IVN is joined by Nate Allen, founder and Executive Director of Utah Approves, to discuss Approval Voting and his perspective on changing the incentives of our elections.
Podcast: Seeking approval in Utah

IVN is joined by Nate Allen, founder and Executive Director of Utah Approves, to discuss Approval Voting and his perspective on changing the incentives of our elections.
No one can denounce the New York Yankee fan for boasting that her favorite ballclub has won more World Series championships than any other. At 27 titles, the Bronx Bombers claim more than twice their closest competitor.
No one can question admirers of the late, great Chick Corea, or the equally astonishing Alison Krauss, for their virtually unrivaled Grammy victories. At 27 gold statues, only Beyoncé and Quincy Jones have more in the popular categories.
No one can doubt the sincerity of the stargazer who honors the length of the moon’s orbit around the Earth. At roughly 27 days, the lunar cycle can be an emotional sedative or an emotional amphetamine.
But lest we think the number 27 has some magical quality, we should all holler at the agonizing rarity of amending the United States Constitution. After 238 years, we’ve altered the text only 27 times. That’s simply not enough.
It’s difficult to amend the Constitution. Really difficult. In fact, Donald Lutz, the late political scientist at the University of Houston, has conclusively shown that the United States Constitution is the most unamendable charter in the entire world. The eminent political historian, Jill Lepore, recently echoed Lutz’s findings.
James Madison wanted it that way. In Federalist 49, he wrote: frequent appeal to the people [for amendments] would carry an implication of some defect in the government and deprive the government of the veneration which time bestows on everything…”. Stability, he insisted, requires that the Constitution remain mostly untouched.
As a result, Article V—the amendment article—was inserted into the Constitution. Article V has two avenues for new amendments. First, and most commonly, the Constitution can be amended with two-thirds majorities in both Houses of Congress, followed by approval from three-quarters of the states. Secondly, two-thirds of the state legislatures can request that Congress call a constitutional convention. Whatever is produced by such a convention would still need endorsement by three-quarters of the states.
The question is: has the Madisonian method served us well? Increasingly, pundits, scholars, and commentators view Article V as a constitutional vice, a defect of the original design. Indeed, America’s inability to amend its governing charter has contributed to the feeling that the Constitution is increasingly outdated.
And that is why each generation, if given the chance, would dramatically alter the constitutional amendment process. All would lower the bar to make it simpler to align the Constitution with the ever-changing world.
The most interesting proposal to improve Article V comes from the “Silent Generation.” That senior generation favors a conventional first step: two-thirds majorities in both Houses of Congress can propose a constitutional amendment. But then it gets interesting. The “Silent Generation” calls for a “public deliberation period” of at least one full year to consider the implications of the constitutional reform. Citizens would then vote in a national referendum. A super majority of two-thirds support would be required for any proposed amendment that alters the Bill of Rights or other fundamental freedoms. A simple majority is required for any suggested change to the government’s structure.
The emphasis on deliberative democracy carries over to the Baby Boomers. Any proposed constitutional amendment, insists Boomers, must be vetted through expansive public hearings, expert analysis, and a “national dialogue” on the generational and political implications of the change. Input must come from all segments of the citizenry.
The second stage of the Baby Boomer proposal would focus on states. Here, state ratifying conventions would examine the floated amendment. Three-quarters of the states must approve of the change, a high threshold meant to ensure widespread consensus. Similarly, a regional balance among large and small states, urban and rural populations, and economically affluent and less prosperous states is necessary to ensure a high degree of consensus. The final step toward ratification would be a simple majority vote in a national referendum.
Unsurprisingly, younger generations favor more populist and less governmental approaches to constitutional reform. Both Gen X and Gen Z prefer grassroots amendments. Gen Xers embrace the “citizen-initiated amendment,” whereby a petition signed by 2% of the voting population—about 3.5 million eligible voters—can trigger a constitutional amendment. Gen Zers are comfortable with 1%.
A key feature of the Gen Z amendment process is the involvement of a “Youth Council,” a group of 16-to 25-year-olds who are empowered to propose and evaluate potential constitutional amendments. Both generational constitutions then require super-majorities to endorse the proposed change.
Across all these constitutions, one thing is clear: every generation wants the amendment process to be more democratic, more accountable to the populace. We need to lower the threshold for constitutional revision. The double supermajority—a vote of two-thirds of both houses of Congress, followed by certification by three-quarters of the states—is frankly too formidable. It is no wonder that more than ten thousand amendments have been proposed, but only 27—and none since 1992 (a holdover from Madison's original 1789 list, no less)—have been ratified. It is time to improve the way we improve our Constitution.
