Latest news with #Tocqueville
The Hill
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Hill
Tocqueville's forgotten solution to America's democratic crisis
To save our democracy, the 19th-century French aristocrat Alexis de Tocqueville would tell us, start a book club. Join a church. Or, perhaps most crucially, volunteer at a local school or run for school board. The specific activity matters less — what's essential is coming together with fellow citizens for a common purpose. This may sound inconsequential when compared to the present challenges to our democracy, but it's rooted in Tocqueville's penetrating observations of early America. Having witnessed his own relatives falling to the guillotine during the French Revolution, he understood democracy's dangers as well as its promise. In 1831, he journeyed to America to study its democratic experiment and distill lessons to guide France's turbulent political evolution. What he saw amazed him. 'Americans of all ages, all conditions, and all dispositions constantly form associations,' he wrote. They gathered in churches, town halls, libraries, charitable organizations, colleges and more. He watched Americans resolving disputes, pursuing shared goals across partisan lines, and investing in one another—practicing democracy. These local, face-to-face acts that were possible only in the emerging democratic social order trained citizens to act collectively and formed counterweights to centralized authority and to mass movements. Yet this civic vitality did not emerge spontaneously: Education, Tocqueville argued, was its vital seedbed. 'It cannot be doubted,' Tocqueville wrote, 'that in the United States the instruction of the people powerfully contributes to the support of the democratic republic.' Early American colleges aimed to form citizens, not just workers. They taught not only practical skills but also the art of self-governance. Education forms citizens. Citizens, working together, create and sustain democracy. Today, we're headed the wrong way. When education becomes a partisan battlefield — through defunding universities, constraining academic inquiry, or promoting ideological conformity on campuses — we undermine a fundamental democratic institution, one that is especially critical to build the next generation's ability to practice democracy. History is clear: When authoritarianism or ideological conformity rises, liberal education is an early target. And it is exactly liberal education, the institution freely trading ideas vital to nourishing democracy, that must be defended and grown. Democrats and Republicans alike, and too many educational institutions themselves, tend to measure education's value exclusively by graduates' salaries, not by their value to the health of the republic. This undervalues education's purpose in democracy. Education must remain steadfast in its role as a cornerstone of democracy, not just as a pathway to prosperity. At St. John's College, where I am president, we uphold the root meaning of liberal education— the education that frees. This is the education America needs now. Our 'great books' curriculum brings students together around a seminar table to discuss texts reflecting every pole of our society's political, religious, and moral axes, from Aristotle to Baldwin, Adam Smith to Marx, Aquinas to Nietzsche. This education is at least as broad as the range of our society's fundamental values, because these texts are the sources or classic statements of those values. This breadth of inquiry explodes ideological bubbles, requiring students to consider ideas they would usually dismiss. Students must articulate reasoned positions and listen attentively even to those they disagree with, working together to reach deeper understanding. Each seminar table really becomes a miniature republic, where ideas clash but people cooperate — a model that can thrive in settings from community colleges to public high schools to neighborhood book clubs. When students wrestle with Aristotle's Politics or Locke's Second Treatise, they engage with foundational questions of self-governance. When they read Shakespeare or Dostoevsky, they develop empathy and moral imagination — capacities that counteract the dehumanization of opponents that fuels hyper-partisanship and degrades democracy. When they read Euclid or Einstein, they develop habits of logical reasoning and the ability to weigh evidence. These texts develop precisely the capacities Tocqueville identified as essential for civic health in a democracy. Most importantly, liberal education nurtures what Tocqueville called 'self-interest rightly understood'—the recognition that individual flourishing depends on collective wellbeing. This perspective counters the narrow self-interest that undermines civic friendship. By engaging with texts across centuries and cultures in community, students discover their own interests are bound up with a broader human collective. The decline in civic engagement that Tocqueville would have found alarming is all too familiar in contemporary America. In 2000, Robert Putnam's 'Bowling Alone' documented a civic withdrawal that has helped lead to our weakened democratic institutions. Yuval Levin's 'A Time to Build' updated this argument in 2020 and challenged us to renew our institutions. Church membership fell from 70 percent in 2000 to 47 percent in 2020. In 2018, for the first time, less than half of households reported any charitable giving. Union membership reached a record low of 9.9 percent in 2024. And we have now seen a profound collapse in confidence in our institutions of higher education. This civic vacuum isn't just unfortunate — it is dangerous. We become strangers to one another, vulnerable to manipulation and increasingly unable to distinguish fact from fiction. Here's the challenge: Our democracy is eroding rapidly, and civic culture builds slowly. And Tocqueville warns us that there is no shortcut. 