We Americans have always felt anxious about our democracy. As Benjamin Franklin famously said, ours is only “a republic, if you can keep it,” and we’ve been plagued by a nagging feeling ever since that we can’t. The latest bout of handwringing is brought on by declining literacy and the threat it poses to liberal democracy, and—aware of our penchant for anxiety though we may be—it is hard not to feel concerned.
The fact is that we have large and growing numbers of kids who can’t read well. National Assessment of Education Progress scores reveal that the number of students scoring below NAEP basic has grown steadily since 2019. While the percentage of students considered proficient has held steady, decreased literacy is reported even in elite colleges and universities. Adult reading is way down as well.
A host of figures on the Left and Right alike have come forward to call attention to this decline and its connection to self-government: Niall Ferguson warns that “we are rapidly moving to a future where information will be shared via spoken words and images, not text,” thereby undermining our ability “to make sense of the world.” James Marriott contends that “democracy draws immeasurable strength from print with its tendency to foster deep knowledge, logical argument, critical thought, objectivity, and dispassionate engagement,” all of which are threatened by declining literacy. Both echo the arguments of Adam Garfinkle that ‘deep literacy’—dialectical engagement with an extended text— “is what ultimately allowed Americans to become ‘We the People,’ capable of self-government.” Even Hillary Clinton has joined the chorus arguing against digital media such as TikTok that will lead us to “scroll our way to oblivion.”
As we enter our 250th year as a nation, the centrality of the Declaration of Independence to American identity seems beyond dispute. One poll found that 92 percent believe its principles have been a net force for good in the world. The temple-like structure of the National Archives that houses the original parchment symbolizes the reverence with which we treat this text. But whether, amidst declining literacy, Americans will continue to treat the document and its truths as sacred is in great doubt.
In her book Our Declaration, Danielle Allen sums up the moral foundation of the document: it does not require a belief in God but instead “a maximally strong commitment to the right of other people to survive and govern themselves…a reason to commit to other people’s survival and freedom so strong as to command one’s reverence. One way or another, one must hold sacred the flourishing of others.”
This strikes me as impossible without a broadly literate population. Not because reading necessarily fosters empathy, which seems suspect given the ample history of brutality among highly literate populations, but because commitment to an abstract truth such as human equality is impossible without the attachment to abstract ideas that deep literacy makes possible.
The blatant inequalities with which humans are endowed are plain to the naked eye. Only the written word provides access to the deeper equality that lies underneath and is the foundation of individual rights held equally by all persons—what Mary Harrington refers to as a “conception of the individual subject as a model of human personhood.” Only biblical religion and the influence of Enlightenment rationality, and the mixing of the two in what James Davison Hunter calls “America’s hybrid-Enlightenment," have proven capable of inspiring sufficient solidarity among us to “hold sacred the flourishing of others.”
As we lose our ability to access abstract truth, equality fades as a foundational principle. Indeed, hierarchy fills the void. Monarchy is a more suitable regime for such a society. We are in real danger of a return to kingship, and it has less to do with political leadership and more to do with the decline of reading. Harrington notes that “every culture that transitioned from print-first to digital-first ceased, in so doing, to form its population for democratic citizenship.” She argues that monarchy may be the least bad option facing the West in such circumstances. If she’s right, and we may rightly fear that she is, “No Kings” protests belong not in the streets but at the doors of our nation’s schools, colleges, and universities.Thomas Kelly is the vice president and chief program officer at the Jack Miller Center for Teaching America’s Founding Principles and History
U.S. President Donald Trump boards Air Force One on August 14, 2026 at Joint Base Andrews, Maryland. Trump is traveling to Long Island to tour law enforcement facilities in Nassau County and rally support for local Republican candidates ahead of the upcoming midterm elections
Travel Far Enough, You Meet Yourself
Is it possible that our President has simply not traveled enough?
Born and raised in Queens and attending Fordham University in the Bronx, Donald Trump has no record of traveling outside New York until he was over 20, when he transferred to a college in the neighboring state of Pennsylvania. Were his formative years amiss, then, in his learning about other places and other people?
Is his view akin to the famous New Yorker cover by Saul Steinberg, an illustration of the United States with New York City as the epicenter of the country and the Hudson River the border of the known world? We can now at least add Washington, D.C., and Mar-a-Lago to the map of “the realm.”
Our President has now traveled some, but what we recommend is another kind of travel. Not a state-sponsored trip or a venture to scout locations for future Trump Towers. This would be a genuine travel experience, enriching and eye-opening, showcasing other cultures and ways of living.
It will extend far beyond viewing military parades, hobnobbing with such “understanding” world leaders as Kim Jong Un, or taking tea with the King.
WHERE, then, should the President go? As Elon Musk’s Starship spacecraft is not yet ready to take passengers to Mars, perhaps he could explore our own vast country?
Maybe he could travel to “flyover country,” the farming states, where his ying-yanging tariffs and trade restrictions have played havoc with rural economies. Or possibly to California, number one in homeless U. S. citizens, and while there, regale homeless veterans (approximately 32,500 nationwide) with tales of his brave exploits invading and bombing foreign countries.
Or he might tour the Great Lakes, and rename the other four?
WHEN should he go? This will be tough, as he is very busy building his ballroom and renaming bodies of water.
How about a trip in early November, around the midterm elections? Despite the long-discredited accusation of widespread voter fraud, it would be reassuring to know he might be so caught up divvying out ladles of soup in a soup kitchen somewhere that he wouldn’t remember to deploy the military for “election security.”
HOW will he travel? He should definitely not take his Qatari-donated, newly renovated 747, especially after last time, when he had to be smuggled off clandestinely in a catering truck. It’s unlikely any traveling companions, like the Secretary of State or of the Treasury, are going to fall for the ruse a second time. Besides, we may need those people. No more decoys!
Perhaps the President could fly commercially, although this likely would expose him to undue suffering. Without gold bathroom fixtures and maple wood floors, the trip will be no “Luxury Experience.” If only he still had his “Trump Shuttle,” bought with a massive loan he later defaulted on, saying then, “I’m smart. I got out at a good time.”
Considering the potential pitfalls, maybe it’s best the President travel incognito, disguised perhaps as an elderly woman wearing a lot of bronzer.
Wherever, whenever, however: our President needs a vacation.
Moreover, we need a vacation from him.
If the President refuses our travel suggestions, here’s another idea:
Let’s get him a pet! He has never owned a pet. As we know with our children, pets teach essential life lessons: compassion and empathy; they instill a sense of responsibility. There is a well-established connection between those who can care for a pet and those who can care for people.
So, which pet should we choose? A puppy? A kitten? A boa constrictor?
Imagine, the President may even decide he likes having a pet. After all, what is more obedient than a well-trained dog, besides possibly the Cabinet? And what is more docile than a sweet kitten, other than plausibly the Supreme Court?
The President may even become more mellow with a pet afoot and less likely to slap tariffs on our allies, or attempt to annex our neighbors, or bully our Congress. (Realizing, of course, a bully requires active participation from the bullied to maintain his status.)
Maybe we should do both: get the President a pet and devise a travel plan for him. (Do you think we could possibly convince him to leave his phone at home?)
Let’s go for it! After all:
Travel far enough, you meet yourself. (David Mitchell)
And for our President, that would likely be the most profound discovery of all.
Amy Lockard is an Iowa resident who regularly contributes to regional newspapers and periodicals. She is working on the second of a four-book fictional series based on Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice."