Puritan Nation

FREELOADERS WELCOME:

Four Questions in the Universal Quest for Meaning (Robert Jensen, September 16, 2026, Highbrow)

Here’s one more aspect of my life that might be a bit odd: A friend told me that he doesn’t know anyone who is more compelled not only to think about these issues, but to work out a framework in which the questions make sense; come to a resolution of the issues consistent with that framework, even if the conclusions are not convenient; work to explain the framework and resolutions in plain language; then defend the results in public, even if it leads to clashes not only with political opponents but also with friends.

Few things flatter the faithful more than the attempt of agnostics to structure their lives as if the God they claim not to believe in did exist.

WE ARE ALL CREATIONIST:

Without This Concept, Liberalism Is Nothing (Jeffery Tyler Syck, Sep 15, 2026, Providence)

The principles that Jefferson championed—that all men are created equal because all men have innate worth—remain more relevant than ever. At their very best, these ideas have been the driving force behind liberalism, breaking the chains of slavery, fueling social movements that have pushed for greater equality in all walks of life, and sparking revolutions against oppressive governments across the globe. In many ways, Jefferson’s greatest hopes have come to fruition and liberalism has, as he predicted, been a force for good across the world.


The idea of an egalitarian human dignity at the heart of the political order was not just Jefferson’s quirky view of liberal government and society. For most of liberalism’s early history, liberal thinkers saw themselves as making more universal and secular the Christian idea of the Imago Dei—that everyone is born with God Himself reflected in their being.

Freeloaders welcome.

LIBERTY RESTRICTS FREEDOM:

Liberty for Whom? David M. Kennedy on Patrick Henry: The Revolution’s master orator saw freedom in states’ sovereignty, not federal control. (David M. Kennedy, August 25, 2026, Freedom Frequency)

But what about that word “liberty”? My callow and rambunctious adolescent brain understood it to mean personal freedom, the kind of autonomy that latter-day libertarians assert as an unalienable individual right.

I’ve come to believe that my youthful understanding was not entirely wrong, but it was seriously incomplete, arguably even mistaken in its fundamentals. Properly understood, Henry’s concept of liberty indeed embraced at least a qualified sense of individual prerogatives, of the sort that Thomas Jefferson enshrined in the Declaration of Independence. But for him the essential, foundational concept of liberty was a collective attribute, the sacred right of organic communities—or, more precisely, majorities in such communities—to govern themselves without outside interference, and sometimes even to subordinate individual welfare to the will of the larger community.

YOU LOST THEM AT MATURITY:

“Upon More Mature Reflection”: Hamilton’s About-Face on Removal in 1789 (Gary J. Schmitt, 6/08/26, The Constitutionalist)

During the First Congress’s debate in which James Madison and others defended the ideas that the president had the constitutional power to remove department heads “at pleasure,” one of Madison’s opponents noted that, in Federalist #77, Alexander Hamilton had written that the Senate’s consent would be necessary not only for an official’s appointment but also “to displace” them. Madison and Hamilton, the two most influential expositors of the newly adopted constitution were seemingly at odds over how the government would remove senior administration figures.

Hamilton, alerted to the fact that his statement in Federalist #77 had been used to challenge Madison’s argument sent a note (see William Smith letter to Edward Rutledge, June 21, 1789) to a Madison ally in the House to let its members know that “upon more mature reflection,” he now agreed with Madison. The power to remove was the president’s alone as a constitutionally implied power of the office.

THERE IS NO FOURTH BRANCH (EXCEPT THE FED):

Dispatching Humphrey’s Executor (Christopher James Wolfe, 8/12/26, Law & Liberty)

Thach fully recounts all of that in his book, but he would perhaps add three additional points to the chief justice’s account.

First, Thach would add to the discussion of the Articles of Confederation period. In chapter 3, he describes the Continental Congress’ attempts to execute the laws without an executive branch:

Having reached a decision, [the Continental Congress] entrusted its execution to whatever agency seemed at the moment most convenient, perhaps a committee of its own membership, perhaps a state council or convention, perhaps individuals without official status. Such agencies, having carried out the order in question, immediately lapsed. There was neither plan nor organization.

These committees for execution ate up Congress’ time, created turf wars, and were ineffective—leading to calls for a national executive branch of some sort. The plural executive model was failing both at the national and state levels, therefore. How to fix the national executive branch, making it both energetic and democratically accountable, was a question left open even in Madison’s Virginia Plan presented at the beginning of the convention.

Second, in chapter 4, Thach points out that the key model for the presidency cited during the convention was the New York governorship of George Clinton. That was the one state where a truly unitary model had been tried, and it had worked well, so well that Clinton rival Alexander Hamilton felt compelled to cite him as a paradigm in Federalist #70. It is true that the New York Constitution did not spell out appointment and removal powers for the executive branch, but “[Governor] Clinton’s control of nominations had given him control of the patronage, as was well known to all conversant with New York politics,” writes Thach. Here is another important point: after the convention, arguments made by various participants at the convention are repeated by the defenders of the Constitution, no matter who made them in the summer of 1787.

