There is No General Will

I've been watching the television series Wayward Pines (don't worry; no spoilers), which raises tons of great questions about how a society--particularly a closed one under duress--should function.  What's the proper balance between freedom and security?  How much should governing elites reveal to the folks, and what should be concealed?  Should people fulfill specific roles in a society to benefit the greater goals of that society, or should they be free to choose their professions (and, for that matter, their mates, homes, schools, etc.)?

These are interesting and complicated questions.  Indeed, the question of the proper balance between freedom and security has puzzled republics since Periclean Athens.  The question itself is misleading, I would argue--and likely will in a future post--that the two are not mutually exclusive.

"[T]here is no such thing as the general will."

But I digress.  All of these questions seem to pose a larger one:  what is the "general will" or "greater good" of a society, and how should a society go about pursuing it?  My answer is that there is no such thing as the general will.

Now, to be clear, this statement does not mean that I think there's no merit in a society pursuing some common goals, or that I deny that sometimes in a majoritarian system there will be policies that some people don't like, but that are beneficial for society as a whole.  Our whole constitutional system in the United States is carefully balanced to make sure that the "will of the people" is well-represented at the local, State, and national levels, while still guaranteeing and protecting the basic rights of individuals--even when those rights aren't particularly popular.

But here's the rub--while our constitutional order protects against the tyranny of the majority, the broad notion--from French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau--of the "general will" acknowledges no such limiting principle against the power of the majority.  It is against this sense that the "will of the people" is the be-all, end-all of social good that I stand.

 

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Philosophical Super Villain.

(Image Source:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Jean-Jacques_Rousseau_(painted_portrait).jpg, portrait by Maurice Quentin de La Tour)

The people, as a whole, are fickle.  It's very difficult to get ten people to agree about what to eat for dinner; note how difficult it is for 330 million to agree on even the most basic of issues (in South Carolina, we still haven't reached any kind of consensus about how to pay for and fix our roads, something virtually everyone wants done).

Even if you can get ten reasonable people to agree to, say, a long-term weekly dining schedule, at some point one or two will start to say, "Well, maybe we could have spaghetti on Wednesday nights instead of tacos."  Imagine that conversation happening loudly and angrily across fifty States.  It's a recipe--pardon the pun--for disaster.

Raw majoritarianism--what Rousseau appears to be calling for when he argues that society should be based on the "general will" of the people--is an unworkable scheme on anything but the smallest levels of society.  Rousseau's chilling dictum that men are "forced to be free" reveals the inevitable consequence of unbridled democracy:  ultimately, the inexpressible "general will" becomes expressed through a demagogic tyrant, or through a legislator uninhibited by any restraints on its law-making authority beyond what the people want.

"[T]he 'general will' acknowledges no... limiting principle against the power of the majority." 

I've long viewed Rousseau as one of the great villains of modern philosophy, and I would argue that one can draw a more-or-less straight line from Rousseau and the French Revolution through fascism, communism, and totalitarianism, all the way to modern illiberal progressivism.  Rousseau--like modern progressives--believes in the mutability of human will, arguing that laws, not human nature, make people bad or good.  Get the laws right--or tweak the system enough--and you can spit out completely virtuous people.

Thus we see the conceit of the modern Left that no one commits crime out of greed or evil; instead, they're "victims of circumstance" or subject to "systems of oppression" that cause them to do evil.  If only we created more programs or redistributed more wealth--or, if taken to the logical extreme, if only we did away with private property altogether, since the state and its laws exist to protect it--then, finally, man would be perfect.

Such notions are not only absurd; they are hugely injurious to both individual freedom and the health of society at large.  A virtuous society is one that cultivates a virtuous culture, which is only sustainable if it educates its people to live virtuously, recognizing that there will always be failures because, after all, to err is human.

(Note:  I do acknowledge that sometimes people are driven to commit typically immoral deeds out of necessity; however, I believe our society hugely exaggerates the extent to which such motives drive criminality and wickedness; just ask any wealthy person who's ever been convicted of shoplifting or embezzlement why they stole, and you'll quickly realize that even people with plenty of material safety are tempted to sin.)

