James Madison’s Master Plan

I am approaching the final sessions of my Pilgrims andPuritans lecture series where I will contrast the theocratic vision of the Pilgrims and Puritans and their modern heirs with the democratic principles enshrined in the U.S. Constitution. That contrast requires giving attention to James Madison, the U.S. Constitution’s principal architect, and his vision of government.  So, I am going to ramble on here a bit about Madison, the Constitution, power, and moral character.

From Articles to Architecture

By the summer of 1786, just five years after the Articles of Confederation took effect, it was painfully clear that the national government created by the Articles was too weak to meet the country’s needs. Congress tried to patch the system with amendments, but gaining the unanimous consent from thirteen states required by the Articles proved impossible.

In 1787 Congress changed its approach and invited the states to send delegates to revise the Articles. Madison, convinced the Articles were beyond repair, arrived with a bold blueprint for a new government. Within weeks he had persuaded the delegates to abandon revision and an entirely new Constitution. Congress was so feeble at the time that the Convention did not even bother to inform it of the change in direction,

The underlying question before the delegates—and later the states—was this:  could they create a federal government strong enough to unify the nation and meet its challenges a still be limited enough that fundamental rights would be protected. Madison believed it was. Others disagreed.

The Bill of Rights: A Necessary Rick

As the Convention concluded, opposition to a constitution that created a powerful federal government remained fierce. George Mason, Madison’s fellow Virginian, proposed a solution: add a Bill of Rights. Madison initially resisted. He feared that listing specific rights might imply that any unlisted rights were fair game for government infringement—thus expanding federal power rather than limiting it leading to tyranny.

Structure as Safeguard

Madison argued that a Bill of Rights was unnecessary. The Constitution itself—through its architecture—would be the true guardian of liberty. Simply put, Madison believed that a well-structured governmental system was the best safeguard against corruption and tyranny.

His structural safeguards included the separation of powers and a system of checks and balances, ensuring that no single branch of government could dominate. This framework was not merely theoretical—it was a practical mechanism to prevent corruption and tyranny. Each branch would serve as a check on the others, creating a dynamic equilibrium that preserved liberty.

He also made the legislative process slow, included a difficult constitutional amendment process, and provided for the indirect election of officials, such as the president (through the electoral college) and senators (elected by state legislatures). Madison designed these mechanisms to temper popular passions and encourage deliberation. Madison feared that direct democracy could lead to mob rule or the rise of demagogues. By inserting layers of representation and procedure, he hoped to cultivate a more thoughtful and stable government.

The Role of Character in Governance

Madison was a master political engineer who passionately believed that a well-designed government, anchored in the separation of powers and a system of checks and balances, would prevent a slide into tyranny. He also understood that no democratic system would survive without virtuous leaders and frequently addressed the need for good character in government officials, emphasizing wisdom, virtue, integrity, and competence as essential traits for a good political leadership.

Madison believed that a system of enumerated powers and structural safeguards like the separation of powers and checks and balances would support the rise of public servants of good character, mitigate the impact of human flaws, and prevent the abuse of power, corruption, and the violation of fundamental rights.  Structure would check ambition.

Was Madison Right?

Madison placed his faith in a system of enumerated powers, structural safeguards, and the moral compass of public servants. Over the past two centuries, that faith has been tested—sometimes severely. We might ask: Was Madison’s confidence in constitutional design justified? Or did he underestimate the fragility of virtue and the resilience of ambition? Madison’s vision certainly invites us to reflect not only on the limits of power, but on the enduring challenge of cultivating character in those who wield it.

"Hi-Yo, Silver, Away!" - Philosophy with a Mask and a Silver Bullet

 Have you seen The Lone Ranger with Armie Hammer and Johnny Depp? I saw it when it first came out in 2013 and just watched it again—despite remembering it as not being a particularly good movie. Hammer and Depp are enjoyable, but their talents could not overcome the lackluster script or the over-the-top barrage of stunts and explosions.

So, why did I watch it again?

In my current lecture series, Pilgrims and Puritans: A Theocracy in New England, I am about to introduce John Locke (1632–1704), a philosopher of the Age of Enlightenment—and that is where The Lone Ranger comes in.

