A republic cannot survive on participation alone; it requires judgment. We are currently drowning in data but starved for the wisdom to weigh it.

While we have spent the last century rightly expanding access to the ballot, we have quietly neglected the one condition that gives that ballot meaning: the ability of the citizen to understand, evaluate, and direct the system they are participating in.

We have secured the right to vote, but we have lost the capacity to rule. A population that votes without understanding does not govern – it reacts.

As explored in Restoration Paper No. 7, this is the environment in which the Expert Class emerges.

When the citizen cannot evaluate complexity, authority naturally migrates to those who can. A citizenry that delegates its thinking eventually delegates its sovereignty. If we are to restore self-government, we must address whether the people are prepared to hold the power they claim.

II. The Problem: Participation Without Preparation

Modern civic education reflects a gradual lowering of expectations. The Expert Class did not seize the schoolhouse; they simply filled the silence left by a retreating curriculum. Today, civics is often reduced to a bureaucratic checklist of dates and definitions – teaching the mechanics of the machine while forgetting the purpose of the engine.

Students are asked to recall facts rather than wrestle with principles. This is not an education for a sovereign citizen; it is a training manual for a managed population. It teaches the citizen to wait for an expert’s interpretation rather than to read the law for themselves. We have maintained the architecture of the Republic – the buildings and the ballots – while evicting the spirit of inquiry that once inhabited them.

III. The Principle: Authority Requires Understanding

The Founders did not assume citizens would be technical experts, but they did assume citizens would be capable of judgment. Self-government requires the ability to ask the “Audit Questions” that serve as the guardrails of liberty:

• Who has the authority to make this decision?

• By what mechanism are they held accountable?

• Is this action rooted in law – or merely in administrative policy?

• Is this a matter of objective fact, or a value judgment disguised as expertise?

Without these questions, the citizen cannot govern; they can only defer. Once deference becomes the norm, authority no longer flows upward from the people – it settles permanently above them.

IV. The Proposal: A Standard of Civic Competence

If voting is the mechanism of authority, then civic competence must be its armor. I propose a shared Standard of Judgment – a baseline of constitutional literacy that restores the citizen’s ability to audit the Expert Class. We do not need more voters; we need more governors. Civic competence is the only antidote to the Caretaker State. To be competent is to no longer require a translator for your own laws.

V. The Curriculum of the Sovereign

This is not an academic exercise; it is preparation for responsibility. The curriculum must rest on three pillars:

1. Foundational Principles & Limits of Authority: Students must engage with the Declaration, the Constitution, and the Federalist Papers – not as historical artifacts, but as operating frameworks. Without understanding limits, authority has none.

2. The Mechanics of Accountability: Citizens must distinguish between Legislative Law and Administrative Rule. They must recognize when their consent has been bypassed by an agency and understand the 10th Amendment as the key to reclaiming local sovereignty.

3. Civic Skills & Active Engagement: Citizens must develop the ability to analyze data, identify bias, and engage in civil disagreement. A citizen who cannot argue for their principles will eventually be told what they are.

VI. Addressing the Objection: The “Armor” vs. The “Gate”

The most serious objection is the history of “literacy tests” used for exclusion. However, this proposal is fundamentally different in intent and structure. Past tests were weapons of the state designed to ensure the citizen failed; this curriculum is a tool for the people to ensure the Republic succeeds.

To ensure this is not a barrier, the curriculum must be:

• Universal, publicly funded, and transparent.

• Implemented at the state and local levels to prevent a centralized Expert Class from seizing the curriculum.

• Framed as training, not a tax. We do not ask a soldier to carry a rifle without training; we should not ask a citizen to carry the sovereign power of the ballot without the skill to defend it against manipulation.

VII. The Constitutional Challenge

This reform likely requires a Constitutional Amendment to remove it from the reach of the administrative state. While the Standard of Competence must be national, the Instruction and Oversight must remain with the States. This prevents a federal monopoly on truth and ensures an Ohioan understands the laws of Ohio as clearly as the laws of the Union. A policy can be manipulated by a bureaucracy, but an Amendment belongs to the people.

VIII. The Risk of Inaction

If we reject this path, participation will continue to expand while understanding continues to decline. The Expert Class will not “take” power; we will hand it over because we can no longer carry the weight of it. We will trade the burden of self-government for the ease of being overseen.

We will let experts decide our health, currency, and children’s futures not because we agree, but because we no longer know how to argue with them. The ballot will function like a customer satisfaction survey rather than a mandate. Authority does not abhor a vacuum; if the people are not competent to rule, the vacuum will be filled by managers of a failing estate.

IX. Conclusion: From Passive Participation to Active Self-Government

A republic is not built on trust; it is built on institutionalized suspicion. We do not trust those in power—we audit them. But an auditor who cannot read the books is useless.

To restore the Republic, we must first restore the Citizen. We must move beyond the ballot as a ritual and return to the ballot as a command.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

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To My Fellow Americans,

If you have read the previous Restoration Papers, you may notice a pattern. A familiar refrain:

- No vote.

- No amendment.

- No clear moment of choice.

This is not accidental; it is a clinical observation of a system in drift. Because the transformation we are examining did not occur through a single act – one that could be easily identified or resisted – it unfolded through the quiet normalization of administrative power.

And so, the language must repeat. Not for emphasis alone, but for recognition. Repetition is how the mind sees the scaffolding of the “Expert Class” where it once saw only “neutral management.” These phrases are meant to stay with you because the most significant changes to a system of self-government rarely announce themselves – they simply settle in until they feel so normal, you never give them a second thought.

I. Introduction: The Quiet Transfer of Authority

There was no vote. No amendment. No formal declaration. And yet, a profound transformation has occurred: authority – once rooted in the judgment of the citizen – has steadily migrated to a class of credentialed experts.

Decisions that were once debated in the town square and the legislative hall are now issued through regulatory guidance, technical memoranda, and institutional consensus. We have witnessed a linguistic sleight of hand. We no longer speak of “Law,” but of “Policy”; not of “Representation,” but of “Management.”

As an example, we see this today in the rise of the “White House Czar” - positions like the Border Czar, Drug Czar, or AI Czar. These appointees wield power comparable to cabinet secretaries yet bypass the constitutional “advice and consent” of the Senate. They do not answer to the people’s representatives; they answer only to the Executive, moving the levers of national policy through “coordination” and “oversight” that the public can neither check nor balance.

This is not the sudden abolition of democracy; it is something more subtle, and therefore more difficult to extract. It is the rise of the Expert Class – a system that replaces the messy, accountable judgment of the people with the quiet, insulated administration of the specialist.

II. The Founders’ Design: A Republic of Citizens, Not Specialists

The American system was not built on the assumption that citizens would be experts; it was built on the conviction that they did not need to be.

As Thomas Jefferson warned, the moment we are directed from a central authority on the basic tasks of life – when to sow and when to reap – we “should soon want bread”.

Jefferson did not argue against the existence of specialized knowledge, but he vehemently argued against its rule. He understood that the only “safe depository” of power is the people themselves. This reveals a fundamental truth of the Founders’ design: a free society does not require perfect decision-making; it requires accountable decision-making.

When authority migrates to those who cannot be meaningfully checked, corrected, or removed by the ballot, the Republic does not just change its methods, it begins to lose its soul.

III. The Justification: Complexity as a Gateway to Control

The rise of the expert class was not a sudden seizure of power either. It was justified – often persuasively – on the grounds of necessity. Modern life is undeniably complex: healthcare, financial markets, and environmental science require specialized skill and long-term planning.

From this complexity, a dangerous argument formed: The public cannot understand these issues. Therefore, experts must decide. At first glance, this appears to be a practical response to a technical world.

But embedded within it is a fundamental betrayal of the Republic. It marks the shift from experts advising the public to experts replacing them. When we allow complexity to serve as a gateway to control, we trade the judgment of the citizen for the management of the specialist – and in doing so, we forget that while experts can provide the data, only the people can provide the consent.

Consider the role of the White House AI Czar for example. The argument is familiar: “AI is too technical for the average voter or even the average Congressman to grasp.” Under the banner of managing this complexity, a single unconfirmed advisor can shape the federal framework for the most transformative technology of our era, effectively deciding the rules of the digital road while the citizen is told to simply “trust the process.”

IV. The Mechanism: From Representation to Administration

The expert class does not govern through elections; it governs through institutions. By operating within the autonomy of agencies, boards, and commissions, it has created a parallel system of authority that is insulated from direct voter control.

While this power is often described as “delegated” by the legislature, its practice is far more expansive. These bodies now function as a closed loop: they draft the rules, interpret their meaning, enforce compliance, and adjudicate disputes within their own internal frameworks.

This consolidation represents the exact “accumulation of all powers” that James Madison warned was the “very definition of tyranny.”

The traditional structure of our Republic has not collapsed, but it has been fundamentally reconfigured – replacing a system of checks and balances with one of administrative command.

This parallel system is perfected by the White House Chief of Staff and Deputy Chiefs of Staff. These appointees operate the ‘closed loop’ of the administrative state from within the West Wing. They determine which data reaches the President and which policies are prioritized, acting as the ultimate architects of the “Policy” that has replaced “Law.” They are the engineers of the machinery, yet they remain entirely insulated from the ballot box.

V. The Cultural Shift: Deference Over Judgment

Beyond the structural changes lies a more profound cultural shift: the conditioning of the citizen to defer rather than judge. Modern life is now punctuated by slogans that demand submission: “Trust the experts,” “Follow the science,” and “The data is settled.”

These phrases carry a heavy, implicit message: Your judgment is insufficient.