"Raw majoritarianism... is an unworkable scheme...."

Expecting pure perfection is dangerous and unrealistic.  Mistakes are the inevitable price of freedom.  You can ignore reality for a time and get by with it, but eventually it will catch up.

Rather than idealistically seek after a non-existent "general will," we should instead govern ourselves--and resist tyranny in the process.  To do so requires decentralization of power (and more local decision-making), a shared understanding of American values, and an education rich in morality, virtue, and philosophy.

(To read more about Rousseau's thought--and, perhaps, to correct my errors and oversimplifications, read more at http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/rousseau/.)

The European Union is NOT the United States

Post-Brexit (yes, yes, I know I promised on Wednesday that I'd be moving away from Brexit posts, and you'll soon find I wasn't lying... completely), I've heard several arguments that boil down to "the European Union is good because unity will make Europe stronger.  Just look at the United States!  It was a mess under the Articles of Confederation, but came together to become a world power under the Constitution."

The comparison is tempting and not without merit.  Certainly, the United States benefited greatly when the sovereign States ceded some of their power--such as that over the coinage and printing of money and defense--to the national government.  Putting the power to regulate interstate commerce eliminated the practice of States placing different tariff levels on British goods, for example, and aided in the creation of of a common national market.  The formation of the Supreme Court, and the subsequent creation of the federal judiciary under the Federal Judiciary Act of 1789, allowed States to adjudicate disputes more fairly.  Why couldn't Europe achieve the same "more perfect union" with its goal of "ever closer union"?

"American nationalism derives primarily from a shared set of ideas."

Unfortunately for Europhiles, the comparison breaks down quickly upon closer inspection.  There are three key areas of difference between the United States and the vision of a "United States of Europe":  common language and culture; a common legal tradition grounded in the rule of law; and a legacy of representative, democratic-republicanism.  The young United States possessed these three qualities; modern Europe lacks them.

The first point--common language and culture--will be a contentious one.  There are myriad, if predictable, objections:  Americans came from many sources, not just England;  colonials expanded into territories that either belonged to American Indians, or to European competitors (notably the Dutch and the Swedes, but also the Spanish and French); settlers to different parts of British North America came from different cultural and religious groups in the British Isles; and so on.  Indeed, German almost became the official language of a young United States.

I discussed the ethnic and religious diversity of colonial and early republican America at some length in my essay "Created By Philosophy," and previously argued that American nationalism derives primarily from a shared set of ideas (in "American Values, American Nationalism").  However, despite this vivid and ubiquitous diversity, English culture and values ultimately became the overwhelming norm in British North America, and morphed into a distinctly American identity in the 18th century (though one that was, until independence, decidedly English).  English may not be the constitutionally official language of the United States, but it is the lingua franca of the nation (and the world), and has been so for centuries.  Every wave of immigrants (until relatively recently) has understood that mastery of English is a prerequisite to long-term success in and assimilation to American culture.

English Protestantism--infused with Scottish Calvinism and German piety--was a unifying force in the colonies.  When the First Great Awakening hit in the late 18th century, it cemented America's culture, even as it spawned multiple new denominations.  The ultimate denominator, however, was a broadly Protestant Christian worldview (one that gradually and unevenly came to tolerate, and then to accept, Catholics, Jews, and believers and non-believers of all stripes).

"English Protestantism... was a unifying force in the colonies."

The story of America, ideally, is that of unity within a culture that values diversity of viewpoints, but insists upon an acceptance of a basic, common, Judeo-Christian morality; thus, "E Pluribus Unum."  That morality, in turn, informs the legal system, one descended from centuries of English common law.  Respect for the rule of law--the notion that no man, even the king, is above the law--guided the English people toward increasing freedom.

 

Evangelist George Whitefield knew how to preach to the masses of British North America, and he had the hair to prove it.