The New Testament of the Bible contains 27 books. The human hand contains 27 bones. Most alphabets, including the Greek alphabet, contain 27 letters. The number 27 is a perfect cube.
Interesting facts, all. And not disconcerting. What is disconcerting is that we are celebrating the 238th anniversary of the “miracle in Philadelphia”—September 17, 2025—and we have only attended to 27 of the text’s many flaws. The number 27 symbolizes the nation’s struggle to update its fundamental law, a struggle that has kept us from achieving “a more perfect union.” That struggle must end.
Beau Breslin is the Joseph C. Palamountain Jr. Chair in Government at Skidmore College.
Prairie Gunnels just successfully and with honors completed her first year at Skidmore.
Trump’s mass deportations promise security but deliver economic pain, family separation, and chaos. Here’s why this policy is failing America.
As summer 2025 winds down, the Trump administration’s deportation machine is operating at full throttle—removing over one million people in six months and fulfilling a campaign promise to launch the “largest deportation operation in American history.” For supporters, this is a victory lap for law and order. For the rest of the lot, it’s a costly illusion—one that trades complexity for spectacle and security for chaos.
Let’s dispense with the fantasy first. The administration insists that mass deportations will save billions, reduce crime, and protect American jobs. But like most political magic tricks, the numbers vanish under scrutiny. The Economic Policy Institute warns that this policy could destroy millions of jobs—not just for immigrants but for U.S.-born workers in sectors like construction, elder care, and child care. That’s not just a fiscal cliff—it is fewer teachers, fewer caregivers, and fewer homes built. It is inflation with a human face. In fact, child care alone could shrink by over 15%, leaving working parents stranded and employers scrambling.
Meanwhile, the Peterson Institute projects a drop in GDP and employment, while the Penn Wharton School’s Budget Model estimates that deporting unauthorized workers over a decade would slash Social Security revenue and inflate deficits by nearly $900 billion. That’s not a typo. It’s a fiscal cliff dressed up as border security.
And then there’s food. Deporting farmworkers doesn’t just leave fields fallow—it drives up prices. Analysts predict a 10% spike in food costs, compounding inflation and squeezing families already living paycheck to paycheck. In California, where immigrant renters are disproportionately affected, eviction rates are climbing. The Urban Institute warns that deportations are deepening the housing crisis by gutting the construction workforce. So much for protecting American livelihoods.
But the real cost isn’t measured in dollars. It’s measured in broken families, empty classrooms, and quiet despair. The administration has deployed 10,000 armed service members to the border and ramped up “self-deportation” tactics—policies so harsh they force people to leave voluntarily. The result: Children skipping meals because their parents fear applying for food assistance; Cancer patients deported mid-treatment; and LGBTQ+ youth losing access to mental health care. The Human Rights Watch calls it a “crueler world for immigrants.” That’s putting it mildly.
This isn’t targeted enforcement. It’s a dragnet. Green card holders, long-term residents, and asylum seekers are swept up alongside undocumented workers. Viral videos show ICE raids at schools, hospitals, and churches. Lawsuits are piling up. And the chilling effect is real: immigrant communities are retreating from public life, afraid to report crimes or seek help. That’s not safety. That’s silence. Legal scholars warn that the administration’s tactics—raids at schools, churches, and hospitals—may violate Fourth Amendment protections and due process norms.
Even the administration’s security claims are shaky. Yes, border crossings are down—by about 60%, thanks to policies like “Remain in Mexico.” But deportation numbers haven’t met the promised scale. The Migration Policy Institute notes that monthly averages hover around 14,500, far below the millions touted. And the root causes of undocumented immigration—like visa overstays, which account for 60% of cases—remain untouched.
Crime reduction? Also murky. FBI data shows declines in some areas, but experts attribute this more to economic trends than immigration enforcement. In fact, fear in immigrant communities may be making things worse. When people won’t talk to the police, crimes go unreported. That’s not justice. That’s dysfunction.
Public opinion is catching up. In February, 59% of Americans supported mass deportations. By July, that number had cratered. Gallup reports a 25-point drop in favor of immigration cuts. The Pew Research Center finds that 75% of Democrats—and a growing number of independents—think the policy goes too far. Even Trump-friendly voices like Joe Rogan are balking, calling raids on “construction workers and gardeners” a betrayal of common sense.
On social media, the backlash is swift. Users on X (formerly Twitter) call the policy “ineffective,” “manipulative,” and “theater.” And they’re not wrong. This isn’t about solving immigration. It’s about staging a show—one where fear plays the villain and facts are the understudy.
