Guest Essayist: Amanda Hughes

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The discovery and application of electricity was one of the many advances in America buttressed by the Declaration of Independence and United States Constitution for success. 

To appreciate the advancement of industry in the United States that involves development of electricity, it is important to appreciate the minds of America’s Founders as they applied lessons from history to their current situation. 

A list of grievances specified by the Founders against the British King addressed, among other things, George III destroyed industry, invention, advancement, and civilization of the American states. From overtaxation to blocked trade to bureaucratic red tape that placed a stranglehold on the new country, 27 grievances supported the Founders’ resolve in 1776 for just government. Examples of these grievances from the Declaration of Independence demonstrate their reasoning for completely dissolving political bands from the Crown: 

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

Due to these acts of war, the American colonies broke off from tyranny by breaking away from any crown. Doing so provided them self-governing republicanism. Upon the Declaration’s closing words, America’s Founders reinforced the purpose, source, and sustainment of their independence, therefore safeguarding industry and development. It offered af government by the consent of the governed. Note these words were adopted July 4, 1776, during the American Revolutionary War which occurred from 1775 to 1783: 

…contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor. 

In 1787, America’s self-governing document, the Constitution, reinforced the principles of the Declaration of Independence of 1776. Under the clause pertaining to Copyright and Patent law, Article I, Section 8, Clause 8 of the United States Constitution reads:

To promote the progress of science and useful arts by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries;

Without consent of the governed, freedom to develop ideas into realized inventions ends at the point of thought. Harnessing electricity, for example, and using it to prosper the country was made possible because of the type of government America chose to form. Without government protection of liberty to invent and the patents protecting the intellectual property of patents, the United States would have no computers, smart phones, refrigerators, all kinds of products used every day—including factories for making such inventions—that function by means of electricity.

Inventions using electricity improved American living conditions as they developed over time. These ideas keep businesses open and factories running, resulting in widespread prosperity. 

Some of the early American contributors to the development of electricity were Benjamin Franklin in the 1700s, and Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla in the 1800s.

Once the Constitution was ratified, no time was wasted exercising its substance. 

Just a little over a year after George Washington was sworn in on April 30, 1789, as the first President of the United States, on July 31, 1790, he signed the first U.S. Patent. Since the 1940s, the number of patents held at the U.S. Department of Energy exceeds 34,000.

Thomas Edison invented the light bulb and had it patented in 1880. This example defending freedom to invent led to the first power plant, the Pearl Street Station located in lower Manhattan, New York, which opened in 1882. “New vistas for electricity will always be there for people to discover, but that discovery will require the freedom to inspire new inventions.”

Such ingenuity to experiment, build and compete did not come easy. The American Founders knew they risked their lives to form a new, sovereign, independent nation. America’s founding documents were crafted to lay the foundation for genius to be discovered through experiment that brought about the Industrial Revolution. This made maintaining a developed civilization attainable. Inventors and innovative entrepreneurs could thus take risks and push the boundaries of discovery.

Through a system designed on consent of the governed, or self-rule, the ideas of American republican, constitutional government set the stage for discovery, invention, and innovation. It opened doors for historic freedom to prosper. Life-saving advances in medicine, space exploration, a secure homeland, and so much more are made possible because of these principles. 

 

Amanda Hughes is author of Who Wants to Be Free? on faith, freedom and the importance of voting, and a writer for HillFaith.org. She is a story contributor for the anthologies Loving Moments and Moments with Billy Graham. She was honored to serve as editor for her father’s book of life stories, Adventures, Wit & Wisdom: The Life & Times of Charlie Hughes. Amanda formerly served as 90-Day Study Director for Constituting America. She received her B.A. from Texas State University and M.A. from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.


Click here
 to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: James Pinkerton

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Nikola Tesla was one of the greatest geniuses of American history. His brilliance strengthened the greatest document of American history, the Constitution. Tesla was born in Serbia in 1856, and showed early talent as an engineer. As a result, he was recruited to come to the U.S., in 1884, to work for legendary inventor Thomas Edison. Tesla became a U.S. citizen in 1891. 

Yet by then Tesla was no longer working for Edison, because he had a better idea than his boss. Edison had plenty of smarts (he invented the light bulb, for example) and yet he could also be stubborn. On the crucial issue of electricity distribution—all those lightbulbs needed juice—Edison was convinced that DC (direct current) was best. 

Yet DC suffered from bad energy inefficiency, and so it required a power station every few miles. By contrast, the AC (alternating current) system used transformers to step up the voltage for transmission, dramatically increasing efficiency. Then the transformers would step down the voltage for safe use in households and businesses. The young Tesla did not invent AC, and yet his polyphase induction motor made AC much more feasible. 

By the 1890s, entrepreneurs such as George Westinghouse were using Tesla’s patented technology, proving that AC worked better. A good lesson was that the genius of Edison, or anyone, is not the final word. In a free and open system, others with better ideas can also step forward, taking their shot to prove themselves in the competitive marketplace. That’s how the best ideas emerge. 

Indeed, it’s hard to imagine what the course of American history would have been like in the absence of AC. With only DC, Americans would have needed small power plants every few miles, everywhere, with all the attendant expense and mess. And so it’s possible that many Americans, especially in rural areas, would never have had electricity at all. Instead, thanks to AC, a big power plant could be built and provide low-cost electricity to a whole region, rural and urban alike. 

So we see the good workings of capitalism. And it also works to strengthen constitutionalism. How so? Just as electrical power is better when it can be widely distributed, so, too, with political power. 

This is the constitutional principle of the separation of powers, well articulated by James Madison, principal author of the Constitution, in a 1788 article advocating for the Constitution. In that piece, known as Federalist 51, Madison described the “compound republic of America,” in which power was separated, in several ways. There would be a central government, divided into three branches—legislative, executive, judicial—and that separated power, in turn, would be further separated, and shared, with the states. “Hence a double security arises to the rights of the people,” Madison wrote, “It is of great importance in a republic not only to guard the society against the oppression of its rulers, but to guard one part of the society against the injustice of the other part.” 

The key idea was to make sure power was separated, and so distributed—not all held by one person, or one city, or even one region. 

Thomas Jefferson was a companion to Madison who envisioned an America boasting a big middle class of independent property owners. President Jefferson’s Louisiana Purchase of 1803, which doubled the size of the U.S., was in keeping with his broad plan for personal agency, popular sovereignty, and self-rule. 

Yet the limited technology of the era threatened this distributive vision. 

Even before the Constitution was ratified on June 21, 1788, critics, known as Anti-Federalists, warned that geographic distance would cripple the new republic; they emphasized “the feebleness of the ties by which these United States are held together.” 

Indeed, if communication across distance were limited to letters carried on horseback, it was difficult to see how the U.S. could defend without keeping standing armies on every frontier—and the mere existence of such hulking armed forces would, in turn, threaten liberty. 

Happily, in the early 19th century, another American inventor-entrepreneur, Samuel Morse, developed the telegraph, which connected the country while still preserving liberty. In fact, empowered communication helped make Americans more free. 

Later in that same century, Tesla came along to help provide power to the people of 38 states at the time. Over the course of his long life, Tesla did much more than that, of course, proving that in America, an immigrant with gumption and brains can work wonders. As today’s electric automobile proves, even decades after his death, Tesla still inspires. Yet the greatest wonder of all is the harmonious fusion of invention that gives each citizen both technological and political power. 

 

Jim Pinkerton was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and serves as a Senior Fellow in the Center for American Prosperity at the America First Policy Institute. He worked in the Domestic Policy Office at the White House under presidents Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush and in their 1980, 1984, 1988, and 1992 presidential campaigns. In 2008, he served as a senior adviser to Mike Huckabee’s presidential campaign. 

From 1996–2016, Jim was a Contributor to the Fox News Channel. He has also written for The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Financial Times, and The Los Angeles Times. 

Today, Jim writes regularly for Breitbart, The American Conservative, and The Daily Caller. He is married to our very own Elizabeth Pinkerton and is a graduate of Stanford University. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Caleb Franz

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Americans have been fascinated with the power and possibilities associated with electricity since well before we declared our independence from the British. In June 1752, Benjamin Franklin conducted his famous kite experiment in Philadelphia during a thunderstorm. With the help of his son William, he attached a wire to the top of his silk kite and a key on the other end. In the midst of a storm cloud, the kite captured an electrical current sending it to the key near the ground. Through his sensational experiment, he demonstrated the connection between lightning and electricity in a dramatic fashion. 

Franklin’s kite experiment captured the imagination of his then fellow colonists and the broader scientific community alike. As he continued to study and experiment with electrical properties, he often presented his findings to the general public to their great amusement, employing parlor tricks to demonstrate his fantastic discoveries. However, his study of electricity resulted in more than just entertainment. One of his inventions, the lightning rod, redirected lightning to the ground rather than having it strike homes during thunderstorms. Benjamin Franklin’s invention still protects structures from damage today. He wanted to protect lives, and did not take out a patent for his invention for the common benefit. 

It’s no mistake that an explosion of innovation and scientific discovery in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by scientists like Franklin coincided with the American Revolution. As the scientific community sought a better understanding of the invisible forces holding the world together, like gravity and electricity, many of our preconceived ideas about the natural world were uprooted. For Americans, it was a short jump from scientific inquiry to an upheaval in political thinking. The American colonists not only severed their political bands with Great Britain in 1776, they also abandoned the political concepts of the old world. Monarchy and aristocracy were replaced with democracy and meritocracy. 

After the revolution, Franklin’s spirit of innovation and discovery loomed large in the new nation. Throughout the early 1800s, the young nation exploded with transformational inventions and new industries. There was a general belief that this kind of economic progress would empower the people, equipping them to best govern themselves. Technological leaps in the industries of transportation, mechanics, agriculture, and communication helped bind the country together into a more powerful Union. 

This was especially true in the wake of the Civil War. With the Union victory and the abolition of slavery, the nation underwent yet another explosion in technology and innovation. This time, the prior technological transformations of the nineteenth century intersected with the practical application of electricity. On November 4, 1879, Thomas Edison filed a patent for the first commercially visible incandescent lightbulb. With this milestone invention, homes, factories, and businesses could be lit with electricity, replacing kerosene lamps. It accelerated people’s productivity, and made for safer working and living conditions. 

It was not a seamless transition, however. Such a seismic shift in energy consumption required infrastructure. Edison opened the Pearl Street Station, the first commercial electric utility plant, in New York City in 1882. It was a coal-fired power plant that produced direct current electricity. Direct current (DC) electricity was reliable at a low voltage, but ultimately could not travel very far, requiring an electric plant within a few miles. 

Nikola Tesla, who worked for Edison in 1884, believed that alternating current (AC) was the superior mode of transmitting electricity across large stretches of land using just one power plant. It was a point of disagreement between Edison and Tesla that grew into a heated rivalry as Tesla went to work with Edison’s competitor, George Westinghouse, in 1888. 

Ultimately, Tesla was proven correct in his assessment that alternating current was far more efficient for widespread usage. During the World’s Columbian Exposition held in Chicago in 1893, Tesla and Westinghouse demonstrated the efficacy of alternating current over Edison’s direct current by powering the fair with it. To further put the debate to rest, Westinghouse built a hydroelectric power plant using Tesla alternating current system at Niagara Falls, which provided power over 25 miles away to the people of Buffalo, New York. 

Following the successful demonstrations of Tesla’s system, the country was transformed in a way few could have imagined when Franklin was presenting his electric parlor tricks to curious colonists nearly 150 years earlier. The widespread adoption of alternating current benefitted the people with more efficient travel and communication, and helped build America into a global economic superpower in the 20th century. 

 

Caleb Franz has served as Program Manager at Young Voices since 2021 and is a scholar with the Bluegrass Institute. He’s also the author of THE CONDUCTOR: The Story of Rev. John Rankin, Abolitionism’s Essential Founding Father, released on October 15, 2024 through Post Hill Press. He’s currently working on a forthcoming biography about the early years of Ulysses S. Grant, set for release in 2028. Caleb’s work has been featured in various outlets including TIME, RealClear History, the Washington Examiner, the Independent, Religion and Liberty, and the Louisville Courier Journal, among others. Before this work, Caleb served in the U.S. Army through the Ohio National Guard for six years, which included one tour in Kuwait.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Peter Roff

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Washington, D.C. – The founders believed they had presided over the creation not just of a new nation but a new nationality: tougher, simpler, and less refined than their European forebears. These new Americans would be animated by the challenge of conquering first an Empire, then a continent, imbued with a spirit of what 19th-century philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson would refer to as “self-reliance.”

As virtuous as the exposés of muckrakers like Upton Sinclair and Ida Tarbell might seem to us looking backward, when they were published they added fuel to the progressive fires already undermining the values of the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution.

Thomas Jefferson’s use of the phrase “pursuit of happiness” – borrowed from British philosopher John Locke, who, in developing the idea of a social contract between the citizens and their government, referenced “life, liberty, and the pursuit of property” – is not meant to convey an image of joyful post-colonialists chasing pleasure throughout their new nation. It instead refers to a continuing state of social and civic good that it is the duty of every American to reinforce in our daily actions. 

Broadly expressed, that can be taken to mean our national ideal is based on the idea of “looking out for the other guy” and their interests while chasing your own share of the American Dream. We are not so much “communitarian” as we are a community, something de Tocqueville expounded upon perceptively in his landmark study “Democracy in America.”

The progressive tendencies unleashed at the end of the 19th century, brought to fruition during the presidency of Woodrow Wilson, with the apparent consent of the american people, gave birth to an administrative state that, ever so slowly, has stripped away pieces of our liberty and our responsibility to our neighbors. 

No one wants “bad meat” to be sold to consumers, especially those who lack the resources to be choosy about where they shop or the education to make informed choices. At least that’s the rationale underlying the regulatory regimes created to enforce the provisions of the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906 and other measures that established federal agencies overseeing inspection regimes intended to protect us from evil commercial suppliers only interested in profit.

Think about that. Is that really a business model that makes sense? Who among us thinks that killing your customer is a way to earn repeat business? Not to mention how that rhetoric exploits class divisions, as followers of Karl Marx would later do in turning neighbor against neighbor and countryman against countryman. In societies such as those, all men are not created equal. Some, as George Orwell would later explain in his classic Animal Farm, “are more equal than others.”

The motivation behind such legislation was likely altruistic, as it is today, when well-meaning and virtuous people suggest that various industries need even more regulation to protect the cleanliness and safety of the workplace, our environment, our healthcare system, and, yes, our multi-billion-dollar agricultural industry, which includes meat processing. 

When those concerns are put ahead of individual rights and liberties, as well as jobs and communities, as is often the case, the crisis created by the regulatory state that spawned from the works of writers like Upton Sinclair becomes clear. We do not need nor do we want beneficent, impartial government functionaries to be responsible for overseeing the choices we make in life. Aside from the fact that no such animal exists in the real world, it infringes on our freedom of personal choice. Our fundamental rights and our need to be responsible for ourselves as a self-governing people are why the Bill of Rights expressly reserves all powers not granted to the federal government to the states or the people of the states, as the 10th Amendment makes clear. 

The founders did not intend for the federal government to be a national regulator of commercial enterprise, which is one reason why the Constitution includes its “commerce clause.” The people have rights not spelled out in our founding documents, as the 9th Amendment explains explicitly, including the right to be left alone as and if they choose. The regulatory swamp created by popular consent as lawmakers were influenced by books like The Jungle interferes with that.

 

Peter Roff is a contributing editor at Newsweek and a Senior Fellow at several Washington-based public policy organizations. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Andrew Langer

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The Declaration of Independence affirms that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.” This principle is often understood in terms of elections and representation, but it rests on a more fundamental requirement: the people must possess sufficient knowledge of the conditions under which they live to give meaningful consent. Where information is obscured, incomplete, or inaccessible, consent becomes attenuated—reduced to form rather than substance. In the early twentieth century, Upton Sinclair played a pivotal role in exposing conditions that were largely hidden from public view. While Sinclair’s work helped catalyze public demand for government action, the long-term preservation of self-rule required mechanisms—such as the notice-and-comment process—that transform public reaction into disciplined, informed consent.

At its core, self-government depends upon an informed citizenry. Individuals must be able to assess risks, evaluate the actions of institutions, and make choices—both political and economic—based on reasonably accurate information. Without such awareness, participation in markets and in governance becomes compromised. Consumers cannot make informed decisions, and voters cannot meaningfully judge the actions of those in power. In this sense, transparency is not merely a desirable feature of a free society; it is an essential condition for the exercise of liberty.

The rapid industrialization of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries created new challenges for this principle. As production became more complex and geographically concentrated, the distance between producer and consumer widened. Goods were no longer made in small, visible settings, but in large, often opaque industrial facilities. This transformation brought significant economic benefits, but it also introduced a profound information asymmetry. Consumers, increasingly removed from the processes that produced the goods they purchased, had little ability to observe or evaluate the conditions under which those goods were made.

This gap in knowledge created a corresponding gap in consent. Individuals were participating in an economic system whose inner workings were largely invisible to them. They could not easily determine whether products were safe, whether production methods were sanitary, or whether risks were being managed responsibly. In such an environment, the ability of the public to exercise informed judgment—whether through purchasing decisions or political action—was significantly constrained.

Sinclair’s own life helped shape his sensitivity to these problems. Born in Baltimore in 1878, he experienced both poverty through his father’s unstable circumstances and relative affluence through visits with his mother’s prosperous family. Moving to New York while still young, he supported himself by writing while attending the City College of New York and later studying at Columbia University. These experiences exposed him to stark economic contrasts and reinforced his conviction that ordinary Americans often lacked the information necessary to understand the institutions shaping their lives.

It was into this context that Upton Sinclair undertook his work. By the early twentieth century, Sinclair had already established himself as a prolific young writer whose growing interest in social reform led him to investigate the conditions faced by industrial workers firsthand. Rather than relying solely on secondhand accounts, he immersed himself in the environments he sought to describe, believing that careful observation was essential to exposing realities the broader public could not otherwise see.

Sinclair was not a regulator, nor was he a policymaker. He was, rather, an investigator and a writer who sought to bring hidden conditions into the public eye. His efforts were marked by persistence and a willingness to immerse himself in environments that many would have preferred to ignore. By documenting the realities of industrial food production, Sinclair aimed to reveal aspects of the modern economy that had remained largely concealed from the public.

Sinclair spent weeks working undercover and conducting extensive research in Chicago’s meatpacking district before writing The Jungle, seeking to ground his fictional narrative in careful observation of actual industrial conditions. The publication of The Jungle brought these conditions to widespread attention. Readers were confronted with vivid descriptions of practices that raised serious concerns about sanitation and safety in the production of food. The reaction was swift and intense. Public awareness gave way to public alarm, and public alarm translated into political pressure. Citizens demanded that their government respond to the conditions that had been exposed.

It is important, however, to understand both the power and the limits of this reaction. Sinclair himself famously remarked that he had aimed at the public’s heart and hit it in the stomach. The emotional force of his writing galvanized attention, but it also underscored a key reality: public reaction, while powerful, is not always precise. Emotional responses can amplify concerns, but they do not necessarily provide a clear or balanced foundation for policy. Outrage can identify a problem, but it does not, on its own, produce well-calibrated solutions.

Nevertheless, the exposure of these conditions marked a turning point. Public awareness made inaction untenable, and the federal government responded with new measures aimed at ensuring food safety. These developments were part of a broader period of regulatory expansion in the United States, in which growing complexity and public demand led to the creation of new institutions and frameworks for oversight. Sinclair’s work did not dictate the specific contours of these policies, but it played a critical role in bringing the underlying issues to light.

At this juncture, a distinction becomes essential. There is a meaningful difference between public reaction and public consent. Reaction is immediate and often emotional; consent, in the context of a republic, must be more deliberate and informed. If policy is driven solely by reaction, it risks being shaped by incomplete information or transient pressures. For self-government to function effectively, there must be mechanisms that allow public concerns to be expressed, examined, and refined.

This is where the development of structured processes for public participation becomes significant. In the decades following the initial wave of regulatory expansion, the United States established formal procedures to guide how regulations are developed and implemented. Among the most important of these is the notice-and-comment process, through which agencies propose rules, invite input from the public, and are required to consider and respond to that input before finalizing their decisions.

The notice-and-comment process serves several critical functions. It creates an opportunity for citizens, businesses, and other stakeholders to provide information, raise concerns, and offer recommendations. It requires agencies to engage with these contributions, fostering a level of transparency and accountability that strengthens the legitimacy of regulatory actions. Importantly, it also helps to distinguish between different types of input. Public comments may range from highly technical analyses to expressions of personal concern or broad statements of opinion. The process does not eliminate this diversity, but it channels it into a structured framework where it can be evaluated more systematically.

In this sense, notice-and-comment can be understood as an institutionalization of consent. It does not replace the role of elected representatives, nor does it guarantee perfect outcomes. What it does is provide a mechanism through which public reaction can be transformed into more disciplined, informed participation. It encourages the submission of evidence, the articulation of reasoning, and the consideration of competing perspectives. In doing so, it helps ensure that regulatory decisions are not merely responses to momentary pressures, but are grounded in a broader and more deliberate engagement with the public.

Seen in this light, Sinclair’s contribution takes on a particular significance. His work helped initiate a process by which hidden conditions were brought into public awareness. That awareness, in turn, generated the demand for action. But the preservation of self-rule required more than exposure; it required the development of processes that could translate awareness into informed decision-making. Sinclair helped make consent possible by illuminating what had been concealed. Processes like notice-and-comment help make that consent meaningful by structuring how the public’s voice is incorporated into governance.

This balance remains essential. Too little opportunity for public input risks technocratic decision-making that is disconnected from the concerns of the people. Too much reliance on unstructured reaction risks policies that are unstable or poorly calibrated. A functioning republic must navigate between these extremes, ensuring both that the public is heard and that its input is engaged in a disciplined and thoughtful manner.

The relevance of these principles extends to the present day. Modern communication technologies have dramatically increased the speed and volume of information available to the public. Issues can gain national attention almost instantaneously, and public reaction can be swift and widespread. Yet the fundamental challenge remains the same: distinguishing between reaction and informed judgment. The need for structured processes that can channel public input into effective governance is, if anything, more pressing in an age of rapid information flow.

Ultimately, the principle of consent of the governed depends not only on the ability of citizens to express their views, but on the conditions that make those views informed and meaningful. Upton Sinclair’s work stands as a reminder of the importance of exposing hidden realities and ensuring that the public is not excluded from knowledge that affects its well-being. At the same time, the evolution of processes like notice-and-comment underscores the necessity of transforming awareness into structured participation.

The enduring lesson is that self-government requires both the awakening of public concern and the institutions that refine that concern into informed consent. Sinclair helped bring the former into being. The development of procedural frameworks for public input has made the latter possible. Together, they illustrate how a republic can move from reaction to reasoned self-rule, preserving the principle that government ultimately derives its authority from a people that is both informed and engaged.

 

Andrew is a seasoned broadcaster and public policy professional with more than 15 years of experience in radio, television and online media, and more than three decades in public policy. Currently, he serves as Director of the Center for Regulatory Freedom at the CPAC Foundation, as well as the Executive Director of the Coalition Against Socialized Medicine, drawing from his more than three decades in public policy and politics in those roles.

Since 2011, he has worked as a talk radio host, filling in for nationally-syndicated and major-market radio shows, like WMAL in Washington, DC. In addition to his radio work, he hosts several podcasts, including the Federal Newswires “Lunch Hour” podcast and “Andrew and Jerry Save the World.”He has been named one of Maryland’s top political influencers, has testified before Congress on regulatory issues more than two dozen times and in state legislatures around the country. A graduate of William & Mary with a degree in international relations, he holds a Masters in Public Administration from Troy University. He has also taught regulatory policy at the university level.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Reeve Bull

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

If you like hamburgers, I would not recommend Upton Sinclair’s 1906 novel The Jungle.  Its appalling depiction of the early 20th-century Chicago meatpacking industry is enough to churn the stomach of even the most dedicated carnivore.

An avowed socialist, Sinclair’s motivation in writing it was to turn the public against a capitalist system that he felt oppressed the working man.  He did not succeed in winning the public over to socialism, but his graphic prose still caught people’s attention.  Mere months after The Jungle hit the presses, the U.S. Congress passed the Meat Inspection Act and Pure Food and Drug Act, the latter of which created the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

As Sinclair himself put it, “I aimed at the public’s heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach.”

If you read The Jungle in high school civics, it was likely presented as a triumph of the public interest.  And it certainly was that.  It shows that “We the People” can bring about significant changes just by making our voices heard.  Public opinion helped spur quick and durable congressional action.  Over a hundred years later, a visit to a modern meatpacking plant may not be anyone’s idea of a fun field trip, but it would (thankfully) prove a lot more boring.

The history of The Jungle illustrates just one of the ways that people can influence the law.  In that case, a high-profile author generated enough public outcry to get the attention of members of Congress, who then handed power over to food scientists and other experts in order to determine what needed to be done to clean up the industry.

But when the Founders drafted the Declaration of Independence and, later, the Constitution, they envisioned a role for “We the People” that involved far more than merely deferring to “the experts” to pass good laws.  Benjamin Franklin famously described the new government as “a Republic, if you can keep it,” meaning the people were to play the key role in ensuring that their elected representatives acted in the public interest.

And as the modern regulatory state took shape over the course of the 20th century, Congress and the courts tried (with varying levels of success) to maintain the same checks and balances and democratic safeguards that made the Constitution so successful.  For example, in 1946, Congress passed a law that required regulatory agencies to solicit and consider public comments when drafting a new regulation.  And in recent years, the federal courts have been increasingly emphatic that the people’s elected representatives in Congress, rather than unelected bureaucrats, must be the ones making important policy decisions.

By ensuring that the people play a critical role in regulatory decisions, regulatory reformers are drawing on an insight that would have been very familiar to the Founders: knowledge is dispersed throughout society, and every single one of us is an “expert” in how the law affects him personally.  Though our society has become far more complex in the ensuing centuries, the basic principle holds.  Laws informed by the people are far more sophisticated than those cooked up by a bureaucrat acting from a distant capital.

Like those who came before, we must be active participants in this ongoing experiment in self-government.  It is not enough simply to hear about a problem and call upon Washington bureaucrats to act.  Each of us bears a solemn responsibility to study the problems confronting us, elect representatives who offer the best solutions, and hold those representatives to account at the voting booth.

We also should not be afraid to call for an overhaul of the regulatory state when it strays from the principles of limited and representative government that undergird the Constitution.  Recent Supreme Court decisions have at least partially restored Congress’s critical role in setting policy, though much work remains to be done.  And state and local governments have developed the capacity to reclaim at least some of the powers taken over by the federal government over the years.

The Jungle is but one example of how a highly motivated citizen can speak out, influence his fellow Americans, and bring about meaningful change.  The rise of the internet and social media significantly expands our ability to play a similar role, albeit on a more limited scale.  A modern Upton Sinclair is far more likely to be an unknown blogger advocating change that may influence the local school board or city council.

But that bottom-up model was precisely what the Founders intended.  The last 250 years of American history have time and again reaffirmed their insight that the most meaningful social change is usually the result of thousands of anonymous citizens quietly working to leave the world a slightly better place than they found it.

 

Reeve T. Bull is the Policy Director of the Fulcrum Foundation and a Senior Advisor with the Recoding America Fund. He recently finished his term as the Deputy Director of Virginia’s Office of Regulatory Management. Prior to this role, he was Research Director of the Administrative Conference of the United States.  He is an elected member of the American Law Institute and a Public Member of the Administrative Conference of the United States.

 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Monopolies have long been viewed with suspicion under Anglo-American law. In the 1602 Case of Monopolies, the Court of Queen’s Bench declared void a monopoly grant by Elizabeth I for the importation of playing cards. The court reasoned that monopolies harmed individuals by preventing skilled tradesmen from pursuing their trade. In addition, they harmed the public because the monopolist would raise prices, yet have no incentive to increase or even maintain the quality of the goods. Not long thereafter, in 1624, Parliament passed the Statute of Monopolies, which broadly forbade the practice of issuing royal patents. 

Americans also looked askance at monopolies for the reasons mentioned in the English case. Justice Stephen Field gave voice to this thinking in a powerful dissent in the Slaughterhouse Cases in 1873. Denouncing the Supreme Court’s failure to declare void a Louisiana grant of a slaughterhouse monopoly, Field asserted that, at the time of American independence, it was part of the fundamental law that “every free subject in the British empire was entitled to pursue his happiness by following any of the known established trades and occupations of the country,” which could not be restrained by government-created monopolies. That principle, he argued, was included in the Declaration of Independence among those inalienable rights which constituted liberty and the pursuit of happiness and “which are the gift of the Creator.” Field also invoked the original Constitution and the Fourteenth Amendment, whose texts protected the privileges and immunities of citizens.  He approvingly quoted another case that “it is one of the privileges of every American citizen to adopt and follow such lawful industrial pursuit, not injurious to the community, as he may see fit, … without being restricted by any of those unjust, oppressive, and odious monopolies or exclusive privileges which have been condemned by all free governments.”

Congress responded with the Interstate Commerce Act of 1887. The statute proved to be of little practical impact initially. While the new Act made rates illegal that were not reasonable and prohibited certain unpopular practices, such as rate-fixing and discriminatory rates between long and short hauls, the Act also allowed for exceptions. Moreover, it neither defined what was a reasonable rate nor allowed the Interstate Commerce Commission to set rates. To facilitate the efficient operation of the nationwide railroad system, the Commission generally tried to promote coordination and cooperation between the railroads. It also permitted the railroads to determine when the Act’s exception to the otherwise prohibited price discrimination applied. Not until 1910 was the Commission authorized to set interstate rates for the railroads. The railroads immediately exploited that change to avoid low maximum local rates set by the Texas Railroad Commission by having the ICC set higher rates for interstate shipping and invoking the principle that an interstate railroad cannot discriminate between its local and interstate traffic. 

While there was sympathy for at least some of the coordination by the railroads to stabilize their markets, the monopolizing activities of the industrial combinations had nothing to recommend them in the eyes of the public. The paradigm of monopolistic trusts was the Standard Oil Company, formed and controlled by the brilliant and ruthless John D. Rockefeller. The operation of that trust was the catalyst for the Sherman Act of 1890, an extremely popular law. It was also a vague law that targeted “combinations in restraint of trade” and “monopolizing.” It did not define what those terms meant, which was left to the courts and later statutes to develop. The Supreme Court eventually took a “rule of reason” approach under the Sherman Act to monopolization. The issue became whether a company sought to exploit its market power through unfair practices, such as monopoly pricing, market allocations with competitors, or predatory pricing (for example, temporarily charging below-cost prices) to thwart market entry by potential competitors.

The history of anti-monopoly sentiment might suggest that the Sherman Act was popular because people are opposed to such concentrations for economic reasons, that is, a concern about extortionate pricing, erosion of quality, and lack of innovation, which results from a lack of competition. Or, people supported the law out of an innate and determined sensibility that monopolies represent a broader threat to individual autonomy and liberty, especially among those who were unsuccessful in competing with such an entity. Yet, the Sherman Act’s vagueness and lack of a clear ultimate objective also suggest a panicked response to a phenomenon not then clearly understood, with the Supreme Court and later legislatures left to solve those complexities. The unprecedented size and presence of the trusts in emerging technological applications and at critical points in markets of vital raw materials frightened many. The vulnerabilities and longer-term weaknesses of industrial monopolies in an era of technological change were not yet apparent. Their alleged ability to bend politicians to their will in an age of corruption made them appear invulnerable. To the public, they were leviathans, with the same ominous potential for oppression as the namesake absolutist government described by Thomas Hobbes two centuries earlier.

 

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review  on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before  professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Colin Hanna

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

“I told McKinley it was a mistake to nominate that wild man [Theodore Roosevelt]” as Vice President, Senator Mark Hanna of Ohio said. “I told him what would happen if he should die. Now look. That damned cowboy is president of the United States.” Mark Hanna, sometimes referred to as McKinley’s Karl Rove, and my distant relative, was a champion of consolidating power in large corporations and “trusts.”

When Roosevelt gave his first message to Congress in December, 1901, the nation’s leading industrialists watched to see what the “damned cowboy” would say about their power over the government and the government’s power over them.