Pilgrims, Puritans, John Locke, and The Lone Ranger? Really? Anyone who has followed my lectures over the years knows my mantra: everything is related.

At the beginning of the film, John Reid—who becomes the Lone Ranger—is a lawyer and an
unwavering believer in the rule of law. Reid is animated by John Locke’s social contract theory. Locke envisioned society as a mutually binding contract between the people and their government: the people voluntarily surrender certain freedoms and delegate power to a governing entity, which in turn is obligated to protect the people’s rights and uphold social order.

Reid, like a missionary preaching in the wilderness, rides into the Wild West with a copy of Locke’s 1689 Two Treatises of Government tucked under his arm, quoting it chapter and verse as if it were scripture.

But Reid’s Lockean ideals collide with the chaos of the frontier. Disillusioned by the failure of the legal system to deliver justice, he trades his faith in institutional law for vigilantism, becoming the Lone Ranger. Some might interpret this shift as a rejection of Locke’s principles. I would argue otherwise.

Locke’s social contract theory holds that government derives its authority from the governed for the express purpose of protecting rights and maintaining order. When a government violates those rights—when it breaks the contract and becomes tyrannical—Locke insists the people have the right to protest, resist, and ultimately rebel against the government. Crucially, it is the people who decide that the contract has been broken, not the government.

The author of the American Declaration of Independence took Locke’s principle a step further. Jefferson interpreted the right to rebel as a duty to rebel: when a government engages in “a long train of abuses and usurpations,” it becomes the people’s “duty to throw off such Government.”

So yes, The Lone Ranger may be a flawed film—but buried beneath the spectacle is a surprisingly rich philosophical thread. John Reid’s journey from idealistic lawyer to masked vigilante is not a rejection of Locke’s social contract; it is a dramatization of it. When the institutions meant to uphold justice collapse into corruption, Locke does not call for passive endurance. He calls for action. Reid’s transformation is not lawlessness, but a Lockean reckoning: a citizen reclaiming the moral authority to resist tyranny and restore justice. In that sense, The Lone Ranger gallops straight out of Enlightenment philosophy and into the American mythos, reminding us that even in the dust and chaos of the frontier, ideas endure—and sometimes, they wear a mask.

Democracy by Default: When Silence Elects the President

After my last post, Truth, Justice and Wednesday Addams, a few friends reached out to challenge my claim that Americans are politically passive. They pointed to the abundance of protests, movements, online activism, and reports in what I call "news-as-entertainment" as evidence of high engagement.

But voter participation tells a different story. Unlike media coverage or social media trends, turnout at the polls is a more reliable measure of democratic engagement. A healthy democracy depends on citizens showing up—not just speaking out.

I dug into the 2024 election data from the U.S. Federal Election Commission and the Census Bureau. The numbers paint a sobering picture.

• Voter Registration: In 2024, 73.6% of eligible U.S. citizens were registered to vote. That means over a quarter of eligible voters weren’t even on the rolls.

• Voter Turnout: Of those registered, 65.3% actually voted. That’s 65.3% of 73.6%—which comes out to just 48.1% of all eligible citizens. Less than half of those who could vote did.

• Election Results: The current President received 49.8% of the popular vote. That’s 49.8% of the 48.1% who voted—meaning only 24.3% of eligible citizens cast a vote for the person now leading the country.

So yes, there’s noise. There’s protest. There’s passion. But when fewer than one in four citizens choose the President, it’s not just passivity—it’s a quiet surrender of democratic power.

Truth, Justice, and Wednesday Addams

Have you seen this summer’s new Superman movie?  I haven’t.  I’ve been waiting for the kids to be back in school again before heading into the movie theater.  In the meanwhile, I have enjoyed the hype and the PR around the film.  I particularly enjoyed an interview on CBS Sunday Morning (6/29/2025) that TCM’s Ben Mankiewicz did with David Corenswet who plays the Man of Steel.  Throughout the interview, I wanted to hear what Mankiewicz would do with Superman’s tagline—and at the end of the interview, Mankiewicz finally said that the Superman would “fight for Truth, Justice and … well, you know the rest.”   