(Image Source:   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:George_Whitefield_(head).jpg)

So, too, did it lead Americans to their independence.  The American Revolution--and the various conflicts between colonial assemblies and royal governors--of the 18th century in many ways echoed the struggles between Parliament and the Stuart monarchs in 17th-century England.  Americans did not revolt because they rejected bad tea or because they resented taxation--they revolted because they weren't represented.  Americans did not have a say in the taxes that were (not unfairly) levied on the colonies to help pay for the French and Indian War (the similarities to the Leave campaign should be obvious).  Rule of law was circumvented, and Americans would not abide such a trampling of their rights

Thus, we come to the English--and then American--commitment to representative rule.  The United States really took the lead here, though Great Britain began expanding the franchise and reforming parliamentary representation in the 19th century as white manhood suffrage became the norm in Jacksonian America.  (Here's a fun aside:  there used to exist parliamentary seats that represented places with no people in them.)  Regardless, the notion that the people should be represented in their government--and should be able to hold it accountable with fair, free, and frequent elections--is an important part of America's constitutionally-limited, representative, federal republic.

Europe as an entity lacks all of these qualities.  Yes, certain members states have some of these qualities to varying degrees, but the European Union as a whole is sorely lacking in these areas.

- Culture and Language:  The United States had the unique opportunity to create a nation afresh.  Europe has had no such luxury, and seems to be inexorably divided into different languages and cultures.  This division is not necessarily bad, but it makes unity much more difficult.  It explains the natural struggle against "ever closer union," a struggle that is often visceral because people sense there is something artificial and disingenuous about the Europhile vision of a united Europe.  There are, after all, still traditionalists living (and voting) throughout Europe.

 "[S]ecularism is the new, unifying religion of Europe."

The long, oft-ancient histories of these nations makes it even more difficult for them to share a common worldview.  Even secular, progressive Europe still experiences the lingering cultural effects of centuries of faith.  France might have thrown out God with the French Revolution, but the "First Daughter of the Church" is still suffused, albeit in a subtle, weakened way, with centuries of faith.  Such a faith culture, even hollowed out, will naturally, if imperceptibly, struggle to  reconcile itself with that of other, contradictory traditions.

I suspect this explains why the European Union seems hell-bent on advancing as many socially progressive causes as possible:  secularism is the new, unifying religion of Europe.  But there will always be push-back against this dehumanizing, nihilistic vision of man's place in the universe.

Language, too, transmits the ideas and values of a people.  I am no linguist, but--unlike French theorists like Jacques Derrida--I believe that words have power and transmit meaning.  Such meaning is deep, part of the warp and woof of life.  Why else would educated societies devote so much time to learning and analyzing language and literature?  There's no need to read Shakespeare if you just want to a basically literate workforce.  No, there must be some power in language.  Linguistic diversity, therefore, is a beautiful thing, but it also means that different cultural values are transmitted differently throughout Europe.  No one associates Russian, for example, with greater freedom and sober living.

But I digress.

- Rule of Law:  Of course different nations in Europe have rule of law (except Belarus).  The European Union, however, does not.  Yes, it might have European law, but this law is promulgated by an unelected committee of elites, figures who don't identify strongly with their nations of origin, but rather with a vague, secular-progressive idea of Europe, one that barely tolerates dissent or input from the people.  Furthermore, how does one reconcile, say, French civil law with English common law?  The deep divisions of history are huge hurdles to overcome.

- Representative Government:  As I've stated many times, the European Union is not representative.  That's why the Brexit vote was so important, and why it has drawn so many comparisons to the American Revolution:  the normal people of Britain rose up against an unelected, unaccountable elite and boldly proclaimed their right to self-determination.  Brits seized back the ability to hold their elected leaders accountable.

The elite, Europhile vision of a United States of Europe is one of non-representative, coerced redistribution.  Give the proles bread and circuses, and they will submit on bended knee to the edicts of Brussels.  Remember, the "Remain" side of the Brexit debate was primarily premised on maintaining access to EU goodies, not about the people's ability to choose such a course.

Nothing could be further from the vision of America's Founders and Framers.  They possessed a healthy skepticism about unbridled democracy, but recognized that the people were the source of government's authority; that the people govern themselves most effectively; and that the people should be able to hold their leaders accountable.  Yes, liberty comes at a price--many prices, in fact.  One of those is the ever-present risk that the people will make mistakes.

