Puritan Nation

SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION:

How the U.S. Constitution protects liberty from the powerful’s dark impulses: In this excerpt from Separation of Powers, Cass Sunstein explains how the U.S. Constitution prevents such a concentration of authority from turning democracy into despotism. (Cass Sunstein, March 5, 2026, Big Think)

On its face, the Constitution aims to forbid the accumulation of all powers in the same hands. Of course, the idea of a king was foremost in the minds of those who fought the American Revolution and devised the founding document. But the separation of powers extends far beyond the rejection of the idea of kings.

Article I, section 1 of the Constitution says this: “All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives.” Article II, section 1 of the Constitution says this: “The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America.” Article III, section 1 of the Constitution says this: “The judicial Power of the United States shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish.”

These provisions establish the separation of powers. (So much for Carl Schmidt.) We might want to emphasize the word all in Article I and the word the in Articles II and III. The Constitution seems to contemplate that there is something called the executive power and another called the judicial power, and that they are vested in particular institutions. And if all legislative powers are vested in Congress, then they would seem to be vested nowhere else.

The separation of powers, it is called, but we should immediately be able to see that the term is too broad and undifferentiated. In a way, it is a misnomer. The separation of powers is a they, not an it. It is an umbrella concept, and it seems to include six separations of powers:

The legislature may not exercise the executive power.
The legislature may not exercise the judicial power.
The executive may not exercise the legislative power.
The executive may not exercise the judicial power.
The judiciary may not exercise the legislative power.
The judiciary may not exercise the executive power.


The six separations can be taken to include three sets of prohibitions. There are two things that the legislature cannot do, two things that the executive branch cannot do, and two things that the judiciary cannot do.

A FOUNDING FOR THE FALLEN:

What the American Revolution Secured: Order, Justice, and Freedom (Russell Kirk Center, Mar 15, 2026)

The moral and political principles Americans defended in 1776 were already generations, even centuries, old. The moral principle of the dignity of man carried forward the convictions of the ancient Hebrews through the religious impulse of the Puritan settlers. From those convictions arose protections for natural rights, tempered by the needs of circumstance.

Yet the same religious inheritance that affirmed the glory of man also recognized the stain of original sin. Human dignity existed alongside human imperfection. Seen in this light, the supposed “split personality” of Publius in The Federalist disappears. The tension between a sober view of human nature requiring institutional restraint and a confidence in the possibility of public virtue simply reflects the Framers’ religious understanding of the human heart. Humane order accounts for both tendencies: the glory of the Imago Dei rising toward the heavens and the weight of original sin pulling toward the abyss.

The political principle of ordered liberty likewise emerged through historical development, growing out of the constitutional experience of medieval and early modern England. Through English constitutional institutions—often more fully developed in the American colonies—order, justice, and freedom were sustained.

KNOW NOHINGS:

Smashing Plato’s Egg: Hidden in plain sight (Arron Reza Merat, Fall 2025, Hedgehog Review)

Michael Beresford Foster (1903–1959), Oxford tutor of A.J. Ayer, is among the most known for this view. The reason Greeks had no science, Foster argued, is because their philosophical traditions assumed an uncreated world. Unlike the Christian and Jewish God, who created nature ex nihilo, Plato’s Demiurge assembled the world out of a preexisting and eternal cosmos. God is analogous to a worker who makes things for a purpose—a chair for sitting, a pen for writing—and it is this purpose, or telos, that makes the object intelligible to the human mind. For the Greeks, natural objects were defined through reason alone, which can apprehend the true essence of things simply by contemplating the form given to them by their artificer. Matter, on the other hand, was irrelevant to knowing for the Greeks. It contributes nothing positive to an object’s being, obviating the need for science, based as it is on knowing through the empirical investigation of matter. The pagan theory of God presupposed here meant that God was not independent of the world and therefore has no omnipotent power over it. Nature in Greek thought, which tends toward panentheism, depends on God for its activity but never for its existence.

The God of Christianity is of another order. He is radically separated from Creation, which He creates out of whole cloth by establishing the conditions of possibility for all things. But through this arbitrary act of divine will, known in Christian theology as voluntarism, the purpose of the things He creates ex nihilo (and therefore the means by which humans can know them) is known only to God and remains forever obscure to His creatures. The Christian God who created the world from nothing is like an artist who paints on a whim. We do not know the purpose of the things in the world and—unlike with an artist who might, if she chose to, tell us her reasons—we cannot interview the Creator.

The Greek mode of thought is therefore incompatible with Christian cosmology in that it assumes one can know the mind of God through the things He made. For Christians, as for scientists, knowing is the humble endeavor of forever grasping at our mysterious reality. Only God really knows, and the best we can do is rise a little from our fallen state to know slightly more than nothing. Ecclesiastes 1:13 captures the idea: “I set my mind to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under the heavens. What a heavy burden God has laid on mankind!”

