James Madison tried to warn us. He foresaw a grave danger to our fragile republic. No, it wasn’t an overreaching, dictatorial President. It was the people’s representatives themselves who might shred the untested constitutional fabric of the nascent United States.
Members of Congress could destroy it by neglecting the good of the country in favor of narrow, self-serving ends. Unity would collapse into endless internecine strife. Madison sounded this alarm in Federalist No. 10: he foresaw the inevitable emergence of “factions”—political parties “united and actuated by some common impulse of passion, or of interest, adverse to the rights of other citizens, or to the permanent and aggregate interests of the community.”
This invidious but inevitable human inclination could only be held in check if elected representatives could transcend their parochial outlook by interacting with delegates from other states and regions, with other points of view. By doing so, they would become broadly knowledgeable about vital national issues such as interstate commerce, taxes, and defense, and then enact laws that would benefit the country as a whole. If this expanding of the political horizon did not occur, Congress would either grind to a halt in hopeless deadlock or—worse—one party would exercise monopoly power over minorities.
The checks on congressional power embedded in the Constitution have so far prevented one of Madison’s fears from materializing: we see one such guardrail working—albeit messily—in the current impasse over federal expenditures. But a debilitating divisiveness has not been prevented. Today, Democrats and Republicans spend most of their time demonizing and blaming one another, stubbornly refusing to compromise. Most of the reasons for this are well understood—Citizens United, the loosening of restrictions on political contributions, the necessity of raising enormous amounts of money for campaigns, and the concomitant need to cater to well-to-do ideologues for contributions. But there is another, less apparent development that has dissuaded members of Congress from working together. This form of factionalism has infected Washington and isolated it. It has led lawmakers to think less and less about the People and focus more on the voters who elected them.
This represents a subtle but dramatic change from the ideal of national service. (The Constitution is vague about the duties and obligations of Congress, making this devolution possible.) It is evident, for example, in how Washington lawmakers see themselves differently. Whereas they once referred to their home states and districts as where they came from, they now affirm on their websites that this is whom they work for. If you visit the Capitol with a pass to your own representative or senator’s office, you won’t be welcomed in any others: they only serve their constituents. Perhaps most regrettably, Congress members no longer accept inquiries, suggestions, or criticism from persons residing out of state or out of district. (Campaign checks are welcomed, however.)
Half a century ago, you could write to Ted Kennedy, William Fulbright, Birch Bayh, and other Senate luminaries and not only would your letter be read, but you’d also receive a signed response addressing the issue you had raised. (I still treasure them, like papyrus scrolls.) In effect, your Congress is not the 435 members of the House and 50 members of the Senate: it has been reduced to just three lawmakers—two senators and a single House representative. In other words, your ability to potentially have influence on legislation has shrunk by over 99 percent. Constituents are fooling themselves if they think their representatives will personally read what they have written: the daily flood of emails and letters makes that impossible.
As their connections to the American people have been drastically reduced, members of Congress have increasingly focused on pleasing the people (voters) back home. Most of the tasks performed in their offices involve “casework”—fielding requests for tours and for flags flown over the Capitol, helping obtain government benefits, and providing guidance in applying for the service academies. Lawmakers also endear themselves by “bringing home the bacon”—obtaining federal funds for local organizations and projects, showing how they can “deliver.” But this assistance has nothing to do with passing laws. Even constituents can feel left out of that process as senators and representatives depend heavily on advice from lobbyists and contributions from special-interest groups and large donors to determine their votes. In this money-saturated climate, the “public interest” becomes difficult to discern, let alone honor. And it is no wonder that most ordinary Americans feel left out. Or that they become apathetic and disengage from politics.
But, for members of Congress, this new relationship has worked well. Making themselves popular by doing favors sets them apart from their colleagues in an increasingly unpopular branch of government. And serving constituent needs instead of the general good has been a winning strategy for legislators. In the 2024 election, for example, 96.6 percent of sitting representatives were returned to office. As one watchdog organization has sardonically put it, “Few things in life are more predictable than the chances of an incumbent member of the U.S. House of Representatives winning reelection.”
What, if anything, can be done to close this breach between lawmakers and the people? Given the makeup of the Supreme Court for the foreseeable future, there seems little likelihood of its overturning rulings allowing big money to have such an inordinate influence on elections. In order to change Congress’s ways, we will have to change the incentives that motivate its members’ behavior. Money is the most salient determinant. But how can “small” donors hope to have a greater impact than big ones? The answer would be: by collectively backing candidates from all parts of the country and from both parties who are committed to overcoming partisan gridlock and getting things done. Voters need to be proactive and empower themselves rather than passively let self-serving political organizations and wealthy contributors set the agenda and choose candidates for them. This goal could be accomplished through an online, interactive people’s forum dedicated to informing the public about candidates’ views, providing feedback to politicians, and donating to ones favoring legislative accomplishment over ideology. As such a forum expands, office seekers would become more broadly aware of public opinion and responsive to it. Money will still speak. But if it is going to continue to dominate electoral politics, isn’t it better to double down on this game than to throw in the towel and walk away?
John V. H. Dippel, an independent historian, has written several books on various topics in modern American and European history. In the late 1960s, he successfully petitioned several Senators to take up the cause of increasing First Amendment rights for members of the U.S. military. He welcomes the chance to lay out the case for doing so now through The Fulcrum.
