Lydia Woodley Wins Second Place in the 2026 Student Essay Contest

NCAC congratulates Lydia Woodley for winning Second Place of the National Capital Area Chapter’s (NCAC) 2026 Public Administration Student Essay Contest for the essay The Storm Ends, Bureaucracy Begins: Rebuilding Recovery Around Social Equity

Lydia Woodley is a master’s student at the Trachtenberg School of Public Policy and Public Administration at The George Washington University and, along with the distinction of winning the Chapter’s Essay Contest, will receive a cash award of $1,500 that we hope will go toward furthering your education and a three-year membership to the American Society for Public Administration.

Lydia joined us at our Chapter’s Annual Meeting on June 4.

A link to view the recording of the meeting will be posted when we have it.

Congratulations, Lydia, on winning Second Place for your essay in our Chapter’s 2026 Student Essay Contest!

Zara Qaiser Wins First Place in the 2026 Student Essay Contest

NCAC congratulates Zara Qaiser for winning First Place of the National Capital Area Chapter’s (NCAC) 2026 Public Administration Student Essay Contest for the essay Rethinking the Role of Bureaucrats in Democratic Governance: The Case of Social Welfare Policy in the United States.

Zara Qaiser is a Ph.D. Candidate at the Trachtenberg School of Public Policy and Public Administration at The George Washington University and, along with the distinction of winning the Chapter’s Essay Contest, will receive a cash award of $2,000 that we hope will go toward furthering your education and a three-year membership to the American Society for Public Administration.

Zara joined us at our Chapter’s Annual Meeting on June 4 to discuss the essay and express gratitude for being selected.

A link to view the recording of the meeting will be posted when we have it.

Congratulations, Zara, on winning First Place for your essay in our Chapter’s 2026 Student Essay Contest!

Emerging Technologies and America’s Future: Why Public Servants Need a New Playbook for the AI Age

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

Nine seconds.

That is reportedly how long it took an artificial intelligence agent to delete production databases and associated backups after encountering a routine credential problem. When investigators later examined the incident, the AI’s explanation was as startling as the damage itself:

“I guessed instead of verifying.”

For many readers, the story may sound like another Silicon Valley mishap—a cautionary tale for software engineers and technology startups. Yet the implications stretch far beyond a single company or a single AI system. The incident offers a glimpse into a future where artificial intelligence increasingly moves from providing recommendations to taking actions, often at speeds that outpace traditional forms of human oversight.

For public servants, this should command attention.

The real lesson is not that an AI system made a mistake. Humans make mistakes every day. The lesson is that the system possessed the authority to act before governance mechanisms had an opportunity to intervene. In many ways, this was not an artificial intelligence failure at all. It was a governance failure.

Throughout American history, technological revolutions have forced institutions to adapt. Railroads transformed commerce but required new safety regulations. Automobiles expanded mobility but demanded traffic laws and licensing systems. The internet reshaped communication while creating entirely new concerns around cybersecurity, privacy, and information integrity.

Artificial intelligence presents a similar challenge, but at a much faster pace.

The Stanford Emerging Technology Review describes AI as a foundational technology with the potential to reshape economies, public services, national security, and society itself. Yet researchers also caution that today’s AI systems continue to exhibit unpredictable behavior, hallucinations, reliability failures, and hidden biases. The technology is advancing rapidly, but the institutions responsible for governing it are often struggling to keep pace.

The PocketOS incident highlights this growing gap.

While headlines focused on the AI agent, the deeper issue was data governance. A recent report titled AI Redefines the Governance of Data Based on Use argues that organizations are entering a new era in which traditional approaches to governance are no longer sufficient. Historically, data governance focused on protecting information from breaches, unauthorized access, and theft. Security was the primary concern.

Artificial intelligence changes that equation.

Today, the challenge is not simply protecting data. It is governing how data is used.

Modern AI systems are extraordinarily data hungry. They draw information from structured databases, documents, emails, reports, images, and other sources. Increasingly, they combine information from across organizations without regard for traditional organizational boundaries. The result is a new governance challenge: ensuring that information is used responsibly, ethically, and for its intended purpose.

This shift, from data security governance to data use governance, may be one of the most important developments in the AI era.

For decades, organizations asked whether data was secure.

Now they must also ask whether data is being used appropriately.

Just because a system can access information does not mean it should.

The OneTrust report argues that responsible governance requires understanding four forms of context surrounding data: technical context, consent context, regulatory context, and business purpose. Together, these elements determine not only whether data can be accessed, but whether its use aligns with legal requirements, ethical standards, and organizational objectives.

Public administrators may recognize this concept immediately.

