Federalism

In the United States, states have a long history of being considerably less than united. The Articles of Confederation were so focused on protecting the prerogatives of the individual colonies that they proved unworkable, and were replaced by a Constitution that made its own significant concessions to “states’ rights.”

As the country modernized and experienced increasing economic and social integration, the need for national standards became more obvious. Lawmakers recognized that federal agencies regulating things like health or clean air and water needed to issue regulations that would operate similarly in all the states. The Uniform Law Commission (also known as the National Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws), was created to draft legislation that would bring stability and conformity to state statutory law in areas where such uniformity is seen as desirable and practical. And there is an obvious need for federal law enforcement to enforce its criminal laws nationally.

But there is still room for considerable variation. Justice Brandeis memorably called the states in our federalist system “laboratories of democracy.”

Americans increasingly operate, live and do business in multiple states–a situation that led me to discount the importance of federalism for a long time. (Different laws in different states, after all, caused some very silly situations; before the Supreme Court found same-sex marriage to be a Constitutional right, people who were married in one state weren’t considered married in others.) I focused on the downside and failed to appreciate the upside.

The Trump administration has reminded me of federalism’s importance. Governors like Jay Pritzker in Illinois and Gavin Newsom in California, among others, have illustrated that importance, and a recent article from Vox called federalism a “hidden constraint” on Trump.

So far, the biggest successes against President Donald Trump’s second-term assault on democracy have come not from Congress and the Supreme Court, but more unusual sources: lower-court judges, “No Kings” protests, a Disney+ subscriber boycott, and Trump’s own indiscipline and incompetence.

After the 2025 elections, we can add the states to the list. And in some ways, this avenue of resistance may prove to be the most consequential one.

The article noted that the United States’ federalist system is unusual among backsliding democracies– and that it creates some “major opportunities for institutional pushback” that aren’t possible elsewhere. It also notes the irony of where we are today, since for most of our history, states (especially in the South) “have been places where pockets of authoritarianism could exist in a nationally democratic society.”

Certain of the powers that are, in our system, remitted to the states — very much including control over the administration of elections — are mechanisms through which we can resist this administration’s authoritarian power grab. We can see this most vividly in Trump’s effort to rig the upcoming midterm elections by asking Red states to engage in improper mid-cycle gerrymanders.

Because election administration is almost entirely devolved to the states in the American system, Trump has very limited powers to actually try and rig elections from DC. Instead, gerrymandering at the state level — threatening and cajoling governors and state legislatures into drawing as many safe seats for Republicans as possible — is his best shot at actually stacking the deck in the GOP’s favor in 2026.

As we are seeing, that effort is currently failing. Not only have Blue states “counter-gerrymandered,” but legislators in Red states like Indiana have (at least so far) refused to go along, deferring to the huge majorities of their constituents who disapprove.

As the article points out, would-be autocrats follow a well-worn path that requires consolidating formal power in their own hands and neutering independent checks on their authority. It’s a lot harder to rig elections or prosecute your political opponents when you don’t control the necessary levels of power. True, strong federalism cannot guarantee democracy: (Our history has ample examples of authoritarianism flourishing at local levels) But that system creates “opportunities for contestation” when the national government is moving in an unAmerican direction.

It’s hard to imagine a more unAmerican–not to mention demented– administration than the one we currently have. In just the last week, our mad would-be King has accepted a bribe from Saudi Arabia, authorized extra-judicial killings of Venezuelan fishermen, called for the death of political opponents who had the temerity to remind our troops that they took an oath to defy manifestly illegal orders, and responded to a legitimate question from a reporter by calling her “piggy.”

Given the fact that we have a Congress of eunuchs and a corrupt majority on the Supreme Court, I have a new appreciation for the role of federalism in America’s system of checks and balances.

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What The Right Really Wants

Vox recently published an interesting postmortem of the midterm elections, looking to see how right-wing intellectuals (a term which I consider an oxymoron) are responding to the lack of that promised “red wave.”

This New Right “intellectual” movement arose after the 2016 election; its approach to Republican politics is a commitment to relentless, aggressive culture war. (Fortunately–at least in the recent elections–voters have seemed unreceptive.)

The article describes three distinct, albeit overlapping, reactions. One is a call to display what the article calls “some tactical moderation” (most notably by bracketing abortion, which was clearly not a winner for the GOP); another “centers on whether Donald Trump or Ron DeSantis represents the movement’s future, and what reasons there are to prefer one over the other.” The third centers on democracy itself.

A minority of New Right thinkers responded to defeat by suggesting the electorate is too far gone for conservatives to ever triumph — and even questioning the value of democracy itself.

“Democracy did not end slavery, and democracy will not end abortion,” declared Chad Pecknold, a self-described “postliberal” theologian at Catholic University.

The “thinkers” pursuing all-out culture war want to discard the conservative commitment to limited government; they argue that limiting the power of the state “stands in the way of waging an effective counterrevolution.”  They believe that their culture war can only be won “by jettisoning libertarianism and using the levers of policy to roll back the left’s cultural victories. Out with tax cuts, in with bans on critical race theory in schools.”

Abandoning the culture war, on this perspective, is not mere folly but national suicide. For some on the New Right, the idea that their approach to these issues might be unpopular is unthinkable. 

One star of the New Right argues for switching allegiance from Trump to  DeSantis –saying that he “backstops his culture-war agenda with capable governance.” (Granted, no one in his right mind could argue that Trump can even spell governance,  let alone provide it.) This DeSantis partisan believes DeSantis will be more able to deliver on the New Right’s shared goals: “to clean house in America: remove the attorney general, lay siege to the universities, abolish the teachers’ unions, and overturn the school boards.”  In other words,  eradicate “woke-ness.”