Roosevelt did not initially oppose the huge new corporate combinations. “Once the government actually knew what businesses were up to, he said, it could consider regulation or taxation to protect the public interest… In early January 1902, Minnesota sued to stop the Northern Securities Company from organizing on the grounds that such a combination violated Minnesota law… In February, Roosevelt’s attorney general told newspapers that the administration believed the formation of the Northern Securities Company violated the 1890 Sherman Antitrust Act and that he would be filing a suit to keep it from organizing… Business leaders were aghast, not only because Roosevelt was going after a business combination but also because he had acted without consulting Wall Street. When J. P. Morgan complained that he had not been informed, Roosevelt coolly told him that that was the whole point. Morgan implored Roosevelt to ‘Send your man [the attorney general] to my man [one of his lawyers] and they can fix it up.’ The president declined. ‘We don’t want to fix it up,’ explained the attorney general. ‘We want to stop it.’”

Article I, Section 8, Clause 3 of the U.S. Constitution, known as the Commerce Clause, grants Congress the power “to regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes.” This establishes Federal authority over interstate commerce …Roosevelt believed the president was the ‘steward of the people’ and thus empowered to do anything for the public nation’s needs unless explicitly forbidden by the Constitution.”

His use of the Sherman Antitrust Act to oppose the Northern Securities Company railroad trust became the first of a string of “trust-busting” actions that were challenged and resulted in severalnotable Supreme Court cases. In Northern Securities, the Supreme Court ruled 5–4 to dissolve the massive railroad holding company, proving the Sherman Act applied to stock-holding combinations that restrained interstate commerce. It was followed by Swift and Company v. United States in which the Court ruled unanimously in favor of Roosevelt’s prosecution of the Chicago “beef trust,” establishing that local business combinations that dominate a national market fall under federal regulatory jurisdiction via the Commerce Clause.

His successor, William Howard H. Taft, strongly rejected Roosevelt’s view of undefined executive powers and independent agency discretion, calling it an unsafe doctrine that undermined private rights and constitutional limits. 

The central question is how Congress may use its Article I lawmaking powers to create federal agencies and offices within those agencies, and prescribe, subject to certain constitutional limitations, how those holding agency offices are appointed and removed. Congress also may enumerate the powers, duties, and functions to be exercised by agencies, as well as directly counteract, through later legislation, certain agency actions implementing delegated authority.

Although the Supreme Court has repeatedly affirmed the validity of these agencies, no less an authority than the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, John Roberts has written, “The administrative state wields vast power and touches almost every aspect of daily life….TheFramers could hardly have envisioned today’s vast and varied federal bureaucracy and the authority administrative agencies now hold over our economic, social, and political activities.… The administrative state with its reams of regulations would leave them rubbing their eyes.”

In spite of their extra-Constitutional footing, and their seemingly unending blizzard of regulations, these agencies have been effectively used to produce public good in addition to imposing a burden on those they regulate. Thus, even though the independent agencies operate outside the tripartite design of the federal government established by the Constitution, they remain subject to Congressional oversight.

 

 

Colin A. Hanna is President of Let Freedom Ring, Inc., a public policy nonprofit committed to promoting Constitutional government, economic freedom, and traditional values. Colin is President of Enduring Impact Productions; a film production company currently engaged in developing a feature film for theatrical release on the life of Frederick Douglass.

Colin served as County Commissioner for Chester County, Pennsylvania from 1995 to 2003. Colin was an executive with CBS Radio and Television and a small business owner. Colin is a commentator on American Radio Journal, syndicated to over 200 radio stations, and an op-ed contributor to The Washington Times, Philadelphia Inquirer, The Hill, Roll Call, Atlanta Journal & Constitution, and National Review Online, among others. Colin is a former chairman of the board of Coalitions for America and member of ACU Foundation and CNP Action, Inc.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Alex Tokarev

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

“The essence of government is power,” noted James Madison, “and power, lodged as it must be in human hands, will ever be liable to abuse.”

No part of the U.S. Constitution has been abused more often and with more dire consequences than the Commerce Clause. Throughout history, the federal government has created business obstacles under pressure from its constituents, amassed unconstitutional powers, and ended up serving special interest groups instead of the people.

When they met in Philadelphia in 1787, the Founders sought to establish a delicate balance between effective national governance, the rights of the states in the union, and the personal freedoms of the American citizens. They needed federal institutions that had enough resources to provide for the common defense. They also wanted the national government to be limited enough so that it would not control the lives of the people, including their market interactions.

The subsequent success of the American economy is evidence that they got the balance right at the start. During America’s Progressive Era at the turn of the twentieth century, innovator-entrepreneurs like Rockefeller and Ford produced economic improvements, amassing great fortunes by serving their customers.

As corporate power grew and progressive reformers publicized unfair or unscrupulous business practices, many Americans called for reform. Wealth bred envy, and Progressive and Populist (representing farmers) politicians rode the wave of public discontent with the rise of big business. This led Congress to pass to the passing of the Interstate Commerce Act in 1887 and the Sherman Antitrust Act in 1890. The first demanded “reasonable and just” rates for railroad customers. The second one made “monopolization” a crime.

Rather than maintaining fair markets for free enterprise, both acts were a disaster for the American consumer and for liberty itself. Instead of lowering the cost of the short-haul railroad trips, where travelers had few options, the government intervention led to higher prices for the long-haul routes, where many companies had previously competed for customers. Established businesses captured the regulators and exploited their political connections for financial gains.

The result today is that our federal government controls economic life to an extent that was unimaginable when the Constitution was ratified. This concentration of power in Washington creates opportunities for political corruption, favoritism, and obstruction.

To a large extent, this dangerous trend can be attributed to the use and abuse of the interstate commerce clause. Originally intended to expand the freedom of Americans to engage in trade, it has since become the primary means by which our public servants restrict it. Rather than supporting popular government by consent, regulation has helped to expand federal power, especially in the executive branch.

To understand why the founders included the power to “regulate commerce” among the short list of enumerated powers granted to Congress, we need the historical context. Under the Articles of Confederation, states had imposed tariffs and other trade barriers on one another. New York taxed goods entering from Connecticut. Virginia quarreled with Maryland over navigation rights. The young nation risked dissolving over regional economic disputes.

The Commerce Clause was designed as a shield against such fragmentation. Its sole purpose was to remove government-imposed obstacles. To “regulate” means to make something regular, that is, to remove obstructions; the opposite of “control.”

And “commerce” does not mean “any and all” economic activities. It strictly describes the market exchange of goods for profit. The Founders empowered Congress to prevent states from disrupting markets, not to micromanage the voluntary transactions of private citizens.

When FDR became president, he lobbied the Supreme Court to reinterpret the Commerce Clause in a way that gave the federal bureaucracies unlimited power to harass the American producers. Rather than go through the legislative process of amending the Constitution, FDR used his executive authority to force the judicial branch to find him new powers that were never granted.

The most egregious example of this abuse is the case of Wickard v. Filburn (1942). A farmer had exceeded the quota assigned for wheat production by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The government agent forced him to destroy the extra grain.

The wheat was not sold (therefore; it was not commerce) and did not cross state lines (and was therefore not interstate). Nevertheless, the Court declared it subject to regulation under the Interstate Commerce Clause. The reason? It was a substitute for wheat that was sold. Voilà! A “substantial effect” on interstate commerce.

The Wickard precedent proved durable. In Gonzales v. Raich (2005), the issue was whether the interstate commerce clause gave the federal government the power to prohibit the use of homegrown medical marijuana. Citing Wickard, the majority ruled that growing marijuana for your own consumption in your own home had a substantial effect on interstate commerce.

In his dissent, Justice Thomas noted that if the government had the right to destroy a half-dozen marijuana plants because they substantially affected interstate commerce, then the clause would establish no meaningful limits—Congress could just as easily use that power to regulate quilting bees and potluck suppers.

The Founders crafted Article I, Section 8, to keep trade free from political obstruction. They would scarcely recognize the federal regulatory power that it was used to create.

Dr. Alex Tokarev grew up in Bulgaria under socialism and received his Ph.D. in Economics from Southern Illinois University in Carbondale.

Dr. Tokarev has received many scholarships and taught over 2 dozen different courses across several colleges and universities. He has authored hundreds of publications in English and Bulgarian on classical liberal ideas, published at World Magazine, The American Conservative, Townhall, Real Clear World, Independent Institute, Learn Liberty, The Daily Economy, Washington Examiner, Mises Institute, Acton Institute, Detroit News, Midland Daily News, When Free to Choose, Constituting America, and others. He has presented his research and given guest lectures at dozens of forums in Europe and America.

Dr. Tokarev has organized and led international ventures to Bulgaria and Albania and internships for students at the Institute for Market Economics, the Institute for Radical Capitalism Atlas, and the Experts Club for Politics and Economics in Bulgaria. He edited the Bulgarian translation of Hoppe’s “Democracy: The God That Failed,” and has been interviewed by Bulgarian National TV, Bulgarian National Radio, Bloomberg Bulgaria, The Academy on Capitalism, The Spark, the Gwartney Institute, and others.

Since 2012, Dr. Tokarev has been a part of Northwood’s faculty as an associate professor of free market economics and classical liberal philosophy. He is the founder and faculty advisor of Northwood University’s annual student-led Freedom Week. Additionally, Dr. Tokarev is a Mackinac Center for Public Policy Scholar and a Free Market Road Show speaker.

Dr. Dale Matcheck, Chair, Economics Department, Northwood University.

Kristin Tokarev, Writer for Stossel TV

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Gust Essayist: C.C. Borzilleri

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

From the nation’s earliest days, Americans celebrated their free and prolific print culture. In establishing their new nation, British colonists and later citizens of the United States drew legitimacy and power from the thriving print industry. In the new nation, printers identified themselves at the center of a civilizing mission to keep the people informed. A Pittsburgh printer, Zadock Cramer, wrote with pride to Thomas Jefferson in 1808 that a gold-leaf Bible “is altogether a western manufactory…this shows what can be done in this our new country when the channel of industry is conducted to a proper point.”

Some leaders even identified the nation’s legitimacy and purpose in its ability to foster such a strong industry of media. For example, in the opening of Isaiah Thomas’s 1810The History of Printing in America, the printer and historian wrote the following:

“Among the first settlers of New England were not only pious but educated men. They emigrated from a country where the press had more license than in other parts of Europe, and they were acquainted with the usefulness of it. As soon as they had made those provisions that were necessary for their existence in this land, which was then a rude wilderness, their next objects were the establishment of schools and a printing press.”

With the official separation from the British Empire, one of the first orders of business for the uniting colonies was to establish a postal service to enable information—about war, trade, and items of interest—to spread across the nation. It ensured that the printed word could travel freely, inhibited by neither political nor physical obstruction, in the national Union.

Reflecting on this period in 1835, Charles Brewster, in a lecture on printing delivered before the Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Lyceum, declared that without a free press, “the system of our government, over so vast an extent of territory, could not be maintained, and the name of State, in its present relation, would soon be heard no more among us. The chain which binds our Union together would be broken—for we are literally bound together by the press.” 

And as the eighteenth century progressed, this certainly seemed to ring true. The power of a self-governing people rested fully on citizens’ ability to make informed decisions. A freely operating news environment allowed the public to educate themselves and deliberate with each other on the news of the day, the priorities of their communities, and the high stakes of their continued civic engagement.

The centrality of the press was enshrined in the First Amendment, which declares: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” And the debate over the role of government in the spread of information was hotly contested during the first years of the early republic. As part of those debates, American leaders spoke extensively about the importance of the press to a free society.

When considering the limitation of the press under the 1798 Sedition Act, Thomas Jefferson asserted that “this is a game where principles are at stake,” and he hoped that the “reign of witches,” as he termed the Adams administration’s attempts to curtail the flow of information, would soon pass. With the expiration of the 1798 law at the start of Jefferson’s own presidency, the rights of free press were restored to the new nation.

Massive changes rocked the production of the news during the early nineteenth century, and the steadfast security of the principles protected by the First Amendment meant that the printed word remained ever powerful in informing the citizenry in the growing republic. By the mid-nineteenth century, both paper production and printing work were completed by steam-powered machines rather than by hand. Such a seismic change to the scope and scale of printed work made the already influential medium even more readily available throughout the American populace. 

The increased mechanization of production, speed, and reliability of travel with infrastructure improvements all came together to culturally shrink the growing country. At the eve of the Civil War, the 1860 census revealed over 4,000 news publications coming regularly off the presses across the United States. And the American people were reading more than one million copies of printed news (in its various forms across newspapers, magazines, and specialty publications) each year. The proliferation of information across the citizenry reflected both the enduring success of the founding principles and the energetic enterprise of the American people to engage in the project of self-governance, both equally key components of a healthy democratic society.

 

Dr. C.C. Borzilleri is a historian of women and print culture in early America. She is a Content Specialist at the Bill of Rights Institute and teaches university courses on American history and memory.


Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Gary Porter

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

As the movie, The Great Awakening, makes clear, Ben Franklin’s newspaper, The Pennsylvania Gazette, played a role in helping the Reverend George Whitefield publish and distribute his sermons, thus making a significant contribution to America’s first great revival. But newspapers made other contributions as well.

Americans were a very literate people and were voracious readers—John Adams once remarked that finding a citizen who could not read and write was exceedingly rare—so newspapers naturally flourished. America’s largest towns had the most newspapers: Philadelphia had 11 newspapers; New York City had 9 newspapers; and Boston had 7 newspapers.

Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) learned the printer’s trade during an apprenticeship in his older brother’s Boston print shop, from which he famously fled to Philadelphia. In Philadelphia, and during a brief stint in London, Franklin worked for several different newspapers before returning to the colonies and purchasing the Pennsylvania Gazette in 1729. It grew to become one of the leading newspapers in the colonies. He also published Poor Richard’s Almanack annually with many sayings about civic virtue. Franklin wrote numerous essays commenting on current events for readers to keep them informed.

While Benjamin Franklin gets much notice for his newspaper endeavors, it is less widely known that Sam Adams (with the help of some friends) published The Independent Advertiser in Boston from January 1748 to December 1749. Nearly every issue carried one of Adams’s essays on politics or one ridiculing the latest excesses of the British government.

James Madison’s classmate at Princeton, Philip Freneau, founded the Philadelphia newspaper, The National Gazette, in which appeared Madison’s famous 1792 essay, “On Property.” The following year, Alexander Hamilton turned to John Fenno’s newspaper, The Gazette of the United States, to carry on his famous Pacificus–Helvidius Debates with Madison.

Newspapers had played a critical role in the years leading up to independence. First, they gave a voice to leaders like Sam Adams, John Dickinson, and Thomas Paine. Second, they kept the people informed of the latest laws passed by the Parliament. Notice of the repeal of the Stamp Act was met with wild celebrations across the Cclonies.

When the Constitution was released to the public and sent to the states for ratification, many newspaper editors took sides, exclusively publishing the essays of Federalists or Anti-Federalists. Newspapers published the Federalist Papers to persuade the people and their representatives to support the Constitution. The first essay was published on October 27, 1787, in the Independent Journal, which continued publishing the essays through the spring of 1788.

Still later, after George Washington had retired from the presidency and presidential elections became competitive, newspapers usually announced their favored candidate. At times they became highly partisan. John Adams followed Washington as President in 1796 and ran for re-election in 1800. But Thomas Jefferson, who had been Adams’ vice president also stood for election. The election of 1800 is famous for the open viciousness of essays denouncing one or the other man. In Federalist newspapers, Jefferson was called a “Jacobin,” an “atheist,” and “a threat to the nation” for his French leanings. In Democratic-Republican-leaning newspapers, President John Adams was called a “despot” and a “threat to liberty” due to his support for the notorious Alien and Sedition Laws.

America’s “Road to Independence” would have looked very different without newspapers, and even though today other forms of media are becoming primary sources of news, newspapers continue to provide important services to communities across the nation. They are essential to having an informed citizenry that gives its consent in a republic.

Gary Porter is the founder and former Executive Director of the Constitution Leadership Initiative (CLI), a project to promote a better understanding of the U.S. Constitution by the American people. Gary presents talks on various Constitutional topics, writes periodic essays published on several different websites, and appears in period costume as James Madison, explaining to public and private school students “his” (i.e., Madison’s) role in the creation of the Bill of Rights and the Constitution.  In 2023, Gary served as chair of the Virginia Delegation in a simulated Article V Convention of the States held in Williamsburg, Virginia. Gary can be reached at constitutionlead@gmail.com.


Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Michael Johnson

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

Newspaper publisher John Peter Zenger was thrown into prison without a trial in 1734. His crime? Printing harsh criticisms of William Cosby, the newly-appointed Governor of the New York and New Jersey colonies. Cosby accused Zenger of seditious libel and angrily threw the weight of his administration against him.

Zenger was not Cosby’s only critic. The governor had already made himself a pariah in the colonies. He was described as a vile ruler. Zenger and his financial backers wanted the governor put on a ship back to London. So did a good many other colonists.

While Zenger languished in jail without a trial for nearly a year, his wife Anna kept the New York Weekly Journal in print.  Zenger finally got his day in court. It had become very apparent that the young publisher’s fate was of great importance to the colonies and the future American Republic. 

Zenger’s lawyer, Andrew Hamilton, told the jurors: “The question before the court and you gentlemen of the jury is not of small or private concern. It is not the cause of a poor printer nor of New York alone, which you are now trying. No. It may in its consequence affect every freedman that lives under a British government on the main of America. It is the best cause. It is the cause of liberty,” and you will have “laid a noble foundation for securing it for ourselves and our posterity.” 

Zenger was found not guilty.

Newspapers were and continue to be the backbone of American journalism. They have been among the cornerstones of democratic government as it has evolved and renewed. Their influence on self-governance from rural hamlets to the halls of Congress cannot be overstated. 

Indeed, the history of American newspapers and freedom of the press in this country parallels the history of America, chronicling its passage before and after our formal break from Great Britain 250 years ago this year. 

All along, newspapers have made both highly constructive and highly destructive but always indelible imprints on our experiment in self-government. The press has played a vital role in the preservation of individual rights as well as the fulfillment of the responsibilities of citizenship. 

Their failings have been well documented. They, and the other tentacles of the media, have fostered a negative and hyperbolic environment in which the nation has become more polarized and distrustful of government and the press. The media have lost trust with the American people.

They have for better and worse, shaped public opinion and by doing so provided a check on the actions of both government and its elected leaders.

“Our government rests in public opinion,” Abraham Lincoln once observed. “Whoever can change public opinion, can change the government, practically just so much.”  

That is why media literacy is so important now, when people have become estranged from their system of government. There is a crisis of confidence in the nation that has imperilled our political way of life. Regrettably, newspapers have been hit the hardest by this momentous change in media and public attitudes. Some of it has to do with the proliferation of alternative “news” sources, social media being the most egregious. Some has to do with the pure media industry economics. Some has to do with shifts in public lifestyles. Nevertheless, a fair and accountable media remains critical. 

The Founding Fathers felt strongly about the essential role and powerful influence that public communication would have on their budding Republic and the consent of the people.  They protected that role in the First Amendment with freedom of the press, freedom of speech, the right to assemble peaceably and the right to petition the government for redress of grievances.  They also understood that the people had to understand the machinations of the new experimental representative democracy in order to influence it and control it.

“To understand how government works, you must understand the media and their influence,” Jerry Climer and I wrote in our book Fixing Congress: Restoring Power to the People. “If you don’t understand how government works, how then can you access it or influence it to your advantage?” 

The extent of the damage to newspapers has been severe. A PEW Research study last year found that those who say they follow news all or most of the time dropped from 51 percent to 36 percent from a 10 years earlier. The number who follow news only now and then has gone up from 12 to 18 percent in that time. 

The AP reported recently that 136 newspapers have closed in the past year, creating more “news deserts” across the country. Nearly 3,000 papers have disappeared in the last decade. 

I sold newspapers on a street corner as a pre-teen, in front of the Nickel café in Sioux Falls, SD. I began my professional career as a reporter for a daily paper in Illinois. To this day, I love the smell of newsprint and vividly recall the clicking sound of the old linotype machines as they turned my words into hot metal. Daily newspapers were, and I hope will be, an integral part of our lives, with an unbreakable bond with the people and their critical need for good, reliable, readable and knowledgeable news. They are an integral part of informed popular consent.

Information is power.  The newspapers, broadsheets and pamphlets of the Republic’s infancy helped empower an American revolution and gradually make the U.S. the envy of people around the globe.  The “news” we get today, may not be what most people want or need, but the news is more relevant today than it ever was and it remains up to all of us to ensure that it serves the public good among all else.

 

Mike Johnson is a former Illinois newspaper editor, member of the White House staff of President Gerald R. Ford, press secretary and chief of staff to House Republican Leader Bob Michel and a senior executive with lobbying and public affairs organizations.  He was a co-founder and chairman of the Congressional Institute and held voluntary leadership roles with several other non-profit organizations dedicated to the betterment of the U.S. Congress.  He is a co-author of Surviving Congress, a book written for new members of Congress and staff.  He is also co-author of Fixing Congress: Restoring Power to the People. He is married to Thalia Assuras and has five children and five grandchildren.


Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Dorothea Israel Wolfson, Ph.D

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

It might seem surprising that the word “equal” appears only once, and in a very narrow way, in the original Constitution. The word appears in Article V addressing the amendment procedure, specifying that no amendment could be ratified that revoked the “equal” suffrage of the states in the Senate. Not only does the Constitution omit invoking the natural right of equality, which is central to the Declaration of Independence, but it also says nothing about the right to vote, which can be derived from the Declaration’s axiom that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.”  

The issue of voting rights was debated at the Constitutional Convention, where some delegates argued that there should be a property qualification attached to the right to vote. The thought was that laborers and the poor did not have a stake in society and thus could not be trusted to vote responsibly. Benjamin Franklin vehemently opposed property qualifications and instead argued for universal male suffrage. Franklin argued that the “common people” had proved their mettle in the Revolutionary War and should be rewarded with the right to vote. Ultimately, of course, the delegates did not impose any property qualifications for voting or office holding, leaving it up to the states to regulate the right to vote. Many states did impose property qualifications and limitations on the right to vote.

The Constitution’s silence on the fundamental right of equality and the right to vote may seem like glaring omissions. Indeed, this is why many historians have argued that the passage of the 13th, 14th, and 15th Reconstruction Amendments constituted a “second founding,” or at the very least, a delayed completion of the founding. Lincoln had reminded Americans in the Lincoln-Douglas debates of the 1850s, as well as in speeches during his presidency, that the Declaration of Independence was “our ancient faith” and the “sheet anchor” of our republic. He described the Declaration, borrowing from the Book of Proverbs, as “the apple of gold” around which the Constitution—its “silver frame”—adorned and preserved it. After the Civil War, the spirit of the Declaration became—in large part thanks to Lincoln—the central expression of the Constitution, embodied explicitly in the Reconstruction Amendments. Ulysses S. Grant, who fought and won the war to secure these rights, served as president when the 15th Amendment was ratified in 1870. Grant captured better than anyone else the direct connection between the Declaration and the 15th Amendment: “The adoption of the 15th Amendment…constitutes the most important event that has occurred, since the nation came to life…It looked to me as the realization of the Declaration of Independence.”  

It is important to keep in mind that, in 1787, the constitutional framers deliberately avoided using the word slavery in the Constitution itself. James Madison, in his notes on the Constitutional Convention, recorded that the delegates chose not to use the words “slave” or “slavery” to make clear that the Constitution did not support the idea of holding “a property in men.” The deliberate omission of the word slavery in these clauses led both Lincoln and Frederick Douglass to view the Constitution as a pro-liberty, anti-slavery document. The Reconstruction Amendments made emphatic what Madison and others had hoped the Constitution would convey over time. In this spirit, the 15th Amendment completed the work of not only the 13th and 14th Amendments but also, as President Grant noted, the work of 1776 as a whole. The 13th ended slavery and the 14th guaranteed due process and equal protection for all citizens and overturned the 3/5 clause of the Constitution, making clear that Black Americans were to be counted like all other Americans in apportioning seats in the House of Representatives.   

However, despite its conferral of citizenship to Black males, the 14th Amendment did not fully protect the right to vote. As Frederick Douglass observed, the 14th Amendment simply penalized states that did not protect the right of Black men to vote, rather than guaranteeing the right itself. The 15th Amendment made it absolutely clear that no state can deny the vote to anyone based on race, color, or previous enslavement.  What was also remarkable about the 15th Amendment was that it conferred the vote instantly to the newly adult freedmen without any qualification.

The right to vote is the most fundamental right of a democratic, self-governing people. Frederick Douglass put it best in his reaction to the passage of the 15th Amendment: “We were always men. Now we are citizens and men among men.” Douglass had argued that Black soldiers in the Civil War had more than earned their right to citizenship and the vote: “Once let the Black man get upon his person the brass letters ‘U.S.,’ let him get an eagle on his button, and a musket on his shoulder and bullets in his pocket, and there is no power on earth which can deny that he has earned the right to citizenship in the United States.” 

Despite widespread opposition to the idea of enfranchisement of the newly freed Black men, Lincoln, in the last speech he ever delivered on April 11, 1865, argued that the right to vote should be conferred on Black Americans who “are very intelligent and on those who serve our cause as soldiers.” John Wilkes Booth was in the audience that day, and the idea of Black enfranchisement was too much for him. A witness at the time reported that Booth turned to his co-conspirator, Lewis Powell, and said, “Now, by God, I will put him through. That will be the last speech he will ever make.” Booth assassinated Lincoln three days later on April 14, 1865, at Ford’s Theater in Washington, DC.

There was one group, women, who were not included in the 15th Amendment. Many women were bitterly disappointed by this exclusion, leading to a rift in the women’s suffrage movement, which had long supported the abolitionist movement. Women would have to keep fighting and wait another fifty years until the passage of the 19th Amendment, in 1920, to gain the right to vote.  Notably, among the earliest and most ardent supporters of women’s suffrage was none other than Frederick Douglass.

 

 

Dorothea Israel Wolfson, Ph.D, is managing director of the Hertog Foundation and former program director of the MA in Government Program at Johns Hopkins University.  She is co-author with Benjamin Ginsberg of The Unmaking of American Citizenship:  How Americans Learned Not to Love Their Country and What Can Be Done About It.  


Click here
 to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Eric Sands

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Frederick Douglass was born in February of 1818 and later chose the fourteenth of the month as his birthday since it was the last time he saw his mother. From an early age, Douglass recognized the correlation between literacy and freedom. This, alongside his innate intelligence, set him on the task of educating himself. He then met his future wife, Anna Murray, who helped him escape his enslaver and make his way to Bedford, Massachusetts, where he began involving himself in the abolitionist movement. Anti-slavery groups invited Douglass to make speeches in the North and West, and his fame as an orator increased rapidly. Given the power of these speeches, some audiences doubted that Douglass had been a slave. To prove his background, Douglass published The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass to silence his critics. To avoid being captured, Douglass spent time abroad in places like England, Ireland, and Scotland. Finally, abolitionists offered to purchase his freedom; he accepted, and he and his family relocated to Rochester, New York. In 1855, Douglass started publishing his own newspaper, The North Star, to advance the abolitionist cause. He was a great advocate for Black suffrage after their service in the Civil War. He pushed for Black citizenship and suffrage to give their consent.

Unlike abolitionists like William Lloyd Garrison, who denounced the Constitution as a pro-slavery document, Douglass believed it was the duty of every American to work within the confines of the Constitution and the political process. Douglass believed that slavery in the Constitution was like scaffolding: ugly but temporary. He challenged the country to turn America towards the Constitution’s framing in freedom and natural rights. The Constitution should serve as a beacon to advocate for all people. The Constitution, for Douglass, spoke in an abolitionist tongue, and the nation needed to fulfill this promise. 

Given his abolitionist stance and rhetorical prowess, it is not surprising that Douglass became a leading voice in the anti-slavery movement. He also strongly supported women’s suffrage and equality for all citizens. Douglass was a leading voice in the Reconstruction Amendments, especially the Fifteenth Amendment, which granted voting rights to Black men. This position, however, put Douglass at odds with leading women suffragettes. For Douglass, there was more at stake than just getting black men the right to vote. It was about showing that Black men were human. Black male suffrage would grant them social recognition and legitimize them as a political force in society. While Douglass had long argued for women’s suffrage, he maintained that Black male suffrage was the greater imperative. Enfranchisement meant that Black men could contribute to society by voting and holding office, and even more, receive the economic benefits of American society. 

Upon emancipation, universal suffrage was the next goal on the reform agenda among abolitionists and women’s rights advocates. The women’s rights movement had long been strongly linked to abolition. To advance this end, the American Equal Rights Association was formed with both Black and women’s rights as their focus. But in Washington, political reform after the Civil War was concentrated on expansions for the newly freed Black people, including Black male suffrage. 

However, leading women’s rights figures, such as Elizabeth Cady Stanton, began a push for white women’s suffrage over Black suffrage. Her arguments centered on what she viewed as the inferiority of Black voters and their inability to exercise the vote.  Stanton wrote in a fiery editorial that Blacks were not educated enough to exercise the vote. She thought they “do not know the difference between a Monarchy and a republic, [and] never read the Declaration of Independence or Webster’s spelling book.”

At the annual meeting of the American Equal Rights Association in May 1896, Douglass found himself in a position needing to defend the focus on Black male suffrage rather than women’s suffrage in the debates about the upcoming Fifteenth Amendment. According to Douglass, the nation was not ready to embrace both the Black male and women’s vote. A choice had to be made for one or the other. In making his case for Black male suffrage, Douglass argued that Blacks, unlike women, were being dragged from their homes and lynched, among numerous other atrocities. When members of the meeting pointed out that Black women were also victims of violence, Douglass pointed out that the women were being targeted because of their race, not their gender. 

Douglass was fully aware that the Fifteenth Amendment was not a magical cure for the nation’s racial ills. The Amendment did not protect Blacks from poverty, violence, or disenfranchisement through literacy tests and poll taxes. But it served as a beacon of hope for future generations. According to Douglass, his life’s work had been to see the principles of liberty, humanity, and consent expressed in the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, fully realized without regard to race, gender, or religion. 

Eric Sands is Associate Professor of Political Science at Berry College in Rome, GA.  He teaches a wide range of courses in American government and political theory.  Dr. Sands is also a professor in Ashland University’s MAHG program. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Mark Shubert

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The word republic comes from the Latin phrase res publica, which translates to “thing of the people.” In a republic, government exists for the people, and its authority depends on their consent. But this consent is not just an abstract idea — it must be expressed and recognized in practice. Citizens grant legitimacy to the government when they participate in it including voting in elections. Few moments in American history illustrate this principle more vividly than the extension of suffrage to Black men through the Fifteenth Amendment in 1870, especially after their service and sacrifice during the Civil War. By granting Black men the right to vote, the United States recognized that defending the republic carried with it a rightful claim to political voice and citizenship.

Before the Civil War, Black Americans — whether enslaved or free — were largely excluded from the political community. In 1857, the Supreme Court’s decision in Dred Scott v. Sandford, written by Chief Justice Roger B. Taney declared that Black Americans were not citizens of the United States and therefore had no political rights the federal government was bound to protect. This ruling made clear that, despite claims of popular sovereignty, consent in the republic was reserved for a narrow portion of the population.

The Civil War challenged this contradiction. After issuing the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln authorized the enlistment of Black soldiers into the Union Army. By the war’s end, approximately 180,000 Black men had served in the United States Colored Troops, with another 20,000 serving in the Union Navy. They fought in major battles such as Fort Wagner on July 18, 1863, where the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment — led by Colonel Robert Gould Shaw — suffered heavy casualties assaulting Confederate defenses. Their bravery and commitment made clear that Black Americans were willing to risk life and limb to defend the Union and the principles it represented.

Military service has long carried political meaning in republican societies. To fight for a nation is to affirm its legitimacy and stake a claim in its future. Black soldiers faced the dangers of battle, suffered discrimination in pay and assignments, and feared the threat of enslavement or execution if captured. Yet they persisted, demonstrating loyalty and courage equal to their white counterparts. Their service was a moral claim to political participation: they had defended the republic, and therefore deserved a voice in shaping it.

