Thomas Jefferson would have loved TikTok. He would have been a fierce champion of a generation of Americans — labeled Gen Z, or iGen — who grew up with cell phones in their hands, a strong penchant for escapism and an outsized regard for social media influencers.
You see, for Jefferson, it was all about thwarting tyranny. The opening lines of the Declaration of Independence herald his conviction: "When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the bands which have connected them with another," he wrote, "it is the right of the people to alter or abolish [the existing government], and to institute new Government, laying its foundations on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness." His loathing of King George III on full display.
But those same sentiments and that same loathing, Jefferson would argue, should now be directed squarely at him. And at Madison. And Hamilton. At Adams and, yes, even George Washington. America's most eloquent 18th century wordsmith knew that tyranny was not the sole estate of a mad king. Despotism can also come in the form of one generation holding unconstrained political authority over another. "The earth belongs in usufruct to the living, the dead have neither rights nor powers over it," he famously wrote to James Madison, by which he meant that one generation has no more right to regulate the lives and liberty of another than does a foreign power have the right to oppress its colonial subjects. Today's Americans, he would say, should shed the chains that unjustly bind them to the founding generation.
And that means rewriting the Constitution.
To snap out of our current political funk, Jefferson would implore us to return to Philadelphia to design a new fundamental law that reflects a 21st century spirit. But it's not just any constitutional framer who should be invited, and it's definitely not those, like me, from the silent or baby boomer generations. No, the stately Virginian would insist that there is little difference in a Constitution written by a generation or two removed from the current one as there is in a Constitution drafted more than 10 generations ago. Both are tyrannical.
One bold idea to revitalize and renew the American political experiment is thus not new at all; it is the Jeffersonian idea that America's latest generation — iGen/Gen Z — deserves, and indeed has the sole right, to organize a constitutional drafting party.
A federal Constitution drafted by iGen framers would look a good deal different than one prepared by other generations. A recent study reveals that seven in 10 members of the iGen community favor an "activist" and energetic government, one that "should do far more than our current political institutions to solve America's social and political ailments." Sixty percent of the silent generation and 50 percent of baby boomers favor the exact opposite.
And that's not all. 43 percent of the right or Republican-leaning iGen cohort acknowledge serious racial injustice in America, more than double the right or Republican-leaning baby boomers (20 percent).
Only 15 percent of the iGen generation views same-sex marriage as a "bad thing," whereas 32 percent of baby boomers and a full 43 percent of the silent generation condemn it.
Our most educated generation ever, iGen members favor broader constitutional rights, including textual protections for the environment, health care and the many social welfare safety nets. The same cannot be said for more senior generations, the ones that typically are recruited to compose modern constitutions.
The iGen generation wants stronger presidents, more aggressive legislatures and more activist courts. The silent generation and the baby boomers, in contrast, want to temper Alexander Hamilton's "energetic" executive, corral judicial activism and hold members of Congress close to the vest.
The members of iGen likely would favor a parliamentary system of government and alternative methods of voter choice (including ranked-choice voting). Older generations will doubtless gravitate to the status quo, the system of government most familiar — and most beneficial (profitable?) — to a population that enjoys a privileged financial, political and social station. There is a reason most newly drafted constitutions around the world and at the state level resemble the U.S. model.
To be sure, iGen trendd more conservative — more libertarian, really — but (ironically given his reputation for cutthroat partisanship) this is not a partisan end-around for Jefferson. It's about a just democracy, equitable representation and political legitimacy.
Those on the left have to understand that an iGen Constitution might include stronger gun rights and safeguards for digital freedom, while those on the right have to recognize that such a document likely would outlaw capital punishment, support abortion rights and legalize marijuana use. The iGens defy traditional partisan categories, and that's a good thing in a highly polarized, tribalist environment.
Almost 70 million Americans comprise the iGen village. A bold suggestion? Give their representatives a shot at crafting a constitutional document that reflects the world they will principally shape. Invite their delegates to Philadelphia to imagine a political design that exhibits their unique perspectives and their distinctive priorities. Give them pen and parchment and trust that they are capable of "establishing good government from reflection and choice." And then let Jefferson's unheeded refrain that "the earth belongs to the living" resound.




















A view of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C., on June 25, 2026. President Donald Trump jolted Republicans during a fiery appearance at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday, scrapping a housing bill signing ceremony and clashing behind closed doors with a party rebel who challenged him over the Iran war. Trump had been expected to sign the bipartisan housing.
Only Trump doesn’t care about housing
It was August 15, 2024. Then candidate Donald Trump stepped out of his Bedminster, New Jersey, golf club’s columned clubhouse to a gaggle of reporters. He was flanked by tables of groceries and signs showing the rising cost of food. Also on one of the tables was a dollhouse, meant to represent the equally alarming rise in housing prices.
It was a speech about the economy, the single most important issue of the 2024 election cycle, full of promises that went right to the heart of Americans’ anxieties. While former President Joe Biden and then Vice President Kamala Harris were contorting themselves to posture a good economy that just needed more time to recover from the pandemic, Trump was preying on voters’ very real fears of unaffordable gas, groceries, and homes. It was obviously a winning message.
In that speech, Trump promised, “We’re going to open up tracts of federal land for housing construction. We desperately need housing for people who can’t afford what’s going on now.”
As of mid-2023, there had been a housing shortage of nearly four million homes, according to the National Association of Realtors. Americans all over the country were either priced out of buying new homes due to low inventory, trapped in their existing homes by sky-high mortgage rates, or facing exorbitant rent hikes thanks to corporate investors buying up rental properties. Americans needed help, and Trump promised it.
Cut to March of 2026, when Trump reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson, “No one gives a sh*t about housing.”
That kind of thinking may explain why Trump this week suddenly announced he was canceling a signing ceremony for the bipartisan “21st Century ROAD to Housing Act,” a housing bill co-sponsored by Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Tim Scott that passed the House 358-32 and was approved in the Senate on Monday.
Trump instead demanded Congress pass the SAVE America Act, his controversial election grievance bill that doesn’t have enough Republican support to get passed in the Senate.
It’s just the latest in a line of policy self-owns where Trump has seemingly intentionally made life more difficult for Republicans hoping to keep their majority. Despite midterm elections occurring in the midst of a blistering economy and an unpopular war, they were surely hoping the housing bill would give them something — anything — to brag about when they returned home to their districts.
And very much to the contrary, Americans do give a sh*t about housing. According to a recent survey by the Bipartisan Policy Center, a whopping 79% say the cost of housing is extremely or very important to them. Eighty-three percent say Congress should take action on the issue — like it just did. Eighty-nine percent say the House and Senate need to work together to pass affordable housing legislation — like they just did. And 63% say they would be more likely to vote for a lawmaker if they helped pass legislation to build more affordable homes and lower housing costs — like they just did.
There aren’t many issues that unite Americans like housing does, and very few bipartisan policy wins Congress can point to, and yet, Trump is holding that bill hostage in order to get his pet project — which doesn’t even have the support of his own party — pushed through.
If you’re trying to make sense of something so nonsensical, as I’m sure many Republican lawmakers are, it’s certainly sad but not actually all that complicated. Trump said what he needed to get reelected and then promptly abandoned his promises in order to pursue his own self-interests, even if those interests are bad for Republicans and bad for voters.
That’s just the kind of guy he is.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.