If the DeSantis contingent doesn’t terrify you sufficiently, there are the New Right “integralists.” These are “Catholic arch-conservatives who believe that the United States government should be replaced with a religious Catholic state.”

Integralists are a part of a broader “postliberal” trend among right-wing intellectuals that traces the cultural decay of American society back to its ruling liberal political philosophy: the doctrine that government should liberate people to pursue their own visions of the good life. Liberalism, they argue, promotes licentiousness and a corrosive individualism…

Postliberals believe that instead of protecting individual freedom, government should aim to promote the “common good” or “highest good”: to create a citizenry where people live good lives as defined by scripture and religious doctrine. This leads them to support an even more active role for the state than even the national conservatives, endorsing not only aggressive efforts to legislate morality but also expansions of the welfare state.

And here we come to the crux of the anti-democratic argument. It isn’t new.

Liberalism–properly defined–rests on a belief that humans are endowed–born with– certain “inalienable” rights that government must protect. The liberal conception of the common good is a society in which government respects those individual liberties to the extent that their expression does not infringe on the rights of others.

A liberal polity will argue–often vigorously–about where that line should be drawn. As I used to tell my students, freedom of religion cannot excuse the ritual sacrifice of your newborn.Figuring out what it can excuse is harder. Every liberty protected by the Bill of Rights has sparked philosophical and legal debate over the extent to which government must respect it–does your freedom of religion allow you to discriminate against people your church considers sinners? Does your Fourth Amendment right against unreasonable searches prevent government from going through the garbage bag you’ve left on the curb for pickup?

What the New Right wants is statism.  

These “thinkers” assume that they will be the ones who decide what the common good looks like–and they want government, under their control, to enforce their vision. (They’re not so different from the Tech moguls who want to impose their beliefs  by remaking society in their own image.) That approach to governance is incompatible with the cultural assumptions of most American citizens–not to mention the U.S. Declaration, Constitution and Bill of Rights.

You can call this philosophy a lot of things, but it sure isn’t American. 

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Investigating Rural Rage

Over the past several years, it has become impossible to ignore America’s urban/rural divide. The causes of that divide are subject to debate, and the focus of a good deal of research. Back in 2018, Robert Wuthnow–a noted scholar– published a book based upon eight years of interviews with rural folks across the country. It was titled The Left Behind: Decline and Rage in Rural America, and Wuthnow was interviewed about his findings by Sean Illing of Vox.

it made for fascinating, albeit depressing, reading.

The interviews were conducted between 2006 and 2014, and included people in every state in the country. The research team limited its focus to small towns with fewer than 25,000 people and excluded those close to suburbs or cities in recognition of data showing that suburban and exurban cultures differ from those of more isolated small towns.

Approximately 90 percent of small-town America is White, a demographic factor that explains a great deal (although Wuthnow notes that diversity is growing even in these precincts, as Latinos increasingly settle in them).

Wuthnow argues that the anger being expressed in rural America is less about economic concerns and more about the “perception that Washington is threatening the way of life in small towns.”

And just how, Illing asks him, is Washington accomplishing that?

I’m not sure that Washington is doing anything to harm these communities. To be honest, a lot of it is just scapegoating. And that’s why you see more xenophobia and racism in these communities. There’s a sense that things are going badly, and the impulse is to blame “others.

They believe that Washington really does have power over their lives. They recognize that the federal government controls vast resources, and they feel threatened if they perceive Washington’s interest being directed more toward urban areas than rural areas, or toward immigrants more than non-immigrants, or toward minority populations instead of the traditional white Anglo population.

These attitudes have hardened as small-town America has continued to empty out. These smaller communities have lost population steadily over the last few decades, and Wuthnow’s interviews and the book’s title reflected that reality. As he points out,

It’s not as though these people are desperate to leave but can’t. They value their local community. They understand its problems, but they like knowing their neighbors and they like the slow pace of life and they like living in a community that feels small and closed. Maybe they’re making the best of a bad situation, but they choose to stay.

They recognize themselves as being left behind because, in fact, they are the ones in their family and in their social networks who did stay where they were. Most of the people I spoke to grew up in the small town they currently live in, or some other small town nearby. Often their children have already left, either to college or in search of a better job somewhere else.

In that sense, they believe, quite correctly, that they’re the ones who stayed in these small towns while young people — and really the country as a whole — moved on.

That feeling of being left behind generates resentment–and that resentment is directed toward politicians they don’t like and especially toward people who don’t look or pray the way they do.

Wuthnow also found significant fear of change– expressed as a fear that traditional moral rules were “being wiped out by a government and a culture that doesn’t understand the people who still believe in these things.”

I think the concerns about moral decline often miss the mark. I think a lot of white Americans in these small towns are simply reacting against a country that is becoming more diverse — racially, religiously, and culturally. They just don’t how to deal with it. And that’s why you’re seeing this spike in white nationalism.

Wuthnow cautions against painting rural America with too broad a brush, and of course he’s right. Not all small towns are filled with seething reactionaries, just as not all urban neighborhoods are enclaves of brotherly love. Still, the data about opioid addiction and suicide rates should give pause to the notion that every small town is Mayberry or Green Acres or even Schitt’s Creek.

I missed Wuthnow’s book when it came out. I need to find it, because in the three years since its publication, the anger he studied has gotten more delusional and considerably more dangerous. It’s as if the people Wuthnow interviewed were fireplace tinder, and Trump and his sycophants were the arsonists who lit the match…

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