The White House insists this is what voters wanted. But a narrow electoral win isn’t a blank check for policies that harm the economy and fray the social fabric. Alternatives exist: Targeted enforcement focused on violent offenders; visa reform to address overstays; and legal pathways to fill labor gaps. These aren’t radical ideas—they’re pragmatic ones. And they don’t require tearing families apart to work.
Trump’s deportation blitz is a mirage. It promises safety but delivers instability. It claims to protect jobs but undermines the very sectors that keep the country running. It speaks the language of law and order but acts with the recklessness of a demolition crew. Alternatives exist—and they work. Cities that focus on community policing and legal pathways report higher public safety and stronger economies. Reform doesn’t require cruelty. It requires courage.
U.S. President Donald Trump takes the stage during a reception for Republican members of the House of Representatives in the East Room of the White House on July 22, 2025 in Washington, DC. Trump thanked GOP lawmakers for passing the One Big Beautiful Bill Act.
The Fulcrum strives to approach news stories with an open mind and skepticism, striving to present our readers with a broad spectrum of viewpoints through diligent research and critical thinking. As best we can, we remove personal bias from our reporting and seek a variety of perspectives in both our news gathering and selection of opinion pieces. However, before our readers can analyze varying viewpoints, they must have the facts.
What are the new Medicaid work requirements, and are they more lenient or more restrictive than what previously existed?
The Big Beautiful Bill imposes federal work requirements for Medicaid for the first time. Starting January 1, 2027, most able-bodied adults must work, volunteer, or attend school for at least 80 hours per month to maintain coverage. Exemptions apply to seniors over 65, pregnant women, and parents of children under 14—but caregivers of older dependents or those with disabilities may not qualify for exemptions, making the policy more restrictive than prior state-level waivers.
Previously, work requirements were only allowed through state waivers and were often blocked or reversed by courts or federal agencies. The new law nationalizes and tightens these rules, adding complex reporting requirements and frequent verification deadlines. Analysts warn this will likely lead to coverage losses, especially among low-income workers, caregivers, and those facing logistical barriers like unreliable transportation or internet access.
Does Medicaid still cover gender-affirming care? No. The bill bans Medicaid funding for gender transition therapies, including hormone treatments and surgeries.
How does the bill change retroactive Medicaid coverage? The Big Beautiful Bill reduces the retroactive Medicaid coverage window from 90 days to 30 days, significantly limiting the timeframe in which past medical expenses can be reimbursed.
What is retroactive Medicaid coverage? Retroactive coverage allows Medicaid to pay for medical bills incurred up to three months before a person formally applies, as long as they would have qualified during that time. For example, if someone is hospitalized in January but doesn’t apply for Medicaid until March, retroactive eligibility could cover those January and February bills—assuming they met income and asset requirements then.
This provision has historically served as a safety net for low-income individuals facing sudden illness, injury, or hospitalization before they could complete the complex Medicaid application process. By shortening the window to just 30 days, the bill reduces flexibility for patients and providers, and may leave more people with unpaid medical debt during critical health events.
Can states still impose fees or assessments on healthcare providers—like hospitals, nursing homes, or clinics—that help states fund their share of Medicaid costs, and if not, how will this impact costs for Americans?
Under the Big Beautiful Bill, states are prohibited from establishing new provider taxes or increasing existing ones. These taxes have historically been levied on hospitals, nursing homes, and other providers, and they have been a key mechanism for states to generate revenue that qualifies for federal Medicaid matching funds. By restricting this tool, the bill limits states’ ability to finance their share of Medicaid, especially during economic downturns or budget shortfalls.
What changes affect the Children’s Health Insurance Program (CHIP), and how will this impact child care costs for Americans?
The Big Beautiful Bill imposes a series of constraints on CHIP, including a reduction in retroactive coverage from 90 days to 30 days, and a 10-year moratorium on new eligibility and enrollment regulations. It also freezes modernization efforts that would have expanded access and streamlined enrollment for children in low-income families.
Additionally, the bill penalizes expansion states that cover lawfully residing immigrant children under CHIP, potentially forcing up to 17 states to drop coverage or absorb higher costs. These changes could lead to coverage losses, increased administrative burdens, and reduced flexibility for states to respond to child health needs.
While CHIP itself doesn’t directly subsidize child care, its erosion can have indirect financial consequences:
In parallel, the Big Beautiful Bill expands dependent care tax credits, raising the Child and Dependent Care Tax Credit from 35% to 50% of qualified expenses, and increasing Dependent Care Assistance Plan limits from $5,000 to $7,500. These provisions may offer partial relief to families—but only for those who qualify and can navigate the new tax structures.
How does the bill impact ACA Marketplace subsidies and enrollment?
Special enrollment based on projected income is eliminated. Annual income verification is now required, and repayment caps for excess tax credits are removed.