After the war, the United States entered the period of Reconstruction, seeking to redefine citizenship and political rights. The Thirteenth Amendment (ratified December 6, 1865) abolished slavery, and the Fourteenth Amendment (ratified July 9, 1868) established national citizenship and equal protection under the law. But these measures alone did not guarantee political participation. Without the right to vote, Black Americans could not truly consent to the laws that governed their lives.

The Fifteenth Amendment, ratified on February 3, 1870, addressed this crucial gap. It declared that the right to vote could not be denied “on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” This was more than a legal change — it was a recognition that the republic’s legitimacy depended on acknowledging the consent of those who had proven their allegiance through service rather than limiting suffrage based on servitude. Leaders like Thaddeus Stevens and Charles Sumner argued that denying Black men the vote would betray the very principles for which the Civil War had been fought and won.

The extension of Black male suffrage expanded the circle of consent and strengthened the republic. Formerly enslaved men could now vote, run for office, and influence the laws that shaped their communities. Between 1870 and 1877, Black Americans held public office at both the state and national levels, including Hiram Revels of Mississippi, who took his seat in the U.S. Senate on February 25, 1870. Their participation demonstrated that the health of a republic depends on including, rather than excluding, those who contribute to its defense and welfare.

Although subsequent laws and practices — such as poll taxes, literacy tests, and intimidation — undermined these gains, the Fifteenth Amendment remains a powerful statement about the link between service, citizenship, and consent. It affirmed that the government cannot demand loyalty and sacrifice while denying political voice.

By recognizing Black male suffrage after the Civil War, the United States took a step toward living up to its founding ideals. The republic acknowledged that legitimate government is built not on exclusion, but on the shared commitment of its people to defend, sustain, and shape it. In doing so, the Fifteenth Amendment reinforced the fundamental truth at the heart of a republic: that the people, through their consent, are the ultimate source of political authority.

 

Mark Shubert is Founder and Chair of Amending America ltd., an educational nonprofit, enriching civic and historical literacy in America. Graduated from The King’s College in 2023, achieved Eagle Scout award, became a member of the Sons of the American Revolution, and now dedicated to teaching and preserving our national memory. He is interested in meeting with educators, fundraisers, philanthropists, and networkers who share his mission and would like to contribute.



Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Years after the event, John Adams recounted his admission exam to Harvard College: “Mr. Mayhew, into whose Class We were to be admitted, presented me a Passage of English to translate into Latin. It was long, and casting my Eye over it, I found several Words the Latin for which did not occur to my memory. Thinking that I must translate it without a dictionary, I was in a great fright and expected to be turned by [rejected], an Event that I dreaded above all things.” Fortunately, Mayhew kindly permitted Adams to use a dictionary, and the young scholar was on his way. As admission to Harvard also required knowledge of classical Greek, Adams could read and write that language, too. 

Adams’ experience was familiar to many leading figures of the American founding, including James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and Thomas Jefferson. These languages were an integral part of the classical curriculum, which constituted the education of the American elite from academies through colleges. Classical education was civilizational, to inculcate values distilled from the intellectual patrimony bestowed by the ancients. It was the acquisition of practical wisdom, not of practical skills. 

The emphasis on classical languages coincided with a fascination for the cultures from which they sprang. The influence of the ancient Greeks and Romans on the Americans of that time is obvious from the writings during the struggle for independence and the adoption of the Constitution. Americans saw in their society the incarnation of classical ideals in a new order for the ages; “novus ordo seclorum” is a phrase derived from a work by the Roman poet Virgil. The civic virtue fostered by this “proper” education was considered the foundation on which rested the republicanism that was at the core of the American experiment. 

Although eighteenth-century American republicanism was philosophically rooted in the consent of the governed, its political institutions stayed in the hands of a classically trained “natural aristocracy” of virtue and talent. However, change was in the offing. Science, industry, and agriculture were soon to undergo a profound metamorphosis, contemporaneous with a similarly significant transformation of education and the political order. 

The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 famously proclaimed, “Religion, morality, and knowledge, being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.” Two years earlier, the Land Ordinance of 1785, which regulated the surveying and sale of Western lands, had made it national policy to set aside a one-mile-square parcel of land in each six-mile-square township in new territories for the establishment and funding of public schools to be created by the local towns. In 1787, the Confederation Congress, acting under the 1785 ordinance, granted two townships of 36 square miles each for the establishment and support of a public university in the Northwest Territory. The land would be sold to raise funds for that university. As a result, Ohio University was chartered by that state in 1804.

The technological innovations of the Industrial Revolution and the acquisition of a vast expanse of arable land through the Louisiana Purchase drove a demand for research and advanced training in the practical arts of manufacturing and agriculture. The discovery of mineral wealth in California gold, Nevada silver, and coal and petroleum for industrial use sparked interest in the science and technology of mining. Finally, advances in weaponry, changes in the nature of warfare triggered by the rise of mass armies through the Napoleonic Wars, and the dual challenges faced by the United States of controlling a vast area of land and of fighting the Civil War generated a pressing interest in military science.

These material changes in the lives of Americans coincided with fundamental political change in the era of Jacksonian Democracy. Broad popular participation in politics required an educated public to constrain tendencies to mobocracy, as did a more advanced, complex economy. These influences precipitated a democratization of children’s education through the Common School Movement, starting in Massachusetts in the 1830s, and of higher education through the Morrill Act of 1862. 

The Morrill Act was built on the model of the Land Ordinance of 1785. It granted each state 30,000 acres of federal land for every representative and senator to which the state was entitled. Funds raised from the land sale would establish at least one qualifying state college or support already existing state colleges. These public colleges would focus on agricultural science, mechanical arts and engineering, and military science. It was to be applied science, rather than theoretical science. These topics more likely appealed to students from non-elite backgrounds and reflected the dynamism and pragmatism of 19th-century America. After the Civil War, the Morrill Act also expanded educational opportunity by funding a number of what today are known as Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

The Morrill Act did not replace the influence of elite private universities, just as Jacksonian Democracy and its sequels—the 15th and 19th Amendments for Black and women’s suffrage—did not replace the influence of political elites. The classical curriculum, and with it the quest for civic virtue, was subordinated to the goal of material advancement that improved ordinary Americans’ lives. Expanding the scope of advanced education and making it available to many Americans through public funding, the Morrill Act ultimately promoted American republicanism in harmony with John Adams’ postulation, “Liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people.”

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review  on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before  professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Matt Van Hook

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

In Justin Smith Morrill, historian Coy Cross ends his biography with a simple truth: “If Justin Morrill had done nothing else, the Land-Grant College Act would have assured his place in history.”

With at least one land-grant institution in every state in the U.S. today, Morrill’s lasting legislative legacy launched educational opportunities for millions of students and invaluably advanced American agricultural and technical knowledge and leadership for over a century and a half. As the hero of this national deed, Justin Morrill exemplifies a distinctive virtue necessary for a thriving republic: sacrificial service aimed at creating opportunities for others. 

Like Alexander Hamilton a few short generations before him, Justin Morrill had a natural affinity toward accounting and financial planning. His early business and commercial financial successes in New England could have led him to use his considerable talents and energy for a lifetime of private gain and personal philanthropy in his home state of Vermont. Instead, he chose a lifetime of public service, first serving in 1854 in the U.S. House of Representatives at age 44 for six terms, followed by 32 years as a U.S. senator until his death in 1898.

While the Land-Grant Act bears his name, he was better known in Congress for his work managing the challenging financial situation of the United States in the 1850s through tariff policies designed to build and protect American industry against a European-dominated economy. The economic situation only worsened as the Civil War came. Although his work as chair of the powerful House Ways and Means Committee was important and exhausting, Morrill saw even deeper stakes for the prosperity of the republic. He recognized that America was not a giant machine, but rather a nation of equal citizens whose ingenuity and affinity toward hard work could outshine all of Europe. Such a goal, however, required an abundance of available and affordable education—especially education that elevated the reputation for the agricultural and mechanical arts, establishing a long line of respected Americans entering these indispensable vocations as practitioners, researchers, and teachers. 

Morrill risked his reputation but got his land-grant bill passed in 1862 after a five-year fight. On April 20, 1858, Morrill had invoked public sentiment that demanded higher education not only for those entering the life of law and letters but also for the future leaders in the fields of agriculture and engineering. Morrill viewed this as an absolute practical necessity, but the land-grant colleges would also be dignified in their own right as first-class institutions. Morrill simply argued, “Young Americans should have some chance to study agriculture as a profession and be attracted to it as a learned, liberal, and intellectual pursuit.” By no means would this education be solely technical training. It was also an entryway to a life of reading great texts and strategic thinking, just as Morrill had personally pursued his whole life. He had given the land-grant colleges a noble founding prior to the Emancipation Proclamation. His second act in 1890 was an extension of this same nobility to those citizens of all races whom these institutions, including the historically black colleges and universities, now serve. 

Morrill worked for nearly thirty more years establishing and securing grants for colleges across the U.S. During this time, he corresponded with luminaries like Frederick Douglass, who called upon him to lead the charge to expand education for everyone regardless of color or creed. Morrill gladly picked up the mantle. Originally, his new 1890 Morrill Act simply denied funds for “maintenance of a college where a distinction of race or color is made in the admission of students.” However, the bill was politically untenable without a concession for the establishment of equally funded separate colleges for white and Black students. When faced with the choice of a political compromise that allowed southern segregated land-grant colleges or losing out altogether on educational access for freedmen and their descendants, Morrill chose the former. For a statesman who came into his political career as part of the new Republican Party, he worked closely with Abraham Lincoln and stood for free soil and free labor his entire political career. Morrill recognized that education would ultimately bring together a country where the citizens—all citizens—would one day share in self-rule. 

On the hundredth anniversary of the Land-Grant Act, poet laureate Robert Frost declared, “For me there is no greater name in American education than that of Senator Justin Smith Morrill.” As a dedicated public servant who fought tirelessly to change the entire American concept of who should be considered “college-bound,” Morrill’s heroism and virtue emerge from his selflessness and personal devotion to the good of others. He undertook the daunting project that now rightly ranks among the greatest legislative accomplishments of the 19th century. 

 

Matthew Van Hook received his doctoral degree in political science from the University of Notre Dame with a focus on political theory, constitutional studies and American political thought. He also holds a master’s degree in security studies from the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, California. Prior to joining the Torrey Honors College faculty, Van Hook served on active duty as an Air Force pilot and political science professor at his alma mater, the US Air Force Academy. His research and published work ranges from the statesmanship of Abraham Lincoln to politics and law in the novels of Harper Lee. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: John Kitch

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

John Adams, writing to delegates of the North Carolina Provincial Congress in 1776, forcefully argued that the best form of government is a republic, rooted in virtue. Such a government would provide its citizens with the greatest chance for happiness and the nation with the best hope for stability. Key to this project, Adams believed, was a well-educated population. He put it like this:

“Laws for the liberal education of youth, especially of the lower classes of people, are so extremely wise and useful that to a humane and generous mind, no expense for this purpose would be thought extravagant.”

It was not until 1862, with the passage of the Morrill Land-Grant Acts, that Congress moved to fulfill the Adams vision. This law provided states with federal land, which states could then sell to found colleges dedicated to educating ordinary citizens. Initially, these institutions focused on agricultural and military training. Quickly, though, many of these new schools grew into full universities, where studies focused on the liberal arts and business were just as important as those aimed at farming and ranching. 

In time, these universities became democratic marvels: they educated future leaders in government, business, and the law. They trained a state’s teachers and medical professionals. Most deeply, they became centers of civic meaning. In time, land-grant universities came not only to reflect the people of their respective states but also to shape their common life. For example, Texas farmers in every county have access to support from Texas A&M’s AgriLife Extension Service Field Offices. Louisiana treats LSU football season as a continuous and rollicking celebration that even those who do not care about sports shape their calendars around. The University of Wyoming provides a sparsely populated but proud state with the ability to channel intellectual resources, economic innovation, and civic pride through one institution. 

Americans who attend their home state’s land-grant institution often become intensely loyal supporters of the school, long after graduation. Those who attend a public university in another state frequently call that new place home for the long term. More practically, these institutions provide economic mobility, not only for their students but also for the larger communities that house them. Continuing education programming, summer camps for local children, and public-facing events that bring national (and sometimes international) experts to town are all common features of land-grants. 

Perhaps the most amazing feature of these schools in the twenty-first century is that they have remained affordable to a large chunk of the American population. Today, average tuition for private universities is north of $50,000 per year. Average tuition at a public university, for in-state students, is just over $10,000 annually. Moreover, many states have programs that cover most or all remaining tuition for qualified students after scholarship awards are applied. Put simply, American land-grant universities are often the most powerful force for social cohesion and economic improvement in their respective states. 

Americans are so accustomed to our network of widely dispersed public universities that we too easily take them for granted. Washington, in his farewell address, implored the American people to see the connection between education and civic health. 

‘It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government….Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge.’

Benjamin Franklin’s famous statement that the new American nation would be “a republic, if you can keep it” is apt here. The American republic’s prosperity, intellectual vitality, and civic solidarity have all come to rely on its land-grant colleges and universities. Our republic, if we are to keep it, depends on the strength of these institutions going forward.

John Kitch II is an Assistant Professor of Instruction at The School of Civic Leadership at the University of Texas. He is a political theorist who teaches and writes on the American political tradition, with a focus on institutional development and foreign policy. He is a native Texan, husband and dad of three.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Adam Carrington

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

President Abraham Lincoln once said, “I have never had a feeling politically that did not spring from the sentiments embodied in the Declaration of Independence.” We readily can see those political feelings play out in his “House Divided” speech and the “Gettysburg Address.” Those political feelings shined forth in the Emancipation Proclamation and the Thirteenth Amendment. 

However, we should not neglect a lesser-known action of our famous sixteenth president: signing into law the Homestead Act of 1862. The law took effect on January 1, 1863—also the first day that the Emancipation Proclamation was implemented. 

As with the Emancipation Proclamation, Lincoln’s support for the Homestead Act flowed from the sentiments of the Declaration of Independence. The Homestead Act furthered two core principles of the Declaration: human liberty and human equality. 

The Declaration declared that all men possessed the “unalienable” right to liberty. But what conditions helped persons live freely? One important way involved owning land and a home of one’s own. Owning land provided the opportunity to make a living. Given a sufficient amount of workable land, a person could grow the food, keep the livestock, and undertake other efforts to care for him or herself and a family. That is what the Homestead Act did. For a small fee and an agreement to live on and cultivate the land for five years, a person could receive 160 acres from territory owned by the national government.

By making a living on one’s own property, persons would experience an important kind of personal and political liberty. One would not be as dependent on others for daily needs and thus susceptible to coercion by them. Others, thus, could not try to control one’s political and social views, much less one’s vote, by threats to undermine one’s means of subsistence. In addition, Thomas Jefferson had argued that farmers should be the bedrock of the American republic because farmers possessed a particular set of virtues—courage, determination, industriousness, and self-sufficiency—especially needed in a popular form of government. They made the best citizens, and the Homestead Act made more of them. 

Owning one’s own home also bolstered liberty. The phrase, “a home is a man’s castle,” went back at least to 1604 in the writings of English jurist Sir Edward Coke. The legal concept developed as an affirmation of the sanctity of one’s home. Its owner possessed particular control over it. He could say much about how it was built, how it was furnished, and how particular rooms were used. He could control, for the most part, who was welcomed or barred from entrance. It was a place of refuge, of safety, and a place where the joys of family life could thrive. In many ways, the Homestead Act made this possible. Because persons were required to live on the property for most of the year during their five-year probationary period, this law strengthened the culture of homeownership among Americans. 

This homeownership supported personal and political liberty as well. Persons could exercise the virtues of self-government in the home and teach them to their children without outside intrusion. They could meet with others, too, cultivating the habits of listening, persuasion, and community bonding so crucial to a democratic society. 

In addition to liberty, the Declaration famously asserted that “all men are created equal.” The Homestead Act aided this sentiment as well. In the distribution of its land, the Homestead Act established a large class of Americans holding a relatively equal amount of physical property. This general equality in land fostered kindred feelings among Americans having similar experiences and making use of similar means. It helped many have similar social and political interests that they could band together to support in local, state, and national elections. 

The Homestead Act also fought slavery. The slave system had depended in large part on extensive plantations, or like agriculture, owned by a small set of oligarchs and operated by those in bondage. That system competed with “free labor,” which involved independent families on smaller properties working for themselves. Lincoln, a long-time advocate (and past beneficiary) of this system, saw the Homestead Act as a way of strengthening free labor against the slave system. 

As we celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, we also should remember the actions taken to better implement its principles. The Homestead Act should be among those remembered actions. It furthered the sentiments of liberty and equality. In doing so, it built up an essential concept accompanying those sentiments: self-government. In the liberty and equality it fostered, Americans learned better how to think, act, and live for themselves. Thus, more than 160 years later, we still experience the goods that came from a lesser-known act of Abraham Lincoln: the Homestead Act of 1862.

Adam Carrington is the Associate Professor, Archer Endowed Position in History & Political Science and Co-Director, at the Ashbrook Center of Ashland College! 

Professor Carrington specializes in American Political Institutions, the American Judiciary, and the intersection of Politics and Religion. He earned his B.A. from Ashland University before completing his M.A. and Ph.D. at Baylor University.

Professor Carrington served as the Garwood Visiting Fellow at the James Madison Program in American Ideals and Institutions at Princeton University during the 2020–2021 academic year. 

In 2018, he was honored as Hillsdale College’s Professor of the Year by the graduating class, a testament to his dedication to teaching and mentorship.

He is the author of Stephen Field’s Cooperative Constitution of Liberty: Liberty in Full (Lexington Books, 2017), which explores the jurisprudence of one of the most influential 19th-century Supreme Court justices.

Now a faculty member at Ashland University, Professor Carrington’s favorite part of the job is working closely with students both inside and outside the classroom. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Libby Carty McNamee

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Under the Homestead Act of 1862, any person age 21 or older who headed a household and filed for American citizenship was eligible to claim federal land. Although women seldom receive any recognition, many settlers were females. In fact, twelve to twenty percent of the homesteaders in Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, North and South Dakota, and Utah were single women. 

These gutsy unmarried ladies crossed the country to acquire up to 160 acres of federal land in their name. Advances in travel helped. By the early 1900s, a woman could board a train with her belongings and make the sojourn in a few days instead of months. Then a government land locator took her to locate her claim by wagon or Model T.

Willa Cather, a celebrated author of the 1900s, was nine years old when her immigrant family left Virginia to settle on the dusty Nebraskan prairie. They struggled to adapt to this difficult and often unrewarding life in the desolate midland plains without a tree in sight. They ultimately left their homestead and moved into the tiny town of Red Cloud. Willa then delivered mail on horseback to many remote farms. These raw experiences as a pioneer child became the unique fodder for her novels, filled with vivid descriptions of the rural brown landscape of the Great Plains.

Florence Blake Smith, a bookkeeper from Chicago, learned about homesteading from a male friend. “If he could do it, I could, too,” she thought and saved her money to support herself for the required time on the claim. Then she persevered until the “free land” became hers. Her success was not unusual. Women homesteaders succeeded at the same rate as men.

Another woman from Chicago, Nellie Burgess, 31, answered the “call of the outdoors,” gave up her reporter’s job, and filed a claim near the Snake River in Idaho. She “proved up” her claim after homesteading the land for five years. In the meantime, she also developed into an accomplished hunter, gardener, and fisherwoman. 

The three Chrisman sisters took advantage of the Homestead Act and similar laws, each filing independent claims for adjoining land acres in Custer County, Nebraska, starting in 1886. They relied on their own labor to build their houses from sod. When the fourth sister, Ruth, reached the appropriate age, the good land was taken. So, she became a teacher and then a practical nurse.

These unmarried sisters alternated from living together to establishing separate farms and living self-sufficiently on the prairie. Ruth recalled picking fruit during the summers. “I can remember how we used to gather wild fruit in the canyons. Such delicious plums and raspberries – and the grass would be over our heads. Summer months were beautiful, such wonderful rains – never heard of droughts those days. But the winters were quite severe.”

Ruth also recounted the Blizzard of 1888, nicknamed the Schoolchildren’s Blizzard. She was at school during the deadly storm. “We had no fuel to burn but corn stalks – so we had to ‘move out.’ We went with the storms to the nearest neighbor, a widowed lady. She was out of fuel, too – had to burn some old chairs to keep us warm.”

Since the government recognized husbands as the heads of households, women often delayed marriage so they could maintain their land claims. Although Ruth never married, her three older sisters did later. Thus, a successful life of homesteading and marriage was possible. 

Some women preferred the single life, defying society’s expectations. For example, Alice Newberry cooked for a hired hand and taught in a country school in eastern Colorado. Then she wrote to her mother that marriage seemed unattractive because “cooking three meals a day, 365 days a year for the term of my natural life, is more than I can face.” A South Dakota homesteader told a reporter that her life felt empty in a huge house. “Now I have my 10×12 house, my yellow land and my freedom, and I think that life contains everything.”

Not all these unmarried women homesteaders were young. A 47-year-old divorcee, Geraldine Lucas, settled at the base of the Grand Teton in Wyoming in 1912 and became the second woman to climb its peak. Widows also used homesteading to support their families. Elinore Pruitt Stewart is the best-known due to her letters describing her pioneering life in Wyoming with her daughter. Atlantic Monthly first published them, and then they became a book, Letters of a Woman Homesteader.

With the unyielding perseverance of these pioneering women, it’s no wonder the Western states were the first to grant women the right to vote and give their consent in a growing republic. 

 

Libby Carty McNamee is a speaker, lawyer, and award-winning author of  “Susanna’s Midnight Ride,” “Dolley Madison and the War of 1812,” and “The Union Spymistress: The Story of Elizabeth Van Lew” and their Study Guides. She is also Co-Editor of “The Epic Story of 1776” and “The Epic Story of 1777-1779.” 

Libby lives with her husband in Richmond, Virginia, with a son in college. She is a graduate of Georgetown University and Catholic University School of Law. She practiced law in firms and corporations and served as a major in the U.S. Army JAG Corps in South Korea, Washington State, Bosnia, and Germany.


Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Alex Tokarev

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The Homestead Act of 1862 embodied the idea of popular consent in a republic, enabled 1.6 million individuals, their families, and descendants to pursue the American Dream, and can be used today to jump-start a new golden age for our country.

The principle that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed stands at the core of the American political identity. Rooted in Locke’s philosophy and articulated by Jefferson in the Declaration of Independence, it shaped our constitutional order. It has been the driving force behind many of the major political transformations in the United States.

The story of our country was written by people asserting the right to control their lives instead of sacrificing themselves in the name of visions and plans set by their masters and rulers. The refusal to bow down to aristocracies and other forms of elitism built a society free from the entrenched privileges that had oppressed the masses in the Old World for thousands of years. This heritage is still etched into the family farms and small towns that dot the American interior.

Nowhere is this shared worldview more evident than in the legacy of the Homestead Act, a legislative milestone that distilled the American creed into policy. The law recognized the right of every individual to claim property over that part of nature that he turns to productive use through labor. The land grant empowered millions to shape their own destiny.

Signed by President Lincoln during the Civil War, the Homestead Act offered 160 acres of public land to any adult citizen (or would-be citizen) willing to pay a nominal filing fee, settle, and improve that land for five years. This was not a handout or an act of charity. The law was an affirmation of the purpose of a republican government rooted in popular consent.

The Act reflected a new belief, popularized by Adam Smith, that the wealth of a nation is not something to be plundered and redistributed through conquest and government fiat. Rather, it is something to be created through entrepreneurship when the productive resources are accessible to all people, not hoarded by distant bureaucracies or monopolized by absentee elites.

The Homestead Act was one of the most inclusive pieces of legislation of that era. It did not discriminate based on race or sex. It did not care about an individual’s background—except for those who had fought against the United States.

The Act provided equal treatment under the law for men and women, the natural-born and the immigrant, the former slave master and the freed slave. Everyone had the opportunity to pursue the American Dream in exchange for good stewardship of our homeland.

The law covered huge chunks of our territories west of the Mississippi River. It became the chief incentive for poor but ambitious people to become pioneers and embark on a perilous journey through the wilderness. The Act propelled America’s Great Western Expansion. Millions took the advice of Horace Greeley: “Go west, young man, and grow up with the country.” 

The advice was at first an encouragement for immigrants to move from the overpopulated New York City streets to rural areas from Pennsylvania to Illinois. These people built great cities like Detroit and Chicago from scratch. The Homestead Act pushed them further until 270 million acres of unused territories became fertile farmland. America was united from sea to shining sea.

The Act embodied the principle that the government’s role is to serve the people, not to constrain them. It was an invitation to build a life rooted in productive work and participate in America’s political experiment. Each new farm and town created by homesteaders became a place where citizens produced, traded, innovated, worshipped, educated their children, and exchanged ideas.

Lincoln’s signature enshrined the conviction that a free society depends on widespread ownership that fosters independence and personal responsibility. It bound us together in our shared interest in the nation’s well-being. The law recognized that natural resources should be placed in the hands of those who will use them productively, not held as idle inventory by public servants.

Today, vast tracts of federal territories lie dormant. Such resources could be harnessed for productive use, housing, and economic revitalization if auctioned to those willing to develop them. The greatest asset of a free people is their ability to make something of the land and thereby of themselves.

Today, the Homestead Act still inspires commercials (Tecovas cowboy boots) harkening back to the great westward movement in America:”We may not need more people in the West, but would it hurt to have more of the West in the people?” It proves that land in the hands of the people is land made fertile by liberty and ambition.

 

Dr. Alex Tokarev grew up in Bulgaria under socialism and received his Ph.D. in Economics from Southern Illinois University in Carbondale.

Since 2000, Dr. Tokarev has taught over 2 dozen different courses across several colleges and universities and authored more than 300 publications in English and Bulgarian on classical liberal ideas. He has presented his research and given guest lectures at more than 50 forums, and has received scholarships from UCTM, SIUC, RCI/ISNIE, ISI, APEE, AFEE, the Acton Institute, and FMF.

Dr. Tokarev has organized and led international ventures to Bulgaria and Albania and internships for students at the Institute for Market Economics, the Institute for Radical Capitalism Atlas, and the Experts Club for Politics and Economics in Bulgaria. He edited the Bulgarian translation of Hoppe’s “Democracy: The God That Failed,” and has been interviewed by Bulgarian National TV, Bulgarian National Radio, Bulgaria On Air TV, Bloomberg Bulgaria, several Bulgarian magazines, The Academy on Capitalism, The Spark, and the Gwartney Institute.

Since 2012, Dr. Tokarev has been a part of Northwood’s faculty as an associate professor of free market economics and classical liberal philosophy. He is the founder and faculty advisor of Northwood University’s annual student-led Freedom Week. Additionally, Dr. Tokarev is a Mackinac Center for Public Policy Scholar and a Free Market Road Show speaker.

Dr. Tim Nash, Director, Northwood University Center for the Advancement of Free Enterprise and Entrepreneurship
Kristin Tokarev, Writer for Stossel TV

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Gary Porter

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Invention of the telegraph in 1838 by Samuel F.B. Morse and completion of the transcontinental railroad on May 10, 1869, are typically hailed as technological breakthroughs that enabled America to become the world power it is today; and certainly the significance of these two events should not be underestimated, but they can also be seen as simply incremental steps in man’s innate quest to improve our shared society.

For millennia, the ability to communicate over distance was limited to carrying written or printed words from sender to receiver. Military flag systems and trumpet and drum calls helped when speed of communication was urgent, but their “vocabulary” was limited and their range equally so.

In today’s environment of instant communications, limited only, and literally, by the speed of light, it is difficult to imagine the communications world of even 250 years ago, where a letter, at its fastest, might have taken three weeks to cross the Atlantic Ocean to or from Great Britain, and could easily have taken twice as long –or have been lost at sea.

Jefferson reminds us in the Declaration that “In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms.” The Olive Branch Petition was approved on 5 July, 1775, and was probably on its way to the King the next day. It would not be until November 9th that the Continental Congress learned that the King had not received the Petition “on the throne,” and thus issued no reply. By then Congress had already begun to create a Navy, and four days later American troops were enroute to capture Montreal.

On May 24, 1844, when the message “What has God wrought?” was sent from the U.S. Capitol building to Baltimore, Maryland in a few seconds and an acknowledgement received in similar time, mankind’s ability to communicate almost instantaneously began to be taken for granted. Today, the 40 minutes the Artemis crew were out of communication with earth stations while on the back side of the moon probably seemed like an eternity.

The message Samuel Morse chose to begin a new era of communication also reflects a founding principle of our country, expressed succinctly by Benjamin Franklin at the Constitutional Convention: “God governs in the affairs of men.”

To the men of the Declaration, God had endowed us with unalienable rights, and would assess the rectitude of their actions as the “Supreme Judge of the World;” Morse wondered aloud what else God, by his providential “concurring aid,” had brought into being.

One reason we know what we do know about America’s founders is because they lacked today’s communications systems and were forced instead to write letters; letters that were, by most Founders at least, routinely preserved.

Consider that today, letters are almost never handwritten and carried by a postman to their intended recipient. We text, we email, we make phone calls, and we accept it all as our standard of life in the 21st Century. Future biographers of famous personalities will have it easy – as long as their ability to retrieve digitally stored information remains intact. If they become limited to what information can be retrieved from handwritten letters, their task will be nearly impossible. But consider that everything we know about our nation’s founding period comes from handwritten letters, newspapers and other printed materials.

In the 125 years it took between the establishment of Virginia (1607) to that of Georgia (1732) man’s means of communication remained largely static. But one innovation made a difference: the Committees of Correspondence.

Forty-two-year-old Samuel Adams was credited by his second cousin, John, with being the founder of the Committees of Correspondence system in 1764. The thirteen colonies had been created as thirteen separate settlements with thirteen separate charters and thirteen separate identities. They initially faced the growing impositions of the British Parliament in thirteen separate ways, but they soon realized that by coordinating their responses they could be a far more effective force than by acting independently.

It was immediately clear to Adams and others that unless the colonies coordinated their individual responses to the various initiatives of the Parliament, Parliament could very likely “divide and conquer.”

Acting as rudimentary “telegraph stations,” the Committees of Correspondence kept their citizens informed and the provincial governments acting in unison. The names of individuals who committed their time and energy to these early “communications systems” include many men (and women) you will recognize: in Massachusetts: Sam Adams, Joseph Warren, Mercy Otis Warren; New Jersey: Declaration of Independence signer, Abraham Clark; New York: John Jay; Pennsylvania: John Dickinson, and Joseph Reed; Virginia: Peyton Randolph, Robert Carter Nicholas, Richard Bland, Richard Henry Lee, Benjamin Harrison, Edmund Pendleton, Patrick Henry, and Thomas Jefferson.

The Committees of Correspondence, America’s first “telegraph stations.”

Many of those same founders would go on to sign the Declaration of Independence. It asserted that the principle of consent is basis for securing the rights of the people. The Declaration states, “That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” The telegraph would help the people be knowledgeable citizens to be able to give their consent to their representatives.

 

Gary Porter is the founder and former Executive Director of the Constitution Leadership Initiative (CLI), a project to promote a better understanding of the U.S. Constitution by the American people. Gary presents talks on various Constitutional topics, writes periodic essays published on several different websites, and appears in period costume as James Madison, explaining to public and private school students “his” (i.e., Madison’s) role in the creation of the Bill of Rights and the Constitution. In 2023, Gary served as chair of the Virginia Delegation in a simulated Article V Convention of the States held in Williamsburg, Virginia. Gary can be reached at constitutionlead@gmail.com.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Andrew Langer

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The Declaration of Independence proclaims that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.” This enduring principle is often discussed in philosophical or political terms, but it rests on something far more practical: the ability of the people to communicate, to share information, and to act upon it. Consent is not meaningful if it is uninformed, delayed, or fragmented. It requires that citizens be aware of events, policies, and debates as they unfold. In this respect, the advancement of communication has always been essential to the vitality of republican government. Few individuals did more to expand that capacity in the United States than Samuel Morse.

At its core, self-government depends upon an informed and engaged citizenry. The people must be able to understand what their government is doing, to deliberate among themselves, and to respond in a timely manner. Without the ability to exchange ideas and information efficiently, the principle of consent becomes attenuated. It risks becoming little more than a formal mechanism—periodic elections—rather than an ongoing, dynamic process. Communication, therefore, is not merely a convenience; it is a foundational component of republican governance.

