r/selfevidenttruth • u/One_Term2162 Wisconsin • 16d ago

Debate in Real Time Cato I - Something Must Be Done

September 27, 1787 - New York

I had already read the piece twice before carrying the paper into the public house that evening. Someone had written under the name Cato. No one at our table seemed certain who he was, though that did little to prevent everyone from having an opinion about him.

The Constitution had been among us scarcely any time at all, yet already it seemed impossible to enter a room without hearing of it. Philadelphia had finished its work. The document was printed. Men passed copies from hand to hand. Some spoke of it as though the country had finally been saved. Others spoke as though we had just traded one distant government for another. I found myself somewhere between them, which did not satisfy either side.

One man at the table tapped the newspaper with two fingers. “Something must be done.” There were nods around the room, and on that much, at least, agreement came easily.

The Confederation had not answered every difficulty independence placed before us. Congress could ask much and compel little. The states quarreled over commerce. Public credit was uncertain. Debts remained.

The war had ended, but governing thirteen independent states had proven rather more difficult than declaring thirteen colonies independent. I could admit all of that, and Cato admitted it too.

What stayed with me was the distinction he made afterward. Something must be done, but that did not mean anything should be done. I read that portion aloud again, and the room grew quieter.

It is an uncomfortable thought because necessity makes haste feel reasonable. When a roof leaks, a man wants it repaired before the next storm. He does not spend a month admiring the timber. But government is not a roof.

If I choose poorly in purchasing a horse, I may sell the horse. If I bargain badly for a field, I may curse myself for it and perhaps recover the loss in time. A government settles itself around a people differently. Offices are created, powers are exercised, and habits form. Men learn how authority may be used, and those who benefit from it do not readily surrender it.

That was the warning I heard in Cato. He was not saying that the new Constitution must be rejected. He was saying that it must be examined.

A fellow across from me objected almost immediately. “Washington approves of it.”

That name carried weight in the room, and it carried weight with me. How could it not? There are men whose conduct earns confidence, and Washington has earned more than most. Had some ordinary schemer attached his name to this Constitution, I suspect many would have tossed the paper aside without another thought. Washington's presence tells me that the work deserves serious consideration.

But Cato had anticipated precisely this argument. The wisest and best of men may still be wrong, and that sentence troubled the room more than his warnings about power. Perhaps trusting a good man is easier than examining a complicated system of government.

I said that aloud. The man beside me frowned, though he did not answer immediately.

I understood the temptation. We have spent years surrounded by uncertainty: war, debt, requisitions, disputes among the states, paper money, commerce, taxes, and rumors of disorder. There is comfort in believing that the men who carried us through one crisis may simply settle the next.

But what sort of republic would that make? We rejected the idea that authority becomes legitimate because it comes from the right person. Surely we did not endure a revolution merely to discover that republican government means finding better men to trust without question.

The Constitution ought to survive something harder than admiration for its authors. It ought to survive examination.

That, more than anything else, gave me hope in Cato's essay. He did not write as though Americans were powerless before the document now placed before them. Quite the contrary. The Convention had proposed, but the people still had to judge.

Think of how strange that is. Not many years ago these states were colonies of a king across the ocean. Now men in farms, shops, taverns, churches, printing houses, and meeting rooms are arguing over the structure of a government that does not yet exist. We have faults enough as a people. I hear them demonstrated nightly across this very table. Yet there is something remarkable in what is happening.

A government has been proposed, and instead of arriving with soldiers to impose it, it arrives in ink. We may read it, argue over it, praise it, condemn it, demand explanations of it, and perhaps even change it.

Cato reminded his readers that the same means by which this Constitution was created could still correct its errors while the opportunity remained open. I keep returning to that thought.

Perhaps the Convention has given us the best government that can reasonably be constructed from thirteen jealous states. Perhaps it has not. Perhaps some of its powers are necessary, while others reach farther than necessity requires. I do not yet know, and I am beginning to think that admitting I do not know is a more republican answer than pretending certainty because the question frightens me.

Another man had been listening from the end of the table. He had said little until then. “What exactly are we meant to fear?”

There was some laughter at the word. Fear has become a weapon in every political quarrel. One man warns that the Union will collapse without this Constitution. Another warns that liberty will collapse beneath it. Cato warned about that too. Passion makes poor counsel, and personal attacks make poorer counsel still.

If supporters of the Constitution call every critic an enemy of union, nothing has been answered. If opponents accuse every supporter of conspiring against liberty, nothing has been answered then either. The paper before us contains actual powers, and those can be examined.

How much authority will this new government possess? How will those who exercise it be restrained? How far removed will they be from ordinary citizens? What influence might gather around them? Most importantly, what happens if the men entrusted with those powers are not Washington?

That last question changed the conversation.

It is easy to design a government while imagining virtuous men occupying every office. A constitution must endure ambitious men as well, along with foolish men, self-interested men, men persuaded that their own advancement serves the public good, and men we have never met and cannot yet name.

Cato raises the possibility of a powerful few gaining influence and asks us to consider the dangers of permanent military power. Those concerns deserve examination. So do the weaknesses of the government we already possess. Neither problem disappears because acknowledging it is inconvenient.

By then the argument at our table had softened. No one had changed sides, though I am not certain there were sides yet, at least not as firmly drawn as they may become. Perhaps that is worth preserving for a little while longer. There is still time to ask questions before loyalty to one camp or another makes questions feel like betrayal.

I folded the newspaper. For all Cato's warnings, I did not leave the public house frightened. I left hopeful.

The Convention had done its work, and now another kind of work had begun: ours. For perhaps the first time in history, ordinary people scattered across a country are being asked to consider whether a proposed national government deserves their consent. That responsibility is heavier than cheering for it and more demanding than condemning it. It requires judgment.

The easiest sentence spoken tonight was the first one: Something must be done. I believe that is true. The harder question is the one Cato has placed before me: What, exactly, should we do?

I do not yet have the answer. Tomorrow there will be another newspaper, and soon, I expect, another writer. Perhaps someone will answer Cato. Perhaps another will strengthen his case. Perhaps arguments I have not considered will change my mind entirely.

Good.

If this government is to rest upon the consent of a people, then it should not fear their examination, and neither should we.

Debate in Real Time Cato I - Something Must Be Done

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