Third, Thach offers a highly nuanced account of the different sides in the Decision of 1789. He points out that eighteen Congressmen involved in the Decision of 1789 had been at the Constitutional Convention themselves—it was virtually the same “political environment.” During the debate, there were four camps, but one can tell by reading the debates that the presidential removal argument won the day—and got the final vote that mattered. Six of the House members present at the convention voted for the bill (Madison, Clymer, Baldwin, Carroll, Fitzsimons, and Gilman), while just two voted against (Sherman and Gerry, a “Grumbletonian”). The fact that several Congressmen were members of the convention is a significant point that Chief Justice Roberts leaves out; the Decision of 1789 gives us insight into the original meaning of Article II. It is not just one Congressional interpretation that could be erased by a later Congress, as it tried to during the Tenure of Office years after Reconstruction. As Chief Justice Taft said in Myers v. US, the Decision of 1789 is “contemporaneous legislative exposition” (272 US 175). And what is especially definitive about the Decision of 1789 is that the Senate renounced the power of removals. Thach writes: “The significance of the [Senate] vote is the greater when it is remembered that instances where a political body voluntarily deprives itself of power are very few in all the history of government.”

THE CULTURE WARS ARE A ROUT:

An Odyssey without paganism: In Christopher Nolan’s epic adaptation, the gods are almost entirely absent—and the hero is motivated by something like Christian ethics. (Kathryn Reklis, August 5, 2026, Christian Century)

Perhaps most surprising is the way Nolan brings the story into a Christianly inflected moral universe (but without making it a Christian movie). The Greek principle of xenia, the reciprocal bond between strangers and hosts that demands hospitality and gift exchange, is updated as a general moral principle articulated by one character as a version of the golden rule and extended by Odysseus even to acts of war. The Odysseus of Homer’s poem does not spend time worrying if his feats of cunning to win the war are ethical or if he has an obligation to treat his enemies with kindness and fairness. Nolan’s Odysseus seems to think of little else.

NO ONE WILL MISS JOBS:

The True History of New England’s Stone Walls: Why we love them, and why I build them (Matt Seaton, July 19, 2026, The Atlantic)

[T]oday, we live with a solid remnant of that astonishing feat of human labor—the quarter-million miles of stone walls that an 1871 survey measured in the American Northeast. Where those walls still stand, we cherish them as charismatic markers of the Yankee landscape. Contoured lines of stacked stones running across fields help organize the vista. Their geometry implies a reassuring sense of something permanent—and permanently right—about a deeply American scene, along with white clapboard houses, red barns, rolling hills, goldenrod.

I first became properly acquainted with stone walls after my wife inherited her parents’ Vermont home, in 2010. A ramshackle line of piled rocks ran between the garden and the meadow. One section had gotten pulled aside and left in a heap, and there the stones had lain for several decades, slowly gathering humus and turning into something resembling a small burial mound—until I came along and decided to disinter the stuff and pile it back up. My work was rudimentary, but I was enraptured.

Other modest efforts followed, and then came the coronavirus pandemic. In need of something to counteract the alienation of desk-bound remote work, I turned to the collapsed and spreading 70-foot vestige of a wall that bounded the beginning of the meadow. I attended a day course at the Stone Trust, an educational foundation in southern Vermont, where I learned the principles of building to a line, “battening” (the English style of tapering a wall inward toward its apex), and reinforcing with through-stones and copestones; my building became more proficient.

Bit by bit—which is the way with walls—my interest and knowledge deepened until what had begun as recreation morphed into a hobby job, mending other people’s walls. Eventually, I realized not only that I liked building walls, but also that I could scratch a subsistence living at it. In what probably struck friends and family as an act of lunacy, I quit my day job as an editor at this magazine and became a part-time waller.

AMERICA RUNS ON DUNKIN:

The Baptist First Amendment (Matthew Young, Ad Fontes)

In the wake of such decisions, many conservatives and Christians—particularly among Reformed protestants—have questioned the view of the establishment clause, preferring some form of Christian nationalist or establishmentarian regime instead. Yet these reactions surrender the First Amendment too quickly. For what has been lost in the modernist interpretation of the First Amendment is the religious origins of the establishment clause. Contra Justice Black, the religion clauses of the First Amendment did not spring from Enlightenment rationalism or the ideal of a secular public sphere freed from religious influence. Instead, they represented the triumph of a particular and distinctly Protestant (and, to be specific, Baptist) account of the liberty of conscience that rejected religious coercion while still envisioning an expansive role for religion, in which Christianity could shape public life and policy.