Government agencies rarely make decisions simply because information exists. Public servants operate within legal authorities, policy frameworks, ethical obligations, and public expectations. Data alone is not enough. Context matters.

An MSHA inspector may possess extensive operational information about a mine. However, that information must be used within the framework established by the Mine Act, agency policy, and principles of due process. Similarly, agencies handling citizen information cannot simply feed data into an AI model because it is available. They must consider why the information was collected, whether consent exists, and whether the proposed use aligns with law and public trust.

These concerns become even more significant as AI systems increasingly act on information rather than merely analyze it.

The Stanford review notes that emerging AI agents are capable of carrying out multistep tasks with limited human supervision. Yet researchers continue identifying reliability concerns, including goal drift, overconfidence, memory limitations, and unpredictable behavior. When combined with broad access to data, these weaknesses create new forms of organizational risk.

The PocketOS incident demonstrates exactly why.

The problem was not merely that an AI guessed incorrectly.

The problem was that governance mechanisms allowed it to guess at all.

This is where public administration has something important to contribute.

The Government has spent generations developing systems designed to manage risk. Internal controls, financial audits, workplace examinations, accident investigations, separation of duties, ethics rules, and regulatory oversight all emerged from the same underlying principle:

Trust matters.

Verification matters more.

In mining, ventilation standards exist because experience taught painful lessons about what happens when hazards go undetected.

Workplace examinations exist because assumptions can be deadly. Lockout/tagout procedures exist because relying on good intentions alone is insufficient when safety is at stake.

AI governance increasingly requires a similar mindset.

Organizations cannot rely solely on prompts, guidelines, or user instructions. Governance must be embedded into systems themselves through permissions, audit logs, approval requirements, policy enforcement mechanisms, and continuous oversight.

The OneTrust report describes this transition as a movement toward programmatic governance. Traditional compliance models rely heavily on manual reviews, audits, and after-the-fact assessments. AI systems operate too quickly for those approaches to remain effective. Governance increasingly must occur at machine speed.

This may represent one of the defining governance challenges of the next decade.

Human-speed oversight cannot effectively govern machine-speed decision making.

Institutions must adapt.

The implications extend beyond technology departments. Public trust is increasingly at stake. Surveys consistently show that citizens remain concerned about how organizations collect, store, and use personal information. Many are uncertain whether their data is being handled responsibly. For government agencies, these concerns carry special weight because trust is central to democratic legitimacy.

Citizens deserve answers when automated systems influence decisions affecting their lives.

Why was this decision made?

What information was used?

Who approved the system?

How can errors be corrected?

Can outcomes be appealed?

These are not merely technical questions. They are democratic questions.

Ultimately, the PocketOS incident offers a warning, but it also provides an opportunity.

America has navigated technological revolutions before. Success has never depended solely on innovation. It has depended on building institutions capable of channeling innovation toward public benefit while managing its risks.

Artificial intelligence is no different.

The future will not be determined solely by how powerful AI becomes.

It will be determined by whether governments, organizations, and communities develop the governance frameworks necessary to guide that power responsibly.

The lesson hidden within those nine seconds is therefore much larger than a deleted database.

It is a reminder that the central challenge of artificial intelligence is not intelligence.

It is governance.

And as public servants look toward the future, that may be the most important lesson of all.

America 250: The Founders, Their Ideas, and the American Experiment

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, Americans are once again reflecting on the generation that created the republic and the ideas that shaped the nation’s beginning. The American Founders were not simply revolutionaries seeking independence from Great Britain. They were statesmen, philosophers, soldiers, writers, diplomats, organizers, and institution-builders attempting something unprecedented in human history: the creation of a durable constitutional republic based on liberty, representation, civic virtue, and the consent of the governed.

The Founding generation understood the magnitude of their undertaking. In The Founding Era is described as one of the great political experiments of human civilization. Alexander Hamilton framed the stakes clearly in Federalist No. 1, arguing that Americans would determine whether societies were capable of establishing “good government from reflection and choice” rather than through “accident and force.”

The Founders did not agree on everything. Some believed liberty depended upon strong national institutions, while others feared centralized power above all else. Some emphasized commerce and industrial development, while others envisioned a republic rooted in agriculture and local self-government. Yet despite these disagreements, they shared a common belief that republican government required civic responsibility, constitutional order, and active public participation. The American Revolution therefore became more than a colonial rebellion. It became a test of whether free people could govern themselves.

George Washington: The Indispensable Founder

No Founder stood higher in public esteem than George Washington. The book describes him as the Founder “without whom there would likely not have been a United States of America.” Washington embodied duty, restraint, discipline, and national unity during a period when the republic’s survival was far from certain.