This is not an argument against the value of expertise; it is an argument against unquestioned authority. True expertise seeks to inform and illuminate. However, when expertise is stripped of accountability and used to bypass public debate, it ceases to be a resource and becomes a form of power. In this shift, the citizen is no longer an active participant in a Republic, but a passive recipient of institutional decrees.

VI. Modern Examples: When Expertise Becomes Policy

We can observe this shift across multiple domains, each following a predictable pattern: Complex issue → Expert authority → Reduced public input → Expanded institutional control.

1. Public Health Policy: During times of crisis, agencies like the CDC issued ‘guidelines’ that effectively functioned as mandates – altering the operations of businesses and schools without direct legislative approval or meaningful public debate.

2. Monetary Policy: The Federal Reserve wields immense power over interest rates and the money supply. These decisions shape the economic life of every American, yet its leadership remains insulated from direct electoral accountability.

3. Regulatory Expansion: Agencies such as the EPA establish complex rules that carry civil and even criminal penalties. By doing so, they effectively create law through regulation, bypassing the transparent process of legislation.

4. Enforcement by Decree: The role of the “Border Czar” demonstrates how enforcement priorities are shifted without legislative debate. By coordinating multiple agencies (Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Customs and Border Protection) under a single, unconfirmed lead, the administration can execute mass operations that fundamentally alter the social and economic fabric of communities, bypassing the transparent process of Congressional authorization.

In each instance, the result is the same: the technical complexity of the issue is used to justify the removal of the decision from the hands of the people.

VII. The Consequence: The Erosion of Self-Governance

A system cannot simultaneously expand the reach of the expert class and maintain the sovereignty of the citizens. Eventually, that tension resolves – and it does so not through a sudden rebellion, but through a slow, quiet resignation.

When the fundamental levers of society are moved behind a veil of technical complexity, citizens begin to see governance as something done to them, rather than by them. They become spectators in their own Republic.

In this shift, we see the transformation explored in our previous paper: the citizen is demoted to a client. The client does not participate; they receive. The client does not judge; they consume. And in that transition from active participant to passive recipient, the very foundation of self-governance erodes.

VIII. The Counterargument: Expertise Is Necessary

To restore the proper balance, we must acknowledge a fundamental truth: Expertise is not the enemy. No modern society can navigate the complexities of the 21st century without specialized knowledge.

However, the question is not whether experts should exist – it is whether they should rule. There is a profound difference between informing a decision and making it. The former strengthens a republic by providing the people with the best possible data to exercise their judgment; the latter replaces the republic by removing the people from the process entirely.

In a healthy system, the expert is a servant of the public interest, not the master of the public’s will.

IX. The Restoration Principle: Authority Must Remain Accountable

The corrective to the rise of the technocracy is not radical; it is foundational. Expertise must be returned to its proper role: it must be advisory, not authoritative. This restoration requires four essential shifts:

1. Reasserting Legislative Responsibility: Elected representatives must reclaim the duty of lawmaking, ending the practice of delegating their constitutional power to unelected agencies. Restoration requires an end to “Shadow Cabinets.” If a position exercises the authority of a high officer – directing agencies, shaping national standards, or overseeing enforcement – that position must be subject to Senate confirmation and public testimony. We must stop allowing the “Czar” model to shield the exercise of power from the light of accountability.

2. Limiting Administrative Scope: Agencies should be restricted to executing clearly defined laws – they must not be permitted to create them.

3. Restoring Transparency: Any decision affecting the public must be presented in a way that is understandable to the public, stripping away the “complexity” used to shield authority.

4. Rebuilding Civic Confidence: We must encourage, not dismiss, the exercise of citizen judgment.

Self-government is not sustained by perfect knowledge; it is sustained by active participation.

X. Conclusion: The Choice Before Us

The rise of the expert class was not the result of a hidden conspiracy; it was a response to the overwhelming scale and complexity of modernity. But in our attempt to manage the challenges of a technical age, we have inadvertently created a system where authority is exercised by those the public can no longer meaningfully direct.

We must remember that the Founders did not design a nation of specialists; they designed a nation of citizens. That distinction is the bedrock of our liberty.

As we look toward restoration, the question is no longer whether experts are necessary – we know that they are. The only question that remains is the one upon which the entire American experiment rests:

Who governs?

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

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At some point, the question changed.

From:

“What can I do?”

To:

“What do I qualify for?”

That shift didn’t happen all at once.

It happened gradually—through systems designed to help, programs built to stabilize, and policies that made life a little more predictable.

And to be clear… this isn’t about blaming individuals.

If a system exists, people will use it.
That’s not a failure of character.
That’s human nature.

The real question is deeper.

What kind of behavior does the system encourage?

Because over time, systems don’t just provide support.

They shape decisions.
They shape incentives.
And eventually… they shape identity.

A republic depends on citizens… people who act, build, and take ownership.

But a system built around qualification produces something different:

Clients.

🎧 Episode 7: A Nation of Citizens or a System of Clients? is now live.

If you’ve ever found yourself asking “What do I qualify for?” instead of “What can I build?” - this episode will help you understand why.

Listen Here

If this resonates, follow along. It’s free—and we’re just getting started.

Because a republic survives only when its citizens refuse to become subjects.

Introduction: The Word That Lost Its Meaning

“Patriot.”

It is one of the most powerful words in the American vocabulary. It is also one of the most abused.

Today, the word is often weaponized – not to inspire devotion to country, but to demand subservience to leadership. It is invoked to silence questions, dismiss dissent, and draw a line between those who “stand with us” and those branded as enemies.

But in a republic, patriotism was never meant to be a rubber stamp for authority. True patriotism isn’t measured by how loudly one cheers for those in power – but by the courage to question them in defense of the ideals they serve.

I. The Founders’ Expectation: Suspicion of Power

The American system was not built on trust in government; it was built on a calculated suspicion of it.

As James Madison wrote in Federalist No. 51, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” This was not cynicism – it was realism. The Founders understood that power, once granted, seeks its own expansion. It justifies its reach until it eventually escapes the limits placed upon it.

That is why they did not simply build institutions; they assigned a role to the individual. Madison called the people the “primary control” on the government – not a passive audience, but an active restraint.

Citizens would question power.

Not as a sign of disloyalty, but as a preservation of the Republic.

Not occasionally, but as a matter of duty.

II. The Modern Inversion: Patriotism as Compliance

Today, the Founders’ expectation has been inverted.

Questioning government action, especially in moments of crisis, is increasingly framed as a lack of resolve, or worse… disloyalty. Asking for justification is labeled “undermining.” Demanding constitutional clarity is dismissed as “obstruction.”

The accusation follows a predictable, toxic path:

If you question it, you must oppose it.

If you oppose it, you must be against your country.

This is not patriotism; it is the redefinition of patriotism into compliance.

Once this shift takes hold, the fundamental chemistry of a republic changes. The citizen is no longer a check on power – they become its defender, shielding the state from the very scrutiny that keeps it free.

III. War and the Pressure to Conform

This inversion of patriotism becomes most dangerous in matters of war. War compresses time, heightens emotion, and demands a singular, unquestioned unity. In this environment, the space for dissent – the very air a republic breathes – begins to disappear.

The pattern is as old as the Republic itself: a threat is declared, urgency is emphasized, and “unity” becomes a synonym for silence. Those who ask for clarity are accused of weakening the effort; those who ask for justification are accused of aiding the enemy.

But this is precisely when questioning matters most. War is where the cost of error is highest – measured in lives, national treasure, and long-term consequences that outlive any single administration.

To surrender our scrutiny at the moment the stakes are highest is not an act of patriotism. It is an abdication of our role as citizens. We do not support our country by blindfolded compliance; we support it by ensuring its actions remain worthy of the men and women who defend it.

IV. The Constitutional Standard: A Map for the Storm

The Constitution does not evaporate in times of tension – it becomes our only reliable anchor.

The Founders deliberately denied any single individual the power to declare war. They understood that the Executive, driven by the heat of the moment and the pull of “necessity,” is the branch most prone to conflict.

By vesting the war power in the legislature, they ensured that any move toward violence would first have to survive the friction of public debate and constitutional scrutiny.

If a conflict cannot withstand that scrutiny, it is not “justified” by urgency. It is rendered suspect by it.

A patriot does not fold the Constitution away when it becomes inconvenient or “inefficient” for the state. A patriot insists on it, especially then, knowing that a government that can bypass the law in a crisis will eventually find a reason to bypass it in the calm.

V. The False Choice: Reclaiming the Third Position

We are increasingly cornered by a false choice: Support the action, or you must support the enemy.

But a republic was never meant to operate within such a narrow, dangerous binary. It was designed for a third position:

- Support the country; question the decision.

- Reject the adversary abroad; demand clarity from the leaders at home.

- Honor the men and women in uniform; scrutinize the policies that put them in harm’s way.

These are not contradictions. They are the essential functions of a free person. To love your country is to want it to be right – and to ensure it is right, you must be willing to point out when it is wrong. This is not disloyalty; it is intellectual coherence. It is the refusal to trade the office of “Citizen” for the role of “Spectator.”

VI. The Real Meaning of Patriotism

Patriotism is not a performance. It is not a measurement of your slogans, your volume, or how quickly you align with the prevailing wind of authority.

A patriot does not measure loyalty by alignment – but by adherence to principle, especially when it is unpopular to do so. It is the courage to ask questions when silence is the only “safe” option.

A patriot understands that a free society depends on three non-negotiables:

• Justification for every exercise of power.

• Clarity for every national commitment.

• Limits on every government action.

We do not demand these things because they are easy, or because we seek to obstruct. We demand them because they are essential. To love your country is to hold it to the highest standard, even, and especially, when its leaders would prefer you didn’t.

