Civitas No. 2
On Power, and Why It Must Be Expected to Fail Its Own Restraints
To The People of the United States:
Among the most persistent errors in the theory of government is the belief that power may be rendered harmless by good intentions alone. This error is seldom embraced openly, yet it appears wherever authority is trusted more than it is constrained, and wherever discretion is excused on the assumption that it will be exercised wisely. Experience counsels otherwise.
Power is not evil in itself. Without it, no society can defend itself, administer justice, or preserve order. But power is never neutral. Once granted, it alters incentives, reshapes behavior, and invites extension beyond its original purpose. This tendency does not arise from corruption alone, nor from malice, but from the ordinary workings of human judgment under conditions of authority.
Every grant of power contains within it the seeds of expansion. Authority bestowed to meet one necessity soon discovers others; discretion exercised for one end finds justification for another. What begins as an exception becomes a precedent; what is defended as temporary becomes indispensable. In this way, power grows not by design, but by accumulation -- often without conscious intent, and almost always with plausible justification.
The Founders of the American republic understood this danger well. They spoke of ambition counteracting ambition, of interest checking interest, and of power restrained by division. They did not assume virtue; they designed for its absence. Yet even this realism had its limits. They understood the nature of power, but they could not fully account for its endurance across generations.
What they underestimated was not the tendency of power to expand, but the patience with which it would do so. They imagined a republic in which each generation would remain alert to encroachment, jealous of its rights, and willing to reassert constitutional boundaries when pressed. They did not anticipate how familiarity would dull suspicion, how complexity would obscure accountability, or how the passage of time would convert extraordinary measures into ordinary governance.
Modern government rests increasingly on assumptions the Founders rejected. It assumes that good faith can substitute for structure; that expertise can replace limits; that intention can excuse concentration. Where the Constitution once demanded explicit authorization, contemporary governance often relies on inference. Where it once required amendment, it now accepts interpretation. Where it once imposed friction, it now prizes efficiency.
This shift is not the product of a single usurpation, but of a gradual change in temperament. Power is no longer regarded as something to be watched, but as something to be managed; not as a danger to be restrained, but as a tool to be optimized. In such an environment, distrust is dismissed as cynicism, and restraint as obstruction.
This dismissal is mistaken. Distrust of power is not hostility to government, but fidelity to republican principles. It is the recognition that authority, however well-intentioned, cannot be relied upon to police itself indefinitely. A system that depends on the virtue of its administrators has already abandoned the discipline of self-government.
Constitutional realism begins with an unflattering view of human nature -- not because people are irredeemable, but because they are predictable. They respond to incentives, adapt to opportunity, and justify what benefits them. A government that ignores these tendencies does not elevate humanity; it indulges it.
To expect power to respect its own limits is to expect what history has never delivered. Limits must be enforced externally, renewed deliberately, and defended even when inconvenient. Where this work is neglected, authority does not remain static. It expands to fill the space left by inattention.
The question, then, is not whether power will grow, but whether its growth will be anticipated and restrained by design, or tolerated until it becomes irreversible. A free people does not wait for abuse to become intolerable before acting. It attends to the conditions that make abuse possible.
Distrust, properly understood, is not a rejection of authority, but a safeguard of liberty. It is the habit of asking not only whether power is used for good ends, but whether it remains accountable to lawful bounds. Where that habit is preserved, self-government remains possible. Where it fades, freedom persists only by accident.
The purpose of this paper is not to inflame suspicion, but to restore sobriety. Power must be granted; it must be used; and it must be watched. A republic that forgets any one of these truths will eventually lose the others.
Civitas Americana