In the early years of the American republic, the ability to communicate across distance was limited and slow. News traveled by horse, ship, or foot, often taking days or weeks to move from one region to another. Political developments in Washington might not be widely known in distant states until long after decisions had been made. This delay created a structural challenge for self-government: citizens were frequently reacting to events that had already passed, rather than participating in an active, contemporaneous dialogue about public affairs.

The telegraph fundamentally altered this dynamic. By dramatically reducing the time required to transmit information, it reshaped the relationship between the governed and those who governed. Communication became more immediate, more widespread, and more uniform. In doing so, it strengthened the practical ability of citizens to remain informed and engaged. It is here that Samuel Morse’s contribution transcends invention and enters the realm of civic transformation.

Morse’s journey was not one of immediate success or effortless innovation. He was not simply a man who conceived of an idea and saw it instantly realized. Rather, his work was marked by persistence, experimentation, and a willingness to endure skepticism and failure. In an era when the notion of transmitting messages over wires seemed implausible to many, Morse pressed forward, refining both the technology itself and the system necessary to make it viable. His diligence reflects a broader truth about progress in a free society: meaningful advancements often require sustained effort in the face of uncertainty.

Equally important was Morse’s recognition that invention alone was insufficient. The telegraph was not merely a device; it was part of a larger system of communication that required standardization and coordination. The development of Morse code provided a common language through which messages could be transmitted efficiently and accurately. This standardization allowed the telegraph to scale, connecting cities, regions, and eventually the entire nation. In this way, Morse’s contribution was not only technological but structural—he helped create the framework for a new era of communication.

The impact of this innovation was profound. Economically, the telegraph connected markets that had previously operated in relative isolation. Information about prices, supply, and demand could now move rapidly across distances, enabling individuals and businesses to make more informed decisions. This increased efficiency strengthened economic opportunity and reduced uncertainty, empowering citizens to participate more fully in the nation’s commercial life.

Politically, the telegraph transformed the flow of information about government itself. News of legislative actions, executive decisions, and political debates could be disseminated far more quickly than ever before. Citizens were better equipped to evaluate the actions of their leaders and to respond accordingly. This enhanced the accountability of government, a cornerstone of any system grounded in the consent of the governed. When information flows freely and rapidly, those in power are more likely to be held to account by the people they serve.

Socially, the telegraph contributed to a growing sense of national identity. By connecting distant regions, it fostered a shared awareness of events and issues. Americans who might once have viewed themselves primarily through a local or regional lens increasingly became participants in a broader national conversation. This shared understanding is essential to republican government, which depends upon a common framework of knowledge and discourse through which citizens can deliberate and make collective decisions.

The connection between Morse’s work and the principle of consent of the governed becomes clear when one considers what consent truly requires. It is not enough for citizens to cast votes at periodic intervals. Meaningful consent depends upon continuous awareness, ongoing discussion, and the ability to respond to changing circumstances. The telegraph made these elements more attainable by ensuring that information could reach the public quickly and reliably.

Moreover, Morse’s innovation expanded the scope of participation in self-government. By reducing the barriers imposed by distance, it allowed citizens in disparate regions to engage with the same information at roughly the same time. This helped move the American republic from a collection of loosely connected localities toward a more integrated national polity. In doing so, it strengthened the capacity for collective decision-making based on shared knowledge.

Of course, the expansion of communication is not without its challenges. Greater connectivity can introduce new risks, including the potential for centralized control of information or the rapid spread of misinformation. These concerns are not unique to the telegraph; they accompany nearly every advancement in communication technology. They remind us that tools alone do not determine outcomes—how those tools are used matters greatly.

Yet the alternative—limited, slow, and fragmented communication—poses its own dangers. A society in which information moves too slowly or unevenly risks becoming disconnected and disengaged. Citizens may find themselves unable to effectively monitor or influence their government. In such circumstances, the principle of consent can erode, replaced by passivity or division. The expansion of communication, when coupled with a commitment to open discourse, remains a net benefit to liberty.
If the ability to communicate were to break down or become severely constrained, the consequences for self-government would be significant. Government actions would become more opaque, public awareness would diminish, and accountability would weaken. The distance—both literal and figurative—between the governed and their government would grow. Consent, in such an environment, would be less informed and less meaningful.

The relevance of Morse’s contributions extends well beyond his own time. Today, we live in an era defined by instantaneous communication, where information travels across the globe in seconds. While the technologies have changed, the underlying principle remains the same: the health of a republic depends in part on the ability of its citizens to remain informed and connected. Morse’s telegraph was one of the first major steps toward this reality, laying the groundwork for the communication networks we now take for granted.

At the same time, the existence of advanced communication tools does not guarantee a well-functioning system of self-government. Citizens must still choose to engage, to seek out accurate information, and to participate in public discourse. The responsibility for maintaining the vitality of the republic does not rest solely on technology or institutions; it rests on the people themselves.

Samuel Morse’s legacy, therefore, is not confined to the realm of invention. Through his diligence, perseverance, and vision, he helped expand the practical capacity of Americans to govern themselves. By accelerating the flow of information and connecting distant communities, he strengthened the mechanisms through which consent of the governed can be expressed and sustained.

The strength of a republic is not determined solely by the structure of its institutions but by the ability of its people to remain informed, connected, and engaged. In advancing the means by which Americans could communicate across distance, Samuel Morse helped transform the principle of consent of the governed from an abstract ideal into a more fully realized national practice.

 

Andrew is a seasoned broadcaster and public policy professional with more than 15 years of experience in radio, television and online media, and more than three decades in public policy. Currently, he serves as Director of the Center for Regulatory Freedom at the CPAC Foundation, as well as the Executive Director of the Coalition Against Socialized Medicine, drawing from his more than three decades in public policy and politics in those roles.

Since 2011, he has worked as a talk radio host, filling in for nationally-syndicated and major-market radio shows, like WMAL in Washington, DC. In addition to his radio work, he hosts several podcasts, including the Federal Newswires “Lunch Hour” podcast and “Andrew and Jerry Save the World.”He has been named one of Maryland’s top political influencers, has testified before Congress on regulatory issues more than two dozen times and in state legislatures around the country. A graduate of William & Mary with a degree in international relations, he holds a Masters in Public Administration from Troy University. He has also taught regulatory policy at the university level.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: James Clinger

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The telegraph message sent in 1844 by Samuel Morse from Baltimore to The Capitol building in Washington, DC, read simply, “What hath God wrought?” This was the first major demonstration of the ability of Morse’s invention to send and receive messages over long distances. The general question could also be applied to other significant technological developments of the nineteenth century. Two innovations, the telegraph and railroads, dramatically impacted government, industry, and the American people overall.

The telegraph and the steam engine-based railroads developed along parallel lines in their early years, but their advent had ripple effects throughout the country and throughout the world. Before steam and later diesel engines powered modern trains, wheeled carriages ran along metal rails, usually pulled by horses or mules. With the invention of the steam engine, trains could transport freight and passengers much further and faster than was even imaginable only a few years earlier. At first, the railroad industry was a relatively localized enterprise, with tracks that stretched only a bit further than the rails traveled by horse-drawn vehicles. But the nascent business grew and expanded its reach with the help of state government subsidies and joint ventures between corporations and state governments.

The telegraph was also aided by government assistance. Morse’s telegraph line from Baltimore to Washington, DC was supported by a $30,000 appropriation from Congress, and later expansions of telegraph lines were supported by state governments. In the 1830s and 1840s, many joint ventures between state governments and businesses were marred by scandal and fiscal turmoil, leading many states to default on their bonds. Changes in state constitutions to prohibit states from extending their credit to private firms put a stop to the defaults.

Government also became involved in aiding both telegraph and railroads by using its power of eminent domain to assemble various land parcels to permit telegraph lines and railroad tracks to cross land when individual land owners would not voluntarily sell. The power of eminent domain is constrained by the “taking clause” of the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution, which states that private property shall not “be taken for public use, without just compensation.”

Almost all states have comparable provisions in their constitutions. This is an example of the government delegation of its power to a private party, which is often very controversial.

Both telegraph and railroad lines grew, sometimes slowly but at other times very rapidly in some parts of the country. Financial panics in the 1840s slowed their expansion, but in the 1850s the industries took off often, at least in some regions. Chicago, which had only one rail line in 1850, was the railroad center of the country by 1860.

Initially, the two industries were quite decentralized, with different companies competing against others in various regions of the country. But soon, through mergers and cartelization, a few dominant firms emerged in different parts of the nation. Western Union became the dominant telegraph corporation, and several railroad companies controlled service in large sections of the national market.

Railroads in particular were and are enterprises that have huge, initial start-up costs. Especially in the early years of operation, they have heavily capital-intensive, sunk costs. Government subsidies often helped railroad companies in their beginnings, but the corporations had to raise enormous amounts of capital to be successful. If they were successful in raising enough money to function effectively, the railroads enjoyed enormous economies of scale. Once the railroads reached a certain size threshold, they were poised to grow even larger and larger. The railroads became America’s first major corporations, with scale and scope that would have been unthinkable to Americans in the first half of the nineteenth century.

The impact of these industries was massive. Before the telegraph, information traveled at the speed of a horse-drawn vehicle or a ship carrying mail across a body of water. With the telegraph, messages could travel hundreds of miles in seconds. The telegraph became a practical tool in improving the safety of rail traffic. Before the development of the telegraph, railroads relied on trains following precise schedules to prevent different trains from colliding head-on from opposite directions. By the 1850s, the telegraph was used to signal ahead to the next rail station, warning of the approach of another train. Head-on collisions became extremely rare. In a mutually beneficial arrangement, railroad companies began to grant rights-of-way to telegraph operators to set up poles and wires along their tracks.

The telegraph provided the opportunity for businesses to communicate asset and commodity prices, sales orders, and management reports all over the country. Railroads allowed firms to transport raw materials, finished goods, and corporate officers within a matter of days. Investors could now easily put their money in enterprises hundreds or even thousands of miles away. Farmers could sell their produce to a much larger market. Consumers could purchase goods that were not available from local producers. Overall, Americans became economically connected to all sections of the country. Since information flowed more freely and quickly, Americans became aware of what was going on throughout the nation and throughout the world. Prior to that time, most Americans knew only what was happening in their own locality and state. Former President Ulysses S. Grant, a heavy but not very successful investor in railroads after his presidency, said, “In the early days of the country, before we had  railroads, telegraphs and steamboats–in a word, rapid transit of any sort—the States were each almost a separate nationality.

The telegraph and railroad industries affected different regions and sectors of the American economy in different ways. Subsistence farming declined as commercial farming could enjoy access to a national market. Development along railheads surged while areas remote from rail access struggled. Older means of communication and transportation faded away after the telegraph and railroads entered a region. Stagecoaches and horse- and mule-drawn freight wagons lost market share when trains became a feasible form of transportation for people and cargo. Joseph Schumpeter used the railroads as a prime example of what he called “creative destruction.” As new innovations and technologies developed, some older industries would fall by the wayside. This could lead to some hardship for the employees and investors of those industries, but those costs would have to be borne for economic growth to occur.

The rise of these industries, particularly as they grew to massive scale, led to some public concern and political reaction. State governments initially regulated telegraph services, particularly in providing for rights-of-way and to protect the safety of telegraph lines and the privacy of messages. Both state and local governments granted franchises to some companies to provide exclusive telegraph service in designated areas. Since telegraph lines were crossing state lines, the federal government soon became involved in regulating the service, justified by the Commerce Clause of the Constitution (Article I, Section 8, Clause 3), which authorizes Congress, “to regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the several states, and with the Indian tribes.” In the 1866 Post Roads Act, the federal government preempted many state regulations regarding telegraphy. Federal preemption, authorized by the Supremacy Clause in Article VI, Clause 2 of the Constitution, means that federal laws prevail when state laws conflict with them. The post office lightly regulated telegraph services until the passage of the Interstate Commerce Act in 1890, which created an independent commission to regulate industries. The Interstate Commerce Commission formally had authority over telegraph services, but its primary focus was on regulating railroads, particularly allocating routes among companies, setting standards of service, and regulating rates on freight shipping. The political motivations and policy objectives behind the passage of the Interstate Commerce Act continue to be debated, with some scholars arguing that the new regulations served the interests of the biggest railroads by protecting them from competitors, while others claim that the policies of the ICC were intended to combat price discrimination against short-haul shippers of agricultural produce and other goods. The massive size of some railroad corporations, and their connections with other major firms, made them the target of enforcement actions by the Justice Department after the passage of the Sherman Antitrust Act. The regulatory frameworks established by The Interstate Commerce Act and the Sherman Antitrust became precedents for a host of regulatory regimes in the twentieth century.

A century after Morse transmitted his message to the U.S. Capitol building, the telegraph had been largely replaced by new telecommunication technologies. Railroads continue to provide valuable freight service throughout much of the country, and passenger service is still available in some parts of the country, particularly the northeastern corridor stretching from Boston to the District of Columbia. Yet, trucking, buses, and automobiles have taken over a large part of the market that railroads once served. Nonetheless, the historic role of these two industries cannot be underestimated. These industries shaped Americans’ expectations about what they could accomplish, where they could travel, and what news they could learn. They set precedents for corporate management and entrepreneurship. The government response to their corporate actions became the model for modern regulatory policy.

 

James C. Clinger is an emeritus professor in the Department of Political Science and Sociology at Murray State. For many years, he was the director of the Master of Public Administration Program at Murray State. He now serves as an on-line adjunct instructor for any university willing to hire him and as a substitute teacher for the Henry County (Tennessee) School System.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Adam Mossoff

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

Cyrus McCormick received a patent in 1834 for his invention of the first successful mechanical reaper. McCormick is justly famous for solving the age-old problem of increasing food production beyond the physical limits of manual labor. Yet, few today appreciate that he was also fulfilling the Founders’ vision of American innovation that they embedded into the structure of our government at the birth of our nation.

McCormick’s patented invention, as well as the commercial innovations he developed in selling his invention to farmers, led to a radical transformation in human society. For this reason, his reaper is one of the great inventive achievements of the Industrial Revolution. It exemplifies perfectly what the Framers of the Constitution intended when they explicitly granted Congress the unprecedented power to secure patents to inventors.

The Founders were political innovators who created a radical new system of government, and they were also innovators in innovation policy. The Copyright and Patent Clause in Article I, section 8 of the Constitution empowers Congress “To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.” This provision departed from the English Crown’s policy of awarding patents as royal monopoly privileges. In this constitutional clause, the Founders discarded royal whim and monopoly grants. In its place, they created a new innovation system governed by the rule of law, with Congress enacting patent laws to secure to inventors a property right in their inventions.

The Copyright and Patent Clause applied in practical politics the aspirations and ideals of the Declaration of Independence: all men are equal and governments are instituted among men to secure their rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. All people can be inventors, not just those favored by the Crown with royal privileges. All people can engage in intellectual labor to create new inventions (“useful Arts”), just as any person can engage in productive labor to grow and sow wheat on a farm. The inventor and farmer both deserve to be secured in the fruits of their labors under the law.

Cyrus McCormick’s reaper exemplifies the Founders’ vision of democratized innovation. Before he invented his reaper, McCormick was raised on a farm without a formal education in mechanics. He did not need it. He personified Alexis de Tocqueville’s observation that “Americans always display a clear, free, original, and inventive power of mind.”

As a farmer, McCormick experienced first-hand the problems in agriculture in the early American Republic: wheat was still harvested in the same way as it had been for thousands of years. It was a labor-intensive process, requiring numerous farmhands working all day swinging scythes to cut the wheat. It was a serious labor bottleneck in the production of food, and it required most of the country’s workforce to be employed in agriculture.

McCormick’s mechanical reaper changed everything. It was operated by two men and pulled by a horse, harvesting grain much faster than by manual labor. McCormick’s reaper vastly expanded food production, eliminated the threat of famine, and contributed to the explosive growth in population that began in the nineteenth century and continues to this day.

The dramatic efficiencies achieved by his mechanical reaper made it possible for farmers to cultivate more land with fewer workers, freeing up people to work in the new factories and offices created in America’s fast-growing innovation economy. Approximately 75% of the U.S. population worked in agriculture at the time of McCormick’s invention. Thanks to McCormick and additional inventions in agricultural machinery, less than 5% of the population today works in agriculture, feeding a population that has increased 2,500% since 1834.

The reaper even served an important role in the Civil War: historians often cite the reaper as contributing significantly to the Union’s wartime capacity by producing enough food to feed the nation, despite many able-bodied men leaving farm fields to serve on the battlefields.

McCormick also innovated commercially on the basis of his patents. He invented the first money-back guarantee as an incentive for farmers to purchase his reaper, and he invented the first customer support service, providing for customers McCormick-certified mechanics to repair broken-down reapers in the field. Lastly, McCormick invented the first installment-purchase plan: farmers paid a small portion upfront as a down payment and then paid the remaining cost of the reaper after their (more successful) harvest. These commercial innovations by McCormick were just as important as his reaper, outliving his invention as common business practices to this very day.

McCormick’s reaper is a tale of extraordinary technological ingenuity and business acumen, which makes it an exemplar of the Founders’’ vision of American innovation. By empowering Congress in the Constitution to secure a property right in the fruits of an inventor’s productive labors, the Founders created a uniquely American innovation policy that has been the engine of the American innovation economy and our flourishing society.

 

Adam Mossoff is a professor at the Antonin Scalia Law School at George Mason University. He is an expert in patent law and innovation policy, and his research has been relied on by the U.S. Supreme Court and other federal courts, as well as by officials throughout the federal government. He has been invited seven times to testify before Congress on patent policy, and he regularly speaks at federal agencies like the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, Department of Justice, and International Trade Commission. In addition to his academic work, he has written on patent law and tech policy in the Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Forbes, STAT, and in other media. He is a director and senior fellow at several academic centers, think tanks, and policy organizations.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: James P. Pinkerton

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

We’ve all heard about the crisis of artificial intelligence and jobs—how AI is going to render millions unemployed. Yet we may not know about the employment crisis of American agriculture in the mid-19th century when mechanical harvesters sliced through the employment of farm laborers.

That wasn’t a crisis at all, it was progress! You see, working as a manual laborer on a farm, cutting crops with a scythe in the hot sun, was actually not such a good job.

So when mechanical reapers were mass-produced, beginning in the 1840s, the standard of living for Americans rose: Farming grew more efficient, and so farm workers migrated to towns and cities, where they found jobs in factories, even as they benefited from lower food prices.

In 1820, nearly 80 percent of American jobs were on the farm; by 1900, that percentage had fallen to 40 percent (today, it’s less than two percent). During those same eight decades, it is estimated that the real gross domestic product of the U.S. rose by more than 600 percent.

To be sure, there were problems with urbanization and industrialization, just as there are problems with any massive social trend. And during the 19th century, from 1861 to 1865, for other reasons, we suffered a bloody civil war.

Yet even so, the nation persevered, and prospered. For that we can thank the free enterprise system, which allowed innovators and entrepreneurs to develop labor-saving technologies.

And we can also thank the U.S. Constitution. Since 1789, our founding document has allowed for the sanctity of contracts, and the safety of private property, including intellectual property, as part of its overall frameworking of industrial and economic productivity.

The life of Cyrus McCormick (1809-1875) provides a snapshot into this virtuous process, which enabled a fellow from the backwoods to emerge as the leading agricultural innovator of the 19th century. Born in rural Raphine, Virginia to a family of modest farmers and tinkerers, McCormick resolved to do something about the low productivity of farm life.

That lifelong desire to solve problems—and, yes, to get rich—inspired him to start the McCormick Harvesting Company near home in 1837. Yet the search for better channels of production and distribution caused him to relocate, a decade later, to the swelling industrial hub of Chicago.

Right here we see the value of another aspect of the Constitution. Article I, Section 8, Clause 3 guarantees the free travel of persons and products across state lines.
McCormick flourished in the Windy City, and so did the country. In the words of historian William T. Hutchinson, “Of all the inventions during the first half of the nineteenth century which revolutionized agriculture, the reaper was probably the most important.” Hutchinson continued, “The reaper was not the only new agricultural machine which revolutionized the economy of the farm. Harvesting implements of all kinds were in use by the time of the Civil War, but it is slight exaggeration to assert that they all incorporated some of the principles which had made the McCormick reaper a success.”

After the founder’s death, his company merged with four smaller companies to become International Harvester; later, it became Navistar, and today, it is International Motors. Yet by any name, the company is still going strong, still producing goods, still providing jobs.

That’s the power of capitalism, of course, and yet it’s also the power of constitutionalism. The rule of law at home, and strength in the world, enables inventors such as McCormick—joined by regular workers in the millions—to pursue their dreams as their skills empower them. As the Constitution’s principal author, James Madison, wrote in Federalist #10, “The diversity in the faculties of men, from which the rights of property originate, is not less an insuperable obstacle to a uniformity of interests.” Yes, people are different, Madison is saying, but they can find the common ground of economic advancement. “The protection of these faculties,” Madison concludes, “is the first object of government.”

Such legal protection—benefiting inventors and farmers alike—has enabled American agricultural output to grow more than one hundred-fold.

We can look at that increase and see that the growth rate is almost Moore’s Law-like. Which reminds us: Our constitutional ship of state has steered us through all the storms of U.S. history—including the development of new technologies, from the mechanical to the chemical to the digital. Our history proves that we can preserve our democratic liberties, even as we change and prosper.

So today, when AI seems so daunting, we can take heart in our own history. We’ve seen difficulty, and opportunity, before. We can do this—so long as we stay true to the Constitution.

Jim Pinkerton was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and serves as a Senior Fellow in the Center for American Prosperity at the America First Policy Institute. He worked in the Domestic Policy Office at the White House under presidents Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush and in their 1980, 1984, 1988, and 1992 presidential campaigns. In 2008, he served as a senior adviser to Mike Huckabee’s presidential campaign.

From 1996–2016, Jim was a Contributor to the Fox News Channel. He has also written for The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Financial Times, and The Los Angeles Times.

Today, Jim writes regularly for Breitbart, The American Conservative, and The Daily Caller. He is married to our very own Elizabeth Pinkerton and is a graduate of Stanford University.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Brita Horn

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The American farmer of 1820 was not free in any meaningful sense. He owned his land. He answered to no landlord. He believed in self-governance with his whole heart. But from the moment the wheat ripened until the last stalk was cut, he was a prisoner of his own harvest. A strong man working without rest might cut two acres in a day. Every acre beyond that was lost. A family’s future rested entirely on the strength of his body and the mercy of the weather. There was no time left for anything else, not community, not civic life, and not the work of being a citizen. When Cyrus McCormick demonstrated his mechanical reaper in a Virginia wheat field in 1831, he did not just change how Americans farmed. He changed what it meant to be an American.

The American farmer was never just a symbol. He was a real man with real calluses, real debt, and real children depending on him. Beside him was his wife, up before he was, running the household with the same grit he brought to the fields. She kept the accounts, preserved the food, raised the children, and held the family together, knowing that one bad harvest could unravel everything. Their independence was not his alone. It was theirs, built side by side from the same hard ground. They believed that a family who answered to no landlord, who fed their children from ground they had broken themselves, was truly free. But freedom without the capacity to participate in the life of a republic is incomplete. And that capacity was exactly what they lacked.

A republic rests on the consent of the governed. But consent is not passive. It demands citizens who are informed, present, and free enough from desperation to think beyond their own survival. The farmer who spent every waking hour racing the weather had nothing left for the town meeting, the school board, the jury box, or the ballot. His wife, bound to a household on the edge, could not anchor the civic institutions that make self-governance real. They believed in the republic. They simply did not have the margin to participate in it. Popular consent requires something the scythe could never provide: time.

Wheat had to be cut within a narrow window, sometimes as few as ten days, before it shattered and fell worthlessly to the ground. Every acre beyond what a man and his family could physically cut was an acre lost. That gap was not just an agricultural problem. It was a civic one. Virginia planter and third President Thomas Jefferson believed economic independence was the foundation of republican virtue. He was right. But independence alone was not enough. Capacity mattered, too. And capacity requires margin.

McCormick’s reaper closed that gap with straightforward mechanical logic. A blade cut the stalks at the base. A reel pushed the grain into position. A worker raked the bundles clear. One horse. One machine. Where a man with a scythe cut two acres a day, the reaper covered twelve to fifteen. The ceiling broke. And with it, the constraints on civic life broke too.

The surplus that followed was not just grain. It was time. Families on the expanding prairie frontier could now cultivate and sell far more than they needed to survive, generating real income that could be saved, reinvested, and passed on. A man no longer consumed by desperation could show up. He could attend the town meeting, read the newspaper, hold an opinion about his government, and act on it. His wife, freed from the splintered edge of subsistence, could build the schools, the churches, and the community relationships that make republican life real at the local level. Children had choices their parents never did. The republic expanded. Not only on paper but on the ground.

Popular consent is not a document. It is a daily practice. It is carried out by people with enough breathing room to actually participate. The reaper created those conditions across the American frontier. It did not change what those families believed about freedom and self-governance. It gave them the capacity to live those beliefs at a scale that mattered.

A republic is only as strong as the citizens who show up to sustain it. And citizens can only show up when they are not prisoners of their own survival.
McCormick gave them room to breathe. And a people who can breathe can govern themselves.

 

Brita Horn lives on a 5th generation family ranch in a tiny town in northwestern Colorado, where she has been a volunteer fire chief for nearly two decades. She is a ranch wife, mother and grandmother who finds her deepest convictions not in institutions but in the people around her, the ones who get up early, do the hard work, and never ask for recognition. She is also the author of Drinking from a Fire Hose: 5 Essential Tools to Not Get Soaked. This essay grew out of her belief that the American story has always been carried by ordinary families doing extraordinary things.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Stephen Tootle

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

John Quincy Adams cared deeply about the success of the United States and preserving the idea that men could govern themselves. Slavery posed a unique threat to America. Anti-slavery abolitionists used the constitutionally protected right of petition to advocate for an end to slavery. Once Adams joined the fight, pro-slavery forces attacked him, overstepped, and Adams emerged victorious. The fight against slavery would continue along the path forged by Adams at this critical juncture—in the open.

As the son of Founding Father and President John Adams, John Quincy Adams had been reading, thinking, and applying the principles of self-government for his entire life. This included long stints as a diplomat in Europe, shaping American diplomacy as Secretary of State under President Monroe. He also held elective office in the Massachusetts Senate and the US Senate before finally becoming the 6th President of the United States. But his finest moments were yet to come.

He came to see slavery as a horror—eventually. Although hostile to slavery in theory, serving overseas kept the issue of slavery distant from his everyday concerns. That changed once he returned home. The political fight and resulting compromise that allowed Missouri to become a state in 1820 aroused his ire. The torture of a black boy by a mob over a misunderstanding made him boil with anger. His conversations with John C. Calhoun—a man Adams once admired—convinced him that slavery was “the great and foul stain upon the North American union.” He came to regret his support for the Missouri Compromise once he saw how it twisted American law into knots. When the South Carolina legislature passed the Negro Seaman’s Act, requiring black sailors to be imprisoned while at port, he was livid. Quiet moments of contemplation about anti-slavery and self-government followed meetings with abolitionists, conversations with his wife, and stirring sermons. These incidents, memories, and relationships prepared him for his fight in Congress over the Gag Rule and sustained him once the fight was underway.

The right to petition the government has a long history in English law. Well before the Bill of Rights enshrined the right to petition in the American Constitution in 1791, the practice dated back almost half of a millennium to the reign of Edward I. After the American Revolution, several states included the right to petition in their own state constitutions and its inclusion in the First Amendment was not controversial. Most importantly, the right of petition gave the people a voice and was foundational for self-government. But, legislators treated petitions about slavery differently.

In 1836 pro-slavery congressmen argued that Congress had to receive the petitions, but did not have to read them or act upon them. Americans opposed to slavery sent hundreds of thousands of petitions to Congress. Both houses of Congress rejected anti-slavery petitions, but John Quincy Adams fought for them.

Adams rose in opposition to roars of approval and condemnation: “I hold this resolution to be a violation of the Constitution of the United States, of the rules of this House, and of the rights of my constituents.” Congress voted him down and he received threats from the south. One man from Alabama wrote to Adams promising that, “on the first Day of May next I promise to cut your throat from ear to ear.” Clearly, passions were high. The fight was joined, but slow, hard work remained.

Adams worked patiently and diligently. Abolitionists inundated Congress with anti- slavery petitions. In every session, Adams used every parliamentary trick he could find to get them into the congressional record. But the key was to never give up the fight. Every year, Adams introduced resolutions to end the Gag Rule. Every year he was defeated. Then finally, on December 3, 1844, Congress relented and the Gag Rule was dead.

We can learn so many wonderful and eternal lessons from John Quincy Adams and his fight against the Gag Rule. He understood the meaning of the founding, yet he spent a lifetime working through the implications of what it meant to liberate mankind from violence and arbitrary power. Achieving these worthy goals required sacrifice and work. He loved America desperately and fully, but agonized over the issue of slavery–always suspecting that he could have done more and better. Undoubtedly, he was right. We could always do more. We could always do better. But John Quincy Adams also pointed the abolitionist cause toward the solution that ultimately ended slavery: American patriotism. Love of America is a love of freedom and a dedication to equality and opportunity for all. We can study our past and do not need to be afraid of what we will find. As was true for John Quincy Adams fighting the ancient injustice of slavery so it still must be said, the injustices of this world are no match for the ideals of the founding.

Stephen Tootle is Professor of History at the College of Sequoias in Visalia California and Honored Visiting Graduate Faculty at Ashland University. His reviews, articles, and essays have appeared in National Review, the Claremont Review of Books, Presidential Studies Quarterly, the Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, and his hometown newspaper. He hosts a weekly podcast/webcast called “Tootle Talk.”

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Scot Faulkner

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

John Quincy Adams was America’s most impactful former President. His most important accomplishment was risking scorn and even death to defend free speech and constitutional liberties.

Adams was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1830, the only former President to serve in that chamber. He would win election to nine terms, serving from 1831 until his death in 1848.

After one reelection victory, Adams said that he must “bring about a day prophesied when slavery and war shall be banished from the face of the Earth”.

As the abolitionist movement grew, the American Anti-Slavery Society filed over 1,000 petitions, with 130,000 signatures, focused on abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia since it was under federal jurisdiction. In 1836, in response to Adams’s consistent presentation of these citizen petitions, Southern Democrats imposed a Gag Rule that immediately tabled any petitions about slavery.

The Gag Rule prohibited anti-slavery petitions from “being printed, read, discussed, or voted on, stating that the effect of these petitions was to create much irritation and ill feeling between different parts of the Union”.

Prior to the Rule’s vote, Adams rose from his seat to protest. When House Speaker, James Polk, refused to recognize him, Adams yelled, “Am I gagged?” He argued that the Gag Rule was a “direct violation of the Constitution of the United States, the rules of this House, and the rights of my constituents.” He declared it a threat to free, deliberative government: “The freedom of debate has been stifled in this House to a degree far beyond anything that ever has happened since the existence of the Constitution.”

This was the beginning of Adams’s relentless campaign to overturn the Gag Rule, waged in an increasingly dangerous political environment:

Joanne B. Freeman’s book, The Field of Blood; Violence in Congress and the Road to Civil War, documents the deterioration of representative government and civil discourse. As she writes, “Between 1830 and 1860, there were more than seventy violent incidents between Congressmen in the House and Senate Chambers or on nearby street…armed groups of Northern and Southern Congressmen engaged in hand-to-hand combat on the House Floor….fighting became endemic and Congressmen strapped on knives and guns before heading to the Capitol every morning.”

A core of members of Congress from slaveholding states countered Adams’s increasingly creative parliamentary maneuvers with physical threats. Rep. Thomas Arnold (Whig-Wisconsin) defense of Adams provoked Rep. John Dawson (D-Louisiana) to brandish a large knife and threaten to cut his throat. Once, when Adams’s remarks “put slaveholders in blaze”, scores of slaveholders “shouted points of order, every now and then screaming at the top of their voices”. This was followed by a gang of Southern members surrounding Adams, threatening physical violence. Adams rose to his feet and shouted, “I see where the shoe pinches, Mr. Speaker, it will pinch more yet!”