Conclusion: The Line That Cannot Be Crossed

There will always be moments when questioning power is framed as betrayal. There will always be pressure to conform – to accept the narrative, to align with the crowd, and to remain silent.

But that is precisely when the “line” matters most.

A patriot does not abandon their responsibility when it becomes difficult or unpopular. They fulfill it. They understand that true loyalty is not found in a rubber stamp for authority, but in a relentless commitment to the principles that define us.

In the end, we do not question our country to weaken it. We question it because we refuse to let it drift away from its soul

That is not dissent. That is patriotism.

The Publius Project exists to restore this essential understanding – that patriotism is not loyalty to power, but fidelity to the principles that limit it.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

Loyalty is one of the most praised virtues in public life.

It is invoked in campaigns, demanded in movements, and expected of supporters. It is treated as a mark of character – proof of seriousness, commitment, and resolve.

But in a republic, loyalty is not what we have made it.

Somewhere along the way, it has been misplaced. Loyalty is a virtue in private life – within family, friendships, and personal trust – which is why it is so easily, and dangerously, misapplied to the state.

What was meant to bind citizens to principle has been redirected toward personalities. What was meant to preserve constitutional order has been repurposed to protect political power. And what was meant to strengthen a free people now too often weakens them, by discouraging the very independence that liberty requires.

The danger is not simply that loyalty exists.

The danger is that it is aimed in the wrong direction.

I. The Founders’ Design: Loyalty to Principle, Not Person

The American Founders did not design a system that required loyalty to leaders.

They designed one that assumed leaders would fail.

Ambition, error, vanity, and overreach were not seen as rare defects. They were understood as permanent features of human nature. The structure of the Constitution – separation of powers, checks and balances, divided authority – was built to restrain those tendencies, not to trust them.

As James Madison wrote in Federalist No. 51:

“If men were angels, no government would be necessary.”

This design carries an implicit expectation:

Citizens are not followers.

They are participants in the maintenance of the system itself.

A republic cannot function if loyalty is directed toward individuals rather than institutions and principles. Once allegiance shifts from the Constitution to the officeholder, restraint collapses. The limits on power become optional… enforced only when politically convenient and ignored when politically costly.

The Founders feared monarchy not simply because of the crown, but because of the mindset it encouraged: the elevation of a single will above the law.

That danger does not disappear when the title changes.

II. The Modern Inversion: From Citizenship to Alignment

In this inversion, loyalty becomes less about principle and more about identity.

What begins as support hardens into attachment.
What begins as judgment becomes defense.

Over time, questioning a leader is no longer treated as a civic duty, but as a personal betrayal.

Not because the stakes have changed, but because the individual has become psychologically invested in the defense itself.

The result is predictable:

Consistency of defense replaces clarity of judgment.

The citizen is no longer weighing actions against principle—but protecting alignment at all costs.

III. The Cost of Misplaced Loyalty

The consequences of this shift are not theoretical.

They appear most clearly in moments of crisis, especially in matters of war.

War is where the pressure to conform is strongest. It is where dissent is most easily labeled as disloyalty, and where the cost of misplaced loyalty is measured not in rhetoric, but in lives.

When the flag is unfurled, the distinction between the nation and its current commander begins to dissolve in the heat of national fervor.

History has shown a recurring pattern:

• A threat is elevated.

• Urgency is declared.

• Unity is demanded.

• Questions are discouraged.

• Authority expands.

And loyalty – misunderstood – becomes the mechanism by which restraint is abandoned.

When citizens feel compelled to defend decisions simply because they are made by leaders they support, the constitutional safeguards designed to slow, question, and limit power are bypassed in practice.

The result is not strength.

It is drift… away from a republic of laws and toward a system governed by momentum, emotion, and concentrated authority.

IV. The Necessary Distinction: Supporting vs. Submitting

There is a critical distinction that must be restored:

Supporting a leader is not the same as submitting to one.

Support is conditional.
It is based on performance, alignment with principle, and adherence to constitutional limits.

Submission is unconditional.

It requires no standard beyond allegiance.

As George Washington warned in his Farewell Address:

“The spirit of party… serves always to distract the public councils and enfeeble the public administration.”

To support a president – or any leader – does not require agreement in all things. It requires the opposite: the willingness to withdraw support when lines are crossed.

That is not disloyalty.

That is responsibility.

V. The Citizen’s Burden

The stability of a republic does not rest solely on its institutions.

It rests on its citizens.

No structure, no matter how well designed, can withstand a population unwilling to exercise independent judgment. The Constitution provides the framework, but it is the people who must give it force.

That requires something difficult:

The willingness to stand apart from one’s own side when necessary.

To say:

• This goes too far.

• This violates the principle.

• This is not what we are supposed to be.

Not because it is politically advantageous, but because it is required.

This is the burden of citizenship.

It cannot be delegated.
It cannot be avoided.
And it cannot survive in a culture where loyalty is defined as silence.

As Thomas Jefferson wrote:

“The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.”

And:

“The spirit of resistance to government is so valuable on certain occasions, that I wish it to be always kept alive.”

VI. Reordering Loyalty

This article is not a rejection of leadership.

It is a redefinition of it.

Leaders are not entitled to loyalty.

They are subject to it… conditional, measured, and revocable.

Anything else is not republican in nature.

It is something else entirely.

Conclusion: The Line That Must Be Held

There will always be pressure to conform.

There will always be moments when standing on principle carries a cost… social, political, or personal.

That is when loyalty is tested.

Not when it is easy.
Not when it is rewarded.
But when it requires you to stand apart.

A citizen is not defined by how strongly they defend power.

A citizen is defined by whether they are willing to limit it, even when it is exercised by those they support.

If that feels like betrayal to some, then it is worth asking:

Was the loyalty ever to the country in the first place?

If the republic is to endure, the order of loyalty must be restored:

Country over party.
Principle over personality.
Constitution over convenience.

The Publius Project exists to restore that line – where loyalty is measured not by who you defend, but by what you refuse to surrender.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

To My Fellow Americans,

A free society is defined less by its laws than by the posture of its people. For most of our history, Americans understood themselves as participants – citizens who helped sustain, shape, and govern our nation.

Today, that experience has fundamentally shifted. We no longer see ourselves as participants, but as clients. We have become clients of programs, agencies, and processes designed not to protect liberty, but to administer the growing complexities of daily life.

This transformation did not occur by a single declaration or a grand design; it accumulated through a thousand small decisions. Each layer of structure introduced in the name of stability, safety, or efficiency gradually redefined the relationship between the individual and the state.

The result is not simply a larger system… it is a different kind of society.

The Original Posture: The Citizen

The American system was built on a foundational assumption: that society would be composed of individuals capable of self-direction. Citizens were expected to provide for their own families, participate in local institutions, and take responsibility for solving problems within their own communities.

Government existed to secure the conditions in which this behavior could flourish… not to replace it.

As discussed in previous papers, authority was meant to begin with the individual and extend outward only as necessary. Samuel Adams captured this expectation clearly:

“The natural liberty of man is to be free from any superior power on Earth, and not to be under the will or legislative authority of man, but only to have the law of nature for his rule.”

This was not merely a philosophical ideal; it was a structural requirement for a self-governing republic.

The Gradual Transition

The movement from citizen to client did not begin as a sudden philosophical shift; but as a series of practical responses. A program to solve a problem. An agency to manage complexity. A safeguard to reduce risk. Each step, viewed on its own, appeared reasonable… and many were responses to real, justifiable challenges.

Yet, while complexity may justify coordination, it does not justify the permanent transfer of responsibility. Over time, these responses accumulated into a new operating model.

Problems once handled locally were elevated; responsibilities once carried by individuals were absorbed by institutions; and decisions once made through active participation were replaced by automated processes.

As governance gave way to management, and management expanded into administration, the citizen’s role was quietly redefined. This shift eventually became more than just a philosophical change… it became a measurable, structural reality.

The Scale of the Shift

What began as targeted intervention has grown into a defining feature of modern life. Today, nearly 71 million Americans are enrolled in Social Security, while Medicaid coverage extends to over 68 million individuals. When combined with other programs, roughly one in five Americans receive some form of government assistance at any given time.

The critique here is not of the existence of a safety net. A compassionate society provides for its most vulnerable and ensures a baseline of dignity for its elderly.

The concern is the transition from a “safety net” to a “default framework.” When a significant portion of the population begins to view these institutional systems as their primary source of security rather than a supplemental backstop, the relationship between the citizen and the state is fundamentally altered. We have moved from a system that catches those who fall to one that manages those who stand.

This shift is exacerbated by the erosion of the “contributory” model. Historically, Americans distinguished between social insurance… like Social Security and Medicare, which require a lifetime of “paying in”, and social assistance, or income security.

While the former was viewed as a collective savings account for the industrious, the latter has roughly doubled as a share of the economy since 1975. Programs like SNAP, housing assistance, and refundable tax credits are non-contributory; they are funded by general tax revenue and accessed based on current need rather than past participation.

When a system moves from rewarding participation to merely administering provision, the psychological tie to “earned” citizenship is severed. The individual is no longer a stakeholder in a mutual insurance pact; they are a client of a needs-based bureaucracy.

The scale of this transition is staggering. In 1975, total mandatory government spending (excluding interest on the national debt) accounted for roughly 8.5% of GDP; today, that figure exceeds 18%.

While these programs address real needs and prevent genuine hardship, support that stabilizes is not the same as a system that substitutes.

This is not merely growth; it is a rebalancing of responsibility that recalibrates our internal compass. We do not just change how we are funded; we change how we think. This is the final transition from the agency of the participant to the reliance of the client.

