A congressional hearing that might ordinarily have passed with little public notice instead offered a revealing look at the strain between constitutional responsibility and executive power, as Representative Annie Kuster Goodlander pressed Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth on a series of unresolved obligations — and received few clear answers in return.
The exchange unfolded not as a shouting match, but as a methodical examination of duty. Goodlander began by grounding her questions in the oath that binds both lawmakers and military leaders alike: allegiance not to a president or a party, but to the Constitution. From there, she moved quickly to first principles of governance — money, oversight, and the rule of law.

Under federal statute, the Department of Defense is required to submit its annual budget to Congress on a fixed timeline. Months past that deadline, the budget had yet to arrive. Hegseth acknowledged the delay, citing the challenges of a first year in a new administration, but declined to offer a firm date for when Congress could expect the document.
That absence is not merely procedural. Without a budget, lawmakers cannot evaluate priorities, weigh tradeoffs, or exercise the “power of the purse” assigned to them by the Constitution. Goodlander made clear that accountability cannot function in the dark, particularly when the department in question oversees more discretionary spending than any other arm of the federal government.
She then turned to a related failure that has quietly persisted for decades: the Pentagon’s inability to pass a financial audit. While every other major federal agency has eventually met that standard, the Department of Defense has not. Hegseth reiterated his commitment to passing an audit in the coming years, but offered no concrete plan for doing so in the near term — a response that underscored the gap between stated intentions and measurable progress.
From fiscal governance, Goodlander moved into the realm of strategic competition. She questioned whether American dominance in artificial intelligence — increasingly central to command, control, and decision-making in modern warfare — could ever become a bargaining chip in negotiations with China. Hegseth responded with broad assurances that the administration was committed to maintaining U.S. technological leadership, but stopped short of making an explicit pledge that such dominance would remain off the table in diplomatic or trade talks.
The exchange reflected a larger anxiety in Washington: that short-term political negotiations could undermine long-term strategic advantage. As artificial intelligence reshapes military planning and global power balances, ambiguity itself becomes a risk.
But it was Goodlander’s question about cyber operations that shifted the hearing from abstract concern to pointed confrontation. She asked directly whether Hegseth had ordered a pause in offensive cyber operations against Russia — a report that, if true, would signal a significant change in posture toward a nation widely regarded as a persistent cyber adversary.

Hegseth denied that any such order had been given. Goodlander immediately placed that denial on the record, signaling that Congress intends to pursue the matter further. In the opaque world of cyber warfare, where actions are rarely visible and oversight is difficult by design, even a brief pause can carry strategic consequences.
The most consequential moment, however, came near the end of her questioning. Goodlander asked whether Hegseth would obey a ruling of the United States Supreme Court if one were issued. It was a question that, in another era, might have seemed unnecessary.
Instead of answering directly, Hegseth pivoted to a critique of lower courts and their role in shaping foreign policy. The response did not address the question posed. Goodlander attempted to clarify, emphasizing that she was asking about the Supreme Court — the highest judicial authority in the country — but her time expired before a clear answer was given.
The exchange lingered uncomfortably. In a constitutional system built on checks and balances, obedience to judicial rulings is not optional, nor is it conditional on agreement. The refusal to answer a straightforward question about that obligation raised concerns that extended well beyond the hearing room.
What made the moment notable was not its theatricality, but its tone. Goodlander’s questions were calm, precise, and rooted in statutory and constitutional text. They were not framed as accusations, but as requests for clarity. The evasiveness she encountered suggested not a single misstep, but a pattern — one in which responsibility is acknowledged rhetorically while specifics are deferred indefinitely.
Taken together, the hearing illustrated a deeper challenge facing democratic governance. Oversight depends on information. Accountability depends on timelines. And the rule of law depends on unambiguous commitments to abide by it. When officials tasked with immense authority cannot or will not provide those assurances, the problem is not partisan disagreement — it is institutional erosion.
The questions raised by Goodlander remain unresolved. When will Congress receive the budget it is legally owed? When will the Pentagon meet the audit standards required of every other agency? What exactly is the administration’s posture on cyber conflict with adversarial states? And will the executive branch affirm, without qualification, its obligation to comply with judicial authority?
These are not ideological questions. They are structural ones. And as the hearing made clear, the answers — or lack thereof — will shape not just policy outcomes, but the health of constitutional governance itself.