Few things written on the First Amendment have been as deeply obfuscating as Hugo Black’s decision to rely on Thomas Jefferson’s beliefs to define the meaning of the First Amendment. While Jefferson may have played a limited role in the fight for religious freedom, there is little reason to give his interpretation primacy. Despite dominating Black’s reading of the law, Jefferson was in France while the Amendment was debated, with his role in promoting the Amendment largely confined to occasional correspondence with James Madison. Moreover, as a rationalist and republican, Jefferson’s hostility toward religious influence in politics was uncharacteristic of the other framers—including most of those who supported the First Amendment. The Amendment was established thanks to an uneasy alliance between Enlightenment deists and the deeply religious—what Sidney Mead famously called the “rationalist-pietist alliance.” The pious—like the Baptist pastors Isaac Backus and John Leland— who supported the Amendment saw it as narrowly forbidding religious coercion, rather than barring religious influence in the public sphere. Jefferson’s view was marginal: despite his apparent attempts to court the Baptists who had allied to secure the Amendment (including his famous letter to the Danbury Baptists on the “wall of separation”), contemporary evidence shows that few, if any, supported Jefferson’s view.


In choosing to elevate Jefferson over, say, Backus, Justice Black sided with those Enlightenment deists and 20th-century liberals for whom the separation of church and state came to represent a sort of contempt for the very religious faith— and religious influence in politics—that birthed it.

    THE CONSTITUTIONAL ORDER:


    Humphrey’s Executor Has Been Slaughtered: The Supreme Court has finally brought the administrative state back under elected control. (Ilya Shapiro, Jun 30 2026, City Journal)

    [T]he Federal Trade Commission isn’t a debating society. It, along with its alphabet-agency brethren, writes rules with the force of law, investigates private parties, adjudicates violations, and sues in federal court on behalf of the United States. Whatever labels Congress attached to that body in the Progressive Era, the FTC—like the FCC, SEC, NLRB, and so on—today exercises executive power. And the Constitution vests “the executive power” in one president, not in commissioners serving staggered terms, answerable to no one whom voters can fire.

    This ruling isn’t a gift to Donald Trump or his successors. It’s a restoration of constitutional accountability. Congress can create executive-branch agencies and specify what they may do, but it cannot create a fourth branch of government and then pretend its officers are independent of the only person the Constitution makes responsible for executing federal law.

    Roberts put the point crisply at the end of Slaughter: “Subordinates who exercise the President’s power are subject to removal by him.” That’s a unitary, not an imperial, presidency, and it’s a hallmark of republican government.

    THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH OVER REASON:

    After 1776, the founders designed a government that accounts for ‘a degree of depravity in mankind’ (Donovan Fifeld, July 16, 2026, The Conversation)


    Hamilton, Madison and Jay responded to these criticisms as a group. Adopting the pen name Publius, they published 85 essays in New York newspapers supporting ratification. In defense of the Constitution’s proposal to increase the powers of the proposed national government, these authors turned to some of the most basic philosophical questions about humanity.

    Each argued that the inherent flaws of human nature necessitated a strong government to check political abuse, self-interest and even violence that they saw as inherent in the fabric of human society. They rallied around the position reflected in Madison’s famous statement in the essay known as Federalist 51 that “if men were angels, no government would be necessary.”

    The Federalist Papers include proposals for institutional solutions that sought to redirect the destructive drives of individuals toward positive social ends. To the authors, a new constitutional government that controlled both the impulses of the masses and the abuses of their leaders would serve as the means through which the new United States government could accomplish this task.

    Each saw human nature as susceptible to corruption by base impulses and self-interest.

    In Federalist 10, Madison argued that faction is “sown in the nature of man.”

    Similarly, in Federalist 6, Hamilton rejected the commonly held idea that republics were automatically peaceful. Instead, he argued, political leaders and states were driven by ambitions and jealousies, which he saw as a characteristic shortcoming of the government under the Articles of Confederation as well as a law of nature governing relations between nations.

    Hamilton wrote that if the states remained disunited, then “the subdivisions into which they might be thrown would have frequent and violent contests with each other.” To argue otherwise, he wrote, would be “to forget that men are ambitious, vindictive, and rapacious.”

    Consequently, as Hamilton asserted in Federalist 15, governments must have effective coercive authority to enforce laws because they cannot rely solely on the goodwill and civic virtue of their citizens: “If there be no penalty annexed to disobedience, the resolutions or commands which pretend to be laws will, in fact, amount to nothing more than advice or recommendation.”

    Ultimately, the defense of the Constitution provided by the Federalist Papers sought to frame the new government in terms of a skeptical view of humanity that recognized what Madison called “a degree of depravity in mankind.”

    Man is Fallen.