The Logic of the Client System

A citizen operates from a position of agency; a client is a subject who must comply. This distinction is not merely about whether systems are used, but whether they become the default framework through which individuals understand their role.

In a citizen-centered system, you act first and answer for the results. In a client-centered system, you apply, request, qualify, and receive.

It is vital to distinguish the client of the state from the customer of a business.

A customer holds the ultimate power: the power of exit. If a service is poor, the customer takes their resources elsewhere. A client of a state system, however, is often a captive.

There is no competitor to the agency, no alternative to the process, and no escape from the bureaucracy. While a customer is a sovereign actor who chooses, a client is a subject who complies. The former is served; the latter is managed.

This shift in civic posture mirrors the rise of the Permission Society, but with a critical psychological difference. While the Permission Society dictates what you are allowed to do through external rules, the Client System dictates how you view yourself within those rules.

If the Permission Society is a fence that stops you from moving, the Client System is a crutch that makes you forget how to walk. It replaces the citizen’s default question of “What can I do?” with the client’s default expectation: “What is available to me?”

The Cultural Consequences

This transformation is not merely administrative; it is behavioral. Alexis de Tocqueville warned of this exact pattern nearly two centuries ago, describing a power that “covers the surface of society with a network of small, complicated rules… until the most original minds and the most energetic characters cannot penetrate it.” Crucially, he noted that such a system “does not break wills, but it softens, bends, and directs them.”

The rise of the client mindset produces four primary effects that erode the foundation of a republic:

1. The Outsourcing of Responsibility
As systems expand, individuals increasingly defer decisions upward. A 2023 Pew Research survey revealed a striking paradox: a majority of Americans believe the federal government should do more to solve major problems, even as trust in that same government remains at historic lows. Dependence grows even as confidence declines. In this model, responsibility does not disappear – it simply relocates upward.

2. The Atrophy of Civic Muscle
Self-governance is a skill that weakens without use. As Robert Putnam documented in Bowling Alone, the collapse of community-based engagement has tracked closely with the rise of institutional reliance. A republic designed for the active exercise of citizenship cannot survive a population whose civic muscles have atrophied through disuse.

3. The Expectation of Provision
In a client system, outcomes are viewed as services to be delivered rather than results to be pursued. Milton Friedman captured the danger of this shift: “A society that puts equality before freedom will get neither. A society that puts freedom before equality will get a high degree of both.” When outcomes are guaranteed by a system, individual initiative becomes optional.

4. The Redefinition of Rights
Perhaps most significantly, the nature of rights is redefined. In a citizen framework, rights are inherent and exercised; in a client framework, benefits are accessed and administered. James Madison famously warned against this expansion of federal authority, noting, “I cannot undertake to lay my finger on that article of the Constitution which granted a right to Congress of expending… for the general welfare.” When rights become mere claims on a system, the state becomes the final arbiter of access.

The Cycle of Dependence

The transition from citizen to client was not a one-time event; it was a self-reinforcing cycle. As dependency increased, the demand for more expansive systems grew alongside it. In the process, individual accountability contracted and the inherent capacity for self-governance began to decline.

This erosion of civic agency then became the justification for further institutional expansion… creating a loop where what began as targeted support eventually became a permanent substitute.

The Cycle of Dependence:

1. Increased Dependency: Reliance on a system became the baseline.

2. Expanding Demand: As the baseline shifted, expectations for the system grew.

3. Contracting Accountability: Individual responsibility was deferred to the institution.

4. Declining Agency: The skills of self-governance weakened through disuse.

5. Justified Expansion: This weakened state invited further administrative management.

The Structural Reality

When viewed alongside the previous papers in this series, a clear and sobering pattern emerges. We have witnessed a systematic dismantling of the traditional American posture:

• Governance became Management.

• Management became Administration.

• Action became conditioned on Permission.

The final stage of this evolution is the most personal: the Citizen has been reframed as a Client within the system itself. This is no longer just a shift in how our government functions; it is a shift in who we are.

The Core Question

Every system produces a specific type of person. The American system was designed to produce citizens… individuals of independent character and active agency.

We must now ask: What kind of person does our current system produce?

And more importantly: Can a society of clients sustain a republic designed for citizens?

Closing Reflection: The Choice of the Citizen

The transition from citizen to client was rarely enforced; it was accepted. It accumulated through a long series of quiet surrenders, where we chose to defer rather than to decide, to request rather than to act, and to rely rather than build.

While these choices probably seemed rational for us as individuals in the moment, their collective weight has reshaped the character of our nation.

Our republic does not require perfect citizens, but it does require active ones.

The Publius Project was founded to restore our republic, but the work of restoration does not begin in the halls of Washington. It begins in the mirror. If the Client System thrives on our passivity, it can only be dismantled by our participation. We must stop asking, “What is available to me?” and start asking, “What is required of me?”

In the coming papers, I will move from diagnosis to action, outlining the structural reforms necessary to transition from a managed society back to a self-governing one.

Yet, these reforms can only succeed if they are met by a people ready to inhabit them… citizens who would rather bear the weight of their own responsibilities than the hollow comfort of a bureaucrat’s crutch.

The Restoration starts with the decision to be a participant once more.

Time for Reconsideration

Thomas Jefferson’s warning now feels less like theory and more like a diagnosis: “The natural progress of things is for liberty to yield, and government to gain ground.”

The question is no longer whether these systems will grow because they have – and they will continue to. The question is whether we as American citizens will shrink alongside them.

Structural reform alone cannot restore a free society; it requires a cultural turn back toward ownership, participation, and self-direction.

Ultimately, a system reflects the posture of its people. A society that views itself as dependent will inevitably build systems that reinforce that dependency.

To the Founders, a “safety net” was a trampoline… a temporary tool designed to bounce the citizen back into the arena of life. Today, we have replaced the trampoline with a hammock, and we should not be surprised that so many of us have fallen asleep in it.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

At what point did everyday life start requiring permission?

Not permission to do something wrong.
Permission to do something normal.

To build.
To change.
To act.

Most people didn’t notice when that shift happened.

Because it didn’t arrive all at once.

It developed gradually… through systems, processes, and expectations that reshaped how we think.

Over time, something subtle changed.

We stopped asking:

“Is this right?”

And we started asking:

“Am I allowed?”

That question might seem small.

But it signals something much larger.

A shift from a society built on responsibility…
to one increasingly built on permission.

In Episode 6 of The Defiant Citizen, we explore how that shift happens… and what it means for a self-governing people.

Listen Here

If this resonates, follow along. It’s free and we’re still building.

It erodes – quietly – when citizens begin to think like clients.

Restoration Paper No. 6 identified this shift: the slow transformation of the American participant into an administrative client. But if dependency is the lock, individual responsibility is the key. To be a citizen in a Republic is not a legal status to be maintained; it is a moral posture to be practiced.

This manifesto does not advance a legal theory or reject the rule of law. It advances something far older and more demanding: the idea that the individual is the primary bearer of responsibility in a free society.

1. The Seat of Authority: You

The American experiment was founded on a radical inversion of power. In a monarchy, authority flows down from the crown. In our Republic, authority – and therefore responsibility – resides in the individual.

Being a “good citizen” starts with the realization that YOU are the primary governor of your own life.

This means:

• Self-Direction: The central question is not “What is the system providing for me?”, the sovereign citizen asks, “What can I build, solve, or sustain today?”

• The Pursuit of Excellence: As the Founders noted, a Republic requires a virtuous people. This virtue is not mere compliance with law – it is the personal discipline to be honest in dealings, faithful to family, and diligent in work.

Freedom without discipline decays into dependence.

2. The Duty to be Informed

A client needs only to understand the rules of the program.

A citizen must understand the mechanics of liberty.

• Truth-Seeking: Citizenship demands the habit of inquiry – seeking facts over narratives, and engaging in reasoned debate rather than passive consumption.

• Civic Literacy: Responsibility requires knowledge of the Constitution you are asked to defend. Rights unrecognized cannot be exercised. Duties unknown cannot be fulfilled.

As James Madison warned, “Liberty depends not only in the structure of government, but on the character and vigilance of the people themselves.”

3. Radical Localism: Exercising the “Civic Muscle”

Individual responsibility is not isolation… it is participation at the level where action matters most.

The most effective way to resist the Client System is to solve problems close to home.

• Act Without Permission: Do not wait for a program, grant, or directive to improve your surroundings. Clean the park. Mentor the neighbor. Support the local business. These are not small acts… they are the foundation of self-governance.

• Strengthening Ties: Communities built on trust and familiarity generate resilience. A neighborhood that maintains its own spaces, supports its own families, and looks after its own safety becomes far less dependent on distant institutions.

Self-government begins where you stand.

4. The Price of Liberty: Ownership of Outcomes

The hallmark of a client is the outsourcing of consequences. When something goes wrong, the client looks for a manager to blame. The citizen does the opposite.

As Ronald Reagan observed, “Government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem.”

This is not an argument for the absence of government, but a reminder that no system can substitute for personal responsibility.

• Personal Accountability: The education of your children, the condition of your community, your physical wellbeing and health, and your financial future are not abstract responsibilities – they are yours.

• Virtuous Initiative: Freedom creates the space to act. Character supplies the reason. A society that prioritizes freedom over enforced equality will find that individual initiative is what produces shared prosperity.

Liberty is not maintained by entitlement. It is sustained by ownership.

5. From Dependency to Ownership: The Practice of Liberty

Liberty is not a condition granted by institutions.
It is a discipline cultivated by individuals.