'In democratic countries, the art of association is the mother of art; the progress of all the rest depends upon the progress it has made.' Democratic preservation requires both immediate work to counter democratic breakdown and long-term investment in our civic infrastructure. So don't allow the chaos of national politics to paralyze or overwhelm you. Tocqueville reminds us that democracy is not only defended in courtrooms and capitals—its living roots are in living rooms, classrooms and local halls. Go to a city council meeting. Volunteer at the library. Champion liberal education. When we do so, we quietly stitch the fabric of our democracy—thread by thread, action by action — before it unravels beyond repair. J. Walter Sterling is the President of St. John's College in Santa Fe.
Yahoo
30-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Opinion - Civil society is not dead just yet
For most people these days, the rapid and oscillating shifts occurring in the federal government are impossible to keep up with in real-time. How many of the cuts initiated by DOGE will be actualized? Will federal layoffs and reorganization stick or be reversed by the courts? Which new executive orders will be implemented? Will the 'big, beautiful' tax and spending bill cut Medicaid, youth programs and housing assistance? How much should we worry about a backlog of disaster aid requests as hurricane season approaches, or about the extreme economic uncertainty of an escalating trade war? Given the pace and intensity of the changes happening in Washington, it is understandable for citizens to feel overwhelmed — to worry about who will come out ahead, who will be left behind and how each of us will be affected. But before we let those questions turn to doubt over whether America can survive so much political turmoil, we should ask one more: Since when have we relied on politicians to provide for all of our economic, political and social needs? After all, civil society has always connected and provided for Americans as much as, if not more, than the government. A federal government that does less may even reinvigorate our penchant for working together, reminding us that we are less divided and more capable than politicians would have us believe. When French political philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville traveled across the U.S. in the 1830s, he was struck by the thriving associational life he found in the burgeoning democratic republic. Seemingly everywhere he turned, he saw local newspapers, workers' collectives, neighborhood groups and religious organizations actively participating in self-governance. He saw individuals who primarily relied on themselves for their own needs eagerly join their neighbors in order to pursue collective goals and address social ills. For every problem or concern, Tocqueville claimed, you could find a group gathering to address it. Ever since Tocqueville first observed this uniquely American art of association, observers have cautioned about its waning importance in daily life. To some degree, they may have a point. Technological advancements have led to fewer bowling leagues and book clubs and more nights in front of the television or doomscrolling through social media. A decline in religiosity has stunted private social services, and perhaps vice versa. Critically, the federal administrative state crowds out some charity and weakens our capacity for self-governance. Federal funding for research has made universities less independent. Municipal consolidation and federal policies have made schools larger and less adaptable. Many nonprofits rely on funding from federal grants. In 2021, for instance, over 100,000 U.S. charities received over $267 billion from the government. It seems that in our search for government solutions to the complex challenges of modern society, we've ended up more reliant on Washington to ease our troubles. Viewed this way, the changes the Trump administration is attempting could very well sever the already fraying political, economic and social fabric of America. A closer examination of America's commitment to the art of association, however, may help alleviate our fears. As state and federal governments enact restrictions on educational curriculum, for example, parents, nonprofits and companies have stepped in to fill the gap. Barnes and Noble offers a summer reading program where kids can earn free books. Dolly Parton's Imagination Library distributes free books to children across the world. Banned book clubs have sprouted up across the country. Private tutors, summer camps and homeschooling all provide alternative educational experiences that can spark creativity and provide the intellectual rigor that standardized curricula and testing often lack. After disasters, it is often local associations that help spur recovery. They keep up communication among neighbors, provide necessary goods and services and signal a commitment to their communities. Churches, coffee shops and community centers become hubs for providing meals, recharging electronics and accessing the internet and strategizing about next steps. Neighbors help one another and come together to petition the government for resources. While it is understandable to worry about politics in Washington, it is also vital to remember that Americans also have a vibrant associational life. Our ability to come together, discuss issues, and experiment with solutions is what, in Tocqueville's eyes, made America great. A modern America thrives on the recognition that everyday citizens can and do come together to solve problems. Stefanie Haeffele is a senior fellow with the Mercatus Center's F. A. Hayek Program for Advanced Study in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics. Virgil Henry Storr is Mercatus' vice president for Academic and Student Programs and the Don C. Lavoie Senior Fellow with the Hayek Program. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Hill