Inevitably, they will.  But a common, tolerant culture; a shared respect for the rule of law; and an understanding of the rights and responsibilities of republican government will guide voters to wisdom more often than folly.

Self-government does not always fit neatly into the schemes of elite technocrats and busy-body regulators.  But it ultimately makes for a happier, freer, and more prosperous society.

What is Popular Sovereignty?

On Wednesday, 8 June 2016, I posted a piece entitled "American Values, American Nationalism."  In that piece, I discussed the "Five Core Values of America," a set of values inspired by a government textbook I used to use with my US Government students.  The second value, "popular sovereignty," is deals with the idea that power in our political system ultimately derives from the people--as Abraham Lincoln said in the Gettysburg Address, our government is "by, of, and for the people."

This post received quite a few comments on my Facebook page, including this one from a good friend of mine:

Now watch as I set my progressive-libertarian friend straight--respectfully.

My friend raised a very valid point:  the Framers of the Constitution were suspicious, if not outright terrified, of democracy.  Aristotle had identified democracy as one of the "bad" forms of government that came when rule by the people went bad.  The Framers had seen the consequences of a federal government that was too weak, namely the barely-contained chaos of Shays' Rebellion in 1785.  Naturally, they wanted a government by, of, and for the people--thus the requirement that the Constitution be ratified by 3/4ths of the States in special ratifying conventions (designed to circumvent the Anti-Federalist state legislatures)--but they recognized that unbridled populism would lead to demagoguery.  It's pedantic to say it, but Nazi Germany is the quintessential example of a desperate people granting dictatorial powers to a charismatic individual.

"Pure democracy, without any checks on the majority's power, quickly turns to one-man authoritarianism."

The French political philosopher Montesquieu argued that the English government succeeded because it balanced monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy effectively, which further influenced the belief of the Framers that government should filter the will of the people through a complex system of checks and balances, and a rigorous, jealously-guarded separation of powers.  Thus we have such institutions as the much-maligned (but quite brilliant) Electoral College, and a Senate that is designed to act as a break on the people's (often fickle) will.  Indeed, before it was corrupted by the XVII Amendment, the Senate was intended to represent the interests of the States themselves, rather than the will of the people, which is represented in the House of Representatives.

***

So, how did I address my friend's concerns?  Here is my reply (with some minor edits for clarity and brevity) to my friend's remarks, and to elaborate on the concept of "popular sovereignty":

You are correct in noting the skepticism with which the Framers viewed unbridled democracy. There was much wisdom in their skepticism, precisely out of concern that a well-positioned demagogue could, in the right circumstances, sway the fickle populous to his whims. Pure democracy, without any checks on the majority's power, quickly turns to one-man authoritarianism.

When I write about popular sovereignty, then, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I mean "consent of the governed." The people consented through our constitutional order when they elected delegates to special state ratifying conventions (circumventing the generally Anti-Federalist-controlled state legislatures). The people, then, ultimately gave consent to that government, and continue to do so through regular elections. Of course, a complex system of checks and balances tempers the will of the people (voiced primarily through the House of Representatives, which controls the power of the purse), balancing with it the will of the States, and vesting a great deal of authority to halt dubious legislation in the hands of the executive.

As for Thomas Jefferson's love of revolutions and his proposal to rewrite the Constitution each generation, the actual Constitution provides a useful mechanism that makes such rewrites generally unnecessary, but possible: the amendment process. So far, every proposed amendment has come from the Congress, and all but two have been ratified in state legislatures (the other two were ratified, like the Constitution itself, in special state ratifying conventions). However, the Constitution provides another method--one that has yet to be used--to propose amendments: 2/3rds of the States can convene a constitutional convention to propose amendments. Texas's current governor, Greg Abbott, is currently working on just such a convention of the States. In short, the Constitution provides us a way to change it to fit current needs without throwing out the whole document.

Of course, I would argue strenuously for an originalist reading of the Constitution and its amendments, all of which should be read in the context of those who proposed them. This still allows for changes through the amendment process, and for congressional elaboration. The Constitution is not meant to cover ever eventuality, and gives a great deal of space to Congress and (this is important and often forgotten) the States.