To move from dependency to ownership requires daily, deliberate action:

The Sovereign Citizen’s Daily Checklist

1. Practice the “Action First” Rule
   Before seeking external solutions, ask: What can I do right now with what I have?
   Goal: Replace requesting with initiating.

2. Reclaim Your Information Streams
   Spend time with primary sources… original documents, raw data, foundational texts.
   Goal: Become a judge of facts, not a consumer of narratives.

3. Perform One Uncommissioned Civic Act
   Identify a local need and act without being asked or compensated.
   Goal: Reinforce that community health is a personal responsibility.

4. Audit Your “Permission” Mindset
   Notice when hesitation is driven by habit rather than law – and act accordingly.
   Goal: Reduce unnecessary deference to systems.

5. Take Outcome Ownership
   At the end of each day, identify one outcome you could have influenced more directly.
   Goal: Return responsibility to its proper place… yourself.

6. Invest in Local Resilience
   Choose local relationships and providers whenever possible.
   Goal: Build horizontal networks that reduce reliance on centralized systems.

7. Master One Skill of Self-Sufficiency
   Learn to fix, build, grow, or manage something you previously outsourced.
   Goal: Reduce your dependency footprint.

Closing Reflection: The Choice

Every morning, we choose who we will be:
a client of the system, or a citizen of a Republic.

One path is comfortable, passive, and increasingly fragile.
The other is demanding, active, and the only foundation upon which a free society can endure.

The restoration of America will not begin in a voting booth or a legislative chamber.
It begins with a single individual choosing to take responsibility – for their life, their family, and their community.

And then another.
And another.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

The Constitution did not emerge in a vacuum—it was the product of debate, philosophy, and hard-earned experience. The works below represent the arguments, principles, and economic ideas that shaped the American founding and continue to influence the conversation around liberty today.

How to Use This List

If you’re new to these ideas, start here:

1. The Federalist Papers + Anti-Federalists

2. The Law + Economics in One Lesson

3. Plain, Honest Men

4. America’s Constitution: A Biography

If you’re going deeper:

5. Bailyn + Wood

6. Hayek + Friedman

7. Rothbard + Boaz

I. The Founding Debate (Primary Sources)

The Federalist Papers — by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, John Jay

The definitive defense of the Constitution—explaining structure, intent, and the dangers it was designed to prevent.

The Anti-Federalist Papers — by Patrick Henry and others

A critical counterpoint warning of centralized power and the risks of consolidated government.

II. Intellectual Foundations of the Founding

The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution — by Bernard Bailyn

Explores the philosophical roots of liberty, tyranny, and resistance.

The Creation of the American Republic, 1776–1787 — by Gordon S. Wood

A deep dive into how revolutionary ideas evolved into constitutional structure.

III. The Constitution in Formation

Plain, Honest Men — by Richard Beeman

A narrative account of the Constitutional Convention and the personalities behind it.

The Framing of the Constitution — by Max Farrand

A detailed, source-based look at how the Constitution was constructed.

IV. Understanding & Interpreting the Constitution

Original Meanings — by Jack N. Rakove

Examines competing interpretations among the Founders themselves.

America’s Constitution: A Biography — by Akhil Reed Amar

A sweeping narrative connecting the founding to modern constitutional meaning.

The Heritage Guide to the Constitution — by The Heritage Foundation

A clause-by-clause reference grounded in founding debates.

Writings of Antonin Scalia

A modern articulation of originalism and constitutional interpretation.

V. Liberty & Limited Government (Libertarian Foundations)

The Road to Serfdom — by Friedrich A. Hayek

A warning against centralized control and the erosion of freedom.

Economics in One Lesson — by Henry Hazlitt

A clear explanation of economic thinking rooted in individual liberty.

The Law — by Frédéric Bastiat

A concise argument for natural rights and limited government.

For a New Liberty — by Murray Rothbard

A comprehensive case for libertarian political philosophy.

The Libertarian Mind — by David Boaz

A modern overview of libertarian ideas and principles.

Free to Choose — by Milton Friedman

Applies free-market principles to real-world policy.

What It Means to Be a Libertarian — by Charles Murray

A practical and accessible guide to libertarian thinking.

Anatomy of the State — by Murray Rothbard

A sharp critique of state power and its incentives.

Radicals for Capitalism — by Brian Doherty

A history of the libertarian movement and its evolution.

Atlas Shrugged — by Ayn Rand

A philosophical novel exploring individualism, production, and freedom.

VI. Foundational Influences (Before the Constitution)

The Spirit of the Laws — by Montesquieu

A major influence on separation of powers and constitutional design.

Second Treatise of Government — by John Locke

The philosophical backbone of natural rights and consent of the governed.

Common Sense — by Thomas Paine

The spark that helped ignite the American Revolution.

VII. Early Observations of the American Experiment

Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States — by Joseph Story

One of the earliest comprehensive explanations of the Constitution written by a Supreme Court Justice (1833).

A View of the Constitution of the United States — by St. George Tucker

Published in 1803, this is one of the first constitutional law treatises in America.
Offers a near-contemporary perspective on how the Constitution was originally understood in practice.

Democracy in America — by Alexis de Tocqueville

A timeless analysis of American political culture, liberty, and civic life.

This list is not exhaustive. It is a starting point.

The ideas that shaped the American founding and the principles that sustain a free society are deeper and broader than any single collection of works. Readers are encouraged to explore beyond this list, to question, to compare, and to continue building their understanding of liberty.

A free society depends on an informed people. These works are not just history, they are a guide to understanding, preserving, and restoring liberty.

To some, it is treated as a fixed and sacred inheritance… complete in its wisdom, beyond critique, and to be preserved without alteration. To others, it is viewed as a pliable instrument, its meaning contingent, its structure adaptable, and its form subject to the demands of present necessity.

Both views, though opposite in their conclusions, share a common defect.

Neither treats the Constitution as what it is.

It is not merely an artifact of history, nor is it an open canvas for perpetual revision. It is a structure… deliberate in its design, restrained in its grant of power, and ordered toward the preservation of liberty through the careful distribution of authority.

It is, above all, a system.

And like any system, its strength lies not only in its principles, but in the integrity of its design.

On the Neglect of Structure

The political questions of our time are most often framed in terms of policy.

What should be enacted.
What should be prohibited.
What should be funded, regulated, or reformed.

These are not trivial concerns. But they are secondary ones.

For policy is the product of power and power is the product of structure.

If the structure of government is ill-formed, no accumulation of wise policies can correct it. If it is well-ordered, even imperfect measures may be restrained within proper bounds.

This was not an incidental insight among the Framers. It was their starting point.

As James Madison observed, the great difficulty of government lies in this: “You must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself.”

This obligation was not entrusted to virtue alone. It was embedded in design.

On Drift and Its Consequences

No constitutional system remains static.

Over time, through amendment, interpretation, and practice, the operation of government evolves. Some changes are corrective, addressing genuine defects or unforeseen circumstances. Others arise less from necessity than from convenience or impatience.

But whether deliberate or gradual, such changes are rarely considered in their totality.

They are adopted in parts, while their effects are felt across the whole.

The result is not a restructured system, but a system that has drifted… its original balances altered, its distinctions blurred, and its internal restraints, in some cases, diminished.

Institutions once designed to check one another may come to operate in parallel. Mechanisms intended to divide authority may, over time, consolidate it. The layers of federalism, once clearly defined, may become increasingly indistinct in practice.

This series of articles proceeds from a simple recognition:

Structural drift, left unexamined, tends toward consolidation.

And consolidation, however gradual, tends toward the erosion of liberty.

On the Purpose of These Articles

The Constitutional Articles of the Publius Project are not written in a spirit of revision for its own sake, nor in pursuit of novelty.

They are written in the conviction that a system so carefully constructed deserves to be carefully examined.

Their purpose is threefold.

First, to recover a clear understanding of original design, not as an exercise in reverence, but as a necessary point of reference. One cannot evaluate a structure without first understanding the purpose for which it was built.

Second, to assess the present operation of that structure. Not in abstraction, but in practice, through the incentives it creates, the behaviors it rewards, and the balance of power it produces.

Third, where deficiencies are found, to propose reforms that are both limited and precise. Not sweeping alterations, but targeted corrections, aimed not at remaking the system, but at restoring its equilibrium.

Each proposal will be measured against a single standard:

Does this reform preserve the division of power, or does it contribute to its concentration?

On the Nature of Constitutional Change

There exists a natural caution, and rightly so, regarding any effort to alter the Constitution.

It has endured where others have failed. It has provided stability across generations. It has accommodated growth without surrendering its essential form.

Such durability commands respect.

But it does not command stagnation.

The inclusion of an amendment process within the Constitution itself reflects an understanding that no human design is beyond refinement. The question, therefore, is not whether change is permissible, but under what discipline it is undertaken.

Change, pursued without regard to structure, invites disorder.
Change, guided by principle, may restore it.

The distinction is not procedural, it is philosophical.

On What This Series Does Not Seek to Do

It is necessary, at the outset, to state clearly what these articles do not propose.

They do not seek to discard the American constitutional order.
They do not seek to substitute one form of central authority for another.
They do not advance reform as an end in itself.

They proceed, rather, from a more modest aim:

To understand the system as it was designed, to observe it as it now operates, and where the two have diverged in ways that weaken its function, to consider whether restoration is both possible and prudent.

Not every perceived flaw requires amendment. Not every political frustration warrants structural change.

But where structural deficiencies exist, they cannot be remedied by policy alone.

They must be addressed at the level at which they arise.

On Method

Each article in this series will follow a consistent course of inquiry:

• To identify the constitutional provision or institution under consideration

• To examine its original purpose and design

• To assess its present function within the broader system

• To identify points of divergence and their consequences

• To propose, where appropriate, a limited and specific reform

This method is not intended to produce rapid conclusions, but disciplined ones.

