At its worst, the proceduralist argument is a handy political dodge for elected officials caught between anti-war energy and the perceived risks of taking a strong position—a way to avoid interrogating a particular war on its merits. Does this war enhance or endanger national security? Does this war advance or undermine the interests of average Americans? Is this war inflicting horrible misery on the civilians whose country is being bombed? There is often little oxygen left to discuss these first-order questions in a debate environment dominated by the issue of what role Congress should play.

This motivation was exemplified most recently by the bill proposed last year by Senators Tim Kaine and Bob Corker to replace the 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF), the law passed days after the September 11 attacks (over Democratic Congresswoman Barbara Lee’s sole dissenting vote) that authorized the president to use force against “those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided” the attacks and those who “harbored such organizations or persons.” Kaine tried to sell the bill by invoking the language of war powers proceduralism: “Our proposal finally… makes Congress do its job by weighing in on where, when, and with who we are at war.” Yet despite the lip service paid to an assertive Congressional role, the bill would have effectively codified Congressional acceptance of endless war: It promised to authorize military force against all of the “terrorist organizations” the U.S. is currently fighting, including ones like the Islamic State that did not exist on September 11. The proposal also placed no real barriers on the president if he wanted to add “associated” groups to the target list, promising to expand the executive branch’s wars, not limit them.

Calling on Congress to assert its war powers also functions as a way for pro-war pundits to establish pseudo-opposition to unpopular wars. A few days before President Trump launched airstrikes against Syrian military targets last year, Tim Kaine tweeted, “Assad should face consequences for his atrocities, but Trump is a president, not a king - he needs to come to Congress if he wants to initiate military action.” This superficial posturing reaps the political benefits of opposing an unpopular president without actually opposing his wars. Would Tim Kaine vote for strikes against the Syrian government, and why or why not? Thanks to this sort of rhetorical position, his constituents never found out.

If we want to get serious about ending or even just reining in America’s wars, the first step is to talk about war directly. Our domestic policy procedures shouldn’t be mythologized as a guarantee of good foreign policy. Anti-war advocates who use the proceduralist appeal must understand that calling on Congress to “reclaim” its war powers is by no means inherently an anti-war argument, as countless pro-war proceduralists have made clear. Ultimately, while law can set the procedures for doing politics, it cannot be a substitute for politics: In an era of perpetual war, the only way to get members of Congress to vote for peace is to convince them, and their constituents, that endless war must end.