Introduction

A Plan to Renew the Promise of American Life

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Introduction

This is not your father’s plan to save America, although it might be your grandfather’s. I call it, immodestly, ‘a plan to renew the promise of American life.’ It’s really just a compilation of the results of a thought experiment. And I hasten to add, it’s not a platform in the conventional sense. It gathers in one place my collected thoughts on how I think we could, without violence, make America America again — I mean America in her best and noblest sense.

The challenge I set for myself was to figure out how we might reverse America’s obvious and alarming decline. And I decided there is only one way to do that: restore the principles of the American founding to the center of our national life.

This thought, of course, is unoriginal. It’s as old as the republic. But in our time, it probably seems strange, even silly. But that’s only because it’s unfamiliar. We assume we’ve outgrown the principles that made America great, when really we’ve only forgotten them.

Some of the recommendations here are trivial, some are sweeping. A few are just practical — mere advice or rules of thumb. To make things more intelligible, I gathered it all up into fourteen broad categories or buckets, which, for want of a better term, I dubbed ‘planks.’

The thought experiment began around 2010, when I realized that just about every reform movement I had supported had failed or seemed hopeless. And I wondered why. And I decided the answer was that none were serious. We were addressing the symptoms instead of the disease. And we weren’t trying to look at the whole picture, but rather focusing on specific issues in isolation.

It was not enough, I realized, to ‘elect the right people’ — although that, of course, is always necessary. (Isn’t it odd, by the way, how ‘our people,’ once in office, always seem to stop being our people?)

In addition to the right people, we need the right goals, and the right principles to guide them. And of course, we need to address the real problem.

I decided the real problem boils down to excessive concentrations of power — governmental power, economic power, institutional power.

By ‘America’s decline,’ I mean the obvious problems that fill the headlines. The signs of economic deterioration and the hollowing out of the middle class. The slow but steady fading of free enterprise and its replacement by bureaucracy and monopoly.

The massive and ever-growing national debt. The rise of income inequality. The chronic inflation.

The administrative state, the endless expansion of government-by-fiat. The failure of our institutions, their corruption, and the maddening results of our health care, education, and welfare ‘systems.’

The racism masquerading as ‘justice.’ The public vulgarity and indecency. The weakening of marriage and family life. The culture wars.

I’m thinking of the alarming degradation of our global power, reputation, and respect. The endless stream of illegal immigrants across our southern border. The fact that we don’t always live up to our own principles, either at home or abroad.

I’m thinking of the loss of individual liberty and privacy. The growth of censorship. The suspicion that the news is doctored and that our election results are not always honest. The feeling that we’re under constant surveillance.

Most of all, I’m thinking of the growing enmity and distrust among own people. The demonization of our neighbors and fellow citizens as villains and enemies of democracy.

What the heck happened?

It all comes down, I suppose, to a quarrel over that term, ‘democracy’ — a quarrel over how we should live together. These days, it seems as if we aren’t content to just live together in peace and freedom, with decency, respect, and common sense.

Some of this is undoubtedly due to things we can’t easily control, like rapid technological change, the tendency to forget the lessons of the past, and the recurrent popularity of ideas that are, as Mencken put it, ‘clear, simple, and wrong.’

But human nature has not changed. The laws of political and economic behavior have not changed. So, our current complaints are not inevitable. We can counteract them. We can choose to reform and make things better.

The biggest source of our current malaise and our current national quarrels, I believe, is the excessive growth of government, and in particular the relentless growth of socialist wealth redistribution: taking property from A and giving it to B without A’s consent.

That is the root problem. That’s where the errors begin. It’s what foils markets and fuels monopoly and reduces people to dependency and sheepishness and turns them against each other. It’s what distorts institution after institution, law after law, and norm after norm. It’s what screws everything up and makes us miserable and irritable and creates all this unnecessary enmity and suspicion and fear and hatred and self-doubt.

Socialist wealth redistribution, I think, flows directly from a disregard for individual natural rights, that is, from a failure to recognize that we have such rights.

If my property is mine, it is by definition not yours. What right have you to take it? If it’s mine by right, by nature, then you have a duty — a natural duty, a sacred duty decreed by nature herself — not to take it without my consent.

And if you do try to take it without my consent, then I have an equally sacred right to resist. ‘Come and take it.’

In disrespecting natural rights, we’ve let government become too powerful, a power unto itself. And increasingly, it has become a hostile power, hostile to the popular will and to the common good.

The biggest threat to democracy is big government.

