In 1787, as Benjamin Franklin left Independence Hall at the close of the Constitutional Convention, a curious woman approached him and asked what kind of government the delegates had created. Franklin famously replied, “A republic, if you can keep it,” encapsulating the fragile and participatory nature of the newly formed American government. His words serve as both a description of the system’s design and a warning that its survival depends on the active engagement and virtue of its citizens.
In recent years, academics and the press have accused everything from corporate tax cuts to fossil fuels to free speech to the legitimate election of a president of being threats to American democracy. Thus, a rallying cry has risen from the political left, urging the nation to “protect democracy,” as if it were the ultimate aim of the Great American Experiment. And even then, misunderstanding what democracy is.
This rhetoric conflates democracy with virtue, asserting that majority rule is an unassailable good. However, the foundational thinkers of liberty and modern governance — John Locke and Alexis de Tocqueville among them — have warned us otherwise. Democracy, while a useful tool of governance, is not inherently virtuous. While democracy is a more effective tool than a kritarchy or feudalism for checking power, it remains vulnerable to the same threats of corruption and tyranny when its mechanisms lack the restraint of virtue and the rule of law. A democracy’s value depends entirely on the moral fabric of the society that sustains it.
John Locke, in his “Second Treatise of Government,” underscores the dangers of unchecked power.
“It may be too great a temptation to human frailty apt to grasp at power,” he writes, cautioning against consolidating legislative and executive powers. Locke understood that laws, and the structures of government that enforce them, must be designed with the recognition that humans are fallible, often corruptible creatures. Democracy, no matter how well intentioned, can easily become a vehicle for tyranny when devoid of virtue.
This warning resonates in Tocqueville’s observation, in “Democracy in America,” that “the omnipotence of the majority appears to me such a peril in republics, as I am not sure there is a greater danger.” Majority rule alone does not safeguard liberty; it can just as easily trample it underfoot.
These observations point to an uncomfortable truth: democracy’s merit lies not in its process but in the quality of the society it governs. A healthy democracy requires more than elections and majority rule. It demands a robust foundation of republican virtue — a term that has nothing to do with modern political parties but everything to do with moral character, civic responsibility, and the commitment to the common good.
Republican virtue emphasizes that the stability and success of a republic depend on the ethical behavior of its citizens and leaders. This was evident to the founders of the United States, who established a system not as a direct democracy but as a representative republic. They understood that democracy must be restrained by principles of justice and tempered by the rule of law to preserve individual freedoms. As Locke asserted, “The end of law is not to abolish or restrain, but to preserve and enlarge freedom.”
Law, rooted in virtue, prevents the chaos and tyranny of unrestrained majority rule and secures the liberty that democracy alone cannot guarantee.
The greatest threat to a democracy arises when the people of that democracy abandon republican virtue, the moral character, civic responsibility, and commitment to the common good that underpin a free society. Without these virtues, the nation can succumb to illiberal attitudes, prioritizing power over principles and disregarding individual rights, free speech, and the rule of law.
If this were to happen in America, democracy would devolve from a safeguard of liberty into a tool for factional dominance, where majority rule oppresses rather than protects. By forsaking our foundational principles, the people erode the very freedoms that democracy is meant to uphold, threatening the stability and legitimacy of the republic itself.
Today, America faces a profound challenge: a decline in republican virtue and an increasing polarization that prizes victory over unity, power over principle. As Tocqueville warned, the omnipotence of the majority can become a peril when factions seek dominance without regard for the broader implications for liberty and justice. Polarized democracy, driven by ideological extremism, accelerates this decline, fostering apathy and mistrust among citizens.
The definition of a “threat to democracy” cannot and should not be whatever issue a media outlet or academic disagrees with that day.
To restore the promise of the American republic, we must shift our rhetoric from protecting democracy as a process to cultivating the virtues that sustain it. Leaders must model humility, integrity, and dedication to the common good. Citizens must prioritize civic engagement, education, and community building over partisanship. Our institutions must reinforce accountability and fairness, ensuring that no majority — however fleeting — can wield unchecked power.
This dynamic echoes Lord Acton‘s timeless warning that “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” reminding us that unchecked majority rule in a democracy can erode liberty just as surely as a tyrant.
Democracy itself is not a virtue, but it can be virtuous when rooted in the foundations of a principled society. America does not need more polarized democracy; it needs a democracy shaped by republican virtue. This virtue, enshrined in our founding principles, offers the path forward — a reminder that the health of our republic depends not on the mechanics of governance alone but on the character of the people it governs.
In the coming years, let’s not strive to protect democracy for its own sake. Let’s try to be a people worthy of it.