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What, exactly, is the purpose of Congress? In the second presidency of Donald Trump, it can be hard to tell. The authority to declare war, long considered a crucial legislative power, has become a murky prerogative of the executive branch in the time since September 11; the president, in the past few months, has asserted even more of that power for himself, conducting strikes on boats in the Caribbean Sea.

The power of the purse seems to have largely been taken away from Congress too; currently, under the office of budget chief, the OMB director, much of the power to allocate government money has also shifted to the executive, with the White House claiming the ability to cancel legislatively approved expenditures and seeking to move the money elsewhere. It’s as if they’re enacting any legislation, either; almost all legislation must currently be packed into spending packages, huge recurring must-spend omnibus legislation that can bypass the senate obstruction. But when those fail to be approved – and increasingly, they don’t – the government just ceases operations. That is, big parts of the government do – and it’s not clear how many people are aware. Currently, the government has been shut down for the entire month; there are little indication of it resuming operations anytime soon. But the executive branch keeps on operating smoothly.

And so the question of control of Congress can seem rather moot. Why should Americans care who has a majority in a institution that has mostly abolished itself?

How ‘screw Trump’ messaging could assist the state of California’s Prop 50 succeed

And yet Proposition 50, California’s redistricting referendum that could deliver five more congressional positions to the Democrats if it is embraced by the electorate in a upcoming vote in the coming weeks, has seized the political imagination of liberals across the country. Partly, it is a belated response to developments happening elsewhere: Republican-controlled states have long embraced extreme partisan gerrymandering while large Democratic-controlled such as California, New York and Washington create their district lines via impartial independent commissions, an imbalance that has led to closely divided control of the House and a long-term sense, by the left, that their political group is bringing a knife to a gun fight. The state measure is explicitly designed as a response to a mid-decade redistricting that was recently approved in the Lone Star State, which implemented boundaries that will give the GOP an additional five positions in the state House representation next year; comparable redistricting moves are under way in states such as the Show-Me State and the Hoosier State. (The left in the Old Dominion are also emulating California’s lead in seeking to alter districts.)

The state initiative seems likely to be approved, as Democratic and liberal voters respond with concern and frustration to the president’s authoritarian consolidation of authority and seek ways to restrain his worst tendencies. But the proposition is not without debate. Some opponents caution that the action could have unintended consequences, with blue states’ efforts to change districts triggering a revenge cycle in which red states do even more to design their maps so as to eliminate any chance of Democratic competitiveness. Different critics have critiqued the measure on strictly principled pro-democracy bases: a electoral area that is created in such a way that the outcome of the election is not in question, they say, is one that cannot be said to be truly representative: it implies, necessarily, that the influence of opposing voices is muted, and that the process of deliberation, discussion and persuasion that is supposed to characterize a functioning democratic process will be confined only to party primaries, if it occurs at all.

It is valuable taking each of these objections on their merits. The initial argument, that the measure will spur conservatives to alter their own districts in response, fails as a logical argument: it is illogical to claim that the GOP will be compelled to act in undemocratic ways by Democrats’ measures when they are already engaging in such behavior without those actions. The GOP, I would observe, has required no any incentive of revenge to redraw boundaries that guarantee permanent positions for themselves: they have been ready to do this for its own sake, in the complete absence of Democratic reciprocation, for years.

The second objection, in my view, is more significant, reflecting not just a tactical difference about how to confront the GOP’s undemocratic shift, but a sort of sad wish for a different country than the one that the US has become. It is true that in a better situation – in the reality that most Democrats, it is believed, desire and aspire to – the proposition would be unappealing to our principles, and not mandated by our circumstances. It is undesirable to pack and crack targeted population groups; it is harmful for elected officials to select their voters, instead of the reverse; it is negative that votes are rendered noncompetitive. That these actions have grown necessary in order to slow the autocratic advance of Trump’s power and lessen the amount of suffering he is able to cause is unfortunate; it is a indication of how far we have declined from something more like a representative government. But they are required. It is only after the battle against Trumpism has been won that we can lament what opposing it has transformed us into.

If Congress does not in reality have legislative, military or appropriations authority, what is it, precisely, that the proposition’s additional five Democratic house members will be dispatched to the capital to do? One aspect that the House and Senate continues to retains is the authority to compel testimony, and the ability to examine. Even in our time of sclerotic politics and congressional atrophy, it has made use of that authority to significant impact. In the coming years, if Prop 50 passes and the state’s new Democrats are sworn in, they will find themselves a member of a institution with the power to investigate Trump, to televise their hearings into his conduct and to force members of his close advisors to give evidence. It’s significant, and more importantly, it’s not something that any Republican would do.

• Moira Donegan is a Guardian US writer