Adams led the ban of dueling to stop Southerner members using deadly force (the assassination of abolitionist Rep. Jonathan Cilley by Southern Rep. Willam Graves occurred on February 24, 1838 was orchestrated and covered-up as a duel).

Adams asserted the dueling ban “goes to the independence of this House; it goes to the independence of every individual Member of this House; it goes to the right of speech and the freedom of debate in this House.”

Adams continued to present hundreds of petitions with the signatures of citizens opposed to slavery, only to be shouted down. He then avoided the word “petition”, saying instead that he was introducing a “prayer” that all would enjoy their God-given rights. “Petition was prayer,” he argued. “It was the cry of the suffering for relief; of the oppressed for mercy.”

Adams received numerous death threats. “I promise to cut your throat from ear to ear,” read one. Another had a picture of a large Bowie knife and threatened “Vengeance is mine, say the South!” Adams confided to his diary, “I walk on the edge of a precipice in every step that I take.”

Adams introduced thousands of petitions, including 511 on March 30, 1840, alone. All were tabled without debate. Proslavery representatives then instituted a harsher gag rule to shut Adams up. The House agreed it would not receive any petitions. Adams saw a “conspiracy in and out of Congress to crush the liberties of a free people of the Union.”

In a bold act of defiance, Adams had the clerk of the House read the Declaration of Independence aloud to his fellow representatives, stating, “I rest that petition on the Declaration of Independence.”

Adams’s crusade drew increased media coverage of the Gag Rule and congressional violence, which “exposed the tyrannical force of the Slave Power for all to see”. In 1842, Southern members overplayed their hand by censuring Rep. Joshua Giddings over his resolution congratulating Adams winning the freedom of the Amistad ship slaves in a case before the U.S. Supreme Court.

Media coverage raised American awareness of, and opposition to, the Gag Rule. Northern voters increasingly supported candidates who demanded the right of representation, petition, and free speech. This new generation of Northern Democrats were unwilling to embrace Southern intimidation tactics.

After these election reversals, Rep. Henry Wise (D-Virginia), the leading Gag Rule supporter and Adams’s nemesis, announced to reporters that he “ceased to contend in the war which is being carried on in the House by certain men against the South”. Wise ceded that the Gag Rule “roused Northern fury over violated rights”.

The Gag Rule was finally rescinded on December 3, 1844, by a vote of 108–80, with all Northern and four Southern Whigs voting for repeal, along with 78% of Northern Democrats.

Congress never again attempted to silence dissent among its members.

Scot Faulkner was the Chief Administrative Officer of the U.S. House of Representatives. Earlier, he served on the White House staff. He is Vice President of the George Washington Institute of Living Ethics at Shepherd University and the President of Friends of Harpers Ferry National Historical Park.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: William Allen

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The question that has been posed seeks an explanation of how John Quincy Adams’s fight to overturn the “Gag Rule” in Congress relates to the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. The nature of consent lies at the bottom of both the Declaration and the Constitution. We typically turn to the ratification of the Constitution to identify the moment of consent or even the “social contract” itself. I submit, however, that if we return to the initial formulations of the Declaration, we will discover good reasons to revise our typical approach. Let us begin, therefore, by rereading the key opening passages of the Declaration.

“When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

Let us take note of the often-neglected dual character of “consent” animating the Declaration of Independence. This dual character was the focus of John Quincy Adams’s 1837 oration on the Declaration of Independence The focus on Adams’s defiance (and eventual defeat) of the gag rule obscures the full nature of his two-decade fight to turn back the extension of slavery throughout the nation (a campaign he bequeathed to Abraham Lincoln, who completed the effort.) Adams stood four-square on the dual nature of consent resonant in the Declaration, as he elaborated in Oration.

What, then, is the dual nature of consent? Above I have highlighted the critical passages in the opening paragraphs of the Declaration, bolding the references, which, unfolded, reveal the dual nature of consent. Typically, readers turn immediately to the franchise-voting both to establish and sustain a government: to explain consent. It is plain, however, that there is a more fundamental basis for an explanation of consent, and that is conveyed in the necessity for “one people” to declare themselves a “separate” people.

It is fair to say that the Continental Congress merely asserts the existence of a united people. Adams resisted that temptation upon the solid ground of the aspiration thus
expressed, and the empirical reality that the assertion of Congress was universally received by the population in general as expressing their understanding. In that sense, they gave consent to living as one people, a united people. Now, that original, fundamental consent is necessarily prior to the operation of a principle of consent in the formation of a government. That is, the occasion to form a government grows out of an agreement to act in the world as one people.

The idea, therefore, of collective responsibility for free government stands upon the prior accomplishment of peoplehood or statehood that necessitates the establishment of institutions to secure and guide the future of collective independence. The reason voting -and ultimately universal suffrage – becomes important is that preserving and directing free government requires maintaining constraints on government to insure that governing does not intrude upon the natural right of the people – the collective – to determine at any instant whether they choose to remain “one people,” which is to say, whether they continue to consent to existing as a single nation or people.

Consent, therefore, is more than a feature of democracy. It is a moral sine qua non, lacking which there is no just basis for any form of government. Limited government, in other words, is not the initiation of consent but the consequence or outcome of consent. Consent originates legitimate peoplehood and both creates and sustains the institutions that safeguard it. Consent is integral to national identity and instrumental — the means – to national preservation —- hence, its dual character.

 

Editor of George Washington: A Collection and translator of Montesquieu’s Spirit of the Laws (with commentary).) Published (with David Zanotti) Oration: John Quincy Adams Christian America, 2025. Author of scores of scholarly essays and books, including Rethinking Uncle Tom: The Political Philosophy of H. B. Stowe and, most recently, “Three 18th Century Revolutions: British, American and French.”. Taught at Harvey Mudd College, Michigan State University, Villanova University, and University of Colorado-Boulder. l Recipient of the Bradley Prize, Le Prix Montesquieu, numerous fellowships.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Troy Kickler

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg AbbottEssay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

At Seneca Falls, New York, a convention of men and women invoked the spirit of American reform.

Many Revolutionary Patriots, such as Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, called for the observance of their “unalienable Rights.” The founders of the United States and later the framers of the Constitution excluded women from the language of the Revolution. Abigail Adams, the wife of John Adams, the second president of the United States, called for women to have a representative voice in the new government.

It was in this age that the concept of republican motherhood matured fully. A republic, it was argued, depended on the rule of virtuous leaders. The mothers of the new republic were charged with rearing a moral citizenry and producing virtuous leaders. The republic depended not only on republican motherhood. In this limited capacity, women still acquired, albeit indirectly, a political role, for they trained virtuous leaders who ensured the success of the republic.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, British and French authors argued similarly. The philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau believed public life and virtuous womanhood were irreconcilable; the former distracted from performing the duties of the latter. Influenced by Rousseau, Mary Wollstonecraft, a British author, argued in A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792) that motherhood provided the basis for female citizenship. She also called for the education of both sexes.

After the ratification of the U.S. Constitution (1789), women played key roles in various reform movements during the antebellum era (1820-1860). They became involved in the abolition movement and the temperance movement, to name two examples. A byproduct during this age of reform was the women’s rights movement. But for many female reformers, the abolition and women’s rights movement addressed the same problems.

The friendship between Mott and Stanton started in England and resulted in the Seneca Falls Declaration of Sentiments. In 1840, Stanton and Mott attended the World Antislavery Conference in London. Although Mott was a delegate for the American Anti-Slavery Society, she was refused a seat in the assembly. So, too, was Stanton. Both had to sit in the balcony and were not allowed to speak. Even more, there was a curtain that kept them from being seen. Both had been humiliated and pledged to form a society that addressed the oppression that women dealt with on a daily basis.

Their idea was implemented in 1848. It took eight years because abolitionist leaders feared that Mott’s and Stanton’s idea might impede the effort to free slaves. Yet at Seneca Falls, New York on July 19-20,1848, approximately 300 people, male and female, met and debated women’s suffrage and discussed the possibility of women’s suffrage and all other matters that dealt with the “social, civil, and religious condition and rights of women.” Stanton and Mott hoped to start the removal of what they deemed artificial boundaries, creating gendered and societal spheres. Many of the other delegates, like Mott, were “Quakers or glove makers,” persons, as historian Kathleen Brown describes, “whose religious convictions and participation in new forms of home production gave them a modern rather than traditional sensibility.” At the conclusion of the convention, the attendees had participated in the first formal women’s rights convention in the United States.

They purposefully used the language from the Declaration of Independence (1776) and incorporated it into the Declaration of Sentiments at Seneca Falls. They asked not only for certain rights but also certain responsibilities, including being accountable for crimes. When asking for these rights and responsibilities, the women used descriptive phrasing when listing how they had been denied in a list of grievances. Here are a few passages:

“When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one portion of the family of man to assume among the people of the earth a position different from that which they have hitherto occupied, but one to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes that impel them to such a course. . . .

He has never permitted her to exercise her inalienable right to the elective franchise.

He has compelled her to submit to laws, in the formation of which she had no voice.

He has withheld her rights, which are given to the most ignorant and degraded men—both natives and foreigners. . . .

He has made her, if married, in the eyes of the law, civilly dead.”

The reaction was mixed across the United States. Some thought it was a precursor to communism, while some localities held their own convention with their local declarations. Newspapers covered the event, and it got the attention of a famous and nationally influential editor, Horace Greeley. What happened in Seneca Falls, New York, also influenced later reformers. Sojourner Truth and Susan B. Anthony are two examples.

In short, as historian Judith Wellman writes, “These women’s rights advocates patterned their document directly on the US Declaration of Independence.” Never shy, reformer Elizabeth Cady Stanton called the convention the “greatest rebellion the world has ever seen.”

 

Troy Kickler was the Founding Director of the North Carolina History Project and Editor of northcarolinahistory.org. He holds an M.S. in Social Studies Education from North Carolina A&T State University and a Ph.D. in History from the University of Tennessee.

Kickler is currently editor of Nathaniel Macon: Collected Letters and Speeches. He is also writing Black Children and Northern Missionaries, Southern Conservatives, Freedmen’s Bureau Agents, and Freedmen in Reconstruction Tennessee, 1865-1869. He has contributed to the anthology Children and Youth during the Civil War Era (New York University Press, January 2012; James Marten, ed.). He published with Notre Dame University Press and the University of North Carolina Press. His latest work was North Carolina’s Revolutionary Founders.

He has presented numerous papers at various conferences and forums, including the American Political Science Association and the Bradley Institute for the Study of Christian Culture.

In addition to contributing to constitutingamerica.org, he has served as editorial assistant for the Journal of East Tennessee History and has written articles and reviews for such publications as American Diplomacy, Carolina Journal,Journal of Mississippi History, Tennessee Baptist History, Tennessee Historical Quarterly, and The Journal of the North Carolina Association of Historians. He has also contributed to Exploring American History: From Colonial Times to 1877; Encyclopedia of American Environmental History; and The Old West: Yesterday and Today. He also has been the Colonial Records Editor of the State Archives of North Carolina.

Kickler has taught at North Carolina State University and Liberty University.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Janine Turner

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg AbbottEssay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

You’ve heard the names: Susan B Anthony, Lucretia Mott, Victoria Woodhull, Amelia Bloomer, Elizabeth Cady Stanton. The founding mothers of the suffragette movement, yes? Yes. But, there were more. Have you ever heard of Belva Lockwood? She was a bit younger than most of her contemporary founding mothers but certainly not any less mature and successful. Belva Lockwood’s legacy, however, was broader in scope. She championed not only women, but humanity in general.

The true beginning of the American suffragette movement was thrust into the American psyche in March of 1776, by none other than our nation’s original, most revered founding mother, Abigail Adams. Her demand to, “Remember the Ladies,” was such a novel concept at the time that it literally left her husband, John Adams, and his band of revolutionaries, speechless, aghast. In her famous letter to John, she wrote:

*If perticuliar care and attention is not paid to the Laidies we are
determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves
bound by any Laws in which we have no voice or Representation.

The percolating resolution within the Declaration of Independence, and subsequent ratification of it, would inspire not only its founders but all who heard of its revolutionary intent: all are created equal, and life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness were for all of God’s people. In the late 1770’s, African American slaves filed lawsuits demanding their entitlements to what was stated within the Declaration of Independence, and many won, and women, such as Abigail Adams, challenged that these enlightened ideals should also apply to women.

It is safe to assume that Abigail would be astounded to learn that it took another 143 years for this to be accomplished.

During this tenuous era for women, Belva Lockwood, 1830-1917, emerged. Unlike her fellow suffragettes, she didn’t wait for permission. She charged forth into men’s worlds because to Belva, sex was irrelevant. Both male and female inhabited the same mind. Sex had nothing to do with it. When she hit wall after wall, she steadfastly ventured forth into unknown territory: high school education, college education, law school. She stepped into the vast unknown, the mud, the mire —the arena. When knocked down, she got up, straightened her skirts, and started all over again. She exhibited the true grit of the American spirit, a pioneering relentlessness to be a part of, to succeed in —to grasp—the American promise. Refused again and again for acceptance to law school, she persevered. “I am very simple minded,” Belva declared, “When I wish to do a thing, I only know one way, to keep at it until I get it.” When she was refused her diploma from National Law School, now George Washington University, after
passing all the requisite courses and tests with flying colors, she wrote to none other than—the current President of the United States, Ulysses S. Grant. She got it.

Not to be deterred, when her thriving practice presented a case that needed to be argued at the United States Supreme Court, Belva received her recommendation for the court, and passed the bar exam. When denied admittance to the bar, she strode into the Supreme Court and demanded an answer. Why had she been denied? The Justices were flabbergasted that she was standing in their presence demanding accountability—she was a woman. Time and time again she was denied and time and time again she demanded answers. Eventually the Justices pronounced exasperatedly, “There is no precedent.” Raising the ire of Belva, she reasoned: if a woman can only be admitted if another woman has been admitted but if no woman has ever been admitted then how can a woman be admitted?

There was simply no common sense within their statement.

Forever relying on the republican principles of the American Republican government, Belva decided to utilize the checks and balances of the United States Constitution. She marched the halls of congress, amongst the all male House and Senate, lobbying for a bill that would allow women to be admitted to the bar of the United States Supreme Court. This effort took Belva five years to accomplish. Eventually a majority of men in the House and Senate passed the bill, and President Rutherford B. Hayes signed it. Belva Lockwood became the first women to be admitted to the bar of the United States Supreme Court! She was the only woman to argue cases there for the next twenty years.

One such case, representing Belva’s ardent desire to fight for justice for all, (whether it be to abolish slavery, help the helpless or demand women’s right to vote), Belva agreed to represent the Cherokee Nation. The Cherokee Nation was demanding that they be paid for their lands, the lands relinquished due to the Echota Treaty, resulting in the Trail of Tears. True to her indefatigable nature, Belva, a lone woman among all men in the Supreme Court, was victorious. It was an historic, landmark decision, accomplished by the woman who had originally been denied the right to argue within its esteemed walls.

Often it is recounted that until the 21st century no woman had ever been on the ballot for President of the United States. This is a falsity. Belva Lockwood ran for President of the United States, her name appearing on the ballot, in both 1884 and 1888. She campaigned around the country for her Equal Rights Party fighting for equal rights —for all. By her side, at all times, was her beloved daughter, Lura. Another groundbreaking decision Belva made, after her husband died when Lura was three years old, was to not remarry and thus, raise her daughter by herself. (Belva would remarry much later in life.) During the 1850’s women, when married, had no rights to their children. Belva decided not to take this risk. Thus, she climbed the rocky path of attaining her inherent calls to action, with her daughter in tow. She provided for Lura and also, inspired her. Lura attended law school, as well. Like mother, like daughter. Like rebel, like renege.

Belva’s contribution to the suffragette movement included rallies and speeches, but her contribution to the suffragette movement ventured further and wider. Impatient, fortified with faith and fervor, Belva did the unthinkable —she simply reached beyond her grasp, (*for what’s a heaven for) and succeeded, before it was certain or certified. She *dreamed the impossible dream and willed it into fruition. She was an American, representing the exceptionalism of our founding documents. She, “ fomented a rebellion,” against the status quo and won.

*Abigail Adam’s quote left in original form
*Referencing Robert Browning’s poem, Andrea del Sarto
*The Impossible Dream, Man of La Mancha, Mitch Lee composer, Joe Darion, lyrics

Janine Turner
Founder, Creative Director of Constituting America and co-editor of Constituting America’s History Holds the Key the Future annual academic study. She is an actress, an Emmy and three time Golden Globe Best Actress nominee, speaker, author, playwright. Turner has written a musical about Belva Lockwood, currently in pre-production.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Heather Yates

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg AbbottEssay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

“Resolved…it is demonstrably the right and duty of woman, equally with man, to promote every righteous cause by every righteous means.” These words were issued at the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848, the foundational event for the American women’s suffrage movement. The gathering was organized by Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott on July 19-20, 1848, in Seneca Falls, New York. The organizers were motivated to make the public aware of the broader inequalities women faced in American society. One of the most important features at the convention was the drafting of the Declaration of Sentiments, a keystone document of the women’s movement.

At the center of the women’s suffrage campaign was the principle of citizenship. The principle was anchored in the premise of gendered equality and equal abilities. By not recognizing women’s legal right to engage in political processes, the state denied half the population the ability to consent to be governed. Being denied the legal ability to vote, women were rendered invisible to the state and thus denied the protections of the state that are extended to recognized citizens. These grievances, it was argued, made women “civilly dead.”

The Declaration of Sentiments was intentionally modeled after the Declaration of Independence. The Declaration of Independence expressed the nation’s core political beliefs. It presented a political framework inspired by John Locke and classical liberalism, which sought a minimal government and maximal individual freedom, which included the sanctity of property rights, individual rights, and the extension of rights through the instrument of voting. Based on those beliefs, Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott declared that “it is the duty of women of this country to secure to themselves their sacred right to the elective franchise.”

The similarities between the Declaration of Independence and the Declaration of Sentiments were deliberate. The Declaration of Independence issued bold statements to justify separation from Britain and to explain the cause of independence to the colonists. The drafters at the Seneca Falls convention issued equally bold statements that indicted patriarchal society as the cause of women’s oppression. They claimed gender equality, and presented their case to the American public that women were citizens necessitating full participation in politics and the social contract.

Like the Declaration of Independence, the Seneca Falls convention issued a list of grievances that detailed the injustices suffered by women, including their inferior legal status, the lack of voting rights, the limited educational and employment opportunities, and ultimately, the economic and physical subordination of women across all socio-economic classes. The notable grievance was the denial of the right to vote. It was argued that in denying women the right to vote, a society “has compelled her to submit to laws, in the formation of which she had no voice.”

It is necessary to point out that modern-day thinking about voting portrays it as a collective practice in expression, whereas the Declaration of Sentiments offers another way to think about voting: as a legal act of conveying consent instead of mere expression. Of course, voting possesses expressive benefits, but voting is much weightier; it is an action to convey legal consent to representation. Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott understood that voting implied entering into a legal contract. When we vote, we render our consent to a political candidate to honor that contract. The attendees at the Seneca Falls Convention believed that the idea of democracy, and the experiment of self-governance, is truly a bottom-up organization that requires all citizens to participate in the practices of consenting to being governed.

The boldness of the Declaration of Sentiments did not promote women’s separation from political society, but issued a call for the inclusion of women as legal citizens to enjoy the rights and protection of the state—to consent to being governed. The vote represents a single instrument of citizenship, and being denied that sacred right fell short of the vision set forth in the Declaration of Independence.

Ultimately, the Seneca Falls Convention framed women’s rights not simply as a political
preference, but as a moral imperative rooted in the nation’s founding beliefs. By echoing the language of the Declaration of Independence, the Declaration of Sentiments set out to reveal the contradictions embedded in the political practices that defined the era.

The struggle for the right to vote was portrayed as part of a larger effort to reform the exclusions of half its citizens from political participation. In demanding the vote, Stanton, Mott, and the attendees at Seneca Falls were not asking for special privileges, but for the nation to fully embrace its own professed principles. The Declaration of Sentiments became the philosophical foundation of the women’s rights movement and helped set in motion the long campaign that would eventually reshape the meaning of American citizenship itself.

Dr. Heather Yates is a political scientist and independent scholar who studies a variety of topics focused on American politics with specific attention given to the American Presidency, campaigns, and elections. She has authored three books, numerous book chapters, and dozens of public articles analyzing local and federal elections. Dr. Yates spent 14 years as a university professor teaching a range of topics related to American politics. Dr. Yates now applies her expertise as a researcher and writer at Ballotpedia, the digital encyclopedia of American politics.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Jon Schaff

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The Declaration of Independence notably expresses as a “self-evident” truth “that all men are created equal” and that governments derive “their just powers from consent of the governed.” In the decades that followed the founding of the United States, there would be much thought and debate dedicated to figuring out what exactly “created equal” and “consent of the governed” mean. There was certainly some notion that these commitments to equality and consent should allow for broad participation in political decision-making.

To see how striking this devotion was, remember the world of 1776. Almost nowhere did ordinary people vote. Even Great Britain—often considered one of the freest nations of the time—restricted suffrage so tightly that only about five percent of adults could vote and only around fifteen percent of adult males. Property qualifications for voting ensured that most Britons had no political voice. Yet Britain was still among the most democratic places on earth.

America was very different. In the United States Constitution, contrary to popular belief, nobody is excluded from voting. In fact, it contains just one explicit provision about voter qualifications. This occurs in Article One, Section Two, which sets up the House of Representatives. The Constitution says, “the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature.” In other words, if you can vote for the largest chamber in your state’s legislature, you can vote for the United States House of Representatives. No one is excluded.

The other elected parts of the government, namely the United States Senate and the presidency, were handled somewhat differently. Until the Seventeenth Amendment, ratified in 1913, senators were elected by state legislatures, not by the people at large. The presidency, of course, is officially elected by the Electoral College. States allocate electors “in such manner as the legislature thereof may direct.” Therefore, states are not required to have a popular election for president, although today every state does so.
While the Constitution, then, excludes no one from voting, in practice in the founding era only New Jersey allowed women to vote, a right women lost there in the 1790s. The small number of free African Americans could vote in some places, but not in others. Of course, enslaved Blacks could not vote anywhere. Most jurisdictions had some kind of property requirement for voting, although the amount of property needed to vote was typically modest. Note, however, that all these exclusions were based on state and local law, not any constitutional provision.

What followed the Revolution was nothing short of a democratic wave. Taking “equality” and “consent of the governed” seriously, nearly every state rewrote its constitution. In each case, suffrage widened dramatically. By the mid-1790s, the United States had come close to universal free male suffrage, which in practice meant that almost all free men could vote for the House of Representatives. This stood in stark contrast to Great Britain, where roughly 85 percent of free men were still excluded from the polls.
On the presidential level, in the early years of the republic, states allocated electoral votes based on a vote of the state legislature. For example, in the 1796 presidential contest between Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, the first really contested presidential election, Adams won without a single popular vote being cast. In the 1820s, however, the nation rapidly moved toward states using popular votes to determine electoral votes. In 1824 nineteen of the twenty-four states used popular elections to allocate electoral votes. By 1832 every state but one used popular vote.

This is not to say that America could not do better. African-American males were guaranteed the right to vote by the Fifteenth Amendment, ratified in 1870. But systematic discrimination, especially in Southern states, kept Black voting low after the end of Reconstruction in 1876. The Black vote would not be truly secured until the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which protected voter registration, and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which put federal power behind guaranteeing the right to vote.

In 1869, the territorial constitution of Wyoming gave women the right to vote. Women voted in various jurisdictions in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, but that right was not guaranteed on the federal level until the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment in 1920.

Nonetheless, when compared to other democracies, America was at its founding and up to today remarkable for the widespread right to vote. Equality and consent of the governed have been vindicated.

 

Dr. Jon D. Schaff is Professor of Political Science at Northern State University in Aberdeen, South Dakota, where he has taught since 2001. He teaches classes in American political thought, American political institutions, as well as politics in literature and film. He is author of multiple articles and book chapters as well as two books:

Abraham Lincoln and the Limits of Liberal Democracy and Age of Anxiety: Meaning, Identity, and Politics in 21st Century Literature and Film (co-authored with Anthony Wachs).

He co-edited Humanitas History of America II: From Revolution to Reconstruction, 2 Vols for Classical Academic Press.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Edward Lee

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

Reflecting on the 1829 inauguration of the first president to not come from either Virginia or Massachusetts, Washingtonian Margaret Bayard Smith observed, “It was the People’s day, the People’s President, and the People would rule.” Andrew Jackson, son of the Carolina frontier, shaped by his own brutal adolescent experiences during the American Revolution, would create the dynasty of the common man (and woman). Power would shift from the hands of the well-born (John and John Quincy Adams) and well-educated (Thomas Jefferson and James Madison) and find refuge in the rough hands of a ferocious warrior, a violent man overflowing with passion and a vision for an executive branch controlled by “the People,” spreading opportunity and wealth to previously excluded Americans.

Accompanying the new president, grieving for his beloved Rachel, to the nation’s capital steps in March 1829, were men and women who were not shaped by genealogy, education, or inherited wealth. As the sun peeked out that March day, it became apparent to the common men and women of America that it was a new age. Jackson, the Hero of New Orleans, a battle fought in 1815 after the Treaty of Ghent had formally ended the War of 1812, confirmed in his inaugural address that authority was now reallocated. A new dynasty of the common man and woman was unveiled that chilly March day. Its architect was a rough Carolinian, a hero who imprinted his name and style on an era. Government would now be controlled by people like Andrew Jackson.

Jackson, the creator of the new dynasty of the common man and woman, swept Indigenous People westward. Even when the Cherokee Indian Nation won a landmark United States Supreme Court case in 1830 (Worcester v. Georgia), the president accelerated the pace of Indian Removal. In his judgment, the First Americans were impediments to growth; a favorable Supreme Court decision for the Cherokee meant nothing to Jackson. Barriers, impediments, were to be removed in what historian Arthur Schlesinger called in his Pulitzer Prize-winning study “the Age of Jackson.”

Similarly, Jackson’s 1832 battle over the renewal of Nicholas Biddle’s Bank of the United States sharply proved to be a barrier to financial opportunities for the common men and women. The president called the bank an “octopus” and a “monster.” He vowed to slay the monster and did just that, replacing the power of the Bank of the United States with smaller financial institutions, “pet banks,” sprinkling opportunities among the people. Confirming the need to terminate the Bank of America was Biddle’s close alliance with our foe Great Britain. To Jackson, it must be the Bank of the United States.

The president, despite his southern heritage and Tennessee residence, endorsed a protective tariff that benefitted the industries of the North. Jobs and opportunities became the president’s mantra. Manufacturing opportunities would be created in places like New York and Massachusetts, despite criticism from the agricultural South, which was led by Vice President (later Senator) John C. Calhoun. Even when the South “nullified” the protective tariff, Jackson advocated a compromise that strengthened the industries of the North while not abandoning the cotton-producing states. To Jackson, the American economy was multi-faceted and balanced; it should not have only regional benefits. A strong industrial base was good for the country as a whole.

During the Age of Jackson, the winds of the Civil War were kept at bay. The pro-slavery adherents would not yet go to war with the abolitionists in the 1830s. Publications such as David Walker’s 1829 “The Appeal to the Colored Citizens of the World” and William Lloyd Garrison’s 1832 “The Liberator” inflamed the public, but Jackson successfully navigated the churning seas between the pro- and anti-slavery adherents. Even the 1832 bloody slave insurrection led by Virginia’s Nat Turner would not ignite a race war. Because of his strength and judgment, there would be no Civil War during Jackson’s eight years in power.

The common men and women followed “the Hero of New Orleans” into a new political party: the Democrats. It drew vitality from Americans moving westward (despite the plight of the Indigenous People), a fairer banking system that coalesced after the death of the “octopus,” a truly national economy that developed the industrial North while not forsaking the agricultural South, and the potent leadership of Jackson himself. Unfortunately, this hero’s successors were uneven in their abilities to nurture the dynasty of the common man and woman and tumbled within a generation into a catastrophic conflict that cost 750,000 lives and created social, economic, and political upheaval that still manifests itself.

Dr. Edward Lee is a 41year veteran of the university classroom. He has won several awards for his exemplary teaching, including a Presidential Citation in 1996 for his pioneer work with distance education. He is the author or co-author of 22 books, including 4 about America and the conflict in Vietnam. His commentary has appeared on Fox News, CNN, NBC News, and National Public Radio. He is the past president of the South Carolina Historical Association. He served as an elected official in South Carolina for 22 years, and Governor Henry McMaster awarded Dr. Lee the Order of the Palmetto last year in recognition of his service to the people of South Carolina.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joerg Knipprath

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Rhode Island, in 1842, was the venue of a skirmish grandiosely called the Dorr War, after Thomas Dorr [Door], the leader of the ultimately losing side. That skirmish, in turn, was rooted in the broader political struggle playing out in the United States between adherents to the founding generation’s republicanism and the increasingly emboldened “common people” embracing the ideas and shibboleths [Shi-buh-leth] of Jacksonian Democracy.

Although the Constitution itself is silent on the point, most states in the founding decades required voters to possess a freehold estate in land, or in a few more democratic-minded states, to meet a surrogate standard based on otherwise taxable personal property. The requirement rested on classic republican doctrine generally endorsed by Americans at the time. The broad propertied middle and upper classes were the main sources of public revenue. Thus, they could safely be trusted to act wisely due to their keener interest in the overall effects of public policies and to act more independently because their property insulated them from vote-buying schemes and similar base enticements. Those with “skin in the game” would decide based on reflection and reason, not enthusiasm and passion.

The succeeding generations pushed for broader popular participation in formal political processes. This democratization in the first half of the 19th century led to the elimination in state constitutions of property ownership requirements to vote in state and federal elections. As a result, by mid-century, adult white male citizens generally could vote, as could some free adult Black males. The expansion of the electoral franchise continued over the next two generations, gradually granting a formal right to vote to non-white voters and to women. This historical current swept through Rhode Island as well, albeit in fits and starts. As in other states, the drive for constitutional reform of the electoral franchise was accompanied by demands to reform the framework of representation in the legislature.

At independence, Rhode Island kept its last royal charter as its state constitution, with changes made to reflect its new status. That charter, a generally progressive document for its time when granted by King Charles II in 1663, allowed only specified landowners to vote. Moreover, the charter apportioned representation in the state legislature on a geographical basis, with a specific number, at least two, allotted to each town, more for some larger towns.

Over the nearly two centuries of the charter’s existence, the population of Rhode Island had grown. Even more pressing, the legislature had become malapportioned [mal-uh-por-tioned] because some towns grew more than others as the economy changed due to industrialization. That industrialization also increased the number of landless male adults compared to the relatively stagnant number of qualified landowners, thereby exacerbating popular frustration and sense of disenfranchisement. Those landless adults were not an urban proletariat. Many were financially successful members of the commercial middle and upper classes.

The legislature stubbornly refused to drop the property requirement or to reapportion itself. In reaction, a popular movement, headed by Dorr, developed sufficient mass and political coherence to generate its own constitutional convention in 1841. The convention proposed a new constitution that extended the right to vote to adult white males without a property ownership requirement. It also reapportioned the legislature. This “People’s Constitution” was approved in December 1841 by an overwhelming majority of voters qualified under the new standard, as well as by a majority of voters who met the existing charter’s freehold qualifications.

Both factions held elections in April 1842 for a new legislature and executive offices. Dorr was elected governor in Providence under the People’s Constitution; Samuel King was re-elected in Newport under the Charter. At that point, the Charter government declared the new political structure illegal. After a failed attack on the state’s armory in Providence, the Dorrite movement collapsed. Dorr left the state. The Charter government proceeded to round up leading Dorrites, especially those who had participated in the Providence fracas. The controversy had run its course, at least as to armed conflict.

Dorr and his followers fervently justified their actions as “peaceable revolution” grounded in popular sovereignty. For them, the people, as the ultimate source of legitimacy for a government resting on consent of the governed, could not be controlled in foundational matters of self-government, not even by existing formal procedures for constitutional change.

