughout the hearing. Shapiro repeatedly separated what he believes from what he thinks the federal government should enforce.
That separation did not end the questioning, but it complicated it. The attempt to portray a single ideological line running from personal faith to public coercion encountered resistance grounded in constitutional structure.
Same-Sex Marriage and the Turn to Theology
The most contentious segment arrived when the questioning shifted from policy into theology. Asked about same-sex marriage, Shapiro said he supports traditional marriage as defined by his religious beliefs while remaining “perfectly fine” with adults entering any voluntary sexual arrangement they choose.
The distinction he drew was precise: private conduct versus government recognition and benefits. The former, he said, should not be regulated by the state. The latter is a policy question about what relationships the government chooses to incentivize.
The questioner pressed harder, asking whether being gay is a sin.
Shapiro paused and clarified. From a religious Jewish perspective, he said, sexual orientation is not a sin; sexual activity outside that tradition’s moral framework is. He added that this view is shared by many major religions.
What stood out was not agreement—many disagreed vehemently—but the insistence on categorization. Shapiro rejected the idea that a religious belief automatically translates into public coercion. Faith, he argued, informs personal morality; it does not mandate state control of private, consensual behavior.
In a hearing designed to collapse distinctions, Shapiro kept rebuilding them.
Social Security: The Uncomfortable Math
Few topics unite politicians like avoiding Social Security reform. Shapiro did not. Asked whether he supports cutting Social Security, he rejected the phrasing and reframed the issue as one of fiscal sustainability.
The program, he said, is on a path toward insolvency. Ignoring that reality will only force harsher measures later—either severe austerity, major tax increases, or inflationary pressure. He suggested privatization and raising the retirement age as potential reforms.
The response was politically risky, but consistent with his broader approach. Rather than deny the problem or defer it, he argued that honesty now prevents crisis later.
Books, Schools, and the Charge of Censorship
When asked about banning books on slavery, Shapiro rejected the premise outright. He said he opposes censorship of history and described the accusation as “absolutely ridiculous.”
He then narrowed the issue to age-appropriate material in school libraries. Decisions about what is suitable for a seventh grader, he argued, are not the same as banning historical discussion. The conflation of the two, he suggested, is a rhetorical tactic rather than a policy debate.
Again, the pattern repeated: broad accusation, narrow response.
Free Speech, Power, and Economic Pressure
As the hearing wound down, attention turned to free speech and corporate influence. Shapiro and others argued that economic leverage—particularly advertising pressure—has become a tool for shaping acceptable viewpoints. The concern, they said, is not government censorship alone, but private coordination that narrows public discourse without formal bans.
The exchange echoed earlier themes. Power, in Shapiro’s telling, often operates indirectly—through incentives, penalties, and reputational risk—rather than through explicit prohibition.
The Names Not in the Room
Near the end, frustration surfaced about witnesses who were not present. Alvin Bragg had been expected to testify but did not appear. Hunter Biden was also absent. Planned votes on impeachment articles had not occurred.
The complaint was blunt: strong press releases, little payoff. The comment underscored a growing skepticism—on both sides of the aisle—about hearings that generate headlines without resolution.
From Vulnerability to Reversal
By the session’s end, the initial framing had reversed. The effort to tie Shapiro to a sweeping ideological blueprint yielded a series of granular policy positions instead. The witness did not adopt Project 2025 wholesale, nor did he disavow conservative principles. He parsed, qualified, and contextualized.
For supporters, the performance demonstrated intellectual discipline under pressure. For critics, it confirmed positions they oppose—but on clearer terms than slogans allow.
What is undeniable is that the hearing resisted the neat outcome it was designed to produce. It became less about a document and more about a method: whether politics is best conducted through labels or through arguments.
Why This Hearing Resonated
The exchange resonated because it highlighted a widening gap in American political culture. On one side is narrative-first politics—attach a label, repeat it often, and let the association do the work. On the other is a more old-fashioned approach: define terms, distinguish levels of authority, and argue from first principles.
Shapiro’s strategy did not rely on charm or evasion. It relied on refusing false binaries and insisting on specificity. That approach does not persuade everyone—but it does change the terrain.
In an era dominated by viral clips and compressed outrage, the hearing served as a reminder that complexity still has power. Attempts to corner can fail when the target declines to play the game.
The Broader Implication
Project 2025 will continue to appear in speeches and ads. So will Donald Trump, whose name hovered over the hearing even when unspoken. But this session suggested that attaching a label is not the same as winning an argument.
What began as an effort to expose a weakness ended as a demonstration of how political narratives can unravel when confronted with sustained, detailed answers. Whether one agrees with Shapiro or not, the hearing showed the limits of simplification—and the enduring challenge of governing a country where ideas refuse to fit neatly into talking points.
In the end, the most revealing moment was not a clash but a convergence: agreement on efficiency, accountability, and the need for honest debate. Those are not partisan concepts. They are democratic ones.
And in a political environment defined by noise, the refusal to be simplified may be the most disruptive act of all.