For in matters of constitutional structure, haste is seldom a virtue.

A Concluding Observation

A free society does not depend upon the constancy of those who govern it.

It depends upon the structure within which they govern.

The Constitution was framed with this understanding… that power, left unchecked, does not remain confined; that authority, once consolidated, is seldom relinquished; and that liberty is preserved not by assumption, but by design.

If that design is neglected, liberty will diminish, not abruptly, but gradually, through accumulation rather than decree.

If it is restored, the effects may be equally gradual, but no less profound.

These articles are offered in that spirit.

Not as final answers, but as a disciplined inquiry into the structure of a republic and the conditions necessary for its endurance.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins | Libertas
The Publius Project

This was not the original design.

The ratification of the Seventeenth Amendment did more than change how Senators are selected… it changed who they serve. In doing so, it altered the structural balance of the American republic.

The Senate was not intended to represent the people directly. It was intended to represent the States as sovereign political societies.

As James Madison wrote in Federalist No. 62, the Senate would derive its authority from “the States, as political and coequal societies.” That distinction was not procedural, it was foundational.

By removing state legislatures from the selection process, we did not simply reform the Senate. We severed one of the Constitution’s primary safeguards of federalism.

From Representation to Consolidation

The Seventeenth Amendment emerged during the Progressive Era, driven by legitimate concerns: legislative deadlocks, corruption scandals, and a growing national appetite for direct democracy. Reformers believed that popular election would purify the Senate.

But structural changes carry structural consequences.

In bypassing state legislatures, the amendment weakened the institutional link between the federal government and the states themselves. Senators were no longer accountable to the governments whose authority they were meant to defend. Instead, they became responsive to national coalitions, party structures, and increasingly, out-of-state funding networks.

The result was not merely a different selection method, it was a different Senate.

We traded a federal chamber for a national one.

Restoring the Constitutional Anchor

The Constitution originally provided:

“The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof…”

This design created a dual system of representation:

• The House spoke for the people

• The Senate spoke for the States

Together, they formed a structural check on centralized power.

Returning to this model would reestablish that balance. Senators would once again be institutionally accountable to their state governments, serving as representatives of state sovereignty rather than national political actors.

This is not a rejection of democracy, it is a restoration of constitutional design. The American system was never meant to maximize direct democracy. It was designed to divide power, channel it, and restrain it.

A republic cannot endure if every institution answers to the same voice.

The Restoration Framework

Structural problems require structural solutions. Restoring the Senate’s original purpose demands more than repeal… it requires a coherent framework of reform.

1. Repeal the Seventeenth Amendment

The first step is the most essential. Repealing the Seventeenth Amendment would restore the authority of state legislatures to select Senators, reestablishing the Senate as a body representing sovereign states rather than national electorates.

2. Establish Term Limits

To prevent the entrenchment of a permanent political class, Senators should be limited to a maximum of twelve years of service.

Proponents, including research from the Heritage Foundation, argue that term limits reduce incumbency advantages and encourage legislative turnover. Critics counter that such limits may weaken institutional knowledge and shift influence toward unelected actors.

Both concerns are valid. But the current system, where tenure often spans decades, has created a governing class increasingly removed from the citizens it serves. A twelve-year limit strikes a balance between experience and renewal.

3. Enable State Recall Authority

Under the current system, states lack any direct mechanism to remove a Senator who abandons their mandate mid-term.

A constitutional amendment should grant state legislatures the authority to recall their Senators, according to laws established within each state.

This would restore continuous accountability, ensuring that a Senator’s primary loyalty remains with the state they represent, not a national party or donor network.

4. Strengthen Qualifications for Office

The Senate was designed to be a deliberative body of experienced leadership. Yet current requirements are minimal: age 30, nine years of citizenship, and residency at the time of election.

A reformed Senate should adopt higher standards:

• Minimum age: 40

• Natural-born U.S. citizenship

• At least 10 years of residency within the state

These changes would ensure that Senators possess both maturity and a sustained connection to the communities they represent, reducing the risk of opportunistic candidacies and “political tourism.”

5. Preserve Continuity in Vacancies

To maintain uninterrupted representation, governors should retain the authority, where permitted by state law, to make temporary appointments in the event of a vacancy.

However, these appointments must remain strictly interim. The permanent selection authority must rest with the state legislature, preserving the constitutional balance while ensuring no state is left without a voice.

Addressing the Objections

Critics of this approach raise familiar concerns.

“State legislatures are just as partisan and corrupt.”
Perhaps. But the question is not whether politics can be purified… it cannot. The question is where power is best constrained. Diffusing authority across multiple layers of government is more stable than concentrating it at the national level.

“Direct election increases democratic legitimacy.”
The Constitution was not designed to maximize democracy. It was designed to balance it. Federalism, separation of powers, and indirect representation were deliberate safeguards against the consolidation of authority.

“Term limits weaken institutions.”
They can. But so can indefinite tenure. The goal is not perfection… it is equilibrium.

A Return to Federalism

The crisis of modern governance is, at its core, a crisis of scale.

As power has accumulated in Washington, the states have receded… not in theory, but in practice. The Seventeenth Amendment accelerated that shift by removing one of the last institutional mechanisms through which states could directly influence federal power.

Restoring the Senate is not about nostalgia. It is about structure.

It is about reestablishing a system in which different institutions answer to different constituencies, creating friction where friction is necessary, and restraint where restraint is essential.

The Senate was designed to be that restraint.

A republic cannot survive if every institution answers to the same voice. The Senate was meant to answer to a different one… the States.

It is time we let it speak again.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins | Libertas
The Publius Project

Bibliography

Primary Constitutional Documents

• Constitution of the United States, Article I, Section 3

• Constitution of the United States, Amendment XVII

Research & Policy Analysis

• Heritage Foundation — The Case for Congressional Term Limits

• Congressional Research Service — Natural Born Citizen Requirement

Legislative & Historical Records

• United States Senate — Constitutional Qualifications for Senators

• United States Congress — Senate Vacancies and the Seventeenth Amendment

• Supreme Court decision: U.S. Term Limits, Inc. v. Thornton

To My Fellow Americans,

Here in America, we are living through a quiet revolution that nobody voted for, yet it has fundamentally changed our way of life.

For most of our history, the default setting of our society was freedom of action, but today, it is conditional permission.

In today’s America, you don’t just act, you have to ask.

• You do not build… without approval.

• You do not work… without certification.

• You do not open… without inspection.

• You do not operate… without compliance.

And increasingly, the answer depends on someone else.

We have moved from a society that punishes actual harm to one that regulates potential risk into exhaustion.

The Original Assumption: Freedom First

The original assumption was very simple: You are free to act unless your actions violate someone else’s rights.

The government’s role was reactive – meaning it stepped in to address harm after it occurred. You didn’t need a license to practice a trade or a permit to use your own land; you simply held yourself accountable for the results.

This distinction is everything as it defines who holds authority first: The citizen…or the system.

Today, a new logic has taken hold: “What is not approved is not allowed.” This wasn’t a sudden takeover; it was a slow accumulation of “reasonable safeguards” that eventually reshaped the system itself.

When every sector of life, from occupational licensing to small business compliance, is conditioned on permits and approvals, the system holds more authority than the citizen.

The Rise of the Permission Structure

The “Permission Society” operates on a subtle shift in governance: the transition from a default of freedom to a default of conditional allowance. This structure emerged incrementally through a series of “reasonable safeguards” and administrative requirements that, over time, transformed exceptions into the standard operating procedure.

Today, this web of permission affects several core areas of daily life:

• Labor: Occupational licensing requirements now govern a significant portion of the workforce, determining who may legally practice certain trades.

• Property: Real estate development and home improvements are subject to extensive local zoning and permitting processes.

• Commerce: Small businesses must navigate a complex landscape of local, state, and federal compliance regimes to remain operational.

• Services: Personal trust is increasingly replaced by formal, third-party certifications and regulatory seals of approval.

While individual regulations are often introduced as solutions to specific problems, their cumulative effect creates a “regulatory thicket” so dense it often takes months or even years, in come cases, to navigate. This overlapping stack of mandates effectively shifts the burden of proof onto the citizen, requiring prior authorization for actions that were previously self-directed.

The Logic Behind It

“Those who would give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.” – Benjamin Franklin, 1755

Proponents of licensing and regulatory systems argue that these measures protect consumers, ensure quality, and reduce risk, particularly in complex or high-stakes industries. But when applied broadly across ordinary economic activity, this logic shifts the burden of action from the citizen to the system.

The “Permission Society” is rooted in the principle of preemptive harm prevention. While designed to enhance safety, this framework fundamentally alters the relationship between the individual and the state by shifting from a model of post-action accountability to one of prior authorization.

This shift introduces several systemic consequences:

• Economic Stagnation: Innovation is constrained when new ideas require external approval before implementation, often leading to artificial scarcity and increased operational costs.

• Centralized Control: Initiative is transferred from the individual to gatekeepers who determine the timing and conditions of allowed actions.

• Risk Displacement: Rather than eliminating risk, these structures often consolidate it. The responsibility of the individual is replaced by the systemic fragility of a centralized regulatory body.

Ultimately, the trade-off is reduced individual autonomy. By making “permission” the default starting point, the system prioritizes administrative control over the personal initiative typically found in a self-directed society.

The Hidden Costs

The cost of this system is not just economic, it is structural.