That idea had gained currency during the latter part of the 18th century. Thomas Jefferson relied on it in the Declaration of Independence. In 1787, when Anti-Federalists challenged the proposed method of ratification in Article VII of the Constitution as violating the procedure prescribed in the Articles of Confederation, James Madison responded that any such deficiency would be overridden if the people, as the supreme authority, approved the Constitution. James Wilson, another delegate to the 1787 convention, likewise declared to the Pennsylvania ratifying convention that the “people may change the constitutions whenever and however they please. This is a right, of which no positive institution can ever deprive them.”

Those same arguments were made in favor of state constitutional conventions during the Age of Jackson. Their opponents claimed that such unbridled majoritarianism would promote instability, anarchy, and disrespect for the law. If one faction could go outside established forms and legitimize constitutional change simply by rousing a majority of the people to its side, so could any other faction. As Daniel Webster urged, such change must occur through formal procedures and within established channels, lest such unrestrained exercises of popular sovereignty threaten personal liberty and political stability. The debate over what, if any, limits exist to how the consent of the governed can be expressed peacefully when the existing order appears unresponsive to fundamental matters of public concern was not formally settled in Rhode Island in 1842. It remains unresolved today.

 

An expert on constitutional law, and member of the Southwestern Law School faculty, Professor Joerg W. Knipprath has been interviewed by print and broadcast media on a number of related topics ranging from recent U.S. Supreme Court decisions to presidential succession. He has written opinion pieces and articles on business and securities law as well as constitutional issues, and has focused his more recent research on the effect of judicial review on the evolution of constitutional law. He has also spoken on business law and contemporary constitutional issues before professional and community forums, and serves as a Constituting America Fellow.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Will Morrisey

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

If English John Locke was the philosophic father of the Declaration of Independence, France’s Baron de Montesquieu was the philosophic founder of the United States Constitution—America’s first ally in peace, even as French soldiers and sailors served as our first allies in the Revolutionary War.

In his 1714 treatise, The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu posed a question to his contemporaries. Democratic regimes could arise in ancient Greece because the small city-states could assemble the few thousand citizens in one place to make decisions. Since large modern states cannot do that, how can the people be heard?

He answered: with such institutions as representation and separated, balanced powers, modern regimes could become sustainable democratic republics. Seven decades later, Publius would make that argument in The Federalist, defending the Constitution during the struggle for its ratification. America, he wrote, could be a new kind of republic, an “extended” republic, large enough to defend itself against the powerful monarchic empires surrounding it while still enabling the sovereign people to govern themselves.

But how far could the extended republic extend beyond the original thirteen states? Here, too, Montesquieu had a thought—not a question and answer but a warning.

The Roman Republic had been an empire. As long as it extended no farther than Italy, its central institution, the senate, could rule effectively. “But when it carried its conquests further,” he wrote, “when the senate had no direct view of the provinces.” Rome sent proconsuls [pro-con-suls] to rule them, men who necessarily held legislative, executive, and judicial powers, since they ruled foreigners, not Romans. This made them resemble the Turkish despots of the modern world. Montesquieu calls them “the pashas of the republic.” Thus, the Roman republic built a regime contradiction into itself: “A conquering republic can scarcely extend its government and control the conquered state in accordance with the form of its constitution.” Resenting this tyranny, and especially the heavy taxes it imposed, the “subject nations” came “to regard the loss of liberty in Rome” as the precondition of “the establishment of their own” liberty. First, powerful military rulers in the provinces marched on Rome, ending republicanism and seizing power for themselves; eventually, the subject nations attacked the Roman emperors, ending Roman rule itself.

In the summer of 1787, as the delegates sweltered at the Constitutional Convention addressing Montesquieu’s question about popular self-government, members of the Continental Congress addressed Montesquieu’s warning about republican empires, framing the Northwest Ordinance, which historian Peter S. Onuf called “the blueprint for a great American empire of continental dimensions.” How could a republic establish an empire without destroying itself in the long run? How could it secure the natural and civil rights of citizens who took the risk of moving into what was then the Wild West—not Texas, Arizona, or New Mexico, but the places we now know as Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, and Wisconsin?

Their answer was that ‘we won’t have a colonial empire, like Rome or the British Empire that was modeled on Rome. We will not keep the western territories subordinate to the original states. We will prepare them to stand up “on an equal footing” with those states in the American Union. The settlers will become citizens enjoying civil equality, including guarantees of religious liberty, representative government, and the rights of habeas corpus and jury trials. To these political guarantees we will add commercial ties to the rest of the country that property rights foster.’

Crucially, Congress demonstrated that it understood what way of life comported with republican citizenship. “Religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, Schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.” Civic education, pervaded by Biblical morality, had already been established in New England when they were still colonies, where most of the settlers in the Northwest territories would come from. The Ordinance ensured that they would bring their schooling with them to civilize the frontier.

Enacting the Northwest Ordinance was one thing; implementing it was another. The prolongation of federal rule, including control of public lands; the borders between future states (Ohio and Michigan nearly went to war over Toledo,) the increasingly vexed matter of slavery, which the Ordinance banned from the territories, but some settlers wanted to introduce; and even the Ordinance’s authority over the settlers, some of whom claimed that popular sovereignty overrode Congressional law—all of these occasioned bitter polemics between the territories and Congress, and among the settlers themselves.

Unlike the North-South regime dispute over slavery, eventually resolved by a brutal civil war, the disputes over the Northwest territories ended peacefully. Animated by the principles of the Declaration of Independence and governed under the United States Constitution, America would indeed become a lasting republican empire, thanks in part to the Northwest Ordinance, in what Thomas Jefferson called the “empire of liberty.”

 

Will Morrisey is a native of Rumson, New Jersey. He has a B.A. from Kenyon College, an M.A. and Ph.D. in political science from the New School for Social Research. A professor emeritus of Politics at Hillsdale College, he is the author of ten books, including Self-Government, The American Theme: Presidents of the Founding and Civil War. His essays and book reviews can be found online at Will Morrisey Reviews.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Daniel Cotter

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

In the years following the Revolutionary War, the new United States faced extraordinary challenges. The nation was burdened by war debt, unsettled territorial claims, conflicts with Indigenous peoples, and concerns that ungoverned western expansion might lead to disorder. As thousands of settlers looked westward beyond the Appalachian Mountains, the American experiment depended on a framework that could establish legal order, encourage economic growth, honor republican ideals, and prevent the emergence of colonial-style exploitation. The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 emerged as one of the most important legislative achievements of the era, shaping the future development of the United States more than perhaps any law except the Constitution itself. Central to its crafting, advocacy, and ultimate success was Manasseh Cutler, a clergyman, scholar, and statesman.

The Northwest Ordinance directly reflected the ideals expressed in the Declaration of Independence. The Declaration proclaimed that legitimate government derives from the consent of the governed and exists to secure natural rights. However, turning those ideals into functioning institutions required thoughtful design. In the territory north of the Ohio River and east of the Mississippi River, an immense region that would eventually become Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and part of Minnesota, the United States faced the task of building new communities aligned with self-government rather than replicating systems of imposed colonial rule. The Northwest Ordinance provided a blueprint for transforming unorganized territory into future states with equal status to the original thirteen. It rested on the principle that all new citizens deserved the same political rights and opportunities enjoyed by those on the eastern seaboard. In this way, the ordinance operationalized the Declaration’s assertion that all people possess inherent rights and should enjoy representation and liberty rather than domination.

Manasseh Cutler played a crucial role in shaping the philosophical and structural content of the ordinance and wrote the section of it prohibiting slavery in the Northwest Territory. Cutler believed that settlement should not merely provide land for individuals but should establish educated, virtuous, and civically engaged communities. Drawing on New England traditions, he advocated for schools, churches, and town-based local government. His influence helped ensure that the ordinance contained provisions supporting education, civil liberties, and moral standards, cornerstones of a free republican society. The famous clause declaring that “religion, morality, and knowledge” are “necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind” helped establish education as a public responsibility. This reflected not only Enlightenment thought, but also the Declaration’s insistence that citizens must be capable of governing themselves.

The Northwest Ordinance also represented an important step in the development of the Constitution. Drafted under the Articles of Confederation, the ordinance succeeded where many other national initiatives failed, demonstrating the need for a stronger, more effective central government. Its clear rules for territorial administration, property rights, and civil governance foreshadowed constitutional structures adopted only months later in 1787 at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia. The ordinance established fundamental rights that paralleled those soon guaranteed in the Bill of Rights: trial by jury, due process, habeas corpus, freedom of religion, and protection from cruel or unusual punishment. By embedding these liberties in the nation’s first major territorial law, the ordinance confirmed that rights were not limited to long-settled coastal populations but applied uniformly across the republic. In that sense, the Northwest Ordinance functioned as a founding document, bridging the Declaration’s ideals and the Constitution’s practical framework.

One of the most historically consequential provisions of the ordinance was its prohibition of slavery in the Northwest Territory. Although not eliminating slavery nationwide, the ordinance marked the first time the national government placed a boundary on the institution’s expansion. This decision had long-term implications for the balance of free and slave states and demonstrated that American founding principles would be contested, interpreted, and applied over time. While the effects of this provision were complex and imperfect, it reflected an aspiration consistent with the Declaration’s claim that all people are created equal and possessed of natural rights.

Cutler’s advocacy and vision helped ensure that the ordinance promoted not only settlement but also civic virtue. He understood that new communities required more than land. They needed education, law, faith communities, and civic institutions. These components formed the building blocks of future states that would join the Union on equal footing, not as subordinates. In this respect, the Northwest Ordinance stands alongside the Declaration and the Constitution as a foundational expression of American nation-building.

The Northwest Ordinance, shaped significantly by Manasseh Cutler, transformed American expansion into an organized, rights-based, and principle-driven project. It aligned the promise of the Declaration with the constitutional framework soon to follow, ensuring that as the nation grew, its founding ideals would grow with it. The American West would not develop as a series of colonies but as equal partners in a federal republic—fulfilling the experiment in liberty that began in 1776.

 

Daniel A. Cotter is Member at Aronberg Goldgehn. Dan focuses his practices in a variety of areas of corporate law and litigation, including insurance law, complex business disputes and counseling, employment law, corporate transactions, corporate governance and compliance, and cybersecurity and privacy law. Dan was an adjunct professor at UIC College of Law, fka, The John Marshall Law School, and has taught Insurance Law, Accounting for Lawyers and SCOTUS Judicial Biography. Dan graduated summa cum laude from UIC College of Law and received his B.A. in Accounting from Monmouth College, magna cum laude. Dan is a frequent writer and presenter on various topics, including the nation’s history and the Supreme Court, and in 2019, his book, “The Chief Justices,” was published.”

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Scot Faulkner

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

America’s westward expansion reshaped the way the world worked. Never before had a national government strategically outlined how settlement would evolve, how new lands would be governed, and how settler rights would be protected.

The movement of people into unsettled or unorganized land was historically shaped by conquest and occupation. Settler rights and representation were at best an afterthought. Rome and other empires granted land to soldiers and political favorites. England and the other European powers granted specific charters for colonies and trading zones. In all cases, these expansions were tied to existing centralized powers and their agendas.

Colonial America found ways to leverage the tangle of charters and geographic distance from England into local self-government. These early forms of representative government closely tied to communities created the foundation of America’s unique civic culture. This led to the Revolutionary War when Britain attempted to undermine this civic culture and constrain the consent of the governed.

America applied the lessons of the Revolution as it was inventing itself under the Articles of Confederation. The grand experiment was how a nation preserves self-governance and protects fundamental rights as it expands territorially. The laboratory for expanding democracy was the unmapped expanse of land beyond the Appalachian Mountains.

In 1670, John Lederer crossed over the Appalachian/Blue Ridge Mountains to explore the Shenandoah River valley and other western lands. In the 1730s, Jost Hite led the first organized group of settlers into this region.

Others soon followed. British King George II allowed westward expansion to counter France’s North American ambitions. King George III, on the other hand, wanted to consolidate American colonists into the narrow coastal region along the eastern seaboard. Preventing westward expansion avoided unnecessary conflicts with Native Americans, allowing England to focus on tightening its control over its colonies.

On October 7, 1763, King George III issued the Proclamation of 1763, forbidding colonists from settling west of the Appalachians. The King demanded that settlers already living west of this new “Proclamation Line” abandon their homesteads and return east. He further prohibited commerce with Native Americans except with traders licensed by the Crown.

Daniel Boone (1734-1820) was among many who ignored the Proclamation, leading legions of settlers into the west through the newly discovered Cumberland Gap (1769).
On January 14, 1784, the Continental Congress ratified the Treaty of Paris, which formally ended the American Revolution. The treaty granted the new nation all British lands from the Proclamation Line to the Mississippi River.

Southern states immediately claimed land to their west all the way to the Mississippi River. This left unclaimed land, known as the “Territory of the United States North West of the Ohio River” to administer. This vast unsettled area was both an unprecedented challenge and opportunity.

Thomas Jefferson proposed the Ordinance of 1784 as a framework for organizing this area. His approach was too complex to implement, but it framed future discussions.
On July 13, 1787, the Continental Congress adopted the Northwest Ordinance, crafted by Nathan Dane and Rufus King, both delegates from Massachusetts.

The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 is considered by historians and constitutional scholars as one of America’s most important founding documents, taking its place with the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.

The Ordinance outlined how American settlers in this region would govern themselves, be incorporated into the United States as citizens of new states, and enjoy the basic protections of rights and freedoms. These provisions would guide America’s expansion into the 20th Century.

The Ordinance established a three-stage process for unsettled land to evolve from a federally governed area into a self-governing territory and eventually into a state admitted into the Union as its population grew. It provided for the settlers of these lands to adopt their own state constitution based on the rule of law and consent of the governed. It embraced local governance and federalism, anticipating the U.S. Constitution, which was under consideration at this time (May-September 1787).

The Ordinance’s other key component was Section 14. Its Articles anticipated the Bill of Rights (September 1789-December 1791). This included rights to habeas corpus, trial by jury, due process relating to property, preventing cruel or unusual punishments, and freedom of religion.

The Ordinance’s Section 14, Article 6, prohibited slavery: “There shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude in the said territory.” This incendiary issue was deferred in the U.S. Constitution and only resolved when the 13th Amendment was adopted on December 6, 1865.

The Article 6 prohibition of slavery set the line between free and slave regions. It established the precedent and future conflict over limiting the westward expansion of slavery. Prohibiting slavery in the Northwest shifted the region’s settlement demographics. Slaveholders avoided the Northwest territories while “free laborers” and immigrants flocked there. These ancestral demographics shape the culture and politics of this region to this day.

 

Scot Faulkner was the Chief Administrative Of icer of the U.S. House of Representatives. Earlier, he served on the White House staff. He is Vice President of the George Washington Institute of Living Ethics at Shepherd University and the President of Friends of Harpers Ferry National Historical Park.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Christopher Burkett

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

Americans have done many political things in new and unique ways from their very beginning. When establishing independence, they decided that “a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.” After declaring independence, most of the original states decided that written Declarations of Rights – clearly delineating the legitimate powers and limits of governments – were essential characteristics of republican constitutions. When framing the new Federal Constitution in 1787, they decided this should be done by delegates selected by the legislatures of each state. But perhaps most unique of all was the manner in which the new Federal Constitution was to be ratified. It was to be ratified in a manner that was not only federal (that is, on a state-by-state basis) but also involving a unique democratic quality.

The democratic mode of ratification meant, first of all, that the American people were invited to discuss, deliberate upon, and debate the Constitution after it was drafted by the framers at Philadelphia in 1787. In what is known as the “out of doors” debates over ratification, people met and debated the Constitution in public places, private homes, churches – even on street corners when someone would read aloud newspaper essays supporting or opposing ratification. Federalist and Antifederalist essayists alike usually introduced their first essays with a call to the American people to carefully consider the proposed Constitution and its possible effects on domestic stability, national security, and the rights and liberties that had been fought for during the Revolution. As New York Antifederalist Brutus wrote in his first essay, “The most important question that was ever proposed to your decision, or to the decision of any people under heaven, is before you.” And Publius (Alexander Hamilton) wrote in The Federalist No. 1:

[I]t seems to have been reserved to the people of this country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not, of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend, for their political constitutions, on accident and force. … [A] wrong election of the part we shall act, may, in this view, deserve to be considered as the general misfortune of mankind.

In a more formal sense – in what is called the “Indoors” debates – the democratic mode of approving the Constitution meant that it must be ratified not by state legislatures (as had been the case with the Articles of Confederation) but by the people themselves through popularly elected delegates to their respective state ratifying conventions. This idea was struck upon by a young James Madison, who thought it wrong that the Virginia state constitution of 1776 was ratified not by the people of the state but by their state legislature. Madison (who served in the legislature that drafted the Virginia constitution) found this problematic because the authority of all constitutions ought to rest upon the consent of the people themselves. The same held true for the proposed Federal Constitution in 1787: rather than be approved by Congress, it ought to be ratified by state conventions consisting of delegates elected by the people themselves. To this end, elections were held in each state (including, eventually, Rhode Island) for delegates to attend state ratifying conventions. Some state conventions approved the Constitution rather quickly (three days in Delaware, three weeks in Pennsylvania, and a week in New Jersey, Georgia, and Connecticut). In the key states of Massachusetts, Virginia, and New York, opponents to the Constitution initially outnumbered supporters, and these conventions spawned hotly contested debates as delegates argued over nearly every aspect of the proposed Constitution. Eventually, New Hampshire was the ninth state to ratify, but only by a vote of 57 delegates for ratification, and 47 opposed.

So why were these state ratification debates so important? For one, as mentioned earlier, it was proof that a people could freely deliberate upon and choose its own Constitution without relying on “accident and force.” Second, the conventions brought together people of diverse political positions and allowed for concerns to be freely expressed, promoting a greater understanding of the views of both Federalists and Antifederalists. In this sense, the views of both Federalists and Antifederalists make up what one might call the American Constitutional Mind. This is why James Madison himself – the Father of the Constitution – considered the state ratification debates so important to understanding the meaning of the Constitution. “[W]hatever veneration might be entertained for the body of men who formed our Constitution,” Madison said, the sense of that body could never be regarded as the oracular guide in expounding the Constitution. As the instrument came from them, it was nothing more than the draft of a plan, nothing but a dead letter, until life and validity were breathed into it by the voice of the people, speaking through the several State Conventions. If we were to look, therefore, for the meaning of the instrument beyond the face of the instrument, we must look for it, not in the General Convention, which proposed, but in the State Conventions, which accepted and ratified the Constitution.

 

Christopher Burkett is Associate Professor of Political Science at Ashland University and Academic Director of the Ashbrook Scholar Program and Academies. He is editor of Ashbrook’s 50 Core American Documents, and has written on the American Founding, Progressivism, and American Foreign Policy. He holds a B.A. from Ashland University, and received his Ph.D. from the University of Dallas.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Tom Hand

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

In the summer of 1787, leaders from across the United States gathered in Philadelphia for the stated purpose of fixing flaws in the Articles of Confederation. But in the minds of nationalists like James Madison, fixing issues with the Articles was not the answer. What was needed was an entirely new form of government that could allow the fledgling nation to grow. This convention, known at the time as the Philadelphia or Federal Convention was largely organized by Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and the government created at that gathering bore Madison’s indelible stamp.

To give the gathering the credibility it needed to make significant changes to the government, Madison and Hamilton recognized the importance of having both Benjamin Franklin and George Washington in attendance, thus implying their tacit approval. Franklin, despite his age (he was 81) and constant issues with gout, happily attended, telling his friend Benjamin Rush that the convention was “the most august and respectable assembly he was ever in in his life.” And, after much consideration and numerous letters and visits from Madison, Washington also agreed to attend. In a sign of the importance Madison placed on this convention, he assigned himself the task of taking detailed notes each day and refining them each night, leaving to posterity the most complete record of the convention.

In terms of the debate, the single most critical issue to be resolved was how representation in Congress would be determined, for with more representatives came more power. Madison believed that all representation should be based on population, not surprising given his home state of Virginia was the most populous state in the country. And to that end, when Edmund Randolph, Governor of Virginia, proposed his Virginia Plan, fifteen resolutions that were essentially Madison’s concept for the new government, the basis of the plan called for representation according to population in both chambers of Congress. But smaller states had little desire to join a national union that diminished their influence. As such, William Patterson of New Jersey put forth what has come to be known as the New Jersey Plan, which called for equal representation in Congress for each state. Madison was at the center of this heated debate, without question the most intense of the entire convention, and his grasp of constitutional law and structure impressed all delegates. William Pierce of Georgia stated that of “the affairs of the United States, he (Madison) perhaps, had the most correct knowledge of any man in the Union.”

From these two conflicting plans, Roger Sherman crafted the Great or Connecticut Compromise which called for representation in the lower chamber (the House of Representatives) to be proportional according to population, but for all states to have equal representation in the upper chamber (the Senate). Madison strongly opposed this compromise, but ultimately, Sherman’s proposal was adopted by a single vote. Despite this defeat and the disappointment felt by Madison and Washington, this compromise was a win for the nation as it prevented a premature end to the convention. As Madison later stated, “The threatening contest in the convention of 1787 did not, as you supposed, turn on the degree of power to be granted to the federal government, but on the rule by which the states should be represented and vote in government.”

And after the adoption of the Great Compromise, everything got easier; every issue was more easily overcome, and other compromises were more easily found. Madison later wrote that, “from the day when every doubt of the right of the smaller states to an equal vote in the Senate was quieted, they…exceeded all others in zeal for granting power to the general government.” The smaller states recognized that a country unified behind a strong central government offered them a degree of protection that they could never achieve on their own. Ultimately, the Constitution was signed on September 17, 1787, by thirty-nine delegates representing twelve states (Rhode Island did not send a delegation). But that passage was only the first step in the adoption process. The next step, perhaps the most important, was getting the states to approve the Constitution at their separate ratifying conventions.

To help convince skeptical Americans of the merits of the new Constitution, Madison, Hamilton and John Jay, in the fall of 1787, drafted a series of articles that have come to be known as The Federalist Papers. This series of eighty-five essays, arguably the greatest collection of writings ever on a federal constitutional government, laid out for the American public the argument for the adoption of the new constitution. Hamilton took the lead on these essays, writing fifty-one of them, while Madison drafted twenty- nine and Jay five (poor health limited Jay’s participation). While Madison’s contribution quantitatively was less than Hamilton’s; two of Madison’s essays are among the most prominent of the series. Federalist #10 argues that the sort of representative democracy proposed by the Constitution was the greatest safeguard against the excesses of partisanship and factionalism, while Federalist #51 explains the need for a series of checks and balances between the three branches of government (legislative, executive, judicial) to hold those who govern in check, with Madison famously writing, “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.”

Across the nation, eyes turned toward Virginia to see what direction that state would go, as many prominent Virginians including Patrick Henry and George Mason were known to oppose the proposed Constitution. All understood that without Virginia’s approval, the Constitution could not be implemented. At the Virginia ratifying convention in June 1788, countering Henry’s great oratory with precise, logical arguments on the benefits of the Constitution, Madison carried the day, and the constitutionalists ultimately prevailed.

Thus, at every step in the constitutional process, James Madison took the lead. Madison organized the Constitutional convention, drafted the basic outline of the Constitution, recorded the proceedings for posterity, wrote many of the essays that swayed his fellow citizens, and was instrumental in convincing Virginians to adopt the new law of the land. No other Founding Father played such an outsized role in creating our nation’s Constitution.

Tom Hand created Americana Corner in 2020 to share informative stories of the momentous events, significant documents and influential leaders that helped create and shape our country. Through compelling articles and captivating videos, Tom hopes to rekindle a spirit of patriotism in his fellow Americans, and remind them of our nation’s incredible past and why our founding era still matters today.


He is the author of a growing series of books that reflect his deep commitment to early American History:
An American Triumph: America’s Founding Era through the Lives of Ben Franklin, George Washington, and John Adams –– an engaging narrative that blends the personal experiences and historic milestones of three Founding Fathers enriched by 130 images and a dozen detailed maps.


America Victorious: Lesser-Known Campaigns and Commanders That Helped Win American Independence –– a companion volume that highlights the lesser-known heroes who fought for our nation’s independence across countless battlefields in the early republic.


Tom’s passion for telling the Great American Story extends to preserving its cultural and historical treasures through the Preserving America program. This nationwide initiative supports a diverse range of projects through grants, fosters long-term partnerships with historical organizations, and hosts an annual conference that brings together leaders in preservation and public history to share best practices, exchange ideas, and inspire collaboration.


A graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point (Class of 1982), Tom went on to create the Gilman Cheese Corporation after leaving the military. Now retired from business, Tom devotes his time to Americana Corner and serves on the Board of Trustees for the American Battlefield Trust. He has the good fortune to be married to his best friend, Char, who reviews all his work and provides unending support. He enjoys reading books on American history, classic novels, and playing his guitar.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Randolph J. May

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg AbbottEssay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

 

In declaring the purposes of establishing a new government under the newly-drafted Constitution, the Preamble is elegant in its simplicity: “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

The three words – “We the People” – at the beginning arguably are the most important of all the 4543 words contained in the Constitution signed in Philadelphia on September 17, 1787. After a long, hot summer of debate, we can be sure that the Constitution’s first three words were not chosen casually. The Constitution’s framers were well aware of the importance of beginning the Preamble with “We the People.” Indeed, by the time the delegates met in Philadelphia, the phrase had already appeared in two state constitutions, New Hampshire and Massachusetts.

The Convention that produced the Constitution was attended by only 55 delegates, not all of whom were in attendance throughout. And, the Constitution of 1787 was signed by only 39 of them. So, for the new governing document to gain legitimacy as a source of authority for what was to become the fundamental law of the land, “We the People” needed to be more than a felicitous opening. It needed to be the means for what the small group of men meeting in Philadelphia had wrought to be accepted as an expression of the sovereign will of the people. Consistent with Lockean social contract theory familiar to the framers, it needed to be transformed into the embodiment of the “consent of the people.”

How to accomplish this? The Constitution contained within itself the direction. Article VII provided: “The Ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the establishment of this Constitution between the states so ratifying the Same.” So at least three-fourths of the states would be required to ratify the Constitution for it to become effective. But more importantly for present purposes, the framers bypassed the legislatures then existing in each state in favor of special conventions comprised of delegates elected by the people themselves.

This ratification process meant that the Constitution, from its inception, would rest on a firmer foundation of popular sovereignty as an expression of “We the People” than if ratification had been left to agreement among the existing state governments. This was a key difference between the new Constitution and the Articles of Confederation, which it would supplant: the government under the Articles was established by a compact among the states and drew its authority from the states.

Thus, as James Madison put it in Federalist No. 39, the Constitution “is to be founded on the assent and ratification of the people of America, given by deputies elected for the special purpose.” While the Constitution required nine states to approve, as Madison went to declare in No. 39, the ratification vote in each of the special state conventions would be “derived from the supreme authority in each State, the authority of the people themselves.” [Emphasis added.] In other words, the conventions in the several states, called specifically for the purpose of considering ratification of the Constitution with delegates elected for that specific purpose, necessarily would be expressions of the sovereign will of the people.

The battles in the state conventions between the Federalists and the Anti-Federalists were heated. In general, the Federalists – like James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay, the authors of the pro-ratification Federalist Papers – contended that the Constitution, embodying the people’s collective will, established an effective government that, at the same time, protected liberty by virtue of separation of powers. The Anti-Federalists contended that the Constitution infringed too much on state sovereignty, thereby impeding the states from protecting individual rights. But, the important point for present purposes is that the vigorous debates by delegates elected to conventions for the specific purpose of deciding ratification constituted the means of expressing the people’s sovereign will.

In sum, the state ratifying conventions and the vigorous debates among the elected delegates in those conventions were the devices by which the Constitution itself envisioned that the new government would rest on a foundation of popular consent. The conventions were how “We the People” gave our assent to be governed by a new Constitution, which, by its own terms in Article VI, is ” the supreme Law of the Land.”

 

Randolph J. May is Founder and President of The Free State Foundation, an independent, non-profit free market-oriented think tank founded in 2006. From October 1999-May 2006, Mr. May was a Senior Fellow and Director of Communications Policy Studies at The Progress & Freedom Foundation. Prior to that, he practiced communications, administrative, and regulatory law as a partner at major national law firms. From 1978 to 1981, May served as Assistant General Counsel and Associate General Counsel at the Federal Communication Commission. He has held numerous leadership positions in bar associations and professional organizations, including serving as Chair of the American Bar Association’s Section of Administrative Law and Regulatory Practice, a Fellow of the National Academy of Public Administration, and as a Public Member of the Administrative Conference of the United States. Mr. May has published more than four hundred articles and essays on communications, administrative and constitutional law topics.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Tony Williams

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

In the 1760s and 1770s, several enslaved people sued slaveholders in New England courts for their freedom. They also used the traditional British right of petition to ask colonial legislators for their freedom. Enslaved people pursued these “freedom suits” and “freedom petitions” by claiming the rights and liberties in American founding documents. Black Americans appealed to the same universal ideals of natural rights, liberty, and equality.

A young lawyer named John Adams observed that New England enslaved people were influenced by the rights talk that was so pervasive in print and conversations in the years before the start of the Revolutionary War. He noted, “The arguments in favour of their Liberty were much the same as have been urged since in Pamphlets and Newspapers, in Debates in Parliament &c. arising from the Rights of Mankind.” Initially, slaves used the courts to confront the institution of slavery and secure liberty, equality, and inalienable rights.

In 1766, Jenny Slew of Ipswich courageously sued her master, John Whipple, for her freedom in a Salem, Massachusetts, court in late 1766. Slew stated that her master had “kept her in servitude as a slave in his service and restrained her of her liberty.” She won her freedom in a second trial and paved the way for others. Indeed, Adams witnessed the case and wrote in his diary, “This is all’d suing for Liberty; the first Action that ever I knew, of the Sort, tho I have heard there have been many.” Slew’s freedom suit was the first of many actions before the Revolutionary War by enslaved people to obtain the same natural rights as white colonists.
New England slaves also sent freedom petitions to legislatures. In 1773, four slaves—Peter Bestes, Sambo Freeman, Felix Holbrook, and Chester Joie—submitted a petition to the Massachusetts General Court claiming “the divine spirit of freedom.” They expected liberty from the colonists who were struggling for their own liberties and fighting oppression. They asserted their inalienable rights that “as men, we have a natural right to.”

State constitutions and the Declaration of Independence were founding documents that provided additional principled foundations for enslaved freedom suits and freedom petitions. Slaves in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire all submitted freedom petitions claiming their natural rights based upon the idea in the Declaration that “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” The New Hampshire petitioners asserted that, “The God of Nature made us free.” They proceeded to claim the rights of “our lives, freedom, and property.”

The 1780 Massachusetts Constitution, drafted by John Adams, stated, “All men are born free and equal, and have certain natural, essential, and unalienable rights; among which may be reckoned the right of enjoying and defending their lives and liberties.”

Enslaved people, Quock Walker and Mum Bett, separately sued for their freedom and appealed to the principles in the state constitution. In 1783, Chief Justice William Cushing of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court heard Walker’s case and quoted the state constitution when he charged the jury. “All men are born free and equal and that every subject is entitled to liberty, and to have it guarded by the laws as well as his life and property.” On that basis, Cushing said, “the court are therefore of the opinion that perpetual servitude can no longer be tolerated in our government.” Thus, both Walker and Bett (who adopted the symbolic name Elizabeth Freeman) were free.

The principles in American founding documents continued to undermine slavery beyond New England freedom petitions and freedom suits. Freedom principles caused enslaved people to run away to the British during the Revolutionary War. Throughout the North, the Declaration of Independence inspired state legislatures to emancipate their slaves outright or gradually. The Northwest Ordinance banned slavery in the Northwest Territory. Slaveholders in the North and the Upper South were inspired by the Declaration and its contradiction with slavery to privately manumit, or free, their slaves.

Whereas few colonists questioned the institution of slavery before the American Revolution, the principles of American founding documents caused many to oppose slavery. Tragically, however, slavery endured and grew until the Civil War.

