Sarat is a professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.
Covid-19 has put federalism in the headlines and scrambled the usual alignment of forces favoring either federal or state governments as the dominant power.
Whether it is the different decisions by governors about when to ease coronavirus restrictions, or Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell's assertion that states going bankrupt is preferable to a congressional "blue state bailout," arguments about the proper balancing of federal and state powers and responsibilities have become a regular part of our pandemic politics.
Democrats and liberals, and those who champion equality and inclusion, have generally opposed states' rights at least since the New Deal. They have looked to the national government to promote policies that support disadvantaged people and minority groups. But, as the coronavirus crisis has progressed, and the national government's response to it has become more vigorous, the left has started singing a different tune.
States' rights sentiment is now enthusiastically embraced by Democrats such as Gov. Gavin Newsom of California, who last month referred to his home as a "nation-state" that might "export" needed medical supplies to other states.
This enthusiasm was displayed in reactions to Attorney General William Barr's threat to sue any states that keep people under what he termed "house arrest," and in the dustup over President Trump's declaration that he has the "ultimate authority" to decide when and how to reopen states. He told reporters assembled for one press briefing last month that "when somebody is the president of the United States, the authority is total and that's the way it's got to be. ... It's total. The governors know that."
Trump's assertion of executive authority represented an astonishing change of course. Both before and after he boasted about his power, the president had argued that management of the crisis was the governors' problem.
Resistance came swiftly to Trump's claim of embodying total federal control. The third-ranking member of the House Republcian leadership, Liz Cheney of Wyoming, rallied to the defense of federalism, bluntly tweeting back that the federal government "does not have absolute power."
Gov. Andrew Curomo of New York said, "I don't know what the president is talking about, frankly … we don't have a king." The Democrat warned of a "constitutional crisis" if the president ordered state officials to reopen their economies. Cuomo said he would openly "oppose" such an order.
The president initially compared Cuomo's defiance to a "mutiny" before tempering his remarks and changing his position as criticism mounted.
The mutiny to which Trump refers has roots in the early 19th century, when southerners waved the banner of states' rights to protect slavery.
One of the most important early proponents was John C. Calhoun, who as vice president under Andrew Jackson argued that states had the right to "nullify" and disregard whatever federal laws they regarded as unconstitutional. That view later fueled the secessions across the South.
States' rights, and the bold assertion of state prerogative against the federal government, were tainted by the legacy of slavery and the Civil War — a legacy that helps account for continued liberal resistance to those ideas.
That resistance was cemented in the aftermath of the Supreme Court's Brown v. Board of Education decision of 1954. Two years later, the "Southern Manifesto" called on states to mount a campaign of "massive resistance" to desegregation of schools.
Gov. Orval Faubus of Arkansas and Gov. George Wallace of Alabama literally stood in schoolhouse doors to do more than just prevent black students from attending previously all-white schools. They wanted to make clear their opposition to what they saw as the heavy-handedness of the federal government's effort to promote civil rights.
More recently, state sovereignty has been associated with opposition to gay marriage. While some states led the way in promoting marriage equality, leaders across the South claimed the Supreme Court's 2015 decision that same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry violated the Constitution's protection of religious liberty — so state and local officials were not bound by that ruling.
There is, however, a lesser known history of states asserting themselves to promote democracy and equality. For example, Massachusetts abolished slavery in 1783. And in 1889, three decades before the adoption of the 19th Amendment, Wyoming became the first state to put women's suffrage into its state constitution.
The early 20th century saw states lead the way in protecting workers from the ravages of unfettered capitalism, sometimes in spite of or in opposition to national policies. Reflecting on these initiatives in 1932, Justice Louis Brandeis called states "laboratories of democracy."
And in 1977, in the twilight of two decades of liberal activism on the high court, Justice William J. Brennan Jr. penned a Harvard Law Review article calling on state supreme courts to ignore those U.S. Supreme Court decisions they found unconvincing and strike out on their own to protect civil liberties and civil rights.
Liberals also embraced states' rights when Republican presidents including Richard Nixon and George W. Bush occupied the White House. And, with the election of Donald Trump, they again warmed to that idea. Some even suggested that states should secede, what they call "bluexit."
And, when not dreaming of secession, liberals praised states for going their own way on environmental issues and asserting their prerogative to create sanctuaries for people illegally in the country.
During the current national public health emergency, they are looking again to states for leadership. Fueled in part by liberal support, the country has entered a new era for federalism in which the exercise of state prerogative will not wither when life returns to normal.