DC Comics created Superman in 1938—and then coined Truth, Justice and the American Way as Superman’s tagline during World War II to build morale in America’s fight against fascism abroad and at home.  Later, Truth, Justice and the American Way became engraved on America’s cultural consciousness with Adventures of Superman, the TV series that aired from 1952 until 1958 in the early days of the Cold War.  Since I was only three years old when the series ended in 1958, my childhood memories of the show must be from when it was later syndicated to local channels.  In any event Truth, Justice and the American Way has endured through the many iterations of Superman and his compatriots since.  Well, at least until recently.

George Reeves as Superman

In 2021, DC Comics changed Superman’s tagline.  Going forward, the Man of Steel would fight for Truth, Justice and A Better Tomorrow rather than for the American Way. 

Superman’s new motto of “Truth, Justice and a Better Tomorrow” will better reflect the global storylines that we are telling across DC and to honor the character’s incredible legacy of over 80 years of building a better world.  … Superman has long been a symbol of hope who inspires people from around the world, and it is that optimism and hope that powers him forward with this new mission statement.

 Jim Lee, President, Publisher, and Chief Creative Officer of DC Comics

Superman’s New Motto Revealed at DC FanDome

October 16, 2021

Despite Lee’s positive spin on the change from the American Way to a Better Tomorrow, I wonder if the people at DC Comics were aware that the United States was moving to a place where the American Way would lose some of its cachet in the international market.  Were they aware of the irony of using a tagline with anti-fascist origins when Americans were about to go all in on our own fascist dictatorship?   

I became aware of the change to Superman’s motto earlier this year when I was exploring ideas for a new lecture series in the lifelong learning program that I occasionally teach in.  Although I eventually decided on Pilgrims and Puritans:  A Theocracy in Colonial New England, I considered a series on various philosophical approaches to truth and justice, using the Superman’s new tagline Truth, Justice and a Better Tomorrow as the title of the series.  I ran the idea by a long-time Jesuit friend, and he suggested an edit to the title:  Truth, Justice and the Hope of a Better Tomorrow.

I didn’t initially like Joe’s suggestion.  Hope has always struck me as a tremendously passive virtue in the style of Little Orphan Annie cockeyed optimism:

Oh! 

The sun'll come out

 Tomorrow 

 So ya gotta hang on 

 'Til tomorrow 

 Come what may! 

I tend to think that most of us are already passive enough without people telling us we should just hang in there, grin and bear it, and eventually everything will get better—that someday, somehow, someone will fix whatever mess we find ourselves in.       

I am not an optimist by nature.  I do not spontaneously anticipate positive outcomes.  As the gloomy Wednesday Addams tells her perky friend Enid Sinclair in the Netflix series Wednesday, I can be the dark cloud for your silver lining.  I am likely thinking that the odds are that the sun will not come out tomorrow and that we are headed to hell in a handbasket—and increasingly so as I watch the current blitzkrieg against our democratic principles, norms, and values:  the growing abuse of power, the increasing censorship, the demonization of minorities and the vulnerable, and the transfer of wealth to the ultra-rich.  No, Candide, this is not the best of all possible worlds.

Jenna Ortega as Wednesday Addams
(with Victor Dorobantu as Thing)

Wednesday Addams is my new role model.  She embraces her innate pessimism and yet is actively and courageously hopeful.  She speaks truth to power.  She defends the weak against their oppressors.  And she fights for her community against those who oppose its principles and values and would destroy it.  Wednesday fights for truth, justice, and a better tomorrow!  And that is the real essence of hope.  Not expecting things to work themselves out. Not anticipating that someone else will do something.  But believing we can do something ourselves to create some good—and then doing it.

Hope is actualized only in action.  Hope does not allow us to sit on the sidelines.   As Maria von Trapp sings in the Sound of Music, “nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could.”  And that means that courage is an essential element of hope. Fighting for truth, justice and a better tomorrow involves taking risks and persevering through doubts and difficulties.  Fighting for truth, justice and a better tomorrow requires us to act against powerful forces and with uncertain outcomes.  