"It approaches something like tyranny when the President has the power to write laws (indirectly through the bureaucracy he manages) and to enforce them."

As for your comments about technocrats, perhaps I should clarify here, too. What I am primarily concerned about is the ability of federal agencies to write their own rules, many of which have the force of law. This practice is dangerous because most of these federal agencies operate within the executive branch and have little congressional oversight. Law-making powers are meant to rest solely within the Congress, and the job of the President is to duly enforce those acts to the best of his ability. It approaches something like tyranny when the President has the power to write laws (indirectly through the bureaucracy he manages) and to enforce them. Even scarier is the prospect that the federal bureaucracy has become so large that the President cannot exercise effective control over it, or even know what it's doing! Many presidents--particularly our current one--have used bureaucratic rule-making to push unpopular measures without input from the people's representatives. Congress is complicit in this, as it has delegated these powers to the executive bureaucracy, and the Supreme Court has allowed it to do so.

That being said, you are absolutely correct that there is a need for an intelligent, qualified, and motivated civil service, and, naturally, we want our dams to stay sealed tight and our roads to be paved and efficient. I would never dream of proposing we elect, say, the head of the South Carolina Department of Transportation. Here, again, the Constitution provides precedent: at the national level, the President appoints his cabinet heads, as well as federal and Supreme Court judges and justices. The Senate, however, has the responsibility of confirming these nominations, helping to prevent egregiously bad appointments.

If these proper checks and balances are maintained--if the different branches stick to their constitutional duties and limits, and if the proper relationship exists between the federal government and the several States--even a reckless executive can only do so much damage. If Congress vigorously protects its legislative prerogatives, an unqualified or authoritarian-minded president may still do some harm, but his ability to do so will be greatly diminished, and the damage can be contained.

***

This conversation went back and forth for a few more posts, which I will possibly include in future pieces.  In the interest of space--as this rumination is already quite lengthy--I will refrain from sharing them now.

However, I would ask that you permit me one parting thought:  we should be on guard against the lionization of the presidency.  The Congress--which represents the people and is, therefore the seat of popular sovereignty--may be consistently unpopular, but it is the proper branch to resist the huge expansion of the presidency.  Presidents increasingly attempt to speak for the people, but in a country that is divided between two entrenched, fundamentally incompatible political philosophies, it is nearly impossible to do so.  Indeed, attempting to do so leads to a Rousseau-style attempt to impose "the common will" on people--whether they want it or not.

Instead, let's speak for ourselves.  We can do that through involvement in local politics, but also by communicating with our Congressmen and Senators.  Let them know that we expect Congress to reclaim its proper legislative powers from the executive bureaucracy.

Politics, Locally-Sourced

Yesterday was election day in Florence, South Carolina, and in other localities throughout the state.  Specifically, there were a number of primaries, both Democratic and Republican, for various local and statewide seats, including an exciting State Senate race for my district, SC-31.  That race saw a long-serving incumbent, Senator Hugh Leatherman, face challenges from local insurance agent Richard Skipper and current Florence County Treasurer Dean Fowler, Jr.  This race was of particular interest because of the huge sums of money spent on it, as well as Governor Nikki Haley's injection into the race (she endorsed Richard Skipper).  Ultimately, Senator Leatherman retained his seat for another term (he's currently been serving in the SC State House and/or Senate for thirty-six years) handily, with a respectable showing from Mr. Skipper.

(For detailed results of yesterday's elections throughout the Pee Dee region, click here.)

 

Mmm... sweet, delicious numbers.

(Source:  http://wpde.com/news/election-results; screen-shot taken at 10:09 PM, 14 June 2016)

For all that time, money, and effort, 10,953 voters cast ballots (according to returns from WPDE.com).  In essence, those voters picked the State Senator (as there is no Democratic challenger, Leatherman will run unopposed to retain his seat in November).  I don't know the exact number of eligible voters in SC-31--it's a strange district that includes parts of Florence and Darlington Counties--but I would wager there are far more than 10,953.

