THE LONG TRAIN — WE DID THIS
We have spent considerable time talking about a long train of abuses and usurpations.
Government has grown.
Federal power has grown.
Administrative power has grown.
Regulation has grown.
Surveillance has grown.
Taxation has grown.
Spending has grown.
Debt has grown.
The number of laws, regulations, agencies, programs, mandates, licenses, permits, penalties, and governmental dependencies has grown.
And Americans love asking:
How did government become so powerful?
Today I want to give you an answer you may not like.
We did it.
The People did it.
Not because every American wanted bigger government.
Not because there was some national meeting where we voted to surrender our freedoms.
We did it through something far more ordinary.
Ignorance.
Apathy.
Fear.
Dependency.
Convenience.
Partisanship.
And sometimes—
cowardice.
Start with ignorance.
How many Americans have actually read the Constitution?
How many know what powers belong to Congress?
How many understand federalism?
Separation of powers?
Due process?
The authority of their state?
Their county?
Their sheriff?
How many can identify their county commissioners?
Their state representative?
Their prosecutor?
How many understand the difference between a constitutional right and a government benefit?
We created a government of limited and delegated powers—
and then stopped learning what those limits were.
You cannot defend a boundary you cannot identify.
And government naturally occupied the territory the People abandoned.
Then came apathy.
We stopped participating.
We complain about juries—
and try to escape jury duty.
We complain about politicians—
but won’t run for office.
We complain about local government—
but don’t attend the meetings.
We complain about legislation—
but don’t read the bills.
We complain about candidates—
but often know almost nothing about them beyond the letter beside their name.
Self-government requires something from us.
And too often, we couldn’t be bothered.
Then came partisanship.
This may have been one of our greatest failures.
We stopped asking:
Should government possess this power?
And started asking:
Who is exercising it?
When our party controlled government, we tolerated powers we would have condemned in the hands of the other party.
Executive power was wonderful—
when our president used it.
Federal power was necessary—
when our Congress exercised it.
Government agencies were trustworthy—
when they pursued people we disliked.
And then the election changed.
Suddenly we discovered constitutional limits again.
But it was too late.
Because the power we allowed our side to accumulate did not disappear when the other side took office.
We taught government that our principles were negotiable.
Then came fear.
War.
Terrorism.
Crime.
Economic collapse.
Disease.
Emergency.
Every generation faced something it was told required just a little more governmental power.
And frightened people repeatedly made the same bargain:
Protect me, and I will surrender something.
Maybe temporarily.
Maybe just until the emergency ends.
But government learned something about us.
Fear makes free people willing to accept things they would reject under ordinary circumstances.
Then came dependency.
We wanted government to solve more problems.
Educate us.
Protect us.
Subsidize us.
Insure us.
Finance us.
Regulate our competitors.
Protect our industries.
Protect our jobs.
Protect our retirement.
Protect our businesses.
Protect us from bad decisions.
And every time we gave government another responsibility—
we necessarily gave government additional power to perform it.
We wanted the benefit without confronting the authority necessary to provide it.
Eventually millions of Americans became financially dependent upon the very institution they were supposed to supervise.
Then came convenience.
Freedom requires responsibility.
It requires risk.
It requires tolerating other people’s choices.
Government control frequently promises something easier.
A rule.
A program.
A regulator.
A license.
A prohibition.
Someone else responsible for deciding.
And little by little we traded:
responsibility for regulation.
Then we surrendered our institutions.
The jury became an inconvenience.
The county became something most people couldn’t explain.
The sheriff became merely another law-enforcement administrator.
State government became another pipeline for federal money.
Congress delegated enormous responsibilities to administrative agencies.
And the citizen increasingly became a spectator.
Then came perhaps the ugliest reason.
Cowardice.
How many times have Americans known something was wrong—
and remained silent?
Because they might lose a job.
Lose a customer.
Lose a friend.
Be called a name.
Be criticized online.
Be investigated.
Be embarrassed.
Stand alone.
We celebrate the courage of the Founders because their courage costs us nothing.
But defending liberty in our own lives can cost something.
And too often we chose comfort.
Then we committed another enormous mistake.
We outsourced the defense of freedom.
We said:
The courts will protect us.
Congress will protect us.
The Supreme Court will protect us.
The president will protect us.
The sheriff will protect us.
The next election will fix it.
Someone—
somewhere—
will do something.
But who was supposed to supervise all of them?
We were.
The People.
And perhaps the greatest surrender of all was that we forgot what government actually is.
Government became the parent.
The provider.
The protector.
The employer.
The educator.
The regulator.
The rescuer.
And eventually—
the authority.
But that relationship is backwards.
The People created government.
Government did not create the People.
Our own Liberty Dialogues material makes the point plainly: political authority originates with the People, while governmental authority is delegated and bounded.
So perhaps we need to stop asking only:
What did government do to us?
And finally ask:
What did we do to ourselves?
We stopped learning.
We stopped participating.
We surrendered responsibility.
We became dependent.
We allowed fear to govern us.
We defended power when our side possessed it.
We remained silent when speaking became uncomfortable.
We demanded benefits without asking what powers accompanied them.
We stopped supervising the institutions created to serve us.
And then we acted surprised when those institutions became powerful.
There is the long train.
Government accumulated power—
because the People surrendered the responsibility necessary to restrain it.
And that means something enormously important.
If the People helped create the problem—
the People can help correct it.
But not by complaining.
Not by posting memes.
Not by waiting for another president.
And certainly not by waiting for Washington to voluntarily surrender power.
We reverse the process that brought us here.
Ignorance becomes education.
Apathy becomes participation.
Dependency becomes responsibility.
Partisanship becomes principle.
Fear becomes courage.
Silence becomes questions.
And spectators become—
the People.
Learn your Constitution.
Know your county.
Know your sheriff.
Know your commissioners.
Read the legislation.
Serve on the jury.
Attend the meeting.
Ask the question.
Demand the authority.
Demand the evidence.
Demand the remedy.
And when an official refuses to respect the limits of office—
replace that official through lawful means.
This is why Constitutional County matters.
And this is why the Liberty Dialogues matter.
Because restoring limited government begins with something government cannot do for us:
We must become a People capable of governing ourselves again.
Perhaps we did not lose our birthright because government was extraordinarily powerful.
Perhaps government became extraordinarily powerful because we forgot our birthright—and abandoned the responsibilities that came with it.
So don’t merely blame Washington.
Look in the mirror.
Then do something about it.
The restoration of limited government begins with the restoration of the People.
And as always—
May truth reign supreme.
