Ivey is vice president of legislative affairs and national security for Freedom Technologies, Inc. and a Navy veteran. Nicholson is a government consultant, adjunct professor at Georgetown University Law Center and an Army veteran.
Vice President Harris has been widely criticized for her assessment that “our democracy” presented one of the biggest threats to national security. Perhaps the vice president was more correct than the critics are giving her credit for, but the threat she identified (state laws with the proffered goal of ballot integrity) does nothing to address another insidious harm to democracy demonstrated over the last 20 years.
This past Sept. 11 marked the 20th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on U.S. soil that resulted in almost 3,000 deaths and injuries to several thousand more. Our response to those attacks ushered in the longest uninterrupted period of combat operations in the nation’s history. Yet, although the 9/11 attacks affronted all Americans, only a small percentage of them have sought military service since that tragic day. But beyond the aggressive exercise of presidential war powers across at least four administrations and decades of congressional acquiescence, the people of the United States must also bear some responsibility for their inaction.
The impact of extended deployments and combat operations on military personnel and their families is well documented. Indeed, the current and previous administrations have taken several important steps to support military veterans and their families. Those measures, however, neither absolve the American public from its obligation to participate in a discourse on the appropriate use of military force, nor do they address the increasing attenuation between the American people and the wars fought on their behalf.
In a Nov. 10, 2021, Wall Street Journal opinion piece, H.R. McMaster asked: “If civilian leaders send troops into battle without a commitment to victory, who will sign up to serve? ” Indeed, those who served in support of Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere have wrestled with mixed feelings of anger, sadness and futility over the botched withdrawal and subsequent humanitarian crisis. And while an increasingly small percentage of our nation has served in the military, most Americans, regardless of political beliefs or social status, can agree that the haunting images of Afghans desperately clinging to the landing gear of U.S. military aircraft do not reflect our national aspirations.
But McMaster assigns fault too narrowly for our failed military interventions overseas. Much has been written about what went wrong in Afghanistan, Iraq, Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere. Even more has been written about which American president and who in Congress should bear the blame. But accountability goes beyond Presidents Bush, Obama, Trump and Biden or Congress. And if a democratically elected president and Congress are to blame, then we, the people, must share this burden. Democracy not only confers rights, but requires responsibilities. Our national values demand this.
Reflecting on the anniversary of 9/11 and faced with significant national and international challenges, we are presented with an opportunity to rediscover our values and perhaps bridge our divisiveness by making a principled examination of compulsory national service, whether in uniform or in other capacities.
Although compulsory military service (“the draft”) may connect the American public to our war efforts most demonstrably, military leaders historically have resisted the draft as the best means of filling the ranks of a professional force. But compulsory national service differs from a military draft in significant ways. Americans could fulfill service obligations in a range of organizations — in federal, state or local government, with an NGO, or even a public-private partnership — doing something they want to do. Further, much of the unfairness associated with the draft is nullified by compulsory national service because everyone would have to serve.
American public attitudes towards national service are changing. A 2017 Gallup poll revealed nearly half of Americans are in favor of a year of national service — the highest level of public support for universal service in almost two decades. Similarly, a 2021 Voices for National Service poll found 71 percent of young adults (aged 18-24) would consider or have already signed up for AmeriCorps. Beyond the heroics and horrors of war described in Tom Brokaw’s “The Greatest Generation,” a common thread among the Americans profiled in this book was a desire to return home, assimilate into a community, and continue to serve in some meaningful way. Although the rising generation of Americans may not go to war, their sentiments reflect the American desire to serve and be a part of a community.
While the vast majority of Americans may choose not to join the military, opportunity for service abounds. Nationally mandated service with options beyond the armed services would allow a rising generation of Americans to make a difference, develop skills and connect with fellow Americans by supporting a variety of initiatives, whether it be Covid-19 response, teaching in underserved communities, rebuilding the nation’s infrastructure, serving in the Peace Corps, or a number of other worthy endeavors. Perhaps President Biden’s legislative agenda may gain more support by tying certain benefits to a service requirement (such as student loan forgiveness).
With significant global threats emanating from numerous vectors, the next 20 years are poised to bring about a global reckoning. If the United States wishes to remain a world leader — both economically and morally — we have to return to our common values at home. National service could have a unifying effect that our nation needs. We must learn from our mistakes, reconnect with each other, recognize that our similarities exceed our differences, and emerge a version of America that is better equipped to face the challenges before us. We need to return to our values; universal service provides a path to do this.



















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.