 

Tony Williams is a senior fellow at the Bill Of Rights Institute and a fellow for Constituting America. He is the author of seven books on the American founding, including the forthcoming “Divided Over the Declaration: How an Enduring Debate Sustains the Vision of America” with David Bobb.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Lucas Morel

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The story of how an enslaved black woman known as “Mum Bett” (aka “Elizabeth Freeman”) won her freedom by suing in state court during the Revolutionary War illustrates personal courage and legal daring, while also showcasing a foundational principle of the Declaration of Independence—consent—which was an important feature of the Massachusetts Constitution.

Although no black Americans helped frame that constitution, the freedom lawsuits of Mum Bett and other enslaved black people in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts led not only to their individual manumission but also to the abolition of slavery in Massachusetts between 1781 and 1783. Freeman can be considered a hero of consent because her liberation by lawsuit reinforced the idea that people should not be forced to work, let alone follow any laws, without gaining their permission first. Freeman’s lawsuit to reclaim her own authority and control over her life was no different than the revolutionary slogan, “No taxation without representation.” Both were the product of the American Revolution; both sought to prevent slavery from continuing in the American states once independence from England was achieved.

Born in 1744 in New York, she was later enslaved to Colonel John Ashley under the law of the Massachusetts colony. Freeman grew up not learning how to read or write. In 1780, with the war for American independence still underway, the citizens of Massachusetts wrote a new constitution for themselves. Its Declaration of Rights begins: “All men are born free and equal, and have certain natural, essential, and unalienable rights.” The Massachusetts constitution also speaks of a “social compact” and a “voluntary association of individuals.” Equality, individual rights, compact, and voluntary association all point to consent.

Freeman overheard a conversation about the new Massachusetts constitution, which affirmed the natural equality of all human beings regardless of whether a person was black or white, female or male. She knew slavery was wrong; people should have to get her consent before telling her what to do. However, Freeman’s awareness that her status as a slave was a denial of her consent was only the start of her journey to freedom. She needed the protection of the laws and courts. Freeman did not allow unjust circumstances, like racist laws or social norms, to prevent her from seeking to be free in the eyes of the law and the constitution of Massachusetts. She did not wait for her environment to change before she exercised her freedom to sue for her rights, and see if the men, laws, and constitution of Massachusetts would give her justice.
There was no guarantee that she would win her lawsuit, but Freeman bravely sued for her freedom from her legal master. On August 22, 1781, in the case of Brom and Bett v. Ashley, a jury composed entirely of white men declared that Bett and another slave named Brom were not “legal servants” of John Ashley and awarded them thirty shillings and assessed Ashley court costs. To her credit, and the credit of the judge in her case and the jury of men who decided her fate, the case led not only to her freedom but also contributed to the abolition of slavery throughout Massachusetts as other men and women sued for their freedom and won.

The successful freedom suit of Quock Walker, in The Commonwealth v. Nathaniel Jennison (1783), is an instructive case for the reasoning offered by the presiding judge, Chief Justice William Cushing. He delivered a charge to the jury stating that “a different idea has taken place with the people of America,” unlike the “usage” of European nations and the British government of the American colonies prior to the American Revolution. The American idea is “more favorable to the natural rights of mankind, and to that natural, innate desire of Liberty, with which Heaven (without regard to color . . .) has inspired all the human race.” Citing the Massachusetts Constitution, “all men are born free and equal,” Justice Cushing concluded that it “is totally repugnant to the idea of being born slaves.” Therefore, “the idea of slavery is inconsistent with our own conduct and Constitution; and there can be no such thing as perpetual servitude of a rational creature.” The jury found Nathaniel Jennison guilty of “assaulting, beating, and imprisoning Quock Walker.” Jennison was fined, and Walker regained his freedom under the law. The cases of Bett, Brom, and Walker contributed to the abolition of slavery in Massachusetts just as the American colonies secured their independence from England. Their collective heroism cemented the idea of consent as a bedrock principle of the American Revolution.

After winning her freedom suit, Mum Bett changed her name to Elizabeth Freeman. She then joined the household of her attorney, Theodore Sedgwick, as a paid domestic worker and governess. She would eventually earn enough money to buy a house and land for herself and her children. Elizabeth Freeman died on December 28, 1829, and was buried in the Sedgwick family plot.

Lucas E. Morel is the John K. Boardman, Jr. Professor of Politics and head of the Politics Department at Washington and Lee University. His publications include Measuring the Man: The Writings of Frederick Douglass on Abraham Lincoln; Lincoln and the American Founding; Lincoln and Liberty: Wisdom for the Ages; and Lincoln’s Sacred Effort: Defining Religion’s Role in American Self-Government. He is a founding member of the Academic Freedom Alliance; former president of the Abraham Lincoln Institute; a consultant on exhibits at the National Archives, National Park Service, and Library of Congress; moderator of high school teacher workshops for the Jack Miller Center, Hillel-Civic Spirit, Ashbrook Center, and Gilder Lehrman Institute; and member of the U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission, which is planning the 2026 national celebration of the birth of the United States.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: C.C. Borzilleri

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Freedom was the word on everyone’s lips in the eighteenth century, including the enslaved people throughout the rebelling colonies and new states formed during the American Revolution.

Establishing legal claims to freedom was a complicated process for enslaved persons bringing lawsuits and petitions to American colonial and early state legislatures. In areas where enslavement was legal, a suit or petition for freedom had to prove a condition and exception of unjust slavery within the larger system. In jurisdictions with bans on enslavement, claims to freedom depended in part on proving that an enslaved person was not a fugitive from a slaveholder in another jurisdiction. Nevertheless, taking legal action for the cause of freedom was a popular practice. Colonial and early state legislatures and courts received thousands of petitions and suits from individuals and groups of enslaved people hoping to leverage the system in their favor. Working within the bounds of legality, enslaved persons sought freedom using legal precedent and the same

philosophical principles that were guiding the colonists’ efforts towards their own independence.

Some scholars make direct, causal linkages between freedom petitions and suits and the Declaration of Independence. A more certain takeaway from all of these documents is the confirmation of a political environment excitable by the ideas and promises of freedom, in all of its manifestations, throughout the eighteenth century. Freedom felt just within grasp of rebelling colonists and enslaved persons alike, and a common language and set of principles united their fights to claim it.

Before, during, and after the American Revolution, enslaved people filed petitions and lawsuits looking to establish a claim to freedom relied upon the philosophical milieu of Enlightenment and religious ideals that colonists also drew upon as their basis for separation from Great Britain. In many cases, the same newspapers circulating the political ideas of liberty in the context of colonial relations also printed claims to freedom from enslaved petitioners.

On July 29, 1773, Isaiah Thomas’s Massachusetts Spy printed the transcript of a freedom petition submitted by a group of enslaved men to Massachusetts Governor Thomas Hutchinson. The petition asserted that “no person can have any just claim to their services unless by the laws of the land they have forfeited them, or by voluntary compact become servants.” In doing so, these men declared their right to consent and the injustice of subjugation when that consent was not granted. These petitioners, just like their colonial contemporaries, could not be forced into service, of any sort, without granting permission to such an arrangement.

Directly above this petition on the front page of the Spy, Thomas’s regular masthead declared, “Do thou, Great LIBERTY, inspire our Souls, — and make our Lives in thy Possession happy, – Or, our Deaths glorious in thy just defense.” This profession of dedication to the cause of liberty, coming from British playwright Joseph Addison’s 1713 Cato, A Tragedy, served to unite ideas of classical liberty, the enlightenment philosophies of the eighteenth century, and the causes of colonized and enslaved individuals alike. The great effort of seeking liberty, of thinking and acting without unjust, external restraint, underlaid the common experiences of humanity across time, place, and race.

The printing and circulation of petitions and lawsuits from enslaved people in newspapers both contributed to and reflected the greater cultural psyche of freedom. The principle of consent of the governed, that individuals had a natural and inalienable right to decide for themselves who could rule them, consistently manifested throughout the legal cases brought forward.

Then in 1776, the Declaration of Independence disrupted the culture and politics of the American colonies in endless ways, including its direct impact on the language of liberty: establishing and affirming a common set of phrases and touchpoints for others to draw upon. This cultural orientation and the increasingly consistent language of liberty was similarly manifest in freedom petitions during this period. The same petitioners who appealed in 1773 for “all of the privileges and immunities of…free and natural born subjects,” continued their calls after the Declaration circulated. In January 1777, these same men again asserted their claim “in common with all other men” to “a natural and unalienable right to that freedom, which the great Parent of the Universe hath bestowed equally on all Mankind, etc; which they have never forfeited by any compact or agreement whatsoever.”

In 1777, the petitioners paid direct tribute to the American revolutionaries. They asserted that the colonists’ fight and “unhappy difficulties with Great Britain, pleads stronger than a thousand arguments in favor of your Petitioners,” and yet they did argue, clearly and consistently, that the same principles applied to conditions of enslavement as they did to unjust colonial governance. Positioning themselves as the acolytes of the revolutionary freedom fighters served both as a rhetorical strategy and evidence of philosophical alignment with the increasingly dominant set of principles, including liberty and consent of the governed as natural rights.

The documentary trail of legal proceedings, print material, and ambient ideology of liberty indicate an emergent and culturally articulated consensus, in language if not always in practice, that all men were in fact created equal and could not be bound in conditions to which they did not consent. The natural right of all men to rule themselves could not be abridged under this principled understanding that spanned time and place and took hold during the Revolutionary Era.

Dr. C.C. Borzilleri is a historian of women and print culture in early America. She is a Content Specialist at the Bill of Rights Institute and teaches university courses on American history and memory.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Elizabeth Kaufer Busch

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

The Battles of Lexington and Concord responded to ideals and initiated a series of events that mark the true beginning of America’s national creed. While April 19, 1775, initiated the fighting of the Revolution, these events followed and were influenced by an even more radical intellectual revolution that began “in the Minds and Hearts of the People.” The battles marked a shift from allegiance to the King to allegiance to universal principles, including humans’ unalienable rights and their entitlement to consent-based constitutional government, ideals later articulated in the Declaration of Independence. 

Historian Bernard Bailyn explains that the colonists’ philosophy gave meaning to the events preceding Lexington and Concord. Some Patriots, guided by their understanding of “Nature’s God,” experienced a “Change in their Religious Sentiments of their Duties and Obligations” to the Crown. These individuals could no longer believe that the King, who threatened their liberties, was “ordained of God for their good.” Others were impelled to battle by “their Education” in the Lockean “Laws of Nature,” which conceived Great Britain’s relationship with the colonies as a social contract for protection by King George in exchange for the allegiance of the colonists. But when the King’s “Protection was withdrawn, they thought Allegiance was dissolved.”

“Dissolve” is a Lockean term that denotes revolution. In this case, the King and his Parliament offensively declared war through the “repeated injury” of the colonists’ inherent liberties prior to the physical fighting. By this logic, the colonists’ use of arms at Lexington and Concord was a defensive response to the usurpations of a tyrant. Historian Gordon Wood cites the Boston Tea Party as the pivotal point that “continentalized the resistance movement” beyond Massachusetts. “In a period of two months in the spring of 1774, Parliament took revenge in a series of coercive actions no liberty-loving people could tolerate.” The Crown intended these “Intolerable Acts” to punish Massachusetts and warn the other colonies to comply. However, they “scared everyone from Massachusetts to South Carolina. They closed the Port of Boston; they did away with the Massachusetts Bay Charter” leading George Washington to fear that the same things could happen to Virginia.

Responding to these perceived violations of colonial rights, the First Continental Congress formed the Articles of Association in October 1774, uniting the colonies in a boycott of British goods. Parliament retaliated with the Restraining Act of 1775 to further restrict New England trade. As tensions mounted in April, the British hoped to prevent violence by seizing colonial arms held at Concord. After a random shot of unknown source was fired in Lexington on April 19, the British returned fire killing several militiamen. As the British marched toward Concord, American militia advanced on them, “Mistakenly assuming the Redcoats [were] torching the town.” With the physical war underway and increasingly restrictive measures expected from Parliament, the Second Continental Congress organized to enumerate their principles, explain the King’s continued violation of them, and justify their direct action on their behalf in the Declaration of Independence. 

The Declaration is not simply a political act of separation from Great Britain; it articulated the newly formed Nation’s creed. First, all humans are equally endowed by their Creator with unalienable rights deserving of respect. Because humans are imperfect, we need to establish a government, whose authority comes from the consent of the governed, to protect those rights. Finally, the government must provide institutional safeguards to ensure the “future security” of these rights. A written constitution must include protective mechanisms, such as separation of powers and checks and balances, to limit the errors of future leaders and the People. These ideals not only justify the separation from Great Britain but are also the values that the colonists sought to protect at Lexington and Concord. 

The Declaration not only declares individual rights, but it also encourages the exercise of prudence and duty by those who would enjoy them. “[W]henever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it.” But prudence must guide such decisions so that not every grievance leads to war. It is “their duty, to throw off such Government” only in extraordinary conditions after “a long train of abuses and usurpations, … design[ed] to reduce them under absolute Despotism.”

But since “mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable,” the Declaration also intends to convince those not eager for war to anticipate greater injustices if King George is not stopped. Though we ultimately do not know whether the British or the colonists fired the first shot at Lexington, the war that began there was the culmination of an intellectual movement. As John Adams remarked, this defense of principles that came to define the Nation “was the real American Revolution.”

 

Dr. Elizabeth Kaufer Busch is the Pete and Laura Walker Professor of American Studies and the Director of American Studies at Christopher Newport University.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Gust Essayist: Kirk Higgins

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

The morning of April 19, 1775, dawned clear and cool on Lexington Common, but by the end of the day, the sun would set over a scene of violence and death. That violence would prove to be the spark that ignited the American struggle for Independence.

The Common was a fitting place to start a revolution for self-government. The Common was, in part, where the militia trained. The militia system in New England was over a century old by 1775. Towns formed local militia companies to defend their communities. These were armed citizens, organized into companies who would set aside the tools of their daily lives to arm themselves and protect their neighbors in emergencies. Increasing tensions with British authorities in the 1760s and 1770s seemed to constitute just such a threat. 

Britain had increased its military forces in Boston in response to altercations with the colonists. In February of 1775, Parliament declared that a state of rebellion existed in the Province of Massachusetts Bay. They demanded that George III respond and enforce their authority over the colonists. 

On April 14, General Thomas Gage received instructions to disarm the rebels and imprison their leaders. They stated in part that “force must be repelled by force.” Preparations immediately began for a march on Concord, where reports indicated that military supplies were being stored.

British regulars set out from Boston, crossing Back Bay by boat and then marching down dark, tree-covered roads towards Lexington and Concord. The network, organized by the colonists, immediately began to act. 

Dr. Joseph Warren, a physician by trade, warned Paul Revere and William Dawes, one a silversmith, the other a tanner of the British movements. They set out at once on horseback to alert the countryside. The alarm spread quickly as the British Regulars made their way towards Concord. In Lexington, a town of 750 souls, the militia assembled under the eye of their commander, John Parker.

Parker, a farmer and father of seven, was suffering from tuberculosis and only had months left to live. He stood on the Common as 130 sleepy men assembled. Seeing no signs of the Regulars, they were temporarily dismissed and told to reassemble on the sound of the drum.

A few hours later, as the first streaks of dawn welcomed that cool spring day, the drum sounded, and 80 militiamen again assembled on the Common. The Regulars, under Major John Pitcairn, marched onto the Common, guns loaded and primed.

In moments, it was over. A shot fired by an individual lost to history sounded around the world. Musket fire rang out along the British line as they aimed at the colonists and tore into the militia’s ranks. Retreating, they left 8 dead and 10 wounded in their wake. One of those injured was Prince Eastbrook, an enslaved man who was shot in the shoulder. Eastbrook would soon recover from his wound and serve throughout the Revolutionary War.

Leaving the bloody field behind, the British continued their march towards Concord. There they were met by more militia under a miller, Colonel James Barrett. His forces, comprised of shoemakers, farmers, smiths, and innkeepers would exact a heavy toll.

After moving towards Barrett’s farm and receiving a lashing from Barrett’s militia at the North Bridge, the British expedition turned back towards Boston. They were harried the entire way by other militia companies from throughout the countryside, finally slinking back into the city as darkness fell.

The sun set on the first day of what would become an eight-year struggle for Independence. The bloodshed in Massachusetts continued. Two months later, on June 17, 1775, to secure Boston Harbor, British regulars would march up the slopes of Breed’s Hill and then Bunker Hill. There they were met by more militia. While eventually victorious, the British would suffer 1,054 casualties.

The actions of the Patriot network and the Colonial Militia embodied the spirit of self-government and individual liberty that animated the Revolutionary sentiment in New England. In defense of their sacred liberties, they set aside their daily affairs to take a stand in defense of their natural rights. Their sentiments would be beautifully encapsulated in July of 1775 by the Continental Congress in The Causes and Necessities of Taking up Arms. Its penultimate paragraph emphatically declared,

“In our own native land, in defence of the freedom that is our birth-right, and which we ever enjoyed till the late violation of it; for the protection of our property, acquired solely by the honest industry of our forefathers and ourselves, against violence actually offered, we have taken up arms. We shall lay them down when hostilities shall cease on the part of the aggressors, and all danger of their being renewed shall be removed, and not before.”

 

Kirk Higgins serves as the Vice President of Content at the Bill of Rights Institute. There, he has led several major curricula and content projects, including the Institute’s comprehensive U.S. history resource, Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, and comprehensive Government and Politics resource. In addition to BRI’s curriculum development, Kirk manages the Institute’s video content and scholar network.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Jay McConville


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

On the night of April 18, 1775, British General Thomas Gage, the Commander-in-Chief in North America and the royal governor of Massachusetts, sent about 700 elite troops on a secret mission to seize colonial military stores at Concord and, if the opportunity presented itself, arrest rebellious colonial leaders, including Samuel Adams and John Hancock. Gage believed a single sharp blow would cripple what was clearly a growing rebellion. He was wrong. The real problem was not a few troublemakers. Gage and his superiors failed to realize that a series of British actions had destroyed the last remaining trust in royal government and convinced a critical mass of Americans that a systematic and deliberate plan was being executed against them by their own government to steal their rights and liberties. Britain had lost the consent of the governed.

In those days, American patriots drew much of their philosophy from the writings of John Locke, an English Enlightenment philosopher. According to Locke, in the state of nature, individuals are free and equal. However, without a common authority to enforce laws, they are likely to clash over property and other rights, including their lives and liberties. As a remedy, they voluntarily form governments (enter into a “social contract”) to protect their rights, resolve conflicts, and guard against foreign invaders who, of course, would likely abuse those rights. To form a safe society, they consent to the rule of governing authorities, expecting protection in return. Crucially, Locke argued that if a government fails to fulfill its contract and refuses to change, the people have the right to alter or abolish it and form a new one.

While Locke was instrumental in explaining this social contract, the idea of “consent of the governed” had a long pedigree in Europe. Since the time of the Magna Carta (1215), and over the course of hundreds of years, writers such as Thomas Hobbes, Algernon Sidney, Francis Hutcheson, and Thomas Reid had developed the concept. Later thinkers expanded the idea to include the right of the people to resist, or even abolish, a tyrannical government.

Many colonists were familiar with these writings, and radicals quoted them often in pamphlets and speeches. In fact, John Trenchard and Thomas Gordon’s Cato’s Letters, which encapsulated these ideas in essay form, were among the most popular political writings in the colonies, often quoted by notables such as Samuel Adams. John Adams later credited Cato’s Letters and similar works with contributing more than anything else to the formation of the American political character.

The crisis facing British authorities reached a breaking point in December 1773 with the Boston Tea Party, and by then, the colonists were intellectually prepared for rebellion. Instead of seeking to repair the breach, Parliament retaliated with punitive laws aimed squarely at Massachusetts—these laws, known to Americans as the Intolerable Acts, convinced many colonists that Parliament was deliberately destroying self-government in America. Instead of protecting their lives and property, the British had become a threat to them. Instead of establishing a fair system of dispute resolution, they abused the colonists for their own benefit. Instead of protecting the citizens from foreign invasion, they had become the invaders. The social contract Locke had discussed had been violated, and the colonists withdrew their consent. By 1775, they were openly defying royal authority, and Patriot political committees were assuming expanded control across Massachusetts.

In response, General Gage received orders to disarm the Massachusetts militia and, if possible, arrest Patriot leaders, including Samuel Adams and John Hancock, who were believed to be in Lexington. He planned to march secretly to Concord to seize colonial weapons and gunpowder. On the night of April 18–19, 1775, he put this misguided plan into action. At about 5 a.m. on the 19th, his troops reached Lexington and encountered a small militia force. Someone fired a shot (its origin is still unknown), and the British returned fire, eventually charging with bayonets drawn and scattering the colonists. Eight Americans were killed, and ten were wounded. The British suffered only one minor casualty.

Undeterred, the British continued their march to Concord. Instead of crushing the rebellion, however, they met even stronger resistance. At Concord’s North Bridge, approximately 400 militiamen repelled the British, forcing them to retreat toward Boston.

This first battle of what was to be a long and brutal war was later memorialized in Ralph Waldo Emerson’s 1837 poem, Concord Hymn. Emerson wrote:

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,

Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,

Here once the embattled farmers stood,

And fired the shot heard round the world.

On that historic day, ordinary farmers put centuries of political theory into practice: when a government violates the purposes for which it was created, the people may withdraw their consent and, if necessary, enforce that withdrawal with force. That “shot heard round the world” was the expression of a revolutionary concept in action. The British had lost the consent of their subjects, who were willing to fight for their liberty. The brave American patriots put the ideas of Hobbes, Locke, and the entire tradition of liberty into action, and in so doing, changed the world forever.

 

 

Dr. Jay McConville is a military veteran, management professional, and active civic volunteer, with a Ph.D. in Public Policy and Administration at the L. Douglas Wilder School of Government and Public Affairs, Virginia Commonwealth University. 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Jonathan Den Hartog


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

Imagine yourself on Griffin’s Wharf in Boston, Massachusetts. It’s the evening of December 16, 1773—dark and undoubtedly cold. Three ships rest gently at the wharf, each with a cargo of a contested good—East India Company tea. From the darkness emerges a company of men, just over one hundred, with faces darkened and dressed like Native Americans. They proceed to board the ships, carry more than three hundred casks of tea onto the deck, break them open, and toss the tea into Boston Harbor. You’ve just witnessed the Boston Tea Party—although it didn’t get that name until the nineteenth century. The Tea Party matters both as a statement of the lack of popular consent to taxation and as an action that would thrust the question of consent to the foreground for all American colonists.

What had brought these Bostonians out? Their presence at the harbor was the result of local resistance to decisions that had been made far away in London. In 1767, in another attempt to raise revenue, Parliament had laid duties on many goods imported to the American colonies—goods such as paint, glass, paper, and tea. Americans resisted, writing against the acts and petitioning for repeal. Many Americans opted for practical resistance to the measures, refusing to purchase the taxed goods. They also formed groups that came to be known as the Sons of Liberty, dedicated to defending the rights of the colonists. Eventually, the protests worked, and Parliament repealed the duties—except for the tax on tea.

A tripwire was set for a new political crisis, with tea at the center. The Parliament-approved Tea Act of 1773 allowed the East India Company to sell its tea at a lower price, but for the colonists, buying the cheaper tea would be a practical endorsement of the right of Parliament to tax it. Americans across the colonies united in their opposition to the tea, but approaches differed. In Pennsylvania and New York, the ships bearing the tea were simply turned away. In South Carolina, the tea was unloaded but immediately locked up until the colony could decide what to do. But the real center of controversy was Boston. There, Governor Thomas Hutchinson was committed to enforcing Parliamentary rule. Once the ships docked, Hutchinson refused to let them leave until they unloaded their cargoes of tea—which the Sons of Liberty opposed.
The cargo of tea became the key point of political controversy—a symbol of the competing ideals between Parliamentary sovereignty and the right of Americans to be taxed only with their consent (directly or by actual representatives). Boston’s resistance leaders and Governor Hutchinson were at loggerheads. Meanwhile, plans were being made by the Sons of Liberty to deal with the tea.

On the evening of December 16, a public meeting was held to denounce the tea—and the governor—again. Thousands showed up. Significant public leaders like Samuel Adams gave speeches. Meanwhile, rank-and-file members of the Sons of Liberty proceeded in an orderly fashion to destroy the tea. Among those on board the ships, we know, was a common shoemaker named George Robert Twelves Hewes—an ordinary individual who refused to accept unconstitutional taxation.

The activity of the Sons of Liberty at the ships was organized and intentional. It aimed to destroy the tea alone—not to engage in a more general destruction of property. The best example of this impulse was when one of the ship’s holds was padlocked, and to get into it the participants had to break the lock. Before the night was done, they paid the ship’s captain to replace the lock.

The consequences of the Boston Tea Party were severe. Parliament decided to teach Boston a lesson, which they did with a series of acts known as the Coercive Acts, but which the colonists dubbed the “Intolerable Acts.” The acts shut down Boston Harbor, removed local government from the colony, and installed military rule. Boston’s plight would be the prime point of discussion at the Continental Congress that gathered in Philadelphia in 1774. The opposition between the colony and the representatives of British power made Massachusetts a veritable powder keg. In fact, it was a British expedition to seize militia powder and shot that led to conflict at Lexington and Concord—and launched the American Revolution.

The citizens of Boston, then, had been engaged in a great debate over a key constitutional principle around consent. Defending their rights as Englishmen not to be taxed without their consent, they refused to accept Parliament’s repeated attempts to levy taxes on them. Their principled resistance led to practical actions—organizing to express popular sentiment, explaining reasons for resistance, and then symbolically destroying the tea. These New Englanders demonstrated the significance of consent—or lack thereof—in the conflict that produced the American Revolution.

 

Dr. Jonathan Den Hartog is the Carolyn and Don Drennen Chair of American History, Civics, and the Constitution at Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama, where he is also the Chair of the History Department. He received his Ph.D. in American History from the University of Notre Dame. Den Hartog’s historical interests are in the religious and political history of the colonial, revolutionary, and early national periods of the United States. He has written the book Patriotism and Piety: Federalist Politics and Religious Struggle in the New American Nation and has co-edited the book Disestablishment and Religious Dissent: Church-State Relations in the New American States, 1776-1833.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Elizabeth Amato


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

On December 16, 1773, men dressed as Mohawk Indians boarded three ships belonging to the East India Company and dumped its tea cargo into Boston Harbor. The Boston Tea Party exposed the fragility of British authority and forced colonists to confront whether law could command obedience without consent—a problem later answered by the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.
What precipitated the action was not a tax increase, but a tax break. The colonists were upset, not because tea became more expensive, but because they had no say in the decision.

From Great Britain’s perspective, the Tea Act of 1773 was a critical part of a bailout for the East India Company, whose collapse would have endangered British economic and political interests. Parliament lowered the tax on tea in hopes of increasing American consumption and offsetting the Company’s losses, assuming that colonists would welcome a cheaper luxury good. Instead, the measure made the imperial logic unmistakable.

The deeper problem was not merely the price of tea, but what Parliament intended to accomplish through the tax. Revenue would support colonial administrators, making them more beholden to British interests than to colonial self-rule. In so doing, Parliament asserted its authority to reshape colonial institutions in ways that bypassed consent. Instead, colonists demonstrated that political dignity matters more than getting a good deal.

John Adams immediately grasped the significance of the Boston Tea Party. Writing the following day, Adams declared, “The Die is cast…The people have passed the river and cut away the bridge,” capturing the sense that the destruction of the tea marked an irreversible break.

The Coercive Acts, the consequences of the Boston Tea Party, demonstrated Great Britain’s tyrannical treatment of the colonies far more clearly than the Tea Act ever could. Rather than isolating Massachusetts, the British miscalculated. The Coercive Acts drew the colonies together. In 1774, all of the colonies except Georgia sent delegates to the First Continental Congress to coordinate a response.

The First Continental Congress marked a crucial step toward unifying the colonies, but the Continental Association, which it adopted, hesitated to endorse consent of the governed as the foundation for legitimate government. Nevertheless, the delegates could agree on a unified, colonial response to British mistreatment. They petitioned the King to support them against Parliament and accused Parliament of pursuing a “ruinous System of Colony Administration” aimed at “enslaving these Colonies.” What the Continental Association achieved was unity; what it lacked was a shared principle of justice capable of fully accounting for consent, legitimacy, and resistance.

Where the Continental Association came up short theoretically, the Declaration of Independence supplied what was missing. It begins by asserting that human beings are “created equal” and possess “unalienable rights” from “their Creator,” which is a claim about the natural or pre-political condition of human beings. Rights cannot be taken away by government. Being created equal means there are no natural kings or masters. All earthly authority is therefore conventional and grounded in human agreement. What is natural cannot be altered without doing violence to human dignity, while what is conventional can be made and unmade through consent.

From this foundation, the Declaration shows how natural rights limit and define legitimate political authority. Governments obtain their “just powers” from “the consent of the governed” for the mutual protection of rights. No longer do the colonists humbly petition a monarch whose authority derives from God or another source. Instead, they approach the king as the wronged party in a contract.

Should a government fail in this task, it forfeits its claim to “just powers,” and the people may invoke their right to withdraw consent and form a new government. The field of human creativity and ingenuity is open to establish new political institutions better able, in their judgment, to “effect their Safety and Happiness.”

The Constitution represents the Americans’ answer to this open field of political creativity. What distinguished a republic, Adams argued in “Thoughts on Government,” was not merely popular sovereignty but the rule of law itself. A republic was “an Empire of Laws, and not of men.” The task of constitutional design is to arrange the governing institutions so as “to secure an impartial and exact execution of the laws.” In Federalist No. 9, Alexander Hamilton boasts of constitutional mechanisms such as separation of powers, checks and balances, and an independent judiciary that both channel the popular will and guard against abuses of power.

The Boston Tea Party marks an early assertion of political dignity against authority exercised without consent. By establishing a republican form of government in which authority flows from consent and is exercised through durable institutions, the Constitution sought to ensure that Americans would live not under the will of others, but under laws of their own making.

 

Elizabeth Amato earned her B.A. at Berry College and her M.A. and Ph.D. at Baylor University in political science. She is the author of The Pursuit of Happiness and the American Regime: Political Theory in Literature (Lexington Books, 2018). She is currently an Associate Professor of Political Science and International Affairs at Gardner-Webb University.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: James Best


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

“Friends! Fellow Countrymen! We have petitioned. We have remonstrated. We have supplicated. We have prostrated ourselves before the throne of British majesty, and it avails us nothing! This meeting can do nothing more to save the country! Let every man now turn his face toward Griffin’s Wharf.”

I heard these words from Samuel Adams at the Old South Meeting House in Boston. I immediately leaped to my feet and joined the throng marching to Griffin’s Wharf. The destination of the rowdy mob was a cargo of tea owned by the British East India Company. We tossed the tea into the harbor in protest of taxation without representation.

My participation was not on December 16, 1773, the famed night of the Boston Tea Party. It was December 16, 2005. Although a reenactment, it remained a stirring call to arms. Adams’s meaning was clear: the time for talk was over. Samuel Adams’ famous words, “This meeting can do nothing more to save the country!” forced the protesters out of their pews and into the street.

Every revolution needs a rabble-rouser, and Adams was the pervasive firebrand of the American Revolution. He was of normal height for the time, with sharp, angular features. One observer described him as “lean as a greyhound.” John Adams, his second cousin, said, that when riled, his eyes “sparkled like diamonds.” His roots were Puritan, and he disdained finery. A British officer sneered that he looked like a “threadbare clergyman.” Despite appearing average in stature, Adams possessed a larger-than-life personality.

Samuel Adams formed the Boston Committee of Correspondence (1772) to share information, coordinate protests, and expose British tyranny. Within two years, there were 300 similar committees throughout the colonies, converting Boston activism into a colony-wide fight. He amplified a small riot until it became the infamous “Boston Massacre.” He helped found the clandestine Sons of Liberty, which added street muscle to the resistance. He popularized James Otis Jr.’s slogan, “no taxation without representation,” orchestrated the Boston Tea Party, and helped organize Paul Revere’s Ride. Samuel Adams was omnipresent. No wonder he is called the “Father of the American Revolution.”

Adams was a revolutionary, but of a different nature than most. British officials scoffed that Adams’ followers were a “tippling, nasty, vicious crew” from seedy taverns. The truth of the matter is that he recruited Sons of Liberty partisans from church choirs. Adams blended faith and rebellion to build a grassroots army that toppled an empire.

