Keeping the Republic Means Taming the Tribe

Originally published in the Columbus Dispatch print edition, this is a slightly expanded version that goes into more detail. I truly appreciate the Dispatch for their willingness to include contrarian voices and headlines that help to sell newspapers.

Social scientists often describe humans as a tribal species. All too often, we’re a violent one too.

As our numbers grew, we developed civilizing structures to manage those base instincts that would otherwise impede our ability to live closely together and eventually form cohesive, great nations.

Even while inventing technological advancements like artificial intelligence, we haven’t reinvented our tribal nature. While AI could come at the cost of some of our jobs, our tribalism might cost us our country.

We instinctively prefer the company of — and seek refuge with — our own kind, whether it’s our family, tribe, or nation. And we know from our earliest historical records that religious belief and rituals have been an integral part of the human experience — while also serving as a source of both comfort and conflict.

Until the establishment of United States of America, most great nations in history were closely tied to particular religious orders as a unifying force, replete with the power of the divine.

While our nation’s founders were well-steeped in the Judeo-Christian tradition, and our Declaration of Independence explicitly acknowledges divine provenance, the Constitution they wrote is equally explicit in creating a secular form of government.

Even with this founding ethos, our tribal nature is ever present and as religious adherence has waned, political affiliation and associated rituals have taken its place.

Political partisans quickly deny any such tribal characterizations of themselves or their side but are just as quick to see that tendency in their opponents. The “woke” left and MAGA right have little ideology in common but are equally strident with often religious fervor in their opposition to those they oppose. 

Few on either side can coherently articulate their reasoning; it’s pure tribalism.

Next year, Americans will celebrate our nation’s 250th birthday. During the 1787 Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, the wife of the city’s mayor asked Benjamin Franklin what type of government the delegates had created. Franklin famously replied, “a republic, madam, if you can keep it.”

It’s a democratic, constitutional republic we need to keep. Not a democracy.

The distinction matters because “We the People of the United States,” as in the opening phrase of our Constitution, are bound together by an inherently competitive yet conciliatory form of self-government.

We have neither the totalitarianism that results from the mob rule of direct democracy nor that which results from a monarchy or dictatorship.

But our unique system requires — if not demands — the ability and willingness of our political tribes to come together to actually hash things out. We might not agree about particular policies but our increasing refusal to even engage each other in reasoned discussion and debate is a recipe only for more vitriolic division. 

If you believe your views are so sacrosanct they aren’t subject to challenge, and you’ve rejected the company of family or friends because of it, then you’re part of the problem. If you eagerly wish for or celebrate the death of your political or ideological opponents, you’ve entirely lost the plot of civilization itself.

For our system of government to function — and for a civil society overall — we need people in our lives who think and believe differently than we do. We must allow our views to be challenged and to learn how to challenge others without assuming ill motive.

If you view every disagreement as an attack on your inviolable principles or your very existence, then maybe the problem isn’t with those who disagree with you but rather with the tenuousness of your beliefs and even more so your ability to defend them.

In The Coddling of the American Mind, the authors describe how we got to this point and why it’s so at odds with a healthy life and culture.

They sum it up with what they call the three Great Untruths:

What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker; always trust your feelings; and life is a battle between good people and evil people. These three Great Untruths contradict basic psychological principles about well-being and ancient wisdom from many cultures.

I’m not particularly religious. But I see great value in many religious rituals and traditions because they offer to us the opportunity to think about the lessons and wisdom passed down to us over thousands of years.

We could use a reminder of some of those lessons in our troubled times today.

This past week, Jews and Christians celebrated Passover and Easter, two of the most important holidays of their respective faiths. That they are celebrated so close together is no accident, as the Last Supper is generally considered to have been a Seder — the ritual dinner marking the beginning of Passover.

The connection is more than just temporal, it’s philosophical and spiritual too as both represent a new beginning. For Jews, Passover is a story of freedom and justice told each year for nearly four millennia. For Christians, Easter marks the resurrection of Jesus, an event that offers hope for their own redemption.

Both stories command us to think beyond ourselves, to value both liberty and community, conflict and forgiveness, passion and grace.

Memorial Day is a few weeks away. Let’s celebrate the sacrifice of those who fought for our freedom in a way that reminds us that we’re all in the same tribe.