A POWER THAT CAN NOT BE DELEGATED:

No Tariffs Without Representation (Erik Matson, 2/22/26, Law & Liberty)

The president has less de facto control of the executive regulatory agencies than he ought to have as the head of the Executive Branch. But he himself also has too much power. One example now conspicuously in the public eye is the de facto powers the president now enjoys to unilaterally tax imported goods—that is, to levy tariffs.

According to the Constitution, the power to levy taxes lies with Congress. Article I, Section 8 reads: “The Congress shall have the Power to lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts, and Excises.” In the beginning, tariff schedules, like all federal tax schedules, were determined by Congress. Tariffs were the main source of federal revenue into the early twentieth century, prior to the establishment of the federal income tax in 1913. The prospect of the president unilaterally determining the particulars of any tax, let alone such an important array of taxes for revenue purposes, would have appeared unjust to many of our founders. […]

Congress began to delegate its tariff powers to the Executive Branch in 1934. At the encouragement of the Secretary of State Cordell Hull, Franklin Roosevelt secured the passage that year of the Reciprocal Trade Agreements Act (RTAA).

PEOPLE OF THE ARC:

Is Grit the American Virtue? (Phillip M. Pinell, 2/12/26, Ford Forum Observer)

For Mattie, grit means follow-through. It is the ability to do one’s job—however brutal—without flinching. Rooster’s violence is not admirable to her in itself, but it is evidence that he will persevere. Even this God-fearing young Presbyterian, no friend of vice, concludes that moral squeamishness is not a prerequisite for justice. Her father has been murdered. Justice requires the murderer be caught and hanged. Nothing more, nothing less. This is an Old Testament conception of justice, not as mercy to one’s enemy, but as measure-for-measure.

Yet as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Mattie possesses more grit than the man she hires. Despite Rooster’s attempts to leave her behind, she follows him into dangerous, unfamiliar terrain. She eats little, sleeps less, and refuses every opportunity to give up. Unlike Rooster, who is motivated by money, Mattie is animated by a righteous sense of duty. Her upbringing has made her the opposite of Rooster: law-abiding, methodical, stubbornly principled. And yet she, not Rooster, ultimately kills Chaney with her father’s own rifle.

This tension—between the lawless grit of Rooster and the principled grit of Mattie—captures something fundamental about the American character as imagined in our national mythology. If America is shaped by the dispositions of those who came before, Mattie embodies the perseverance of early American settlers and frontier families, the relentless Protestant insistence that injustice must be confronted directly, that one must not shrink from doing hard things oneself. Her world is set fifty years after Tocqueville’s travels, yet she would not look out of place in his account of the determined, self-reliant Americans of Jacksonian America.

The Western endures because it dramatizes this dual nature of American grit. Sometimes it manifests as admirable perseverance, sometimes as dangerous vigilante hardness. But it is unmistakably American in its insistence that adversity is not an excuse to retreat.

JUST THREE BRANCHES:

Justice Barrett, Trump v. Slaughter, and Presidential Removal Power from 1881 to 1901: Every president from 1881 to 1901 successfully defended presidential at-will removal power. (Steven Calabresi, 1.6.2026, Volokh Conspiracy)

During the oral argument in Trump v. Slaughter, Justice Amy Coney Barrett asked counsel for respondent Slaughter how long independent agencies had existed for and counsel suggested to her, incorrectly, that they dated back to the last twenty years of the 19th Century. In fact, as I will show in a series of posts on this blog, no truly independent agency ever existed prior to the decision in Humphrey’s Executor v. United States in 1935. My full account of the history of presidential resistance to the creation of independent agencies during this period appears in: Steven G. Calabresi & Christopher S. Yoo, The Unitary Executive: Presidential Power from Washington to Bush (Yale University Press 2008). This blog post will discuss presidential removal power from 1881 to 1901. Subsequent posts will examine presidential removal power from 1901 to 2009. None of these posts could have been written by me without consulting and quoting from the excellent work done by my book co-author, Professor Christopher S. Yoo. He gets all the credit, and I take all the blame for whatever is said below.

In recounting our actual practice from 1881 to 1999, I do not mean to endorse the view that this practice is constitutionally relevant to deciding Trump v. Slaughter. I believe that President Trump should win this case because of the original public meaning of the text of the Constitution. I recognize, however, that only two of the nine justices on the current Supreme Court follow exclusively the original public meaning of the Constitution’s text. All the other seven justices on today’s Supreme Court think, to various degrees, that arguments from practice are sometimes relevant to the question of whether Humphrey’s Executor (1935) should be overruled. Since I have co-published the book with Christopher Yoo cited above on our actual practice, and since the issue is now pending before the Supreme Court, I want to explain why the arguments from presidential practice that Christopher Yoo helped me to write about 18 years ago support overruling Humphrey’s Executor (1935).