A friend of mine once joked, ‘Our ancestors would be shooting by now.’ Probably! But are things really that bad? I hope not. Surely we can resolve our differences peacefully. Surely we can live together as friends and fellow citizens.

And yet.

I refuse to be too optimistic. Something is rotten in the land of the free. Even if you don’t share my sense of alarm, even if you don’t think big government is a problem, it’s hard to disregard the trends.

If we keep going down this same road, the quarrels will only get louder. And at some point, quarrels turn violent or the quarrelers part company and go their separate ways.

If we keep heading in the same direction, we’ll keep approaching the same destination — the end of the American experiment.

To make America America again, we must change direction. We must take a sharp turn. But in which direction? How sharp a turn?

The solution I landed on is neither capitalism nor conservatism nor liberalism, all of which have their indisputable merits, but rather to restore the American Idea, which encompasses all of them and more, and is ultimately humane because, unlike most modern ‘isms,’ it is realistic about human nature.

The American Idea takes the idea of human equality and natural rights to its logical conclusion that government must respect those rights and therefore must be based on the consent of the governed. It is, in a nutshell, the idea of popular sovereignty based on inherent natural rights.

Popular sovereignty means the people must rule the rulers and not the other way around. The rulers must be servants. They may rule legitimately only with the consent of the governred, that is, with the consent of the whole people, as expressed in the will of the majority. Consistent, of course, with the rights of all.

In its ideal form, popular sovereignty means the people rule wisely and well, with equal justice for all and special privileges for none — with governments ‘of laws and not of men.’

In this ideal sense, popular sovereignty gives freedom and happiness room to flourish. It of course includes what we today think of as capitalism and conservatism and liberalism (of the classical variety), but it goes beyond all that.

It makes us a people, a nation distinct from all the others, and yet, because it has nothing to do with race or blood, it is open to anyone who is willing to assimilate and become one of us.

The American Idea starts with the idea that our rights do not come from government, they come from nature, or, if you prefer, from God. It says, I was born a sovereign, and so were you, and therefore you may not rule me without my consent and vice versa.

The most important of our naturla rights are our property rights because they guard and protect our other rights, like speech, conscience, privacy, travel, and so on. Without property rights, all our other rights are vulnerable.

And implicit in these rights is a right to rebel, what the political thinkers call the right of revolution. As sovereigns by nature, we may say no to those who oppress us. We may overthrow a despotic government that won’t reform itself.

The American revolution was lawful, no matter what King George said, because his rule over us required our consent. And by violating our rights and withdrawing his protection from us, and indeed by making war on us, he had thrown away his right to that consent. We were absolved of our obligation to obey him.

The flip side of sovereignty is responsibility. Rights entails duties. Popular sovereignty implies self-government, personal as well as local. We must govern ourselves. Each of us must, individually, govern himself.

And the upshot of all this is that government must be limited.

Ah, but who will do the limiting? Well, look in the mirror.

And by the way, if all these self-evident truths are true, then that’s final. There’s no progressing beyond them. No progressing beyond the truth of human equality. No progressing beyond the truth of inalienable rights and consent of the governed. No going beyond the need for limited government. To go beyond these things is not to go forward, but backward — back toward inequality, injustice, and servitude.

(Perceptive readers will know I’m stealing here from a wonderful Calvin Coolidge speech — a great president.)

Our modern progressives are in fact regressives. They think the best way forward is backward, toward oligarchy and servitude, and, one suspects, with themselves perpetually in the oligarchical chair, coming up with a new ‘reform’ every day, but without any grounding in permanent, unchanging principles of justice or nature.

They don’t care what we do, as long as it’s mandatory.

To make a long story short, I decided that the most important source of big government, and thus of American decline, is over-centralization. Too much power in too few hands. And so the remedy must be — can you guess? — decentralization.

The American Idea was a new idea based on very old principles. What made it new, and what makes America exceptional, was that it combined the ideas of popular sovereignty and limited government and decentralization of power in a new and a solid, practical way.

So, anyway, the remedy seems clear: we need to take over, and we need to break things up. We need to break up the excessive concentrations of power. Break up the monopolies, public and private. Stand up for the little guy against the heartless corporation. Stand with the citizen and the consumer against the faceless bureaucrat. Be pro-market and not just pro-business.

In short, disperse economic, political, and institutional power into as many hands as possible, without lapsing into anarchy.

In more mundane terms, I realized, we have to restore things like federalism and the separation of powers and the rights of property and contract, without, to be sure, shortchanging equal justice or civil rights.