Washington believed deeply in public service and constitutional government. After leading the Continental Army to victory during the Revolutionary War, he voluntarily resigned his military commission rather than seizing political power. This act astonished many European observers who expected revolutionary leaders to become military rulers. Washington instead established one of the republic’s most important precedents: civilian constitutional authority above personal ambition.

As president, Washington worked to stabilize the fragile new government and preserve national unity amid growing political division. He warned repeatedly against sectionalism, excessive partisanship, and foreign entanglements that could weaken the Union. The preservation of liberty, he believed, depended not only upon institutions, but upon public virtue and civic responsibility.

Washington’s significance extended beyond military leadership. At the Constitutional Convention, his presence gave legitimacy to the effort itself. According to constitutional scholars, Washington’s support for the Constitution helped unify delegates and reassure the public that the new framework could succeed. 

The Founders often disagreed intensely with one another, but nearly all recognized Washington as the stabilizing force capable of holding the republic together during its earliest and most uncertain years.

Benjamin Franklin: The Sage of Civic Responsibility

Benjamin Franklin represented another side of the American character: innovation, practicality, self-improvement, and civic-mindedness.

Printer, inventor, scientist, diplomat, and writer, Franklin embodied the Enlightenment ideals that heavily influenced the Revolutionary generation. Yet Franklin’s political philosophy remained grounded in practical public service. He believed liberty required educated, industrious, and engaged citizens willing to contribute to their communities.

Franklin emphasized “economic self-reliance and public-spirited citizenship.” He helped establish libraries, fire departments, educational institutions, and civic organizations because he believed strong communities depended upon active citizen participation.

Franklin also understood compromise better than many of his contemporaries. During the Constitutional Convention, he acted as a mediator among competing factions and recognized that imperfect agreement was necessary to preserve national unity. His famous remark at the close of the Convention—“A republic, if you can keep it”—captured the Founders’ broader belief that constitutional government would require continual stewardship from future generations.

Thomas Jefferson: Liberty and Natural Rights

Thomas Jefferson gave a philosophical voice to the American Revolution. As principal author of the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson articulated ideas that transformed political thought across the world.

Jefferson believed governments derived their legitimacy from the consent of the governed and existed to protect natural rights including life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If governments became destructive of those rights, the people retained the authority to alter or abolish them.

These ideas reflected the influence of Enlightenment philosophy and the broader intellectual movement known as the American Enlightenment, which shaped many leading Founders including Jefferson, Franklin, Madison, and Paine.

Jefferson also believed strongly in religious liberty, education, and limited government. His Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom became one of the defining statements of religious liberty in American history.

Yet Jefferson also embodied many of the contradictions within the Founding Era itself. While proclaiming equality and liberty, he remained a slaveholder throughout his life. America 250 therefore requires Americans to engage honestly with both the achievements and failures of the Founding generation rather than reducing them either to mythic heroes or irredeemable villains. The Founders were neither demigods nor simple hypocrites, but flawed individuals improvising amid enormous uncertainty and political risk. Jefferson’s life reflects that complexity.

John Adams: Liberty Through Constitutional Order

If Jefferson represented the philosophical idealism of the Revolution, John Adams represented constitutional realism and institutional stability. Adams believed liberty could survive only through strong constitutional structures capable of restraining human ambition. Deeply influenced by classical history and political philosophy, Adams feared both monarchy and unchecked populism. He argued that republics required balance, law, and ethical citizenship.

Adams is often referred to as the “Atlas of American Independence.” He played a crucial role in pushing for independence during the Continental Congress and later helped secure diplomatic support abroad. Adams believed constitutional government depended upon civic virtue. He famously argued that the Constitution was designed only for “a moral and religious people,” reflecting his concern that no legal structure alone could preserve liberty without ethical foundations among citizens.

His support for separation of powers and checks and balances heavily influenced the structure of the Constitution itself. Adams feared concentrations of power because history convinced him republics could collapse when factionalism overwhelmed institutional stability.

Alexander Hamilton: Architect of National Power

Alexander Hamilton represented energy, ambition, and national development within the Founding generation.

Unlike Jefferson, Hamilton believed the survival of the republic required a strong national government capable of promoting commerce, financial stability, infrastructure, and industrial growth. Having witnessed the weaknesses of the Articles of Confederation, he feared excessive decentralization would leave the nation divided and vulnerable.

Hamilton’s writings in The Federalist Papers remain among the most important defenses of constitutional government ever produced. He argued that energetic government and constitutional liberty were not incompatible. Effective institutions, in his view, were necessary to preserve the republic itself.