30-05-2025
- Politics
- The Hill
Civil society is not dead just yet
For most people these days, the rapid and oscillating shifts occurring in the federal government are impossible to keep up with in real-time. How many of the cuts initiated by DOGE will be actualized? Will federal layoffs and reorganization stick or be reversed by the courts? Which new executive orders will be implemented? Will the 'big, beautiful' tax and spending bill cut Medicaid, youth programs and housing assistance? How much should we worry about a backlog of disaster aid requests as hurricane season approaches, or about the extreme economic uncertainty of an escalating trade war? Given the pace and intensity of the changes happening in Washington, it is understandable for citizens to feel overwhelmed — to worry about who will come out ahead, who will be left behind and how each of us will be affected. But before we let those questions turn to doubt over whether America can survive so much political turmoil, we should ask one more: Since when have we relied on politicians to provide for all of our economic, political and social needs? After all, civil society has always connected and provided for Americans as much as, if not more, than the government. A federal government that does less may even reinvigorate our penchant for working together, reminding us that we are less divided and more capable than politicians would have us believe. When French political philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville traveled across the U.S. in the 1830s, he was struck by the thriving associational life he found in the burgeoning democratic republic. Seemingly everywhere he turned, he saw local newspapers, workers' collectives, neighborhood groups and religious organizations actively participating in self-governance. He saw individuals who primarily relied on themselves for their own needs eagerly join their neighbors in order to pursue collective goals and address social ills. For every problem or concern, Tocqueville claimed, you could find a group gathering to address it. Ever since Tocqueville first observed this uniquely American art of association, observers have cautioned about its waning importance in daily life. To some degree, they may have a point. Technological advancements have led to fewer bowling leagues and book clubs and more nights in front of the television or doomscrolling through social media. A decline in religiosity has stunted private social services, and perhaps vice versa. Critically, the federal administrative state crowds out some charity and weakens our capacity for self-governance. Federal funding for research has made universities less independent. Municipal consolidation and federal policies have made schools larger and less adaptable. Many nonprofits rely on funding from federal grants. In 2021, for instance, over 100,000 U.S. charities received over $267 billion from the government. It seems that in our search for government solutions to the complex challenges of modern society, we've ended up more reliant on Washington to ease our troubles. Viewed this way, the changes the Trump administration is attempting could very well sever the already fraying political, economic and social fabric of America. A closer examination of America's commitment to the art of association, however, may help alleviate our fears. As state and federal governments enact restrictions on educational curriculum, for example, parents, nonprofits and companies have stepped in to fill the gap. Barnes and Noble offers a summer reading program where kids can earn free books. Dolly Parton's Imagination Library distributes free books to children across the world. Banned book clubs have sprouted up across the country. Private tutors, summer camps and homeschooling all provide alternative educational experiences that can spark creativity and provide the intellectual rigor that standardized curricula and testing often lack. After disasters, it is often local associations that help spur recovery. They keep up communication among neighbors, provide necessary goods and services and signal a commitment to their communities. Churches, coffee shops and community centers become hubs for providing meals, recharging electronics and accessing the internet and strategizing about next steps. Neighbors help one another and come together to petition the government for resources. While it is understandable to worry about politics in Washington, it is also vital to remember that Americans also have a vibrant associational life. Our ability to come together, discuss issues, and experiment with solutions is what, in Tocqueville's eyes, made America great. A modern America thrives on the recognition that everyday citizens can and do come together to solve problems. Stefanie Haeffele is a senior fellow with the Mercatus Center's F. A. Hayek Program for Advanced Study in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics. Virgil Henry Storr is Mercatus' vice president for Academic and Student Programs and the Don C. Lavoie Senior Fellow with the Hayek Program.
