There is a question I think Americans should be asking far more often than we do:
Are we actually living according to the constitutional principles we claim to believe in?
Not whether Republicans are protecting the Constitution.
Not whether Democrats are protecting it.
Not whether the politician we voted for is protecting it.
Are we protecting it?
Because somewhere along the way, constitutional rights became increasingly treated like political positions rather than permanent limitations on political power.
Freedom of speech becomes important when our side is being censored.
Due process becomes important when someone we sympathize with is accused.
Privacy becomes important when the government surveillance program is operated by an administration we distrust.
Executive power becomes dangerous when the other party occupies the White House.
Federalism suddenly becomes sacred when Washington is doing something we dislike.
That isn’t constitutional government.
That’s partisan convenience wearing constitutional clothing.
And if we genuinely want to understand the condition of liberty in America in 2026, I think we have to begin with an uncomfortable truth: the greatest danger to constitutional government isn’t necessarily one president, one Congress, one political party, or one Supreme Court decision.
It is the gradual normalization of government power whenever that power happens to produce an outcome we like.
The Constitution Was Written for People Who Distrusted Power
One of the biggest misunderstandings about America’s founding is that the Constitution was primarily designed to create government.
It certainly did that.
But just as importantly, it was designed to restrain government.
The Constitution established three branches—legislative, executive, and judicial—and divided authority among them through a system of separated powers and checks and balances specifically intended to prevent one part of government from becoming dominant. (National Archives)
That structure wasn’t accidental.
The generation that wrote the Constitution had just fought a revolution against a government they believed had abused centralized authority. Yet the Articles of Confederation had demonstrated the problems of a national government too weak to perform essential functions.
The Framers therefore faced an extraordinarily difficult problem.
America needed a government strong enough to govern but restrained enough that it couldn’t easily become tyrannical.
And even then, many Americans weren’t satisfied.
Anti-Federalists worried that the proposed federal government was too powerful and objected strongly to the Constitution’s lack of an explicit bill of rights. Those concerns became central to the ratification debate and helped produce the amendments James Madison shepherded through the First Congress. Ten ultimately became what we now call the Bill of Rights. (National Archives)
That history matters.
The Bill of Rights wasn’t written because Americans trusted government.
It was written because they didn’t.
And that healthy skepticism of concentrated power may be one of the founding principles America most desperately needs to rediscover.
Rights Aren’t Gifts From Government
Read the Bill of Rights carefully and you’ll notice something important about its structure.
It doesn’t read like a list of favors government generously grants its citizens.
It reads like a series of boundaries.
Government cannot establish a religion or prohibit its free exercise.
Government cannot improperly abridge speech or the press.
People have the right to assemble and petition their government.
The people possess protections against unreasonable searches and seizures.
Government must respect due process.
The Constitution recognizes protections involving criminal prosecutions, property, arms, and other liberties, while the Ninth Amendment makes clear that enumerating certain rights shouldn’t be interpreted to deny others retained by the people. The Tenth reserves powers not delegated to the United States, nor prohibited to the states, to the states or the people. (National Archives)
That’s an enormously important philosophical distinction.
The constitutional tradition begins with the person, not the state.
Government possesses delegated authority.
The people possess rights.
And when that relationship becomes reversed—when citizens begin acting as though government possesses unlimited authority unless the Constitution specifically stops it—we have fundamentally changed the relationship between citizen and state.
So, Have We Drifted?
In several important respects, yes.
That doesn’t mean America has become a dictatorship.
It doesn’t mean constitutional rights have disappeared.
It doesn’t mean every expansion of government power is unconstitutional.
And it certainly doesn’t mean every period in early American history represented some golden age of liberty. The United States was founded while slavery remained legal, women lacked equal political participation, Native Americans suffered enormous injustices, and many constitutional protections were not yet applied against state governments.
We should never romanticize history.
America’s constitutional development has included both expansion of liberty and expansion of government power.
Those things can be true simultaneously.
But there are several areas where the relationship between citizen and government deserves serious attention.
The First Amendment Has Become Far Too Partisan
Freedom of speech may be the easiest example.
The First Amendment restricts government, not private individuals or companies in ordinary circumstances. Through the Fourteenth Amendment, its protections also apply against state governments. Congress’s Constitution Annotated notes that First Amendment restrictions extend across government agencies at the local, state, and federal levels. (U.S. Constitution )
That’s an important distinction because not every instance of censorship, moderation, criticism, boycotting, or deplatforming is automatically a First Amendment violation.
