Breslin is the Joseph C. Palamountain Jr. Chair of Political Science at Skidmore College and author of “A Constitution for the Living: Imagining How Five Generations of Americans Would Rewrite the Nation’s Fundamental Law.”
This is the latest in a series to assist American citizens on the bumpy road ahead this election year. By highlighting components, principles and stories of the Constitution, Breslin hopes to remind us that the American political experiment remains, in the words of Alexander Hamilton, the “most interesting in the world.”
Since 1958, the Pew Research Center has unfailingly tracked the public’s trust in government. It ain’t pretty. From a high during the early days of Lyndon Johnson’s administration, when roughly eight in 10 Americans proclaimed they had faith in Washington, to this very moment, when less than 20 percent say the same thing, the last six decades have witnessed a steady decline of Americans’ confidence in their federal institutions. Today, we are living in the most cynical, contemptuous and pessimistic era in modern history.
The reason for such gloom is varied. One study points to a sort of cyclical explanation: “negative perceptions of the economy, scandals associated with Congress, and increasing public concern about crime each lead to declining public trust in government. Declining trust in government in turn leads to less positive evaluations of Congress and reduced support for government action to address a range of domestic policy concerns.” Another study suggests the media, including social media, is partly to blame. Still another offers an interesting take that individualism, isolation, and the decline of America’s civic organizations has exacerbated suspicion and distrust. The answer is no doubt a combination of all of these factors – and many, many more.
One contributing factor that doesn’t get a whole lot of attention is our impulse to brood. Known as the negativity bias, humans are hardwired to “register” and to “dwell on” negative stimuli. All else being equal, in other words, our minds will gravitate to the negative.
In the political arena, such insight was broadly captured by James Madison in “Federalist 51.”
“What is government itself,” he wondered, “but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.”
Political officials are certainly not angels — then or now — and so we require “external controls” like constitutions, checks and balances, bills of rights, frequent elections, federalism, popular sovereignty and so on to prevent various forms of tyranny. The American political system is among the most intricate in the world, and that is because the Framers understood that humans are more likely to display demonic behavior than angelic. Sad as it sounds, the most elegant and successful political design in the history of the world was erected on a foundation of skepticism, apprehension and doubt.
None of us can escape our instincts, and thus none of us can fully dodge our negativity bias. But we can harness it and we can assemble our own personal “external controls” that, in the political setting at least, might reverse our collective reflex to distrust. We should begin with manageable undertakings. Commit to spending a week watching broadcasts from the opposite side of the partisan divide ... and really listen to those broadcasts. Enter into a conversation with someone from the opposite political party ... and endeavor to “ meet them where they are.” Remind oneself that political foes are just trying to locate a place for themselves in the political commotion and that most just want to tell their story and have others hear it.
Then attempt a few more ambitious endeavors. Kevin Frazier’s idea to switch to “no party preference” is a good one. If that doesn’t feel right, drop your Republican or Democratic party affiliation and register as an independent. How about shifting a few donor dollars from political parties or favored candidates to nonpartisan organizations that promote democracy, justice and equality? (The Fulcrum is an excellent place to start, but so is the Center for Civic Education or my favorite, the Robert H. Smith Center for the Constitution at James Madison’s Montpelier.) Of course, we should all join bowling leagues too.
And then there are the long-term ventures, the ones that, together with the personal projects above, will reshape the entire political landscape. I’m talking about structural changes to the body politic, architectural transformation that will bring about a new and modernized political system: Term limits for members of Congress, reimagining the way we elect our president, fixing the appallingly undemocratic Senate. Introducing these and other reforms would represent a renewal, a political recalibration for the 21st century. And even if our efforts ultimately fail (because politicians don’t want to modify a system that perpetuates their power, for example), we could really use the level of engagement that dialogue on this topic brings about. Let’s amend the Constitution to foster faith.
When viewed on the Pew chart, the steady downward trend of America’s trust in government looks strikingly like the celestial arc of a setting sun. It calls to mind a famous story that emerged from the final day of the Constitutional Convention.
The date is Sept. 17, 1787, and Madison is waiting for his turn to sign the newly drafted Constitution. Autographing the parchment will be the last act in a four-month production that will forever change the world. The “father of the Constitution” stands behind an aging and feeble Benjamin Franklin, who, Madison recounts, is staring at the chair that bore George Washington throughout the proceedings.
Made from mahogany by a master cabinetmaker, this Chippendale chair is exquisite. The back splat is ornate, the seat is covered in the finest leather. But Franklin is peering at the crest rail, the very top of the chair that supported General Washington’s head. Carved at the center of that crest rail is a half sun, an intricate and striking ornament to a magnificent piece of furniture. The sun’s rays are embellished in gold, as are the forehead, eyes and nose of the sun’s most pleasant face. All in the delegation would have been awed by its beauty.
Franklin begins to speak. “Painters,” he says, “have found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. I have, often and often in the course of the Session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting. But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.”
The sun will rise again on the American republic. If we have faith.




















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.