New Straits Times
27-04-2025
- Business
- New Straits Times
MONEY THOUGHTS: Should intelligent investors embrace or abandon America?
THE late great novelist John Updike once wrote: "Adversity in immunological doses has its uses; more than that crushes." Updike was born in 1932 and died in 2009, which spared him having to live through Donald Trump's first presidency, and of course, Trump's much worse second stab at the most important job in the world. The terrifying capital market implosions in early April in the immediate aftermath of Trump's asininely miscalculated "Liberation Day" tariff announcements made relatively few prepared people wealthier, and many more much poorer. Although Updike was referring to general forms of adversity, as I look at our world today through an intentionally chosen financial lens, it seems to me that those of us who have experienced multiple up-and-down-and-up-again market cycles, AND who have extracted the correct investment lessons from those oscillating graphs, will have gained a vaccine-like resistance against bear-market-triggered despair. That's in contrast to the far more widespread panicked selling that less "vaccinated" market participants succumbed to recently. We should always remember: "When emotions run high, intelligence is low." So, do your best to stay smart, stay calm and stay optimistic. However, that doesn't mean being naive and abandoning an honest assessment of the world as it is. You see, regardless of which side of the political or ideological divide you stand, you should recognise the recent Trump Tariff Tantrum (TTT) has destabilised global trade. And despite Trump's subsequent panicked backtracking on the worst of those tariffs for most countries — the notable exception being China which, as I write this, is facing 125 per cent tariffs on most of its imports into the United States — extreme harm has been inflicted by Trump on regular folks who rely on dependable global supply chains humming along steadily. In case you're wondering, those "folks" I am referring to comprise most of Earth's 8.2 billion living humans. Please join me now on a brief journey back in time... THE AMERICAN EXPERIMENT Almost two centuries ago, a savvy, super-smart French aristocrat Count Alexis de Tocqueville (1805-1859) toured America in the early 1830s with his friend Gustave de Beaumont to research the US' early prison reforms. Beaumont and Tocqueville dove deep into their subject. Their efforts culminated in their co-authored, two-volume French language work which translates to: On the Penitentiary System in the United States, and its Application in France. Tocqueville was also fascinated by other things he observed about the US throughout his extensive travels there and in Canada. So much so, he later wrote a solo book, coincidentally also in two volumes (published in 1835 and 1840), entitled Democracy in America. To his credit, Tocqueville detested the slavery he observed in the US at that time. However, he also acknowledged many American positives. In his groundbreaking book he wrote: "Americans believe their freedom to be the best instrument and surest safeguard… to secure for themselves a government which will allow them to acquire the things they covet and which will not debar them from the peaceful enjoyment of those possessions." Today, we look upon such expectations as basic human rights for everyone worldwide. Yet in the early 19th century, that wasn't how most of the world lived. The American experiment was just beginning back then, and it has been an overwhelming success. Back in the 1830s, Tocqueville identified the reason for the then unparalleled vigour of the American nation. It boiled down to a widespread conviction shared by its pioneer generations that what mattered most were personal responsibility, honesty and diligence. In other words, meritocracy. Note: Tocqueville wasn't merely looking at early 19th century America through rose-tinted glasses. He looked squarely at its shortcomings, too. Nonetheless he observed a fascinating truth about the then young democracy: "The greatness of America lies not in being more enlightened than any other nation, but rather in her ability to repair her faults." ROAD AHEAD For us, here in 2025, despite the intense dislocations the world is facing because of appalling economic policies emanating from the White House, we would be unwise, as global investors, to write off America. Understand that despite Trump's disruptions to world trade and economic harmony, our global economy will keep growing — most years. And, predictably, that growth will generate portfolio profits and precious passive income for well diversified global investors. Our road ahead will undoubtedly be bumpy, perhaps for most of the