IT’S A PURITAN NATION:

Calvin Coolidge’s “Hebraic Mortar”: Henry Ford sought to mainstream anti-Jewish sentiment in the United States. In a 1925 address, Coolidge decisively broke with Ford’s movement. (Devorah Goldman, 12/22/25, Public Discourse)

But he argues that the colonial character was nonetheless marked by a common religious liberalism: “From its beginnings, the new continent had seemed destined to be the home of religious tolerance.” This, he suggests, is because of the Bible, “the work of literature that was common to all of them.” Scripture was everywhere in the colonies. Citing “the historian Lecky”—presumably the nineteenth-century Irishman William Lecky—Coolidge contends that “Hebraic mortar cemented the foundations of American democracy.”

For the “sturdy old divines of those days,” the Bible served as a patriotic rallying cry:

They knew the Book. They were profoundly familiar with it, and eminently capable in the exposition of all its justifications for rebellion. To them, the record of the exodus from Egypt was indeed an inspired precedent. They knew what arguments from holy writ would most powerfully influence their people. It required no great stretch of logical processes to demonstrate that the children of Israel, making bricks without straw in Egypt, had their modern counterpart in the people of the colonies, enduring the imposition of taxation without representation!

The idea of America as a kind of Israel, an “almost chosen nation,” in Abraham Lincoln’s words some generations earlier, was not new. William Bradford, founder of the Plymouth colony in 1620, compared his personal study of Hebrew to Moses seeing the Promised Land, yet not being permitted to enter. John Davenport and Theophilus Eaton, founders of the New Haven colony in 1637, were expert Hebrew scholars; around half of the dozens of statutes in the New Haven code of 1655 contained references to Hebrew scripture. Davenport ensured that the first public school in New Haven included Hebrew in the core curriculum and encouraged broad engagement with, as Coolidge puts it, the “great figures of Hebrew history, with Joshua, Samuel, Moses, Joseph, David, Solomon, Gideon, Elisha.” The United States is peppered with place names sourced from the Bible: Salem, Sharon, Jericho, Bethlehem, Goshen, Shiloh, and Hebron are just a few examples.

George Washington famously sent warm greetings to Jewish congregations, most notably to a synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island, where he offered a blessing inspired by Hebrew prophets: “May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants—while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.”

This biblical rootedness, Coolidge suggests, remains vital to maintaining a cohesive polity. A shared attachment to the Bible bolstered the patriot cause, drawing together scattered sympathies and interests and “divergencies of religious faith.” It is no wonder, he notes, that Jews—who first arrived on America’s shores in the 1650s—formed an integral part of the Revolutionary War effort, giving ample blood and treasure.

THREE COEQUAL BRANCHES WITH DIFFERENT RESPONSIBILITIES:

Supreme Court to Demolish the Special Interest Capture of “Independent” Agencies: Liberal and conservative justices switch sides in Slaughter, but a Democratic victory in 2026 Senate elections would render decision meaningless (Peterson, Paul E., Dec 15, 2025, The Modern Federalist)

The growing conservative support for a unitary executive goes well beyond Trump’s own desire to centralize decision making within the White House. Conservatives have long questioned the power of “iron triangles”—a nexus of special interests, congressional subcommittees, and agency bureaucrats—over regulatory policy. University of Chicago’s Nobel prizewinning economist Goerge Stigler observed as early as 1971 that independent regulatory agencies fail to serve the public interest but are captured “by industry and are designed and operated primarily for its benefit.” That argument appeared in the oral argument when Justice Brett Kavanaugh asked about the “dangers” independent agencies posed, giving the Trump Administration’s attorney the opportunity to refer to Stigler in his response: “is [the danger] . . . industry capture of the agencies?”

Today’s liberal justices are more tolerant of special interest representation on regulatory commissions, perhaps because, in the words of a New York Times commentator, the use of independent regulatory agencies “has meant more corporate regulation.” Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson spells out the liberal position: “Congress has decided that some issues, some matters, some areas should be handled . . . by nonpartisan experts . . . that expertise matters. . . So having a president come in and fire all the scientists and the doctors and the economists and the Ph. Ds and replacing them with loyalists and people who don’t know anything is actually not in the best interest of the citizens.”

Independent regulatory agencies date back to 1887 when Congress created the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC). Its job was to protect railroad corporations from the rising strength of farmers and small business operators in prairie and mountain states, who insisted on low shipping fees. Oklahoma, for example, ratified a constitution that required a rate of no more than two cents per mile.