Turnout for primaries, especially off-season and local ones, is typically very low.  Voters in these primaries tend to be more involved politically and more informed about local politics... or they happen to be friends with a candidate.

It's often said that politics, like much else in life, is all about relationships.  This quality is what gives local elections their flavor, and what keeps candidates accountable to their constituents.  In other words, it's usually good that we know the people we elect to serve us, or at least to have the opportunity to get to know that person.

Indeed, our entire system is designed to work from the bottom-up, not from the top-down.  As I will discuss on Friday in a longer post about the concept of popular sovereignty (written in response to comments about last week's post "American Values, American Nationalism"), this does not mean that we don't occasionally entrust professionals to complete the people's work--after all, I wouldn't want a dam constructed by an attorney with no background in hydroelectric engineering.  But it does mean that ultimate political authority derives from the consent of the governed--from "We, the people."

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Americans often knew very little about the goings-on in the nation's capital.  Washington, D.C. was largely seen as a distant, almost alien place that served an important role in foreign policy and in times of national crisis, such as war, but few people followed national politics too terribly closely.  Indeed, even presidential candidates were nominated by state legislatures or party caucuses, and were elected at conventions by national delegates (as opposed to the current system of "pledged delegates" that exists in conjunction with democratic primaries).

"[U]ltimate political authority derives from the consent of the governed--from 'We, the people.'"

Instead, most Americans' focus was on local and state politics, because those were the levels of government that most affected their lives.

Today, that relationship is almost completely inverted.  Due to a complex host of factors--the centralization of the federal government; the standardization of mass news media to reach a national scope; the ratification of the XVII Amendment and the subsequent breakdown of federalism--Americans now know far more about national politics than they do local or statewide politics.

The irony is, the national government is where everyday people have the least influence, and where it is the hardest to change policy.  Also, changes in national policy affect all Americans.  What might work well in, say, Pennsylvania could be a poor fit for South Carolina or Oregon.

At the local level, though, Americans can have a great deal of impact--they can more easily talk to their city councilman than their congressman (although I would like to note that SC-7 Congressman Tom Rice is one of the most accessible and approachable people I've ever met).

Let's follow the trends in dining and shopping and go local.  Learning more about local politics is healthy for the body politic, and is one small but effective way we can begin to restore the proper balance and focus between the people, the States, and the federal government.

American Values, American Nationalism

I've been teaching American history and government for six years (and continuously since 2011).  Part of my regular teaching duties includes US Government, a standard survey course that covers the Constitution, federalism, the three branches of the federal government, and other topics of interest.  It's a simple, semester-long course that, while not terribly novel, is absolutely essential.

Before we even read the Preamble to the Constitution, though, I introduce the students to the idea of America.  This lesson plan is not a unique creation; it comes from the textbook Government By the People by David Magleby and Paul Light, which I used to use for the course (I don't know Magleby and Light's political leanings, but the book is a fairly straightforward and useful primer on the mechanics of US government).  I follow the authors' course by starting with what they call the "Five Core Values" of America, which are as follows:

1.) Individualism

2.) Popular Sovereignty

3.) Equality of Opportunity

4.) Freedom of Religion

5.) Economic Liberty

Why do I start each semester in this fashion?  I've found that many Americans--and not just teenagers and young adults--aren't exactly sure what makes American special.  Sure, many can point to our military dominance and our economic clout, but during a time when both appear to be losing ground to other nations, we can't solely make our case on those grounds.

Others might point to our superior educational system, our extensive infrastructure, or our superior health.  The United States certainly is blessed with these qualities, but study after study shows that we're falling behind the rest of the world academically, and everyday experience (especially here in South Carolina) demonstrates that our roads are crumbling.  And don't get me started on the mess that is the Affordable Care Act.

So if we can't rest our claims for American greatness on these grounds--or, if we can only hope to do so temporarily--what really does make the United States special?  Is American exceptionalism only truly relatively, as President Obama implied in April 2009 when he proclaimed, "I believe in American exceptionalism, just as I suspect that the Brits believe in British exceptionalism and the Greeks believe in Greek exceptionalism"?