But the broader principle of free expression remains fundamental to a free society.
The Supreme Court has historically treated government restrictions based on the content of protected speech with deep constitutional suspicion, although limited categories such as true threats, fraud, defamation and incitement may receive different treatment. (U.S. Constitution )
Government retaliation for protected speech can also raise constitutional problems. (U.S. Constitution )
The real test of our commitment to free expression isn’t whether we defend speech we enjoy.
It’s whether we defend the constitutional rights of people saying things we dislike.
That principle has become increasingly difficult in an era when practically every controversy is immediately sorted into partisan camps.
Yet constitutional rights cannot function that way.
If speech protections depend upon popularity, they aren’t really protections.
They’re privileges.
Privacy Has Entered an Entirely Different World
The Fourth Amendment protects people against unreasonable searches and seizures and establishes requirements surrounding warrants and probable cause. (National Archives)
But think about the world in which that language was written.
There were no smartphones.
No GPS tracking.
No facial-recognition networks.
No massive databases capable of storing years of information.
No internet search histories.
No social-media profiles documenting people’s movements, friendships, beliefs, purchases and interests.
No automated license-plate readers capable of recording vehicles moving through communities and creating searchable databases.
Technology has dramatically expanded the government’s potential surveillance capacity.
The constitutional question therefore isn’t whether James Madison knew what a smartphone was.
Obviously, he didn’t.
The question is whether the principle behind the Fourth Amendment survives technological change.
It has to.
Otherwise every technological advancement becomes a loophole through which constitutional protections gradually disappear.
The Founders couldn’t anticipate the technology of 2026.
But they understood power.
And they understood the danger of allowing government to search through people’s private lives without meaningful limitations.
That principle is arguably more important in the digital age, not less.
Due Process Isn’t Supposed to Depend on Whether We Like the Accused
The Fifth Amendment prevents the federal government from depriving a person of life, liberty or property without due process of law. The Fourteenth Amendment imposes due-process requirements on states as well. (U.S. Constitution )
Notice the language.
It doesn’t say popular people.
It doesn’t say good people.
It doesn’t say people whose politics we share.
It says person.
That’s the point.
Due process matters most when it is inconvenient.
A constitutional system assumes that government must follow procedures before taking someone’s liberty or property precisely because government can make mistakes—and because officials possess incentives, biases and institutional interests like every other human being.
Civil asset forfeiture illustrates how difficult these questions can become. Such laws can permit government to seize property alleged to be connected to criminal activity through civil proceedings involving the property itself. The Supreme Court has continued confronting due-process questions involving those procedures. (U.S. Constitution )
People can reasonably debate how forfeiture laws should operate.
But the constitutional principle should remain straightforward:
Government shouldn’t be able to permanently deprive people of property merely because doing so is administratively convenient.
Liberty requires process.
The Second Amendment Cannot Be Treated as a Constitutional Asterisk
The Second Amendment is another area where constitutional consistency matters.
Whatever someone’s personal opinion about firearms, the amendment exists.
Modern Supreme Court doctrine recognizes an individual right to keep and bear arms, while also recognizing that the right isn’t unlimited. Recent jurisprudence—from Heller through Bruen and Rahimi—has continued defining how governments may regulate firearms consistent with the Constitution. Congress’s Constitution Annotated tracks that developing doctrine explicitly. (U.S. Constitution )
People can argue vigorously over where constitutional boundaries should fall.
That’s legitimate democratic debate.
But constitutional analysis cannot begin with, “I dislike this right, therefore it matters less.”
The same principle applies to every amendment.
Rights we personally exercise aren’t more constitutional than rights exercised by somebody else.
We Have Also Normalized Enormous Executive Power
One of the most consequential changes in American government isn’t tied exclusively to either political party.
It is the modern expectation that presidents should personally solve almost every major national problem.
Congress doesn’t act?
Do something.
An emergency occurs?
Do something.
The opposing party blocks legislation?
Find another mechanism.
The public is frustrated?
Issue an executive order.
And then control of the White House changes hands.
Suddenly, the people who applauded aggressive executive action discover separation of powers.
Meanwhile, the people who spent four years warning about presidential authority begin discovering creative new interpretations of executive power.
The names change.
The incentives don’t.
That’s precisely why constitutional restraints cannot depend upon personalities.
If a power would terrify you in the hands of your political opponent, you should think carefully before celebrating it in the hands of your political ally.