next 3 ½ years — for obvious reasons. However, in due course, the US will sort out its sub-par leadership issues. Till then, stay courageously invested, ideally, globally. Also stay highly liquid. In closing, do pay heed to this fascinating statement, which is often attributed to Tocqueville even though it's precise wording is not found verbatim in any of his writings: "America is great because she is good. If America ceases to be good, America will cease to be great." I'm certain America will regain its footing in due course. Till then, as the world's greatest investor Warren Buffett once explained: "It's never paid to bet against America. We come through things, but it's not always a smooth ride." So, dear reader, be wise: Buckle up!
Boston Globe
13-03-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Does American democracy need more religion?
Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up In the first weeks of his second term, Trump catered to white Christian grievance by Advertisement All of this might seem like a vindication of my friend's viewpoint. Clearly, the intolerance on the Christian right has corrupted conservative politics and contributed to the breakdown in our public discourse. Advertisement But what if the answer to our democratic dysfunction is not less religion in American public life but more? Reconsidering religion's role in America That's the question Jonathan Rauch, an author and journalist at the Brookings Institution, asks in his new book, 'Cross Purposes: Christianity's Broken Bargain With Democracy.' Nearly 'I think a lot of people have observed that the crisis of democracy and crisis in Christianity have come about at the same time, and they seem to be fueling each other,' says Rauch. 'Even the so-called 'New Atheists' of 20 years ago have Rauch himself is one of those secular atheists reconsidering whether Christianity might have a role to play in healing public life in America. Rauch describes himself as gay, atheist, and Jewish and gleefully hailed the irrelevance of religion and the rise of secularism in Advertisement That religion should play a significant role in public life is not a new idea. According to political historian Emily Salamanca, the idea 'dates back to antiquity' and was generally advanced by philosophers concerned with containing what they saw as the potential excesses of democracy. Plato, for example, argued that unfettered freedom encourages selfishness and amorality. Cultivating virtue in men, he claimed, was the best predictor of a functioning society. The 18th- century Swiss philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau Alexis de Tocqueville, often called the best observer of America, followed in those philosophical footsteps. During the 1830s, Tocqueville was struck by what he saw as a unique and essential relationship between the country's dominant religion, American Protestantism, and democracy. As Salamanca told me, part of what impressed Tocqueville about American Christianity was the extent to which parishioners got involved with organizing and participating in their local churches, a process he saw as complementary to the work of democracy. In his seminal 1835 book 'Democracy in America,' Tocqueville writes, 'For the Americans the ideas of Christianity and liberty are so completely mingled that it is almost impossible to conceive of the one without the other.' Rauch opens his book with that quote and resurrects Tocqueville's idea that we need religion, and Christianity in particular, for public life in America to function — because our system was built with an implicit assumption that it would be a steadying force in public life. Christianity, he writes, is the 'load-bearing wall' holding up our democracy. But the forces of secular morality and politics have proved damaging to the church, eroding its influence and credibility. Advertisement The church in America has lost its way — and not just on the right. How Christianity broke apart Rauch deals almost entirely with American Protestantism in his book, which has been the country's dominant form of Christianity since the Pilgrims first set foot on Plymouth Rock. Rauch, like Tocqueville before him, finds much to admire about Protestantism, even as Christianity's current crisis of attrition is concentrated there. He posits that liberal, now often called mainline, Protestantism has drifted too far from its theological roots. In their eagerness to modernize, mainline churches tended to de-emphasize theology until they stood for 'vague ideas like peace and justice,' he writes. Rauch calls this 'thin Christianity.' Evangelicals, Rauch argues, also succumbed to modernity, but in a much more destructive way: They cast their lot with a deeply conservative