Today, we hear “no taxation without representation” and think the hullabaloo was about taxes. Our Revolution was primarily about the lack of representation, rather than taxes. Prominent men of the era, including George Washington and Benjamin Franklin, were angry that they did not have the privileges of British citizenship. They were subjects of the empire. If the colonists could not be British, then they would become Americans.

Adams signed the Declaration of Independence immediately after John Hancock’s oversized signature. He did not serve as a soldier in the war, stating that his weapon was “the pen, not the sword.” Adams refused to attend the Constitutional Convention because he feared giving more power to the government and fought for a Bill of Rights before supporting ratification. Revolutionaries often fade away in disillusionment or take control of the government they helped foment. Adams chose the second course and served three terms as governor of Massachusetts. Ironically, as governor, he crushed Shays’ Rebellion.

Revolutions require more than rabble-rousers; otherwise, they go awry. Successful revolutions require a clear and workable philosophical underpinning. The Enlightenment provided the philosophical foundation for the American Revolution. The Founding of the United States of America is the crowning achievement of the Enlightenment.

Samuel Adams studied Enlightenment ideas at Harvard and referenced Locke in his short and forceful “Rights of the Colonists” (1772). He did not write intellectual treatises. He was a man of the street. He turned Locke, Montesquieu, and Rousseau into slogans, riots, and policy.

Samuel Adams had a knack for exciting people to act. He envisioned a new nation where “The natural liberty of man is to be free from any superior power on earth, and not to be under the will or legislative authority of man, but only to have the law of nature for his rule.”

His genius was getting others to share this vision … and make it happen.

 

James D. Best is the author of Tempest at Dawn, a novelization of the Constitutional Convention. He is also the author of the Steve Dancy Tales, a thriller series, and several nonfiction books. Maelstrom, A Civil War Novel, is coming soon.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Joseph Knippenberg


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

In March 1765, faced with the challenge of paying for stationing roughly 10,000 soldiers in its American colonies after the end of the French and Indian War, the British Parliament passed the Stamp Act, which imposed taxes of varying amounts on paper used for official documents, college diplomas, and newspapers, among other things, in the colonies.

Since it departed from the traditional means of raising revenue from the colonies—asking colonial legislatures for funding—the Act evoked a spirited response. In October 1765, the Stamp Act Congress convened in New York City. Representatives from nine colonies adopted a series of resolutions affirming and asserting “the most essential rights and liberties of the colonists.” Their central claim was that “it is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people, and the undoubted rights of Englishmen, that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.”

It is important to note the twofold nature of this claim. In the first place, the colonists were relying on “the undoubted rights of Englishmen.” They appealed to King and Parliament as loyal subjects of Great Britain, not yet asserting their independence as a people, demanding (in the words of the Declaration of Independence) “the separate and equal Station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them.”

In the second place, the colonists affirm that these rights are not uniquely the product of English history, tradition, or culture, suitable only for Englishmen and women, but “essential to the freedom of a people,” any people. In making such a claim, they follow the argument of John Locke in his Second Treatise of Government: “Men therefore in Society having Property, they have such a Right to the Goods, which by the Law of the Community are theirs, that no Body hath a Right to take their Substance, or any Part of it, from them, without their own Consent; without this they have no Property at all.” Responding to the outcry and to the boycotts it inspired, Parliament repealed the Stamp Act in March, 1766. On the same day, however, it passed the Declaratory Act, which affirmed that it had “full power and authority to make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to bind the colonies and people of America, subjects of the crown of Great Britain, in all cases whatsoever.” Despite the repeal, taxation without representation was still on the table.

This experience, and the understanding of legitimate self-government that informs it, had consequences, both in the Declaration of Independence and in the frameworks for national government the American founders devised. Thus, among the charges the Declaration of Independence lays at the feet of King George is this one: He has combined with others to subject us to a Jurisdiction foreign to our Constitution, and unacknowledged by our Laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation… For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent….Adopted a year later, in 1777, the Articles of Confederation scrupulously respected the authority of the state legislatures, elected by the people, to raise revenue for the United States.

“All charges of war, and all other expenses that shall be incurred for the common defence or general welfare, and allowed by the United States in congress assembled, shall be defrayed out of a common treasury, which shall be supplied by the several states…. The taxes for paying that proportion shall be laid and levied by the authority and direction of the legislatures of the several states”…. Because the national legislature, through the Articles of Confederation, was not directly elected by the people, recourse was with the states to provide for revenue.

It was widely acknowledged at the time that this method of public finance was inadequate to meet the exigencies of the war for independence, not to mention any future challenges the United States might face. In his April 1787 memorandum on the “Vices of the Political System of the United States,” James Madison gives pride of place to the “Failure of the States to comply with the Constitutional requisitions,” which, he says, “results so naturally from the number and independent authority of the States and has been so uniformly exemplified in every similar Confederacy, that it may be considered as not less radically and permanently inherent in, than it is fatal to the object of the present System.”

The first power the new Constitution accords to Congress is “To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States.” At the same time, it requires that “All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives,” that is, the chamber that is directly elected by the people.

We return here to the affirmation of the Stamp Act Congress that “it is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people…that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.”

 

Joseph M. Knippenberg is Professor of Politics at Oglethorpe University, Brookhaven, GA, where he has taught since 1985.  He received his B.A. from Michigan State University and his M.A. And Ph.D. from the University of Toronto.  He has published widely on topics in the history of political philosophy, religion and politics, and higher education, and currently serves on Board of Directors of the Association for Core Texts and Courses.  He is a member of Phi Beta Kappa, Phi Kappa Phi, and Omicron Delta Kappa, and has received numerous awards for teaching during his time at Oglethorpe.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Jason Stevens


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

Eleven years before the Declaration of Independence, twenty-two-year-old Thomas Jefferson stood at the lobby door of the House of Burgesses in the colonial capital of Williamsburg, Virginia, listening intently to what he later described as a “most bloody debate.” For two days in May, the Burgesses exploded in debate over a series of controversial resolutions introduced by the young upstart Patrick Henry, condemning the 1765 Stamp Act and demanding its immediate repeal. More than half a century later, after he had witnessed all the great orators of his day, Jefferson reflected on hearing “the splendid display of Mr. Henry’s talents as a popular orator” during that furious debate. “They were great indeed; such as I have never heard from any other man,” Jefferson said . “He appeared to me to speak as Homer wrote.”

On May 29, 1765, Patrick Henry rose in the House of Burgesses to introduce his Stamp Act resolutions, written on a page torn from an old law book. It was the young Virginian’s twenty-ninth birthday and, even more remarkably, he had taken his seat as a junior member of the Burgesses only nine days earlier. The Stamp Act imposed a direct tax on the colonies, without the consent of their legislatures, on virtually all printed materials, including newspapers, legal documents, and playing cards. The act had recently passed the British Parliament, first in the House of Commons on February 27, 1765, and later in the House of Lords on March 8. In the latter, the act passed without debate and without hearing the many petitions issued from the colonies in opposition. The Stamp Act would go into effect on November 1, 1765, despite colonial protestations of “no taxation without representation.” 

After such a stunning political defeat, the attitude in the colonies might have shifted towards compliance, even submission, if the debate had not been reignited by the fiery redhead’s oratory. Henry’s resolutions renewed protestations against the oppression of taxation without representation and asserted that the colonists possessed the same rights and liberties as British subjects residing in Great Britain, including the sacred right of self-government. For more than 150 years, only the Virginia legislature held the power to tax Virginians. They had been responsible for levying their own taxes only with the consent of those to be taxed, as determined by their respective representatives. Henry fiercely defended his resolutions on the floor of the House with a speech that some witnesses claimed ranked among the world’s greatest orations. “Tarquin and Caesar each had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third may profit by their example,” Henry said. To shouts of “Treason! Treason!” echoing from various parts of the House, Henry supposedly retorted, “If this be treason, make the most of it.”

The resolutions only narrowly passed the House and created an immediate firestorm throughout the colonies. They were reprinted in Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and everywhere else. Popular resistance spread throughout America, signaling a general outcry against tyranny and oppression. The first act of resistance to the Stamp Act, after it had become law, belonged exclusively to Patrick Henry. 

Unfortunately, Henry was never very careful about preserving his papers for posterity. Even his greatest speech and, arguably, the most powerful of the American Revolution—where Henry exclaimed in 1775, “Give me liberty, or give me death!”—had to be pieced together years later based on the recollections of witnesses. Henry, either through modesty or carelessness, simply could not be bothered to preserve a copy. However, Henry must have regarded his resolutions on the Stamp Act as the defining moment of his political life, because upon his death in 1799, a sealed document was discovered lying beside his last will and testament. The document contained a copy of the resolutions, along with an account of their passage. “The within resolutions,” Henry wrote, “formed the first opposition to the Stamp Act, and the scheme of taxing America by the British Parliament. All the colonies, either through fear, or want of opportunity to form an opposition, or from influence of some kind or other, had remained silent.” After expressing his inexperience as a new member of the Burgesses, Henry continued: “Finding the men of weight averse to opposition and the commencement of the tax at hand, and that no person was likely to step forward, I determined to venture; and alone, unadvised, and unassisted…wrote the within.” 

For two days in May, that daring “venture” proved to be perhaps the most popular and influential one for the revolutionary cause. Leading directly to the establishment of American independence, Henry’s courageous opposition to the Stamp Act ought to be remembered forever as the first rhetorical shot of the revolution.

 

Jason W. Stevens, Assistant Professor of Political Science, joined Ashland University in 2011. He teaches political thought and history courses with fields of expertise in the American Founding, Abraham Lincoln, and political philosophy.  He received his B.A. from Ashland University where he was an Ashbrook Scholar and his M.A. and Ph.D. in politics from the University of Dallas Institute of Philosophic Studies

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Scot Faulkner


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

America has always been a nation of communities.  Its pattern of settlement, through Royal Charters, gave wide latitude for establishing local governance.  Because the colonies were over 3,500 miles from London, detailed oversight of the colonies was impossible.  By necessity, and by desire, colonists embraced local authority over distant rule from England. 

 This pattern of delegating powers to American-based local governments was promoted by King George II (reigned 1727-1760).  He supported a “hands-off” approach to Colonial Administration, allowing local governments to establish and enforce their own laws and establish and collect their own revenue, overseen by passive Royal Governors.

George II’s worldview was that his colonies’ expanding population and economy generated demand for British goods and thwarted French and Spanish ambitions in the Americas.  

 The King’s delegation created “fertile soil” for Colonial America to develop a thriving governance culture based on local sovereignty and the consent of the governed.

 As Alexis de Tocqueville would later explain:  “The revolution of the United States was the result of a mature and dignified taste for freedom, and not of a vague or ill-defined craving for independence.”

 The passing of George II changed things for the worse.

First, England triumphed over the French in the first true “world war”. The Seven Years War (1756-1763) obliterated French control in North America (except for the Port of New Orleans) and India.  Colonial America no longer played a role in countering French incursions.

Second, King George III (1760-1820) had a very different world view from his grandfather.  He saw everything in terms of loyalty to the Crown (him). As a result, he sought direct control of the American colonies. He distrusted America’s local governments bending to his will. 

 The King’s Prime Minister, Lord Grenville (1763-1765), devised a way to assert the Crown’s authority over the American Colonies.

 British victory in the Seven Years’ War left it with crippling debt.  Grenville chose to ignore the windfall profits gained from India’s cotton and opium trades. He also chose to ignore the fact that American colonists paid, fought, and died to defeat France in North America. 

 During the “French and Indian War,” approximately 3,000 British “Regular” troops were killed in action, but over 11,000 American “Provincial” troops died in action.

 Instead, Grenville promoted the concept that the beneficiaries of the war (American colonists) should pay for it: “and now will these Americans, children planted by our care, nourished up by our indulgence until they are grown to a degree of strength and opulence, and protected by our arms, will they grudge to contribute their mite to relieve us from heavy weight of the burden which we lie under?” Grenville’s first step was to enforce existing customs duties.  Many British Customs officials managed collections through intermediaries while remaining in England.  Grenville forced them to relocate to America as part of his general crack down on sporadic smuggling, lax enforcement, and spotty revenue collection. Expanded numbers of Customs Officers became more aggressive in using search warrants, called “writs of assistance,” to track down smuggled goods. Warehouses were seized and ships were captured to bolster Royal revenue collection.  Royal Customs officials became a permanent and pervasive presence in Colonial seaports along the Atlantic coast.

American colonists resisted this Royal intrusion by “going underground.”  Universal smuggling became the new colonial business practice. Customs revenue fell accordingly.

 This shortfall in Customs revenue led to the Stamp Act of 1765, the first internal tax levied directly on American colonists by the British Parliament. Prior to the Stamp Act, taxes were only levied by local government through their elected officials.  Now a government 3,500 miles away was asserting control, without the knowledge, approval, or oversight of the colonists.

 The Stamp Act imposed a tax on all paper documents in the colonies. This included legal documents, playing cards, newspapers, and land titles. Stamps had to be purchased with British sterling, rather than local paper currency, causing additional economic hardship. Proof of payment required affixing a Royal Stamp on documents, which is why it is called the “Stamp Act.”

 The February 1765 British Parliament debate on the Stamp Tax revealed the collision course set by King George III against the American Colonists.

 Colonel Isaac Barré [Member of Parliament and friend of Benjamin Franklin] spoke against Grenville’s Act and the King’s strategy: 

 “They [America Colonists] nourished by your indulgence? They grew by your neglect of ‘em. As soon as you began to care about ‘em, that care was exercised in sending persons to rule over ’em, in one department and another, who were perhaps the deputies of deputies to some Member of this House, sent to spy out their liberty, to misrepresent their actions and to prey upon ’em; men whose behavior on many occasions has caused the blood of those sons of liberty to recoil within them….

 “They [America’s Colonists] have nobly taken up arms in your defense, have exerted a valor amidst their constant and laborious industry for the defense of a country whose frontier while drenched in blood, its interior parts have yielded all its little savings to your emolument …. The people [America’s Colonists] are as truly loyal as any subjects the King has, but a people jealous of their liberties will vindicate them if ever they should be violated.”

 America’s journey to Revolution had begun.

Scot Faulkner was the Chief Administrative Officer of the U.S. House of Representatives. Earlier, he served on the White House staff. He is Vice President of the George Washington Institute of Living Ethics at Shepherd University and the President of Friends of Harpers Ferry National Historical Park.

 

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Will Morrisey


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

As a declaration, the Declaration of Independence argues a claim before the international ‘court of public opinion,’ showing respect for “the opinions of mankind.” To do so effectively, it must appeal to some human capacity that transcends borders, languages, customs, and even religions. Only the natural human capacity to reason can meet that requirement. That is why the independence the Declaration declares is a logical syllogism.

A logical syllogism consists of one or more ‘major’ premises – for example, “All men are mortal.” A ‘minor’ premise or set of premises – “Socrates is a man” – follows. To be reasonable, the conclusion of the syllogism must ‘follow from’ the premises: “Therefore, Socrates is mortal.” No part of the syllogism must contradict any other part.

The Declaration is a more complicated syllogism than that one, but a syllogism it is, with several major premises, including the self-evident truths of equal, natural, unalienable human rights, and fifteen minor premises, with numerous subdivisions, all leading to the conclusion that the United Colonies are now “Free and Independent” United States.

One of the major premises that has most puzzled readers is the claim that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed. If it is self-evident that one’s rights are unalienable, Creator-given, and governments that are rightly designed secure them, then what has consent to do with it? Why can’t a government simply serve our rights without asking for our permission?

The answer is that, first, if liberty is among those rights, the formation of any government must rest on the consent of those ruled by it. But more broadly, consent must mean assent under the rule of reason. It must follow from the overall logic of the syllogism.

Just as the rights asserted in the Declaration follow the account of natural rights given by John Locke in his Essay on Civil Government, often called the “Second Treatise,” so too Locke there defines liberty as an action “within the bounds of the law of nature,” distinguishing it from licentiousness, which he defines as the condition in which “men’s opinions are not the product of judgment or the consequence of reason…but the effects of chance and hazards as a mind floating at all adventures, without choice and without direction.”

That last sentence comes from Locke’s most philosophically rigorous book, the Essay Concerning Human Understanding. There, he identifies reason’s purposes: to enlarge our knowledge and to “regulate our assent” by finding the logical connections between and among our perceptions. For this, “sense and intuition reach but a little way.” We need to make logical deductions and inferences to reach certainty and to establish probability in our opinions. This is a four-step process of, first, discerning truths by our immediate, “self-evident” perceptions; making a regular and methodical disposition of these perceptions in a clear and fit order; perceiving their connection; and finally, coming to the right conclusion.

That is exactly what the Declaration of Independence does. The Law of Nature, Locke writes in the “Second Treatise,” is reason, which “teaches all Mankind, who will but consult it, that being all equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his Life (or Limb), Health, Liberty, or Possessions” – a principle, if followed, conducing to “the Peace and Preservation of Mankind.”

To do this effectively, he contends, men may join in a “Compact” with one another, “and make one Body Politick.” This requires consent, reasoned assent, since anyone who forms a political regime without the consent of those included in it “put[s] himself into a State of War with him”; if I have such “Absolute Power” over you, I have enslaved you, and having enslaved you, I can kill you whenever I want. Nothing could be more contrary to reason, contrary to the Law of Nature. Indeed, “the Freedom of Man and Liberty of Action according to his own Will, if grounded on his having Reason, which is able to instruct him in that Law he is to govern himself by, and make him know how far he is left to the Freedom of his Will.”

This is why “the end,” the purpose, “of law is not to abolish or restrain but to preserve and enlarge Freedom.” “Where there is no Law, there is no Freedom” from “slavery and violence.” Both the Law of Nature and the law of the political Compact depend upon the human person’s rational “capacity of knowing [the] Law.” Just as “we are born free,” we are “born rational” or, more precisely, born with the capacity to reason after suitable parental governance and education.

Thus, “Political Societies all began from a voluntary Union” – from consent, whether formal or “tacit,” and so they are maintained, inasmuch as any person “is at liberty to go and incorporate himself into another Commonwealth” or to form another “in any part of the World, they can find free and unpossessed.” North America comes to mind, as it did in fact come to Locke’s mind, when human populations there were sparse and scattered, “all the World was America.”

In any such Commonwealth, legislative power “can never have a right to destroy, enslave or designedly impoverish its subjects” – compromise their lives, liberty, or pursuit of happiness – since “the Law of Nature stands as an Eternal Rule of all Men.”

Will Morrisey is a native of Rumson, New Jersey. He has a B.A. from Kenyon College, an M.A. and Ph.D. in political science from the New School for Social Research. A professor emeritus of Politics at Hillsdale College, he is the author of ten books, including Self-Government, The American Theme: Presidents of the Founding and Civil War. His essays and book reviews can be found online at Will Morrisey Reviews.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: Eric Wise


Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

As the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence approaches, it is fitting to reflect on beginnings, in particular the beginnings of this beginning. The story of liberty in America does not begin with the Declaration of Independence. Rather, one may fairly say the Declaration is an end of a beginning.

So basic to the American story are the ideas of the Declaration that their emergence from the committee of Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Sherman, and Livingston expresses an ethos that by 1776 colonial Americans had already made second nature. The rest of the world needed to hear—”a decent respect for the opinions of mankind,” as the Declaration put it—what Americans had long known by heart.

The Pilgrims who would depart Amsterdam for the New World aboard the Mayflower were Separatists. They had separated themselves—declared their independence, so to speak—from the ecclesiastical authority of the Church of England. They would discover the terms of their election to salvation by the election of their ministers.

The opinion of the Pilgrims about their ecclesiastical independence carried with it, in simple form, the fundamental ideas of consent Jefferson later set down in the Declaration. 

In the hold of the Mayflower, the Pilgrims expressed this idea of consent when they penned and signed the Mayflower Compact.

As subjects of the “dread sovereign Lord King James,” the Pilgrims agreed to

“Combine ourselves together into a civil body politick.”

And they further agreed to 

“…enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal Laws, Ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices from time to time as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the Colony…” [emphasis added]

The Pilgrims consented to the authority of this “civil body politick” with the words

“…unto which we promise all due submission and obedience.”

A decade later the Puritans of the Winthrop Fleet followed. In the hold of the Arbella, John Winthrop gave his famous City on a Hill sermon, saying, “[W]e must be knit together…in brotherly affection…” or “[w]e shall be made a story and a by-word.” 

Eight years following the arrival of the Winthrop Fleet, Reverend Thomas Hooker turned his attention to a government for the settlements on the Connecticut River. In a sermon, Reverend Hooker would examine the Book of Deuteronomy, drawing on John Calvin’s commentaries thereon.

“Take you wise men, and understanding, and known among your tribes, and I will make them rulers over you” (Deuteronomy 1:13, KJV).

Hooker preached that by the word “take,” he meant “elect,” a reflection of the Calvinist idea of election to salvation and the practice of electing ministers. This is located in the instruction of the Old Testament, a divine maxim that the people’s free consent must serve as the foundation of a just and successful government.

From this principle, in 1639, Reverend Hooker would help draft and obtain assent for the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut, a constitution for the government of the people inhabiting towns along the Connecticut River, such as Windsor, Wethersfield, and Hartford.

Unlike the Mayflower Compact eighteen years prior, the Fundamental Orders omitted any mention of the authority of a sovereign king. The drafters needed none if the free consent of the people was sufficient to found a government.

“Well knowing where a people are gathered together, the word of God requires that to maintain the peace and union of such a people there should be an orderly and decent Government established according to God…[we] do therefore associate and conjoin ourselves to be as one Public State or Commonwealth.”

Out of many, one state was created by, of all things, votes. So cherished was this idea of a charter in Connecticut that when Governor Andros sought to revoke the charter in 1687 without the consent of the people of Connecticut, colonists doused the lights, ran off with their charter, and hid it in a giant white oak, known today as The Charter Oak.

While the concepts of the Declaration are often attributed to Thomas Hobbes and John Locke, Thomas Hobbes did not publish Leviathan until 1651. John Locke, whom political scientists often over-credit with the ideas of the American Founding, was a tender seven years old at the time Hooker put this first consent-based constitution into practice. 

President Calvin Coolidge observed one hundred years ago, in his famous speech on the 150th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, that Hooker’s doctrine 

“…found wide acceptance among the nonconformist clergy who later made up the Congregational Church. The great apostle of this movement was the Rev. John Wise, of Massachusetts. …”

Coolidge went on to say, 

“[The thought of Hooker and Wise] was carried on with a missionary spirit which did not fail to reach the Scotch-Irish of North Carolina, showing its influence by significantly making that Colony the first to give instructions to its delegates looking to independence. This preaching reached the neighborhood of Thomas Jefferson, who acknowledged that his ‘best ideas of democracy’ had been secured at church meetings.”

The Pilgrims thus carried with them, in rough draft, the concepts that would become the Declaration of Independence, and in just eighteen years Reverend Thomas Hooker would put them into practice, establishing as, scholar Vernon Parrington put it, “a plan of popular government so broadly democratic.” 

 

Eric Wise is a partner in the Finance & Restructuring group of King & Spalding, resident in the New York office.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.

Guest Essayist: The Honorable Bob Pence

Our Commissioners | Office of the Texas Governor | Greg Abbott
Essay Read by Constituting America Founder, Actress Janine Turner

 

For the student of government and of the nature and characteristics of the various forms of constitution, almost the first question to consider is in regard to the state: what exactly is the essential nature of the state?” Thus, Aristotle (384 – 322 B.C.E) begins Book III of his Politics. He continues: “It is clear then that those constitutions that aim at the common advantage are in effect rightly framed in accordance with absolute justice, while those that aim at the rulers’ own advantage only are faulty, and are all of them deviations from the right constitutions; for they have an element of despotism, whereas a city is a partnership of free men.” (Pol. III, iv, 7).“Deviations from the constitutions mentioned are tyranny corresponding to kingship, oligarchy to aristocracy, and democracy to constitutional government; for tyranny is monarchy ruling in the interest of the monarch,” but none governs for the profit of the community (Pol. III, v, 4). Aristotle therein refers to a royal government as “one of the correct constitutions.” He writes that all kingships are not equal: one may be a military general, perhaps hereditary, and others elective (and there are variations/permutations under these classes of rulers). A separate “class of royal monarchy consists of the hereditary legal kingships over willing subjects in the heroic period. For, because the first of the line had been benefactors of the multitude in the arts or in war, or through having drawn them together or provided them with land, these kings used to come to the throne with the consent of the subjects and hand it on to their successors by lineal descent . . . ; but later on. . .gradually the kings relinquished some of their powers and had others taken from them by the multitudes. . . .” (Pol. III, ix, 7-8, my emphasis)

As a preliminary matter, I note that the Declaration of Independence employs the word “consent” only three times. Interestingly, the Declaration employs the phrase that He [the King of England] has “refused his assent” and variations thereon four times (that is, the King has refused to consent to things of value to the colonies.)
The first individual on whom I focus is an Englishman, John Locke, (1632 – 1704), who was “the most influential philosopher of this age . . . .[He] grew up in an England that made a bloody revolution and killed its king; he became the voice of a peaceful revolution and an age of moderation and tolerance and represented English compromise at its sanest and best.” From 1673 to 1675, he served as secretary to the Council of Trade and Plantations (Colonies) and helped Lord Shaftesbury draft the Fundamental Constitutions for Carolina (but they were not generally carried out.) Shaftesbury greatly influenced Locke’s theories regarding consent of the governed and philosophy of constitutionalism. In 1687, Locke joined in the plot to replace James II with William III; this “Glorious Revolution” succeeded in 1688 and resulted in the imposition of ‘certain constitutional limits on the authority of the Crown.’ Locke held that ‘government’ should be conceived as an ‘instrument’ for the defense of the ‘life, liberty, and estate’ of its citizens; i.e., government’s raison d’ệtre is the protection of individuals’ rights as laid down by God’s will and as enshrined in law. He then published three works that made him a major figure in European thought: Epistola de Tolerantia (1689); then, in 1690, a Second Letter concerning Toleration and Two Treatises of Government, the latter two of which form the cornerstone of modern democratic theory in England and America. I will focus mainly on the Second Treatise.
In Two Treatises, Locke warned that “when people are loosely organized, they are vulnerable to aggression from abroad.”

The government rules, and its legitimacy is sustained by the ‘consent’ of individuals. ‘Consent’ is a crucial and difficult notion in Locke’s writings. Locke seems to have thought of the active consent of individuals as being crucial only to the initial inauguration of a legitimate civil government. Thereafter, consent ought to follow from majority decisions of ‘the people’s’ representatives, so long as they, the trustees of the governed, maintain the original contract and its covenants to guarantee ‘life, liberty, and estate.’ If they do, there is a duty to obey the law. But, if those who govern flout the terms of the contract with a series of tyrannical political acts, rebellion to form a new government, Locke contended, might be not only unavoidable but justified. (Held, 81)

The distinction between these two agreements is important, for the reason that authority belongs to the people who have the power to tell their government what actions they want pursued; and, should these ends fail to be pursued, the final judges are the people who can dispense with their elected representatives and, if they so determine, they can change the form of government itself. Locke did not believe the formation of a governmental entity resulted in the transfer of all rights of all subjects to the political realm. The making of laws and the enforcement thereof are transferred, but the whole process is conditional upon government adhering to its essential purpose: the preservation of ‘life, liberty and estate.’ Sovereign power remains ultimately with the people (Two Treatises, 402-3, 412-13).

In Two Treatises, Locke defended the claim that men are by nature free and equal against claims that God had made all people naturally subject to a monarch. Such rights were independent of the laws of any particular society. Locke claimed that men are naturally free and equal as part of the justification for understanding legitimate political government as the result of a social contract where people in the state of nature conditionally transfer some of their rights to the government in order to better ensure the stable, comfortable enjoyment of their lives, liberty, and property. Locke affirmed an explicit right to revolution:

“Whenever the Legislators endeavor to take away, and destroy the Property of the People, or to reduce them to Slavery under Arbitrary Power, they put themselves into a state of War with the People, who are thereupon absolved from any farther Obedience, and are left to the common Refuge, which God hath provided for all Men, against Force and Violence. Whensoever therefore the Legislative shall transgress this fundamental Rule of Society; and either by Ambition, Fear, Folly or Corruption, endeavor to grasp themselves, or put into the hands of any other an Absolute Power over the Lives, Liberties, and Estates of the People; By this breach of Trust they forfeit the Power, the People had put into their hands for quite contrary ends, and it devolves to the People, who have a Right to resume their original Liberty” (Two Treatises, 222).
But, unlike Hobbes (who thought that the state of nature was marked by war,) Locke imagined that individuals in the state of nature were free and equal; he used these words as Jefferson was to use them to mean that no man had by nature more ‘rights’ than any other. By reason (Locke supposed), men came to an agreement: they made a “social contract” with one another to surrender their individual rights of judging and punishing not to a king but to the community as a whole.
“England rejected Locke’s separation of powers, and subordinated all government to the legislature; but his doctrine had aimed to check the executive, and that aim was completely achieved.” (Durant VIII, 582)

“When the American colonists rebelled against the resurgent monarchy of George III, they adopted the ideas, the formulas, almost the words of Locke to express their Declaration of Independence. The rights that Locke had vindicated became the Bill of Rights in the first ten amendments to the American Constitution. His separation of governmental powers, as extended to the judiciary by Montesquieu, became a living factor in the American form of government; his solicitude for property passed into American legislation; his essays on toleration influenced the founding fathers in separating Church from state and decreeing religious liberty. Rarely in the history of political philosophy has one man had such lasting influence.” (Durant VIII, 582-3)
Key ideas Thomas Jefferson borrowed from Locke included: that all people are born with certain natural rights, including life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (the right of estate/property in Locke’s lexicon); that governments derive their power from the consent of the people; and that government is a social contract between the people and their rulers. Jefferson also drew other ideas from Locke, such as the idea that the government should be limited in its powers and that the people have the right to revolution. Jefferson took from Locke the phrase “when a long train of abuses and usurpations” which precedes the rest of the Declaration sentence, “pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.” The Lockean source for this “right of revolution” is found in Two Treatises (222) in that it emanates from the government’s breach of the Social Contract.

In a letter to Henry Lee dated May 8, 1825, Thomas Jefferson wrote with his usual clarity:
BUT WITH RESPECT TO OUR RIGHTS, and the acts of the British government contravening those rights, there was but one opinion on this side of the water. . . .When forced, therefore, to resort to arms for redress, an appeal to the tribunal of the world was deemed proper for our justification. This was the object of the Declaration of Independence. Not to find out new principles, or new arguments, never before thought of . . . .Neither aiming at originality of principle or sentiment. . . .All its authority rests then on the harmonizing sentiments of the day, whether expressed in conversation, in letters, printed essays, or in the elementary books of public right, as Aristotle, Cicero, Locke, Sidney, etc.

In the American Ambassador’s residence in Finland, one finds three special bedroom suites: the Ambassador’s, the Presidential, and the John Morton. As the Second Continental Congress was nearing its close, there was one more “consent” required. It came down to the vote of the Pennsylvania delegation. Of the seven Pennsylvania members, two men absented themselves; two, Thomas Willing and Charles Humphreys, voted “no”; and two, James Wilson and Benjamin Franklin, voted “yes.” The last, and deciding vote to come, if at all, was the vote of John Morton. He voted in favor of adopting the Declaration of Independence. It passed by a vote of 3-2.
Morton’s vote, his consent, made all the difference. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

 

Robert Pence is a Washington D.C. native who attended Maryland University as an undergrad, American University for J.D. and two M.A. degrees, and Yale University from which he received a M.Phil. degree in Italian Language and Literature. President Donald Trump appointed Bob to serve as the American ambassador to Finland; he served in Helsinki from May, 2018 until January, 2021. He served for years on various educational, artistic and philanthropic boards including The Kennedy Center, the Wolftrap Foundation, the World Affairs Council and American University. He is currently a member of boards of George Mason University (VA) and The Gary Sinise Foundation.
He is particularly proud to serve on Gary Sinise’s board where he joins with other equally committed citizens in support of the men and women of the Armed Forces of the United States, police, and first responders.

Click here to receive our Daily 90-Day Study Essay emailed directly to your inbox.

Click here for the essay schedule with today’s essay and previously published essays hyperlinked.