But as they continue to lead the nation's coronavirus response, governors and their liberal allies should make clear they are not advocating a wholesale return to states' rights. They should instead reiterate their commitment to a democratic and inclusive society — and to a government committed to rationality, the rule of law and respect for human dignity at the local, state and federal level.




















Children watch a July Fourth Parade along the Walkway of Heroes and Independence Avenue on July 04, 2026 in Tappan, New York.
The Great American Grumpfest
Our nation’s 250th birthday party didn’t feel especially patriotic and wasn’t as much fun as the 200th anniversary was.
President Trump, who did his best to co-opt our holiday for his personal aggrandizement, was a major reason. The party he threw in Washington, D.C., was crankier than uplifting, and less about celebrating our shared past and a promising future than about reminding us how far we have strayed from our founders’ plan to create a republic that future Americans would keep in good working order.
Credit Trump this much. He has a singular gift for picking at scabs that other politicians would rather ignore and pushing us into reckonings we don’t need.
The thing is, Americans have seen all this before. Sometimes the makeover we were encouraged to undertake was more conservative, sometimes more liberal. Whatever direction we were pushing, however, the reckoning we had in mind this time had to be more forthright and the conclusion more definitive than it was the last time.
Our current discontents, the ones behind the reckoning President Trump has been trying to inspire, are not trivial. Included among them are immigration, birthright citizenship, exploding healthcare costs, election rigging, a gag-inducing national debt, how we educate our children, too many genders, racial differences we can’t move past, a lopsided economy that favors more well-off Americans, and historic levels of political corruption and graft. Add to these the several foreign adventures he has pushed us into or is anxious to undertake, and you have the makings of a national headache the likes of which we haven’t had in half a century.
All the elbow-throwing and overheated rhetoric we’re using today have begun to look almost normal in all the ways that bickering neighbors and feuding family members appear normal. But they have also made us look mean-spirited and have portrayed our differences as irreconcilable. To ourselves, of course, but also to many people outside the United States who might be forgiven for turning their heads and not looking at the national car wreck we Americans show no interest in avoiding.
The good news, as I suggested above, is that Americans have had a great deal of practice dealing with challenges and national car wrecks like these.
This essay begins to lay out the reasons why.
By way of illustration, we have our seemingly insatiable demand for more bad news about race in America.
Sixty years after being released from the legal constrictions that bedeviled both white and black Americans, many white people have come to believe the color that used to make them unassailable is now a sign of a moral inferiority born of a racial animus they can never wash off. Many black people, on the other hand, are insisting that America is as hopelessly stacked against them as the formerly unassailable white people’s ancestors used to tell their black ones.
The result is that many people today are buying into racist nightmares and mumbo jumbo that their black and white ancestors worked hard and effectively to put in each other’s heads.
This might be dismissed as crazy behavior if it weren’t so important to rituals Americans have long used to express their deepest fears about each other while figuring out what move they can make that won’t end with their world crashing down on everybody’s head.
Unfortunately, the kind of cultural sleight of hand we have used to ramp up our racial differences has been appropriated by people who have many other cultural fears and unresolved differences with each other. Their clumsy but culturally prescribed missteps are making all these other issues look as irremediable as our racial problems.
A good place to start an answer to how we back away from ledges is Alexis de Tocqueville’s writing on early-19th-century American democracy. He had an optimistic take on Americans’ unscripted displays of public bravado, recrimination, and payback.
For him, these were occasions when people tried to mitigate the effects of the unfair hand they were dealing someone else or had themselves been dealt by behaving in ways quite at odds with how they would otherwise be expected to act. These inversions of what Tocqueville called “the natural order of conscience” presented themselves as a loud but culturally muted challenge to the hypocrisies that people had built into the world they’d made together.
One of his favorite illustrations of early-American hypocrisy involved slave masters sleeping with their less-than-worthy slaves. To the best of my knowledge, he didn’t pick up on all the ways that slaves messed with their owners. Their well-chronicled and quiet resistance showed that even severely ill-treated people can exercise more control over their lives than outsiders appreciate.
Be that as it may, such inversions of a people’s “natural order of conscience” make a good public show of them wrestling with demons they can’t or may not want to shake off, but in any case, are nowhere close to figuring out how to cast out.