Our political institutions with their system of checks and balances have become impotent against the overwhelming assault on constitutional republic.  Our hope lives in our own actions.  In resistance and dissent.  In protest.  Perhaps even in civil disobedience.  Ask yourself what you are willing to commit to hope for.  And then do it.  Wage hope!

Meeting Lady Justice in Switzerland

June was a busy month for me—and enjoyably included a 12-day trip to Switzerland with its awe-inspiring natural beauty and its exceptionally friendly and welcoming people.  I visited Switzerland once before, but that was over 45 years ago.  Therefore, this was a trip that both revived old memories and add new experiences. 

When visiting a place again after many years, however, the “new experiences” are not necessarily because the place has changed, but because you have.  If you have grown at all over that time, then you have learned.  Your knowledge and interests have expanded, and your appreciation for things has broadened.  Your way of seeing changes.  As a 25-year-old, I was impressed by Marc Chagall’s windows in Zürich’s Fraumünster; about to turn 70, my experience of the windows was less intellectual, more contemplative.

Another Swiss church that engaged me was the Swiss Reformed cathedral (or minster) in Bern.  I was captivated by the main portal which is said to be one of the most complete Late Gothic sculpture collections in Europe. This collection represents the Last Judgment when the wicked will be separated from the righteous.  Depicting the Last Judgement over the main portal of Gothic cathedrals was commonplace, intended to inspire awe and piety in the faithful as visual reminder of the ultimate judgment and its consequences.  Usually, the Last Judgment displays Jesus Christ enthroned in majesty and Michael the Archangel weighing souls, sending the righteous to their reward and the wicked to their punishment.  The west portal of Notre Dame in Paris features such a Last Judgment tympanum.   The west portal of Bourges Cathedral, another typical example, also features the Last Judgment with Michael weighing souls.

The main portal of Bern’s Minster is remarkable in part because it survived the church’s transformation from a Catholic church to a Protestant one during the Reformation when the paintings and sculptures from inside the church were all destroyed.   But the Last Judgement depiction is also remarkable for one of its atypical details.  As usual Jesus Christ is enthroned in majesty and overseeing the judgement.  Michael the Archangel is also present; however, he stands below the action and is not involved in weighing the souls.  Instead standing between the righteous and the wicked and conducting the separation is a woman holding a sword and scales.  The woman is Lady Justice—also known as Justitia.  The obvious symbolism is that justice is being served in rewarding the righteous and damning the wicked. 

But Justitia appropriating Michael’s role also suggests that justice is the delineator between righteousness and wickedness. 

A short walk from the Bern Minster is another representation of Lady Justice:  Hans Gieng's 1543
Gerechtigkeitsbrunnen—Fountain of Justice.   Atop the fountain, Justitia stands with her traditional attributes:  the sword of justice in her right hand and a balance in her left hand.  Unlike the statue on the minster, however, Gieng’s Justitia is blindfolded.  The blindfold was an innovation and thought to be the first such representation of Lady Justice.  Only later did the blindfold became commonplace. Associated with the positive ideal of impartiality, fairness, and equality before the law, the blindfold implies that true justice is done without consideration of a person’s rank, power, wealth, or social standing.

 

Associated with the ideal of impartiality, fairness, and equality before the law, the blindfold implies that true justice is done without consideration of a person's rank, power, wealth, or social standing.

In addition to his innovative blindfold, Gieng placed the heads of four power figures at Lady Justice’s feet:  a pope, an emperor, a sultan, and a Schultheiss (the head of a municipality akin to a mayor).  They represent the four forms of government according to the Renaissance humanism of the time:  theocracy (the pope), monarchy (the emperor), autocracy (the sultan) and the republic (the Schultheiss).    The four figures all have their eyes closed—generally interpreted as an act of submission to Justitia.   

In other words, justice trumps power. 

My "Pilgrims and Puritans" Lecture Series has been Scheduled

Update:  Registration is now open for Pilgrims and Puritans.   Click here to go to the OLLI registration page. 