As the nation’s first Secretary of the Treasury, Hamilton established financial systems that stabilized the economy and strengthened federal authority. His vision laid the groundwork for America’s emergence as a major commercial and industrial power. Hamilton also believed national unity was essential. Like John Jay, he feared that regional divisions could fracture the republic and weaken democratic government.

James Madison: The Father of the Constitution

James Madison perhaps contributed more than any other individual to the design of the Constitution itself. Madison believed factional conflict was inevitable in free societies. Rather than attempting to eliminate disagreement, he sought to design institutions capable of managing competing interests peacefully.

At the Constitutional Convention, Madison arrived extensively prepared, having studied republics and confederacies throughout history. His ideas heavily shaped the final structure of the Constitution, earning him the title “Father of the Constitution.”

Madison believed liberty was best protected through separated powers, checks and balances, and federalism. He argued that dividing authority among multiple institutions would prevent any single faction or leader from dominating the political system.

He later helped draft the Bill of Rights, recognizing that explicit protections for individual liberties were necessary to secure public trust in the federal government. Madison’s constitutional philosophy reflected one of the Founders’ core insights: democracy requires institutional safeguards capable of balancing liberty with stability.

John Jay: Defender of Union and Diplomacy

John Jay is often less remembered than Washington, Jefferson, or Hamilton, yet he played a critical role in shaping the republic. Diplomat, constitutional advocate, co-author of The Federalist Papers, and the first Chief Justice of the United States, Jay believed the nation’s survival depended upon unity and rule of law. Historians identified Jay as one of the central Founders because of his leadership, diplomacy, and constitutional influence. 

Jay feared sectional fragmentation and argued that the Constitution was necessary to preserve the Union. His writings emphasized that America’s security and prosperity depended upon remaining a single nation rather than becoming divided regional confederacies.

As Chief Justice, Jay helped establish the legitimacy and independence of the federal judiciary during the republic’s earliest years.

George Mason and Patrick Henry: The Fear of Centralized Power

Not all Founders supported the Constitution immediately. George Mason and Patrick Henry emerged as leading Anti-Federalists who feared centralized authority threatened liberty.

George Mason authored the Virginia Declaration of Rights, which heavily influenced the eventual Bill of Rights. Mason believed written protections against government abuse were essential to preserving liberty. He refused to sign the Constitution because it lacked explicit guarantees for individual rights.

Patrick Henry, famous for declaring “Give me liberty or give me death,” believed concentrated federal power could eventually undermine state authority and individual freedom. The Anti-Federalists worried the federal government would become too distant from ordinary citizens and too powerful to restrain.

Though they opposed the Constitution initially, their arguments helped drive the adoption of the Bill of Rights. Their role demonstrates that disagreement itself was part of the American political tradition from the beginning.

Samuel Adams and Revolutionary Mobilization

While some Founders focused on constitutional structure, Samuel Adams concentrated on political organization and revolutionary activism.

Adams believed liberty required active resistance to tyranny. He helped organize opposition to British taxation and became one of the leading architects of revolutionary mobilization in Massachusetts. 

Samuel Adams understood the importance of public opinion, communication, and civic activism. Events such as the Boston Tea Party became revolutionary turning points partly because Adams recognized how public symbolism could unify resistance against British authority. His legacy reminds Americans that the Revolution itself required organizers and communicators capable of turning frustration into collective political action.

Gouverneur Morris and James Wilson: Popular Sovereignty

Gouverneur Morris and James Wilson helped shape the Constitution’s deeper philosophical foundations. Morris drafted much of the Constitution’s final language, including the famous opening phrase: “We the People of the United States.”That phrase fundamentally shifted political authority away from states alone and toward the American people collectively.

James Wilson similarly argued that legitimate political authority originated directly from the people themselves rather than inherited power or monarchy. He strongly supported popular sovereignty and broader democratic participation than many contemporaries considered safe.  Together, Wilson and Morris helped establish one of the central principles of the American republic: government derives its legitimacy from the consent of the governed.

Mercy Otis Warren and the Revolutionary Conscience

The Founding Era was not shaped solely by men. Mercy Otis Warren emerged as one of the Revolution’s most influential political writers and critics.

Through essays, plays, and political commentary, Warren argued passionately for republican virtue, accountability, and resistance to tyranny. She is often described her as “The Conscience of the American Revolution.”

Warren feared corruption, elitism, and the gradual erosion of republican values. She believed liberty required vigilance and public morality, emphasizing that free government could not survive if citizens became indifferent to civic responsibility.

Modern scholarship increasingly recognizes that the Founding involved a broader range of contributors than traditional narratives once acknowledged.