The Constitution’s structure of separate legislative, executive and judicial powers was designed specifically to prevent any one branch from becoming dominant. (National Archives)
Congress is supposed to legislate.
Presidents execute the laws.
Courts resolve cases and interpret law.
That system is intentionally frustrating.
Efficiency was never the only objective.
Limiting power was part of the design.
Federalism Has Become Another Fair-Weather Principle
The Tenth Amendment is remarkably short, but its principle is profound: powers not delegated to the federal government by the Constitution, nor prohibited to the states, are reserved to the states or the people. (National Archives)
Yet modern American politics increasingly treats Washington as the first destination for practically every social, economic and political disagreement.
We have nearly 340 million people spread across 50 states, thousands of counties and an extraordinary variety of communities.
Not every question requires a single national answer.
Federalism allows government to operate closer to the people affected by it.
It permits experimentation.
It allows communities to solve problems differently.
And perhaps most importantly, decentralization makes it harder for any single institution to accumulate overwhelming political power.
That doesn’t mean states should be free to violate constitutional rights. They aren’t.
It means we should remember that the federal government was never intended to become America’s national city council.
Americans Know Something Isn’t Working
Public confidence tells its own story.
Pew Research Center reported in late 2025 that only 17% of Americans said they trusted the federal government to do what is right always or most of the time. In 1958, that figure was 73%. Trust has fluctuated considerably across decades, administrations and major national events, but it has remained below 30% since 2007. (Pew Research Center)
Another Pew survey published in April 2026 found that 69% of Americans were dissatisfied with how democracy was functioning in the United States. Sixty-eight percent said America had once been a good democratic example for other countries but hadn’t been in recent years. (Pew Research Center)
Meanwhile, concerns about specific constitutional freedoms cross political lines.
In 2025, Pew found that seven in ten Americans were at least somewhat concerned about potential restrictions on press freedom. (Pew Research Center)
These numbers don’t prove that a particular constitutional violation occurred.
But they tell us something important.
Americans across the political spectrum increasingly believe something about our governing system isn’t functioning as it should.
The Problem Isn’t That We Disagree
Here’s where I think the conversation gets especially important.
The Founders never designed a country where everyone agreed.
Quite the opposite.
The Constitution was created by people with enormous disagreements.
Federalists and Anti-Federalists fought bitterly over centralized power, representation, taxation, executive authority and individual liberty.
The Constitution itself emerged from compromise among competing interests. Even many people who supported ratification believed the document needed immediate amendments. (National Archives)
Disagreement isn’t evidence that America is failing.
Disagreement is expected.
The danger comes when winning becomes more important than maintaining the rules that allow people to disagree peacefully.
That’s when constitutional government begins deteriorating.
When we start believing the president should have extraordinary power because our president is different.
When censorship sounds acceptable because those people are dangerous.
When surveillance becomes acceptable because law-abiding people have nothing to hide.
When due process becomes inconvenient because everyone knows that person is guilty.
When government spending becomes acceptable because our priorities are important.
When federal authority becomes acceptable because our policy is morally correct.
Those rationalizations have something in common.
They assume good intentions make government power safe.
History gives us very little reason to believe that.
So How Do We Get Back on Track?
The answer isn’t another political savior.
It isn’t finding the perfect president.
And it isn’t electing enough people wearing one particular party label.
The answer is much less exciting.
We rebuild a constitutional culture.
That starts by applying principles consistently.
Defend free speech when the speaker makes you uncomfortable.
Defend due process when the accused person makes you angry.
Defend religious liberty for faiths other than your own.
Defend privacy even when surveillance might make law enforcement’s job easier.
Respect the separation of powers when it prevents your preferred president from getting something done.
Respect federalism when another state chooses policies differently than yours.
Demand fiscal accountability even when the spending benefits something you personally support.
And defend constitutional rights before asking what political team benefits from them.
That’s difficult.
But liberty has never been the easiest form of government.
Congress Needs to Become Congress Again
A healthier constitutional system also requires Congress to reclaim its responsibilities.
Major questions should be debated publicly.
Legislators should vote.
Members should defend those votes to their constituents.
Presidents shouldn’t become substitute legislatures simply because Congress is dysfunctional.
The legislative process is slow for a reason.
Passing laws should require persuasion, coalition-building and compromise.
Gridlock can certainly become excessive.
But the solution to legislative dysfunction cannot simply be transferring more authority to the executive branch.
Because eventually someone you profoundly distrust will inherit that authority.
That’s the recurring lesson of constitutional government:
Never judge government power solely by the person currently exercising it.