For those of you who have expressed interest in my next online lecture series in the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) at California State University - East Bay, Pilgrims and Puritans in Colonial America, that series has now been calendared.  

The Schedule

9:30 AM to 11:30 AM (Pacific Time)

Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Tuesday, October 21, 2025

Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Tuesday, November 18, 2025

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

[Note:  No classes on 10/28, 11/11, 11/25 due to other commitments and holidays]

Click here for a brief introduction to the series.  Those who have participated in my lectures before are accustomed to hearing me say, "Everything's related" and know that I enjoy pulling connecting threads to see where they lead.  This series will be no different.  

I'll let you know when registration is open.  Hope to see you in October!

Click here to check out CSU's OLLI and its current course offerings!

    

   

A Response to my post "Swing Heil" on Dissent and Civil Disobedience

After I posted about resistance in Nazi Germany last month ["Swing Heil" - Even Dancing Can Be an Act of Courage] I received an email from a long-time acquaintance.  She said that she did not think I was really writing about resistance to Hitler, that I was actually encouraging resistance to a current regime.  [If the shoe fits.]  She went on to issue a gentile chastisement, saying that I needed to remember what St. Paul says about obeying governing authorities.  

Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended. For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also as a matter of conscience. (Romans 13:1-15)

Taken in isolation, Paul does seem to be calling for unquestioned obedience to governing authorities regardless of what those authorities do.  

These verses have been used by authorities, both religious and secular, to demand unquestioned loyalty and obedience from the first century right up to the present day.  Nazi-aligned pastors [Nazis again! Swing Heil!] used Paul to justify unquestioned obedience to Hitler.  American segregationists used Romans to oppose civil disobedience during the civil rights movement.  Some religious leaders used Romans to support the U.S. government's invasion of Iraq.  And currently some evangelicals in multiple countries are identifying certain candidates for office and officeholders as chosen by God to govern and are using Romans to deter protest, dissent, and civil disobedience.

Models of Civil Disobedience

Whether or not we are familiar with their stories, Paul would have known of the many examples of civil disobedience by Israel’s ancient heroes.

• In Exodus, the Hebrew midwives disobeyed pharaoh's order to kill all the newborn Hebrew boys.
• In Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were sent into a fiery furnace for refusing to obey King Nebuchadnezzar.  
• In Esther, Esther risked death by violating the law by approaching the king without an invitation in order to save the Jewish people.
• In 1 Kings, Obadiah, a majordomo in charge of King Ahab's palace, hid a hundred prophets in caves to protect them from Queen Jezebel who wanted to kill them. 

And the list goes on. 

Furthermore, although the earliest canonical Gospel had not yet been written in Paul’s lifetime, certainly stories about Jesus’s life circulated among believers.  Paul would have known of Jesus’s acts of civil disobedience: healing on the sabbath; eating with tax collectors, foreigners, and sinners; talking with women in public without their husbands being present; chasing the merchants and moneychangers from the temple.   Ultimately, Jesus was executed for his acts of civil disobedience. 

Would Paul have rejected all acts of resistance and civil disobedience in the face of these models of civil disobedience?  Seems unlikely. 

The Rebellious Paul

It also seems unlikely that someone whose friends had to sneak him out of Damascus by lowering him over the city wall hidden in a basket (Acts 9:23-25) because he defied the religious authorities would then turn around and insist on unquestioned obedience to those authorities.  Of course, Paul’s thinking could have evolved over the two decades between his escape from Damascus and his letter to Rome’s Christian community.  But 14 years after his escape from Damascus Paul was still getting into trouble for defying the authorities and for advocating “customs that are not lawful” (Acts 16:16–40).  And ultimately, Paul was executed in Rome for resisting the governing authorities.  

So, if Paul believed in an absolute duty of the governed to obey the governing authorities, his own behavior was not consistent with that belief.  A case of “do as I say, not as I do”?  Seems unlikely.

Unquestioned Obedience?

Unquestioned obedience to governing authorities does not gel with what we know about Paul and his own behavior - and as Detective Martin Arbogast says in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 film Psycho, “if it doesn’t gel, it isn’t aspic.”