As transportation systems became more complex, Congress expanded the ICC board from five to eleven members to accommodate the concerns of additional interests (such as truckers, bus lines, pipelines, and water carriers), but special-interest self-regulation introduced such massive inefficiencies into these industries Congress finally dismantled the agency (though the Surface Transportation Board (STB) took on some of its functions).

It is another oddity that Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) is credited with the spread of ICC-style agencies when in fact he would have preferred more direct control. It is true he made use of the institution when he sought legislation that would allow him to regulate the economy in ways thought necessary to combat the depression. The independent agencies proved so popular there is now, depending on how one counts, an “alphabet soup” of 20 to 25 such entities, including the Security and Exchange Commission (SEC), National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), Federal Maritime Commission (FMC), the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC), Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) on which conservative Republican William E. Humphrey served until FDR fired him. Humphrey then died, leaving behind an Executor to fight successfully for compensation to the estate for the time the commissioner would have served.

But FDR’s dismissal of Humphrey reveals the president himself was not enamored with independent agencies. Instead, they were promoted by a Republican-southern Democrat coalition in Congress, seeking to place limits on the power of a strong president. The coalition was solidified by Republican opposition to a powerful unitary executive and southern Democratic insistence that segregated institutions in the South be protected from national interference.

WE ARE HUME’S CHILDREN, NOT LOCKE’S:

God, Liberty & Epicurus (Michael Lucchese, Feb 27, 2025, Athwart)

Zubia goes on to convincingly argue that this modern Epicureanism has consequences for Hume’s political thought. Although the Scotsman is commonly considered a critic of social contract theory and even a “prophet of counterrevolution,” his skepticism places him squarely within the liberal tradition founded by Thomas Hobbes. Whatever critiques he offered of the fanciful contractarianism of his day, Hume nonetheless conceived of society as a sort of contract to secure justice—and a particular kind of justice at that.

It is no exaggeration to say that Hume’s vision of justice is bound up with his sense of progress. “Political science, from Hume’s perspective, is tasked with locating and improving,” Zubia writes, “man-made social and political institutions that are responsible for moving human beings from barbarism to civilization, or, stated in slightly different terms, all of which convey his meaning, from partiality to impartiality, from savagery to humanity, from warfare to peace.” Hume was an ardent defender of the British constitution, then, because he saw it as a sort of “end to history,” a final answer to the problem of politics.

Specifically, Hume privileged utility over what Zubia calls “the classical tradition of moral and political theorizing” about the Beautiful. In Hume’s account, the British constitution, with its checks and balances and commercializing spirit, lowered the aims of government from virtue to security in a way that was simply more conducive to life by orienting it to the here and now rather than any vague religious concept of eternity. As Zubia describes it, “Hume’s political theory provides an institutional formula by which self-interest, in the form of avarice and ambition, might redirect and restrain itself.”

This account of Hume’s political theory may sound strikingly familiar to American ears. Does it not remind us of Publius’s maxim in Federalist 51 that “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition”? Certainly in the rhetoric of The Federalist, we can trace the influence of Hume’s political thought.

DON’T SQUANDER OUR INHERITANCE:

Order for a Disordered Time: a review of The Roots of American Order by Russell Kirk (Daniel Pitt, University Bookman)

When one thinks of order one might think of the phrase law and order. Kirk explains, however, that order is wider and larger than law. Law is, of course, an important element of sustaining order but they are not indistinguishable. My own way of thinking about the difference between law and order is that law is a puzzle piece in the overall puzzle of order. The other puzzle pieces are traditions, norms, customs, and beliefs. Together they form the whole picture of order. Dr. Kirk provides us with two types of order: (1) order in one’s soul; and (2) order within the civil society at large. Kirk ensures that the reader is not led to believe that this categorization of order means that they are discrete and distinct, but quite the contrary is true, these roots of order are deeply “intertwined.” […]

What do we derive from these cities? From Jerusalem, the concept of “a purposeful moral existence under God,” who cares about His nations and human persons and who is the source of all morality. From Athens, we learn that human beings are social beings, and they need to live in a community and that order in the soul and order in civil society are linked together. From Rome, we learn the importance of venerating our ancestors. Of course, these roots were intertwined “with the Christian understanding of human duties and human hopes.” From London, we get Magna Carta, equality before the law, common law, representative government, the English language, America’s social patterns and the foundations of its economy. On personal freedom in America, Kirk states that “in its origins, American personal liberty perhaps owes more to the common law than any other single source.” Indeed, according to Kirk, “the law, which is no respecter of persons, stands supreme: that is the essence of British legal theory and legal practice, and it passed into America from the first colonial settlements onwards.” From Philadelphia, the roots are America’s founding documents. In other words, the importance of art, law, ordered-liberty, community and tradition derive from these five cities, and they are essential to human prosperity, flourishing, and order.