Implicit in these disruptions was the discomforting idea that people might flip the entire script and turn the world on its head in more permanent ways. That kind of flipping worked out better for us in our revolution against England than in our Civil War. These events taught us the value of stepping back from historically unprecedented ledges.
Americans of late have been giving loud expression to a long list of things they don’t like about each other and the last makeover they started but didn’t finish a half-century ago. The outcome of our fights today will be as revealing as they are embarrassing to everyone who imagined they could recast our country in a way that privileged their favorite kind of Americans.
Their disappointment with the accommodations they strike will be palpable, but the middling results they achieve with all their pushing and shoving won’t be anything they can’t live with.
Anthropologists who have written about such moments in other cultures less “advanced” than our own show that people find ways to work around their seemingly irreconcilable differences without ever fully resolving them. Indeed, the patches and repairs people make have the unheralded effect of reinforcing rather than undermining the legitimacy of the practices and values they thought were fundamentally flawed.
For example…
White guilt and black pessimism do more good than putting cash into the pockets of professional shamers and handwringers. They give the rest of us who don’t feel guilty or powerless more time to make the world less racially unequal. Good news.
Regarding illegal immigration, the entrance requirements for future immigrants will remain stringent. Americans will applaud the continued detention and deportation of the few illegal immigrants who commit serious crimes. Good news.
All the people who came to the United States without being legally vetted and were locked up for a time will be released in numbers small enough to avoid serious media attention. Along with the several million other good people who snuck in but avoided capture, the former detainees will go to school, find gainful employment, pay their taxes, and stay out of trouble. Many will eventually become citizens. Good news.
Investigations into election tampering and Donald Trump’s 2020 presidential loss will come to an unceremonious conclusion the day after his second term ends. Many Americans will grumble about this, but there will also be some quiet partying, too. Good and bad news.
Congressional hearings into all the grifting accomplished by people tied to the Trump administration will end without anyone having to pay a dime back to the American taxpayers. Bad news, we’ll learn to live with.
New laws and regulations will be created in the hope that the kind of corruption practiced by President Trump will not be repeated for another 250 years. Good news, I hope we’ll live long enough to enjoy.
Show trials for people who allegedly vandalized the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, if they happen, will get big television viewer ratings. Good news.
Trials for pardoned Capitol insurrectionists who committed serious crimes after their release should get more attention, but won’t. Bad news.
We will continue to hear nothing from most of the people who were pardoned for crimes they committed in the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6, 2021. They will keep their mouths shut and their heads down for the rest of their life. Good news.
The gold-gilded ornaments that Donald Trump had plastered all over the White House will be shipped to Mar-a-Lago, where the former president will sell them on eBay. Fun news.
American taxpayers end up paying for most of the new East Wing, the removal of the miniature gladiatorial arena that was built behind the White House, and the restoration of the White House rose garden. Bad news.
The Triumphal Arch was never built. Good news.
Trad wives and gay couples raise perfectly lovely children. Good but unsurprising news.
Trans men and women learn that most Americans can’t figure out who they used to be. No one gives a second thought to their use of “family bathrooms” or “unisex bathrooms” in public settings, businesses, and schools. Communities will sponsor athletic teams that have trans boys and girls just to show they can. Good news.
Budget deficits will be kicked down the road for someone else’s children to pay down. Bad news.
Federal agencies that had their budgets and employee ranks slashed during President Trump’s second term are getting some of the money and lost positions back. Good news.
Elite universities will buy their way out of DEI purgatory by competing for conservative scholars whose inflated salaries dwarf those of their liberal colleagues, who will think about suing their institutions for reverse discrimination but won’t be able to figure out who would pay for it or care. More fun news.
Okay. I’ve probably missed some ways that Americans will step back from the ledges they have been making noises about leaping off. But to the extent that my predictions pan out, the best and most important moral of the stories about us stepping away is this: everything we lost and took back, or had returned to us, will have happened without our government collapsing, civic traditions crumbling, or our people beating each other up.
The reason why is that the differences Americans have with each other really weren’t as irreconcilable as we made them out to be. The empty-sounding bromide that Americans have more that unites us than divides us turns out to be true, not just metaphorically but in fact.
Now that is really something to celebrate.
Daniel J. Monti (danieljmonti.com) is Professor of Sociology at Saint Louis University and the author of American Democracy and Disconsent: Liberalism and Illiberalism in Ferguson, Charlottesville, Black Lives Matter, and the Capitol Insurrection.