I’ve alluded in past rants to the book The Fourth Turning, a historical analysis penned in the late ‘90s that I believe history has validated. I’ve started reading the recently published sequel, The Fourth Turning is Here, by Neil Howe, the remaining extant author from the prior work. A Fourth Turning, which occurs every 80 to 100 years, is characterized by a new, unexpected paradigm, a world-changing restructuring. We’re in the midst of such a change. In a recent podcast, Daily Wire commentator Andrew Klavan referenced the opinions of a new “anonymous” conservative movement that believes democracy has failed. Klavan thinks they may be leaning toward an oligarchy as the answer to our ills. This is the first I’ve heard of such a movement, but if that’s the direction we’re headed, I can’t say I’m a fan. Because I think our Founders got it right.
People are imperfect, so many of our ideas are, too. But some ideas rise to the level of ideals (such as the principle of the Golden Rule, or treating others as you would wish to be treated, and the concept of individual liberty). So the Founders, having personally battled tyranny, built their new hope for the future on principles, rather than people: they chose the basic goals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. To this end, they sought to do something unprecedented in human history—create a government subservient to the people. Acutely aware of the truth that “absolute power corrupts absolutely,” they knew anything they envisioned had to limit the power and scope of the government. They chose to do this with a system of checks and balances. And the new construct had to meet the high bar of ratification by states with different priorities. (In retrospect, this requirement perhaps aided rather than impeded attainment of the final goal.) They achieved this by maintaining a federalist system and granting limited powers to the central government, with everything else left to the states. And within that central government were divisions (executive, legislative and judicial) that would further aid in decentralizing power. And within the legislature were provisions to allow both the voices of the many to be heard in the House while preserving the semi-autonomy of the smallest states in the Senate. And, for good measure, they added the electoral college as an election safeguard to further protect the interests and influence of the less populous states. Rights were expressly defined as emanating from God, not government. Most of the document was given over to restrictions on power. Knowing that the new paradigm had to be robust through changing times, they added an intentionally challenging but not insurmountable mechanism for amending the system of governance, and promptly employed it to correct deficiencies with the addition of the Bill of Rights. The final product wasn’t perfect, but as close as humanly possible, recognizing that, unlike the times, human nature, with its inherent flaws, didn’t change. And they stated outright that their brainchild, our Constitution, would be wholly inadequate to govern a Godless people.
One of the things the Founders were acutely aware of, that many of us tend to forget with the bandying about of the word, was the danger of “democracy.” Not of losing it, but achieving it. We are not, and never have been, anything other than a democratic republic. Our Founders knew the wisdom in the definition of democracy as two wolves and a sheep gathering to decide what’s for lunch. The tyranny of the majority was recognized as and remains a real threat, and devolves into socialism. So they made something remarkably enduring but, alas, not impregnable.
Over time, despite the safeguards, the federal government and its power have grown—enormously. Our Founders would not recognize the beast it has become. This didn’t happen in a vacuum: The legislature became populated not primarily by citizens serving a few terms and returning to their lives as the Founders had envisioned, but career politicians, with growing numbers that had never worked outside the halls of power. And they’ve been permitted to reign for decades. The wielders of this power found ways to make end runs around the divisions of power. The president learned he could, without repercussions, side-step the legislature through executive orders; even, at times, after stating publicly it was outside his constitutionally granted powers. The legislature, for its part, willingly delegated its power to unelected and unaccountable agency bureaucrats, (sometimes referred to as the “deep state”) to avoid responsibility and blame for the outcomes. And an activist judiciary would often step outside its role of judicial review and legislate from the bench. Under our rulers’ direction, the government, like an organism with its own sense of survival, manipulated those it was charged with serving to allow perpetual and disproportionate growth in size and power. It used redistribution, the treasury’s printing press, and debt to ingratiate and appease voters and to allow it to insinuate itself into more and more areas of its citizens’ lives. Had it happened quickly, the people would likely have rebelled. But the slow, incremental imposition of constraints over years and decades seemed more an accepted background irritation than a heavy burden. And, as always, it was ameliorated by the granting of government largess. Over time, the people’s disdain for “mooching”off the government slowly withered and morphed into a pervasive sense of entitlement, creating a vast welfare state with a dangerous positive feedback loop. The change in values away from individual autonomy and responsibility and the shift of power away from the family and community toward the central government planted the seeds for fiscal disaster, a looming threat that still most of the country chooses to ignore: The main threats to our fiscal stability and harbingers of potential collapse, the ticking time-bombs of Social Security and Medicare, have become untouchable. They are political third rails for both the Right and the Left.
Even if the republic were to fail over the next few decades, its 250-year lifespan (in partnership with the economic engine of capitalism), rather than being viewed as a failure, is a testament to the ingenuity of our Founders. The system’s slow devolution toward democracy and socialism may be the best that humans can realistically achieve. We’ve seen that socialism collapses under its weight after about 70 years. And the republic itself hasn’t failed—it’s been, perhaps irreversibly, corrupted. Some may counter that this positive spin on the concept of democratic republicanism is just semantics, as every system, practically speaking, must be run by flawed people; thus, corruption is inevitable. There is truth to this argument. But my point is that we don’t need a new system, we need to find the way to rejuvenate (or resuscitate?) the old. Maybe it’s not possible in the absence of a change in human nature. But it will, in the least, require a change in current human values.