Judge it by what the worst future officeholder could do with it.
We Need Constitutional Literacy Again
There is another piece of this that receives far too little attention.
Americans need to understand their Constitution.
Not memes about it.
Not partisan interpretations of it.
Not whatever a favorite television host, influencer or politician says it means.
Read it.
Read the Declaration.
Read the Bill of Rights.
Read the Federalist and Anti-Federalist arguments.
Read major Supreme Court opinions.
Understand federalism.
Understand enumerated powers.
Understand incorporation.
Understand due process.
Understand why separation of powers exists.
The National Archives describes the Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights collectively as the Charters of Freedom because of their foundational role in establishing American government and protecting individual rights. (National Archives)
Those documents shouldn’t be museum pieces.
They’re operating instructions for a republic.
Liberty Also Requires Responsibility
There is one final piece that government cannot manufacture.
A constitutional republic requires citizens capable of governing themselves.
Freedom isn’t simply doing whatever we want.
Liberty comes with responsibility—to our families, our neighbors, our communities and future generations.
Government cannot replace those relationships.
Washington cannot manufacture strong families.
Congress cannot legislate neighborliness.
An executive order cannot create community.
A federal agency cannot produce virtue.
Healthy societies are built from the bottom up: families, churches and other faith communities, neighborhoods, civic associations, charities, businesses, voluntary organizations and local institutions.
When those foundations weaken, we increasingly look upward for government to solve problems that once would have been addressed much closer to home.
And every problem transferred upward creates another justification for centralized authority.
Restoring constitutional government therefore isn’t only about limiting Washington.
It’s about rebuilding the institutions between the individual and the state.
The Constitution Isn’t Self-Enforcing
Maybe that’s the most important lesson.
The Constitution is parchment.
It cannot physically stop a president.
It cannot force Congress to exercise courage.
It cannot make judges wise.
It cannot make citizens principled.
The American constitutional system survives because institutions, officials and citizens agree to respect boundaries even when violating those boundaries might produce an immediate political advantage.
That requires restraint.
And restraint may be one of the least celebrated virtues in modern politics.
We reward politicians who promise to fight.
We reward politicians who promise action.
We reward politicians who promise to crush the opposition.
Maybe we should start rewarding leaders willing to say something much less exciting:
That’s beyond my constitutional authority.
Imagine how revolutionary those words would sound today.
The Constitution Doesn’t Belong to a Political Party
America is approaching this question at an interesting moment.
The country recently marked 250 years since the Declaration of Independence, while Americans continue debating substantial changes to the political system. Pew found in 2026 that majorities supported several structural reforms that could require constitutional amendments. (Pew Research Center)
Those debates are legitimate.
The Constitution itself provides an amendment process.
The Founders never claimed their work could never be changed.
But there is an enormous difference between changing the Constitution through constitutional means and simply ignoring constitutional limitations whenever they become inconvenient.
That distinction matters.
Because the Constitution doesn’t belong to Republicans.
It doesn’t belong to Democrats.
It doesn’t belong to conservatives.
It doesn’t belong to progressives.
It doesn’t belong to libertarians.
It belongs to the American people.
And constitutional rights don’t become more or less important depending upon who controls Congress or occupies the White House.
That may be the standard we most urgently need to recover.
Before supporting government power, ask whether you’d support the same authority in the hands of your political opponent.
Before celebrating restrictions on someone else’s liberty, ask whether you’d accept those restrictions being imposed on you.
Before demanding Washington solve another problem, ask whether the Constitution actually gives Washington responsibility for solving it.
Before dismissing someone’s constitutional rights because you dislike that person, remember why those rights exist in the first place.
The Founders weren’t trying to design a government populated exclusively by good people.
They were designing a system that could survive flawed people.
Including us.
That is why power was divided.
That is why government authority was limited.
That is why rights were protected.
And that is why restoring constitutional government will require something much deeper than winning the next election.
It requires rebuilding a culture where liberty matters more than political convenience, where principle survives changes in party control, where government once again remembers that its authority has boundaries, and where citizens understand that freedom carries responsibilities alongside rights.
The Constitution isn’t obsolete.
The principles behind it aren’t outdated.
If anything, a country with enormous federal institutions, instantaneous communications, powerful surveillance technologies and bitter political polarization needs those principles more than ever.
The question isn’t whether the Constitution can still work in modern America.
The question is whether Americans are still willing to do the much harder thing:
Apply it consistently—even when doing so prevents us from getting what we want.
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