To some, those old concepts may seem outdated. They’re certainly old-fashioned. But it’s a mistake to underestimate or disparage them. What could be more exciting than self-rule? What could be more thrilling personal sovereignty?

I don’t think those old ideas of the Founders have been tried and found wanting. I think they’ve been tried and found successful — and, for some people, inconvenient and thus unwelcome.

The American Idea is the only idea that can save us. It’s the only way back to national and individual happiness, the only way to reverse American decline. It’s the only way to renew the promise of American life. Show me a different idea, and I’ll show you why it’s insufficient.

At some point, perhaps around 2013, Michael Farris, founder of Patrick Henry College, told me something that struck me. He said government’s purpose is very simple, namely, to protect our rights to life, liberty, and property, and to punish those who violate those rights, and that’s it. 

Government, he added, does not exist to take care of our needs, it exists to protect our right to take care of our needs. I almost laughed. He nailed it.

Mulling on that, I asked myself, So what’s the purpose of the Constitution? To ensure that government does those things, and only those things. Or to put it another way, to preserve the Revolution — the revolution from a monarchy to a republic, or what we today call democracy.

And on a deeper level, the Constitution’s purpose is to enshrine the universal principles on which that revolution is based, the principles so eloquently stated in the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence. ‘We hold these truths.’

My reading of, and about, the Constitution awakened me to the fact that the document rests on four pillars and — this came as a welcome discovery — only four. They are: republicanism, federalism, separation of powers, and enumeration of powers. Every word in the document can be read as either flowing from, or shoring up, one of those four things.

But there’s a flip side. Like pillars in the real world, they only work together. Knock one out, any one, and the others won’t be able to stand the strain forever. Eventually, they’ll all fail. And there goes your Revolution.

So, at the risk of being repetitive, to reverse American decline and renew the promise of American life, we need a popular revolution to reclaim popular sovereignty, decentralize our institutions, and make room for virtue and happiness to flourish again in this remarkable land.

That, at least, is my working hypothesis.

Which brings me to the ‘plan.’ Let’s turn to that.

The thing ended up, as I say, consisting of dozens of specific recommendations, which I grouped into ‘planks.’

You can read it all for yourself. But I want to highlight three of them, the most important ones — the super-planks, if you will — the ones concerning judicial reform, tax reform, and honest money. If we can secure those three, most of the rest will eventually follow, some almost automatically.

Tax reform and honest money will tend to produce balanced budgets, which will lead to reductions in the size and scope of government.

Ending judicial usurpation will facilitate our ability to limit government and keep it limited.

And the sustained return of limited government will create space for the revival of local self-government and, who knows, maybe even the joys and virtues of small-town life. (Hey, a man can dream.)

Basically, I propose we restore the constitutional principles of James Madison and revive the tax and monetary policies of William McKinley to make it possible to resurrect the decent and flourishing America of Norman Rockwell and Frank Capra. Does that sound crazy? I suppose it must. But why not? Is there a better idea?

Now, if you force me to choose just one plank to top the list, I’d have to go with honest money. Without that, I’m not sure any of the others is sustainable. It’s hard to permanently limit a government that retains an unlimited power to extract resources from the people through a magical printing press.

So, let’s prioritize that. Prioritize forcing the government to prioritize, by ending its ability to expand the money supply at will.

What will happen? A general retrenchment of government activity, and a corresponding expansion of personal liberty and self-reliance. It’s as close to a mathematical certainty as you can get in these things.

And watch what happens. Budgets come into balance, debt shrinks, the economy heals and thrives. More importantly, power begins to flow back to where it belongs. Back from Washington to the states. Back from the non-legislative branches to Congress. And ultimately from the monopolies back the people. And then it becomes possible for us to live as free men and women again.

Are those outcomes inevitable? Maybe not. But they’re more likely.

Now, without unlimited resources, the feds will look for other ways to retain their power. They’ll shift to doing more through regulations and mandates. The property they can’t take, they’ll try to control. Okay. We’ll just have to cut them off at the pass. And I think we can — with a pair of simple constitutional amendments.

I started out determined not to amend the Constitution. There’s nothing in the document itself that’s fundamentally flawed. We already have the guide book for national happiness, we just have to follow it.

(A wag once suggested that all we need to do, after each sentence in the Constitution, is insert the words, ‘and we mean it.’)

But I reluctantly realized we do have to amend it. Our rulers won’t follow the guide book until forced to do so, and that won’t happen until their incentives change. And that requires peaceful change through constitutional amendment.

