In the framers’ words, the US Constitution was meant as a living document
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The debates over ratifying the United States Constitution were contentious. But critics of the document were reassured by Article 5, which outlines the mechanism for amending it. As Jill Lepore notes in “We the People: A History of the U.S. Constitution,” Federalists helped solidify support for the Constitution by acknowledging its shortcomings and emphasizing its potential for improvement. “Ratify now, amend later, became their watchword,” Lepore writes, and indeed, the first 10 amendments – the Bill of Rights – were proposed not long after the Constitution’s ratification in 1788.
Lepore’s sweeping, urgent history – which begins in the Revolutionary era and concludes in our current moment – focuses on amendment as a tool to realize the Constitution’s promise. But given that the Constitution hasn’t been meaningfully amended since 1971, the book also issues a warning: that political violence and authoritarianism are more likely when our founding charter is unable to evolve with the times.
The Constitution will not be amended anytime soon. As Lepore points out, due in large part to partisan gridlock and political polarization, getting an amendment passed by two-thirds of Congress and ratified by three-quarters of the states is virtually impossible now.
Why We Wrote This
The Founding Fathers expected the U.S. Constitution to be amended. In letters, they wrote that it would have to adapt to survive. Yet the document hasn’t been meaningfully updated in decades. An author looks at how supporters of expanded rights have shifted their fight to the courts, and what that means for the durability of those rights.
In recent decades, instead of pursuing amendments, Americans have pursued change through the courts. A majority of the current Supreme Court’s justices are originalists: They believe that the text of the Constitution should be interpreted according to its original, historical meaning. The approach began to hold currency in the 1970s and ’80s, and Lepore, a Harvard historian and New Yorker staff writer, is sharply critical of its implications.
One of the central ironies of “We the People” is that while originalism is now the dominant philosophy on the court, the Constitution’s framers strongly believed that their creation would have to adapt in order to survive. Lepore quotes Thomas Jefferson, who, in a 1789 letter to James Madison, argued that “no society can make a perpetual constitution” because “the earth belongs always to the living generation.” (Jefferson believed that the country ought to convene a new constitutional convention every 19 years.) George Washington “placed his faith in Article V,” Lepore writes; in a 1787 letter, he stated, “I do not think we are more inspired, have more wisdom, or possess more virtue, than those who will come after us.”
Lepore highlights periods in American history when amending the Constitution was an important and accessible tool, and periods when amending faced great obstacles. She also draws attention to failed amendments throughout U.S. history, including early petitions to abolish slavery and to grant voting rights to women; these efforts demonstrate that some Americans objected to their exclusion from the charter at the very moment of its inception. (Lepore argues that these unsuccessful petitions illuminate another flaw in originalist thinking: If the Constitution in the founding era did not recognize, say, women or Black people or the poor as full citizens, she asks, “can it truly be said to bind their posterity?”)
Constitutional amendments eventually expanded Americans’ rights. For instance, the Civil War-era Reconstruction amendments – the 13th, 14th, and 15th – abolished slavery and guaranteed equal protection and voting rights regardless of race. But their ability to enact social reform turned out to be profoundly limited. With 1896’s Plessy v. Ferguson decision, which permitted segregation if accommodations were “separate but equal,” “the Supreme Court all but nullified the Fourteenth Amendment,” Lepore writes. Meanwhile, she adds, throughout the South, Jim Crow laws “effectively nullified” the 15th.
The court’s unanimous Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954 overturned Plessy, ruling that separate facilities are inherently unequal. In addition to striking down segregation, Brown also led liberals to embrace a strategic shift that was to prove consequential.
As Lepore observes, “Instead of producing constitutional amendments, the civil rights, women’s liberation, marriage equality, reproductive rights, and environmental movements produced landmark legislative gains and rights-protecting Court decisions whose importance was matched only by their reversibility.” The 2022 ruling that overturned Roe v. Wade is one recent, dramatic example of the reversibility of rights achieved through judicial decision.
Another edifying history book to recently hit shelves is not a doorstop volume like Lepore’s, but a slender posthumous collection of speeches, essays, and unpublished musings by David McCullough. (He of course produced a number of doorstop histories of his own, two of which – biographies of Harry Truman and John Adams – were awarded the Pulitzer Prize.) “History Matters” was edited by McCullough’s daughter Dorie McCullough Lawson and his longtime researcher Michael Hill.
Fans of the historian’s work will enjoy learning about his creative process. McCullough, who died in 2022, produced all of his books on the same manual typewriter, and he shares his response to the well-meaning folks who advised him that he could work much faster if he switched to a computer: “I don’t want to go faster. If anything, I should go slower.”
The book’s selections present some of the lessons McCullough says he learned during his long and distinguished career. In a piece on character in the presidency, he states that “character counts in the presidency more than any other single quality.” He describes Truman as an ordinary American who, as president, rose to the occasion and became extraordinary.
McCullough viewed himself as “a short-range pessimist and a long-range optimist.” The lesson emphasized in several pieces in the collection is that nothing in history is preordained: As he stated in a 1999 speech about George Washington at the Library of Congress, “nothing had to happen the way it happened.” It’s the kind of sentiment that can inspire people to work to create the world they wish to live in.
Could it be that Lepore considers herself to be a long-range optimist, too? While “We the People” describes a nation on the brink of constitutional crisis, the book concludes on a cautious note of hopefulness. “To amend is to mend, correct, repair, and improve,” Lepore writes. “Americans might learn again to amend, or else they could invent a new instrument to guarantee liberty, promote equality, nurture families, knit communities, thwart tyranny, and avert the destruction of a habitable earth.” Nothing, after all, is preordained.