1. Barriers to Entry: Today, nearly one in four Americans require a government license to do their job – an increase of more than 20% since the 1950’s. This means that a system once reserved for a narrow set of professions now governs a significant portion of the workforce. Starting a small business now can involve dozens of permits and regulatory steps, often taking months before operations can begin. This favors large corporations that can afford compliance teams, while crushing the individual entrepreneur.

2. The False Sense of Safety: The system promises to eliminate risk, but it actually just transfers it. It creates artificial scarcity and higher costs while slowing down our ability to adapt to new challenges.

3. Erosion of Initiative: When people have to ask for permission for everything, they eventually stop trying. The process itself becomes a deterrent to innovation.

From Citizen to Applicant

The most dangerous change is cultural. We are no longer treated as self-governing citizens; we are treated as applicants. We are conditioned to submit, wait, and be evaluated. Over time, this changes our behavior. We stop thinking, “I have the right to do this,” and start thinking, “I should probably check if I’m allowed.”

Restoration: Reversing the Default

“Still one thing more, fellow-citizens—a wise and frugal Government, which shall restrain men from injuring one another, shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned.” - Thomas Jefferson’s first inaugural address, March 4, 1801.

To restore the balance, we don’t need to burn the rulebook, we need to flip it. We must reclaim the original American principle: Freedom first. Accountability second.

This is a battle for our default settings. We must replace the “must be approved” sign and with a simple truth: You are allowed to act unless you cause harm. We have traded the responsibility for our outcomes for the permission to begin and that is a losing trade. It is time to replace the gatekeeper with the open door.

The path back is clear:

• Remove the pointless licenses that guard ordinary work.

• Simplify the red tape that turns a simple permit into a year-long siege.

• Protect the small operator from the compliance weight meant for giants.

• Look for actual harm, rather than policing the mere ghost of potential risk.

We don’t need a system that pre-clears our lives; we need a society that trusts its citizens to build, then holds them to account if they break the peace.

The Core Question

Make no mistake: this isn’t a debate about paperwork. It is a battle for authority.

The question is as old as our nation itself: Who owns the right to your next move? Do you… or does the system?

The moment we accept that we must ask before we act, we have already lost. In that moment, freedom ceases to be a birthright and becomes a favor. It is no longer something you possess; it is something you are granted.

And what the state can grant, the state can take away.

Time For Choosing

The Permission Society didn’t arrive with a grand announcement; like everything else discussed in previous Restoration Papers, it quietly took root through a series of “reasonable” compromises. It was built incrementally, piece by piece, layered by systems originally designed to help us, until those very solutions began to reshape the boundaries of our daily lives.

The conversation is no longer about whether we need rules because most of us agree that we do. The real question is more fundamental: Has the act of seeking permission quietly become our new starting point?

We’ve reached a moment where we must reexamine the systems meant to serve us. It’s time to consider whether we are comfortable with a world where our default state is “waiting for approval,” or if we want to reclaim the personal initiative that defines a truly free society.

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

We spend a lot of time talking about the rules that shape our lives.

What laws were passed.
What policies changed.
What decisions are coming next.

But there’s a deeper question that most people never stop to ask:

Where did those rules actually come from?

Not the headlines.
Not the debates.

The system behind them.

The Shift Most People Feel but Can’t Name

At some point, almost everyone has had a moment like this:

You run into a rule… a requirement… a restriction… and something about it doesn’t sit right.

You try to trace it back.

You look for a law.
You look for a vote.
You look for a person.

But instead… you find something else.

An agency.
A process.
A system.

And no clear way to follow it back to a name on a ballot.

That moment of confusion isn’t random.

It’s a signal.

The System Didn’t Replace the Republic

That’s the part that makes this difficult to see.

The system didn’t arrive all at once.
And it didn’t replace what was there.

It evolved alongside it.

The Constitution is still there.
Congress still exists.
Elections still happen.

But over time, something shifted.

The visible structure remained.
The operational control moved.

How It Happened

In this week’s episode, we break that shift down into four key moments:

• An idea: separating politics from administration in the name of efficiency

• A crisis: expanding agencies to respond quickly when process felt too slow

• A legal framework: allowing those agencies to interpret the laws they enforce

• A transition to permanence: where the system stopped being temporary and became the default

None of these steps, on their own, felt like a turning point.

But together… they built something new.

A system that doesn’t just enforce rules.

It produces them.

What That Means in Practice

Today, most people don’t experience government through legislation.

They experience it through systems.

Systems that:

• fill in the details of broad laws

• enforce those details

• and often interpret disputes about them

In theory, those powers are separate.

In practice… they’re often concentrated.

And when that happens, something subtle changes.

Not necessarily what the rules are.

But how accountable they are.

The Moment It Becomes Real

This isn’t just theory.

There are real people who have experienced this shift directly.

Homeowners.
Small business owners.
Farmers.

People who receive a notice… a directive… a requirement…

And when they try to understand it, they don’t find a clear line back to a decision they can influence.

They find a system.

One that operates with real authority… but limited visibility.

Why This Matters

This isn’t about whether rules should exist.

Every functioning society has rules.

And it’s not about whether expertise matters.

It does.

The question is simpler and more important:

Who ultimately decides?

Because in a republic, the answer is supposed to be:

The people.

Through representation.
Through accountability.
Through a system they can see and influence.

When that connection weakens, the structure doesn’t disappear.

It just changes character.

Listen to the Episode

This week’s episode of The Defiant Citizen explores this in detail:

🎧 Episode 5: The Rise of the Administrative State – The System Behind the System

It’s not just about the rules.

It’s about how they came to be—and what that means for the system we’re living under today.

[Listen here →]

Final Thought

Most people don’t notice the system.

Because it doesn’t announce itself.

It doesn’t campaign.
It doesn’t debate.
It doesn’t ask for your vote.

It just operates.

Until you start asking where it came from.

And once you do…

You start seeing it everywhere.

If This Resonates

If this is the kind of conversation you want more of, follow along here on Substack.

It’s free—and we’re just getting started.

To My Fellow Americans,

No system transforms overnight; it evolves quietly until the unrecognizable feels normal. The administrative state did not replace the American system in a single moment. It emerged incrementally…first as an experiment, then as a response to crisis, and finally as the permanent machinery of modern governance.

The First Shift: From Politics to Administration

This transformation began not as a law, but as an idea.

In the late nineteenth century, as America industrialized, a belief took hold that the deliberate processes of republican governance…debate, compromise, and accountability, were too cumbersome for a modern age.

Foremost among these reformers was future president, Woodrow Wilson. In his 1887 essay, The Study of Administration, Wilson proposed a fundamental divorce in government: Politics would set the goals, while Administration, a sphere “removed from the hurry and strife of politics,” would execute them through expert management.

This was a quiet revolution. Governance was no longer a process rooted primarily in public consent, but a technical function to be managed by a professional class. Its first institutional anchor was the Interstate Commerce Commission (1887), the first federal agency empowered to oversee an entire economic sector.

What began as oversight soon became the blueprint for the modern state.

The Second Shift: Crisis and Expansion

If ideas create possibilities, crisis creates momentum.

The Great Depression transformed administrative governance from a theoretical experiment into a national necessity. Under Franklin D. Roosevelt, the New Deal rapidly expanded the federal government’s scope, moving beyond market stabilization to the management of entire economic sectors.

The creation of the Securities and Exchange Commission, the National Labor Relations Board, and the Social Security Administration signaled a profound structural change. These institutions were granted authority not merely to enforce laws, but to define and interpret them. For the first time, the federal government became a continuous regulatory presence in American life…not as a temporary adjustment, but as a permanent structural transformation.

The Third Shift: Legal and Constitutional Permission

Expansion alone does not create permanence; it must be ratified by law.

Though the courts initially resisted the New Deal, that defiance was short-lived. In 1942, the Supreme Court decided Wickard v. Filburn, ruling that even local, non-commercial activity could be federally regulated if its aggregate effect touched the national economy. By redefining “commerce” so broadly, the Court removed one of the final practical limits on federal regulatory scope, leaving the reach of administrative agencies functionally unbounded.

This era of expansion was soon institutionalized by the Administrative Procedure Act of 1946, which provided the formal framework for agency rulemaking and enforcement. For decades, this structure was further anchored by “Chevron deference,” a judicial doctrine that required courts to defer to an agency’s own interpretation of ambiguous laws…effectively granting the administrative state the power to define the limits of its own authority.

However, the foundation has recently cracked. In 2024, the Supreme Court’s decision in Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo ended the era of deference. By restoring the duty of the courts to “say what the law is,” this ruling represents the first significant challenge to administrative power since the New Deal, forcing a fundamental reconsideration of how much authority can be constitutionally delegated to unelected experts.

The Fourth Shift: The Permanent System

By the late twentieth century, administrative governance had become the American default.

With the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, and the Department of Education, federal authority expanded into nearly every dimension of daily life. Congress increasingly favored broad, aspirational statutes, leaving the granular rules that govern society to be developed by the agencies themselves.

Today, the federal regulatory code spans tens of thousands of pages. Though these rules carry the force of law, they are rarely the product of legislative debate. Instead, they are drafted by specialists and enforced through institutional mechanisms largely insulated from electoral accountability.

What began as a tool has become the system.

Complexity, however, does not grant a waiver from the Constitution. While modern society requires technical expertise to inform our laws, expertise is no substitute for the consent of the governed.

We have confused the role of the advisor with that of the ruler. In a Republic, experts may provide the data, but the people’s representatives must provide the decree. To allow a professional class to both draft the rule and enforce it is to trade our status as citizens for that of subjects in a managed state.

The Structural Reality

The administrative state did not arise from a single decree, but through a calculated sequence: a belief in expert management, a crisis justifying expansion, judicial permission, and decades of institutional normalization. The common thread through every shift, from Wilson’s theories to the New Deal’s response, is the erosion of traceable authority.