The following two amendments, I think, would shore up the four pillars and spark the virtuous cycle:

A majority of the state legislatures may repeal any federal law or regulation

and

A majority of the state legislatures, representing a majority of citizens of the United States, is needed to approve an increase in the national debt

That’s it.

Of course, the amendments would need additional words to guide implementation and prevent misinterpretation. We’d want, for example, to prevent states from repealing a state admission act. But that’s the essence.

Why the states? Because they’re the only element in the system that can exert pressure from the outside, like a flying buttress. The three federal branches can’t do it because they’re inside.

Why put such a tight leash on debt? Because Uncle Sam will not reform his ways voluntarily. He needs an accountability partner, a co-signer. And the states are the only entity that can be trusted, and have the incentive, to provide that security.

Now, if it turns out I’m wrong, if we add these amendments and they don’t work, then I reluctantly conclude that we may need a third and final amendment — but, to be clear, only as a last resort, and only in a scenario where the federal courts are the roadblock to American renewal. Something along the following lines:

Each state fills one seat on the U.S. Supreme Court, with each justice serving no more than ____ years

(This, too, is from Farris. Personally, I’d fill in the blank with ‘twelve.’)

Now, this amendment will probably never be needed, and I hope it won’t. With the first two amendments, the courts will surely get the memo. Congress and the president will have both the ability and, more importantly, the incentive to resume their proper roles — and drag the Court along with them. But if things don’t pan out that way, well, then, we should reluctantly break the glass and call in the states to install a third, and I hope final, flying buttress.

Realistically, Congress will never propose any amendment that reduces its own power. But the states can. They can propose such an amendment through an Article V convention. And that’s probably how it will happen, most likely in the wake of a national catastrophe. There has not yet been a convention of states for proposing amendments under Article V, but there have been plenty of state conventions, both before and after 1787, that provide us with the model for how to conduct such a meeting. The most recent was the Washington Peace Convention of 1861.

The Founders gave us the convention-of-states option for use as a last resort, and the time has come to use it.

(I’ve explained elsewhere why I think fears of such a convention ‘running away’ and ‘totally rewriting the Constitution’ are entirely misplaced.)

I also suggest three lesser constitutional amendments, relating to specific policy matters, namely, national lands, social security, and D.C. statehood. I suggest them only because they seem unavoidable if we’re to get right with the Constitution in terms of enumerated powers — to fully align our practice with our principles. If we could address those issues with ordinary legislation, I’d prefer it.

Additionally, I suggest two constitutional changes that I think are not strictly necessary but would be good to have, namely, one to remove Congress’s power to impose income taxes, and one to revise the dates of federal elections and swearings-in, to eliminate lame duck sessions and to shorten presidential transitions. But these are not essential.

And finally, I suggest an amendment on the definition of birthright citizenship, to be pursued only if the Supreme Court gets that important issue wrong.

So, for readers who have lost count, I suggest a total of nine amendments, which I would classify as follows: two essential, three seemingly unavoidable, two nice to have, and one only in case of need — and one if all else fails.

So much for not amending the Constitution!

There’s more to the plan, as you’ll see. A lot more. Immigration. Regulation. Ballot integrity. The territories. Governmental reorganization. Sorry. Once you start, it’s hard to stop.

But the heart of it is the three super-planks and the two flying-buttress amendments. Achieve those, and as far as I’m concerned, our work is done.

I’m sure this must all sound bonkers. But then, we live in a bonkers age.

In the context of American history and the present crises, I think it is pretty moderate. To be sure, it is radical, in the sense of going to the root. But then, it seeks a balance between the minimum that’s needed and the most that’s achievable, consistent with our history, traditions, and principles.

The plan is comprehensive, unavoidably so, but also incrementalist, like a blueprint that proposes nothing new but rather makes many small but sensible changes to restore what the original architects intended.

We do not have to make every bit of it happen. But we do have to do something. And we have to start somewhere. So, let’s start. Let’s push a first domino and see what happens.

The more we decentralize, the more quickly the magic of decentralization can do its work. The momentum will grow. Things will get easier. We’ll find ourselves galloping.

Have I answered my question? Decide for yourself. But if these answers are not the right ones — help us find better ones.

Renewing the promise of American life wil not be easy. It will be hard. It will take effort and patience and sacrifice. But if we succeed, the blessings for ourselves and our posterity will be awesome.

And given the alternative — the end of the American experiment — why not try?

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