Can undocumented immigrants access ACA subsidies under the new law?
No. The bill bars undocumented and temporarily documented immigrants from receiving Affordable Care Act tax credits.
What reforms target Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs)?
The bill introduces pricing transparency and regulatory oversight to potentially reduce PBM influence and lower prescription drug costs.
How is Medicare fraud detection enhanced?
$25 million is allocated to the Department of Health and Human Services to deploy artificial intelligence for identifying and recovering improper Medicare payments.
Will Medicare funding be affected by deficit triggers?
Yes. Automatic sequestration provisions could reduce Medicare reimbursements if federal deficit thresholds are exceeded.
What support is provided for rural hospitals?
Closed rural hospitals may reopen under the Rural Emergency Hospital (REH) designation, expanding access in underserved communities.
What is the projected impact on health insurance coverage?
According to the Congressional Budget Office, up to 13.7 million Americans could lose health coverage by 2034, including 7.8 million from Medicaid alone.
How much federal healthcare spending is cut?
The bill reduces direct healthcare reimbursements by an estimated $910 billion over the next decade.
David Nevins is publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
Every September 17, Americans mark Constitution Day—the anniversary of the signing of our nation’s foundational charter in 1787. The day is often commemorated with classroom lessons and speaking events, but it is more than a ceremonial anniversary. It is an invitation to ask: What does it mean to live under a constitution that was designed as a charge for each generation to study, debate, and uphold its principles? This year, as we look toward the semiquincentennial of our nation in 2026, the question feels especially urgent.
The decade between 1776 and 1787 was defined by a period of bold and intentional nation and national identity building. In that time, the United States declared independence, crafted its first national government, won a war to make their independence a reality, threw out the first government when it failed, and forged a new federal government to lead the nation. We stand at a similar inflection point. The coming decade, from the nation’s semiquincentennial in 2026 to the Constitution’s in 2037, offers a parallel opportunity to reimagine and reinvigorate our American civic culture. Amid the challenges we face today, there’s an opportunity to study, reflect, and prepare to write the next chapters in our American story—it is as much about the past 250 years, as it is about the next 250 years. It will require the same kind of audacious commitment to building for the future that was present at the nation’s outset.
The real founding legacy is one of innovation and improvisation. The Articles of Confederation, the country’s first governance charter, went into effect in 1781. Just six years later, delegates gathered in Philadelphia for a Constitutional Convention. They threw out the Articles, drafted a new constitution, and sent it to the states for ratification. In 1789, less than twelve months after the Constitution was ratified, Congress passed the Bill of Rights, adding ten amendments to the original document. The states approved several additional amendments over the coming decades to close loopholes in the original text or clarify ambiguous language.
The framers never believed they were creating a perfect union, but a more perfect one. They expected future generations to take up the mantle of improvement. Many generations embraced the challenge. The post-Civil War amendments abolished slavery, the 19th Amendment extended suffrage to white women, and the Civil Rights Acts of the 1960s extended suffrage to people of color. The true founding legacy—that every generation has the obligation to make the nation more perfect for subsequent generations—is one that both expects and invites thoughtful, informed participation.
As we prepare to mark these uniquely American milestones, we must not treat them as nostalgic, ceremonial mile-markers, but as civic catalysts.
If we treat the semiquincentennial as a season of civic renewal—an American “civic renaissance”—we can make civic learning as fundamental as literacy and math. Without it, democracy withers. Just as we teach every child to read, we must teach every child to lead. As U.S. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis famously wrote, “[t]he most important political office is that of the private citizen.” To claim that mantle, Americans of all ages must see their role as citizen as central to their daily lives. Civics needs to feel real and alive, and relevant at all phases of a person’s life—from pre-K to grey. It is not only the essential work of our nation’s schools, but also of parents, grandparents, and caregivers to instill civic knowledge and virtue in our nation’s young people. We must also make constitutional engagement a valued public ritual, model civil discourse, invest in civic educators inside and outside the classroom, and protect and celebrate civic spaces like museums, libraries, and historical sites. Reviving constitutional culture means teaching it, practicing it, celebrating it, and modeling it—together, across divides, and for our entire lifespans.
Our organizations, the National Constitution Center and Mount Vernon, as well as other museums, historic sites, and civic education groups, through innovative digital resources, public programs, and even bolder interventions, are leading the charge to redefine for millions of Americans what it means to be a thoughtful, engaged citizen.
As we prepare to celebrate 250 years of independence, the question is not only how we will honor the past, but how we will write our next chapters together?
Lindsay Chervinsky is the presidential historian and Executive Director of the George Washington Presidential Library at Mount Vernon.
Julie Silverbrook is Vice President of Civic Education at the National Constitution Center.