The answer--as you've probably guessed--are the very values listed above, the values enshrined in our founding documents, in our political culture, and in our hearts.  The powerful but fragile legacy of liberty handed down from English common law, these values still energize the United States.

What makes the United States unique, too, is that these values form the basis of our sense of nationhood.  No other nation--at least, not prior to the declaration of the United States in 1776--can claim a similar basis.

The term "nation" itself refers to a specific tribal or ethnic affiliation based on common blood, and usually linked to a specific (if often ill-defined) bit of soil.  The nation-states of modern Europe followed this course; for example, French kings over centuries gradually created a "French" national identity, one that slowly subsumed other ethnic and regional identities (Normans, Burgundians, etc.), into a single, (largely Parisian) French culture and nation.

The United States, on the other hand, is not a nation built on ties of blood and soil (although we do owe a huge debt of gratitude to the heritage of Anglo-Saxon political culture for our institutions), but, rather, founded on ideas, ideas that anyone can adopt.

We believe, further, that these ideals are universal, and are not, ultimately, specific to our place and time.  Sure, some countries might lack the institutional stability and political culture to sustain a constitutional republic like ours, but, ultimately, we believe that any people, anywhere in the world, can come to adopt our American values.

The concept of American nationhood, therefore, is flexible and adaptive to many contexts, but is ultimately grounded in firm absolutes.  Often these values butt up against one another, or there is disagreement about their importance.  When, for example, does the will of the individual become so out-sized that it threatens, say, popular sovereignty, or freedom of religion?

The Constitution was designed to adjudicate these disputes fairly and transparently--with a Supreme Court acting in good faith and in accord with the Constitution--to protect individual rights from the tyranny of the majority, and to protect the majority from the tyranny of minority special interest groups.

In this regard, perhaps, American nationalism has faltered.  The consistent undermining of our carefully balanced constitutional order--the centralization of federal power, the aggrandizement of the executive and judiciary, the delegation of legislative powers to the federal bureaucracy, the equivocation of Congress--has served to damage our national identity and our national values, turning the five core values above into distorted perversions of their proper forms.

To wit:

1.) Individualism--the protection of the individual's rights--has become a grotesque, licentious individualism without any consequences, one that expects the state to pick up the tab for bad decisions, which can no longer be deemed "bad."  Alternatively, actual constitutional rights are trampled upon in the name of exorcising "hate speech."

2.) Popular sovereignty--authority flowing upward from the people--has been flipped on its head, becoming, instead, a top-down sovereignty of the enlightened technocrats and un-elected government bureaucrats.

3.) Equality of opportunity--an equality that recognizes that everyone is different but enjoys the same legal and constitutional safeguards to fail and to succeed--morphs into equality of outcome, a radical form of egalitarianism that brought us the worst excesses of the French and the Russian Revolutions, and ultimately breeds authoritarianism and demagoguery.

4.) Freedom of religion--the most important of our constitutional rights, as it rests both at the foundation of our republic and of our very souls, the freedom of conscious itself--now becomes a vague "freedom of worship," which is really no freedom at all.  Religious observation is to be a strictly private affair, one (impossibly) divorced from our public lives.

5.) Economic liberty--the freedom to spend and earn our money as we please, with a token amount paid in taxes to support the infrastructure we all use and to maintain the military and police that protect our freedoms abroad and domestically--becomes excessive economic regulation, with many potential economic opportunities simply regulated out of existence.  Rather than laws forming in response to new technologies or ideas, regulations are crafted to protect existing firms and and well-connected special interests.

With such a distorted view of our national values and our rights--stemming, in many cases, from ignorance of them--many Americans find it difficult to articulate what exactly it means to be an American.  In this light, problems like illegal (and, in some cases, excessive legal) immigration take on a whole new tenor:  how can we expect foreign migrants to adopt our values--to become part of the American nation--if we ourselves cannot articulate what American nationhood and values are?

The solution starts with proper education and a realignment of our thought toward the proper definitions and forms of our values.  As Margaret Thatcher said, "Europe was created by history. America was created by philosophy."  Understanding our national philosophy--our "Five Core American Values"--will allow us to rediscover our exceptional nationhood.