In the original American design, a citizen could trace every rule back to a representative subject to the ballot. Today, that line of accountability has been obscured by a web of procedures. We have traded the “hurry and strife” of politics for the quiet permanence of the bureau, moving from a system of public consent to one of technical management.

Each step appeared reasonable in isolation, but together, they produced a system fundamentally different from our founding design.

The evolution was not a series of radical ruptures, but a sequence of pragmatic adaptations…each defended as a sensible solution to a modern problem. Yet the cumulative result was a slow-motion migration of power away from the transparent process of representation and into the opaque machinery of administration.

This is not a question of intent, but of structure.

The debate is not over the desirability of clean air or stable markets, but whether a free people should have their lives shaped by rules they did not write and officials they cannot fire.

While Congress retains the power to fund or theoretically override an agency, oversight is not authorship.

By shifting from authors to overseers, Congress has traded its constitutional duty for political convenience, leaving the citizen to navigate a world of rules that no elected official ever actually wrote.

The Founders’ Warning

Long before the administrative state took form, Thomas Jefferson observed in 1788 that the ‘natural progress of things is for liberty to yield, and government to gain ground’…a progress the Constitution was explicitly designed to arrest.

In Federalist No. 51, James Madison argued that “ambition must be made to counteract ambition” through a strict separation of powers. They did not merely fear the size of government; they feared its concentration.

They understood that when the powers to write, enforce, and interpret the law are held in the same hands, liberty is lost. Today, the administrative state functions essentially as a “Fourth Branch” that frequently performs all three roles at once; effectively bypassing the “auxiliary precautions” built to protect the citizen.

This was not a prediction of sudden tyranny, but a recognition of a quieter, more corrosive process.

It is a progression where power accumulates gradually, justified by necessity, until it becomes the default condition.

The administrative state reflects this reality: not a deliberate abandonment of the Constitution, but the cumulative result of generations choosing convenience over constitutional structure.

The Consequence

The result is a system where governance no longer operates through representation, but through administration. Though the citizen and the election remain, the connection between the ballot and the rules of daily life has been severed. Authority has not disappeared; it has relocated beyond the reach of the electorate, fundamentally altering the character of our system.

Critics contend that the system has merely adapted…that as long as Congress sits, the Republic survives. But a Republic is not defined by its architecture; it is defined by the source of its authority.

When agencies produce nearly twenty rules for every single law passed by our elected

representatives, the system has not adapted; it has been bypassed.

The institutions of the Founders retain the appearance of representation, while the primary pulse of American governance now beats within the administrative machinery.

The Question for the Republic

If the administrative state is now the primary engine of American governance, a fundamental question emerges: Can a system built on representation endure when its rulemaking occurs outside of it? Or more simply: Can a Republic remain a Republic when its laws are dictated by institutions the people cannot control?

Restoration is not a retreat into the past, but a return to responsibility. It begins by reclaiming the legislative heart: Congress must cease passing vague aspirations and resume writing specific laws. It requires judicial courage to ensure that courts, not agencies, remain the final arbiters of legal meaning. And it demands structural transparency—specifically, a REINS approach that requires elected representatives to affirmatively approve any administrative rule with a major economic impact before it carries the force of law.

To restore the Republic, we must reconnect the power of the state to the consent of the governed. Once governance becomes mere management, a society is born where permission replaces presumption—and the citizen’s right to act is no longer inherent but granted.

The Choice Before Us

This transition from presumption to permission was not the result of a single moment of abandonment, but the cumulative effect of a thousand small concessions made in the name of efficiency and necessity. Yet systems are not defined by their intentions; they are defined by their operations.

The American design ensures that those who write the rules remain accountable to those who live under them. The administrative state has not removed the structures of our Republic, but it has built around them, creating a parallel system that bypasses the constitutional guardrails.

Our task is not merely to manage the system we have inherited, but to restore the one we were promised. The choice is no longer between different policies, but between two different forms of political life: one where power is granted by the governed, and another where liberty is a gift from the state.

In Liberty,
Gary (Libertas)

Listen Here

In this episode, we explore how many of the rules that shape our daily lives aren’t created through legislation or public debate, but through a system that writes, enforces, and interprets its own authority. We examine what happens when governance gives way to management and why so many decisions affecting your life come from places you can’t vote against.

What we cover:

• The Hidden Structure: How agencies have become the primary rulemakers in modern life.

• The Accountability Gap: What it means when the people writing the rules can’t be removed by the people living under them.

• The System in Action: How this shift shows up in everyday decisions…from business regulations to the products you use.

This is where the theory of the Restoration Papers meets the reality of the modern administrative state. If you’ve ever felt like you’re navigating a system you didn’t choose, this episode will help you see why.

In this episode, we explore the transition from a society of “self-governing citizens” to a society of “managed subjects.” We look at why our modern institutions from, D.C. down to our local school boards, increasingly operate like corporate HR departments rather than bodies of statesmanship.

What we cover:

• The linguistic trick: How “Management” stole the seat of “Governance.”

• The “Managerial Class”: Who they are and why they thrive on your dependency.

• The Path Back: How restoring the “Statesman” at the local level is the only way to fix the top.

This is the bridge between understanding our local baseline and actually rebuilding it. If you’re ready to stop being a “managed unit” and start being an “architect,” this episode is for you.

Listen Here

To My Fellow Americans,

Today, we live in a strange paradox.

The rituals of our Republic remain intact: elections are held, speeches are delivered, and Congress still convenes beneath the same marble dome. Yet beneath those familiar forms, the mechanics of power have shifted. We are no longer a people solely governed by our representatives; we are a population increasingly managed by a system.

Most major decisions that shape the texture of our daily lives – from the lightbulbs we buy to the way we run our small businesses, are not debated in legislatures or voted on by the people we elect. Instead, they are issued as rules, “guidance”, or directives produced by a vast, permanent administrative layer.

These institutions do not merely implement the law; they write the rules, enforce the rules, and often interpret the rules themselves. To many, this feels normal because it is the only system they have ever known. But it is not the system the American Republic was designed to be.

1. The Design vs. The Drift

The Constitution forged a covenant of representation. It was designed to be friction-heavy, making lawmaking difficult so that only the most necessary and debated rules would survive. Power was deliberately divided so that no single institution could dominate the others.

Over time, however, a different model emerged – one that prized efficiency over consent.

Legislatures began delegating their broad constitutional authority to administrative agencies. These agencies did not merely enforce laws; they began to construct detailed regulatory frameworks governing vast areas of our economic and social life. What was once a legislative decision has become an administrative one. What once required public debate became a “regulatory process.”

In effect, governance gave way to management. This transformation accelerated as the state promised that “expertise” and “technical competence” could solve the complexities of modern life better than the messy process of self-rule. But in gaining efficiency, we lost proximity. Decision-making was moved further away from the citizens those decisions actually affected.

2. The Philosophical Principle

A constitutional republic depends on a simple, unbreakable principle: Those who write the rules must remain accountable to those who live under them.

Administrative governance alters this relationship. When rulemaking authority shifts from elected legislators to permanent bodies, the connection between the citizen and the law begins to wither. The people still vote, but they increasingly vote for representatives who no longer write the rules that govern their daily existence.

Governance requires consent; management requires compliance.

3. The Consequences of the Shift

The result was not a tyranny of the boot, but a tyranny of the binder…a soft, desk-bound despotism that didn’t break the spirit so much as it exhausted it.

· Concentrated Authority: Agencies often combine rulemaking, enforcement, and adjudication within a single institution, the very “accumulation of powers” the Founders feared most.

· Reduced Transparency: Decisions are hidden behind technical jargon and complex frameworks, distant from ordinary public scrutiny.

· The Subject vs. The Citizen: This shift changed our identity. Citizens became less like participants in a republic and more like subjects navigating an expanding network of permissions.

The result is a society that is increasingly administered rather than governed.

4. The Question for the Republic

If the machinery of modern life now operates through administrative systems rather than constitutional processes, we must ask:

How much authority can move from the people’s representatives to administrative institutions before a Republic ceases to be a Republic?

Understanding this requires us to examine the rise of what we now call the “Administrative State.” That will be the subject of our next Restoration Paper.

5. Closing Reflection

The Founders understood that liberty doesn’t always disappear through conquest or revolution. It can fade gradually as power moves from visible, accountable institutions to quieter, professionalized mechanisms of control.

When governance becomes management, we may still believe we are participating in a constitutional system even as the structure beneath us transforms. The first step toward restoration is recognizing when the machinery of governance has been replaced by the machinery of administration.

Only then can we ask whether the balance intended by the Constitution still exists—and what must be done to reclaim it.

“The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive, and judiciary, in the same hands… may justly be pronounced the very definition of tyranny.”

- James Madison, Federalist No. 47

In Liberty,
Gary Mullins (Libertas)

In the latest episode of The Defiant Citizen, we unpack the theoretical and practical fallout of the October 2025 shutdown.

Using Restoration Paper 2 as our guide, we examine the “forgotten design” of our Constitution. We discuss the dangerous trend of “Management” replacing “Governance” and why so many Americans have been lulled into a state of dependency that makes a federal budget delay feel like an existential threat.

Inside this episode:

• The Client Trap: How we outsourced our responsibility to the state.

• Jefferson’s Vision: Dividing authority until it reaches your front door.

• The Rebuild: Why fixing Washington starts with your local city council.

This is the beginning of a larger conversation about reclaiming our status as participants in our government, not just subjects of it.

Listen Here

Next week, we move to Restoration Paper #3, where we ask: When did Governance become Management?

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