political identity that now supersedes, and even drives, their theology. Politics has infiltrated the evangelical church, creating what Rauch calls a 'sharp' Christianity motivated by resentment and fear. The journalist and lifelong evangelical Michael Gerson argued something similar Advertisement Rauch goes farther, saying that Christianity is broken across the board. Time for a religious revival? This brings us back to Rauch's thesis: A broken Christianity means a broken democracy. He echoes Tocqueville in worrying that democracy without religion is like a ship without a compass. But is it, and would a religious revival really lead us out of the autocratic wilderness? In today's world, higher rates of religious participation don't tend to correspond to liberal democracy. In Europe, for example, very But the argument is not that any democracy fails without religion. It's that American democracy fails without Christianity. Tocqueville saw the relationship between American democracy and Christianity as exceptional. Rauch alludes to this as well. If Christianity returned to its theological roots, grounded in the teachings of Jesus, and renounced political power, Rauch says, it might recapture what Tocqueville so admired in the first place: the ability to rein in the excesses of democracy. It's a tempting theory. Democracy alone has failed to constrain the capitalistic impulses of Silicon Valley and Wall Street. Liberals may put too much faith in laws and rules to keep bad actors in check. Perhaps a well-grounded grass-roots faith community would be better able to rein in avarice by instilling self-restraint and cultivating humility in people from a young age. As a weekly churchgoer, I agree with Rauch that cultivating a spiritual life and participating in a church body politic adds richness and complexity to one's existence. Ideally, it would motivate people's behavior in their public lives too. But Rauch may be harking back to a Christianity that no longer exists and can never be revived. Scholars have pointed out that the relative religious uniformity of Tocqueville's time gave way to such theological diversity within the Christian church that it may never again be a unifying force for cultivating civic virtue. Many liberals maintain that a secular value system is perfectly adequate, if not superior, to Christian mores. We have laws that promote equality, freedom, and the right to pursue one's own happiness. We believe in civil and human rights that sanctify the inherent dignity of every person and their freedom of expression. Religion has so often insulted the dignity of many, from women to the LGBTQ community. It constrains free expression and thoughtful inquiry to belief in God. So what, then, does religion contribute? 'It's the communal aspect of religion that does the heavy lifting in terms of the social benefit ... the connectedness and charitable work and sense of shared identity,' Rauch says. Some thinkers, including the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, have argued that secular morality privileges the right of individuals to act as they please, as long as they do no harm to others. But those values don't necessarily motivate people to think collectively. Nor do they privilege generosity, restraint, sanctity, or even tolerance. Indeed, many of America's most admired American social movements, from abolition to civil rights, were not born of secular morality. They had distinctly Christian influences and were shepherded by Christian leaders. Which is not to say that Christianity has been a universal force for good in America. It has, however, been an important influence, at least historically, on how most Americans have operated as individuals, communities, and society as a whole. Its breakdown is having an impact, and we're seeing that in the extremism of the right and the disaffection of the left. And nothing else has yet risen to take its place. Which leads Rauch to believe that Christianity is still best placed to be that unifying value system, separate from the state but supporting the work of democracy, as it was in Tocqueville's day. In the final pages of his book, Rauch advances a line of thinking that feels radical: tolerating intolerance. But for that to happen, church and state must accommodate each other, neither seeking to overthrow the other or make it disappear. Today, such accommodation would require conservative Christians to back off their attempts to control the state and secular liberals to back off trying to make Christians embrace liberal social ideals. Neither Rauch nor anyone else can promise that democracy and Christianity will find a way to mend bridges. But hope springs eternal — like an article of faith. Christine Mehta can be reached at
