The Kingdom We Built

By Peter David Orr 

I am heartened to see so many people at the "No Kings" rallies captivated by the principle of Limited Government. It is a refreshing change to see the bedrock of our republic treated with such urgency. But as I watched the fervor, I couldn't help but think back to my 8th-grade classroom, where for 30 years, I watched brilliant students debate and construct a constitution.

In a simulated Constitutional Convention, these 14-year-olds weren’t partisans; they were architects. They grappled with Locke’s Social Contract and Montesquieu’s Separation of Powers, etc., not as abstract vocabulary words, but as survival tools for a fledgling democratic republic. They quickly realized a fundamental truth that seems to elude adults: the powers you give a "good" leader today are the same powers a "bad" leader will use tomorrow.

They understood that the structure and limitations of office matter more than the person holding it.

Here's a straightforward and simple truth: There'd be no space in our government for "Kings" if we hadn't spent the last 100 years building a Kingdom!

The Fragility of the "Demos"

When I taught the Constitution, I didn't start with 1787; I started with early human history and the dominant forms of government. Then we moved on to the noteable exceptions that sprouted among the Greeks and Romans. My students and I considered the Greek origin of democracy—Demos (the people) and Kratos (power)—and they learned that democracy is historically rare and incredibly fragile. They learned that the Founders of the United States recognized that democracy, without a wise and sustainable structure, is too often its own undoing.

In a world of Kings and Tyrants who make quick, unilateral decisions, a slow-moving democratic republic can feel like a liability. History is littered with "strong men" who convinced the masses that security—both physical and economic—is more important than liberty. When the people grow frustrated with the slow pace of deliberation, they are easily tempted to hand their Kratos over to a single figure who promises to "just get things done."

To prevent this, the Founders studied the Roman Republic and the concept of Higher Law and, like my students, considered why this ancient and advanced form of government ultimately failed and gave birth to the Roman Empire. The Founders built a system designed to be intentionally slow. They didn't do this to frustrate us; they did it to protect us from ourselves. They knew that if you make it easy for the government to do "good" quickly, you simultaneously make it easy for a tyrant to do "evil" just as fast.

The Enforcement Trap: The Cost of "Good Works" and "Unbounded Security"

How did we get from that cautious architecture to the "Kingdom" we see today? The answer is uncomfortable: we built it ourselves, one "good intention" at a time.

For the last 100 years, the American public has grown increasingly impatient with the limited scope of the Constitution. We wanted the government to solve more problems, provide more services, and ensure more security. But here is the reality my 8th graders eventually had to face: No law that establishes a program to help the people is worth anything if it isn't enforced.

A law without the power of enforcement is merely a dream. To fulfill our modern desires for a "bigger" government, we had to create a "stronger" Executive. We needed more agencies, more agents, and more discretionary power to ensure those "good works" were carried out. In our rush to see the government do more for us, we forgot that we were simultaneously giving it the power to do more to us. We built the machinery of a Kingdom because we wanted the benefits of a King's decrees.

The Partisan Blind Spot

The great irony is that most of this dismantling of guardrails was done by people who truly believed they were facilitating progress. But they fell into a trap of profound short-sightedness. They foolishly imagined that if they created a big enough scope and a strong enough power, the sheer bulk of the bureaucratic entity would keep their preferred partisans in power perpetually (say that last phrase four times, fast).

They forgot the lesson my 14-year-olds understood: Power is a fluid; it fills whatever container you build for it. If you build a throne room, eventually a King will walk through the door. If you create a "Kingdom" of sweeping executive authority and massive enforcement power, you have no right to be surprised when someone you profoundly disagree with sits on the throne and uses the very tools you sharpened for them.

Dismantling the Throne

It is easy to shout "No Kings" when the person in the White House feels like a tyrant to you. The real test of a Constitutionalist is whether you are willing to demand Limited Government even when the person in power is someone you love.

If we are serious about the "No Kings" movement, we have to stop arguing about the crown and start examining the architecture. A Republic’s strength lies in its restraints, not its speed, scope, and power. After all, if 8th graders can see that constructing a "Kingdom" is a trap, surely the rest of us can, too. A government big enough and powerful enough to meet your every need is also a government big enough and powerful enough to take everything you have—including your rights.

We have spent a century building a "Kingdom" that doesn't need a crown to be tyrannical. If your "fix" is simply to sub in your own version of that power, you aren't the solution—you’re just the next King.