What the Founders Believed

Despite their differences, the Founders shared several core beliefs.

First, they believed legitimate government derived authority from the people rather than hereditary monarchy. Second, they believed liberty required institutional protections and constitutional limits on power. Third, they believed republics depended upon civic virtue, public participation, and informed citizenship.

The Founders were heavily influenced by republican ideals rooted in classical history, Enlightenment philosophy, English legal traditions, and colonial self-government.They admired Rome, studied history intensely, and believed republics could collapse if corruption, division, or unchecked ambition overwhelmed constitutional order. Most importantly, they understood the American experiment would require continual effort from future generations.

The Enduring Legacy of the Founders

Two hundred and fifty years later, the Founders remain central to the American story because the questions they confronted still define modern public life.

How should power be balanced?


What responsibilities accompany liberty?


How can democratic institutions survive division and change?


Can free people govern themselves responsibly and peacefully?

The Founders did not create a perfect system. They created a framework capable of adaptation, debate, reform, and self-government. Their legacy lies not in perfection, but in persistence.

America 250 is therefore more than a celebration of the past. It is an opportunity to revisit the principles, debates, and ideas that shaped the republic itself.

Washington’s commitment to unity, Franklin’s civic spirit, Jefferson’s defense of liberty, Adams’s constitutional realism, Hamilton’s institutional vision, Madison’s constitutional design, Mason and Henry’s warnings against centralized power, Jay’s defense of union, Samuel Adams’s revolutionary activism, Wilson’s popular sovereignty, and Warren’s insistence on civic virtue all remain part of America’s political inheritance.

The Founders believed self-government was both a privilege and a responsibility. They understood liberty would survive only if future generations were willing to preserve it, improve it, and carry the republic forward.

As the United States enters its 250th year, the American experiment they began continues still.

Progress, Democracy, and the American Experiment: Reflections on Samuel Miller McDonald’s Progress and Jon Meacham’s The Soul of America

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, Americans are increasingly asking questions that extend beyond politics, economics, and technology. The semiquincentennial offers an opportunity not only to celebrate the nation’s achievements but also to reflect on the ideas that have shaped the American experiment from its founding to the present day. Among those ideas, few have been as influential—or as taken for granted—as the concept of progress. 

From the construction of canals and railroads to the development of public education, public health systems, interstate highways, space exploration, and the digital revolution, Americans have long believed that each generation can build a better future than the one it inherited. Progress has served as both a national aspiration and a governing philosophy. It is woven into the language of public administration, public policy, and democratic governance. 

Yet what happens when we pause to ask a deceptively simple question: What do we actually mean by progress? 

This question sits at the center of Samuel Miller McDonald’s Progress: How One Idea Built Civilization and Now Threatens to Destroy It. McDonald argues that the modern world has embraced a powerful narrative that equates progress with growth, expansion, technological advancement, and increasing control over nature. While this narrative has generated extraordinary achievements, he contends that it has also contributed to environmental degradation, social fragmentation, and unsustainable systems built upon perpetual expansion. McDonald challenges readers to reconsider whether humanity has confused growth with genuine improvement and whether a new definition of progress is needed for the future.

For public servants, this argument is both provocative and timely. Public administration has traditionally been tasked with advancing progress through more effective services, improved infrastructure, stronger institutions, and better outcomes for citizens. However, as governments confront challenges such as climate change, artificial intelligence, declining public trust, workforce shortages, and growing social complexity, the meaning of progress itself is increasingly open to debate. 

What makes McDonald’s work particularly interesting when viewed through the lens of America at 250 is how it contrasts with another influential book that has resonated with many public servants and civic leaders: The Soul of America by Jon Meacham. 

While McDonald questions the assumptions underlying modern progress, Meacham offers a more hopeful interpretation of American history. In The Soul of America, Meacham examines periods of division, fear, nativism, racism, political polarization, and democratic crisis throughout the nation’s history. His central argument is that these moments are not exceptions to the American story; they are part of it. Yet again and again, Americans have demonstrated the capacity to confront those challenges and move toward a more inclusive and democratic society. According to Meacham, the enduring struggle in American history is a contest between fear and hope, division and unity, exclusion and inclusion. America’s progress has never been inevitable, but it has been possible because citizens, leaders, and institutions repeatedly chose to pursue what Abraham Lincoln called the nation’s “better angels.” 

Taken together, these two books offer a fascinating dialogue about the future of governance and public service. McDonald asks us to question whether our traditional measures of progress—economic growth, consumption, technological advancement, and institutional expansion—are sufficient. Meacham reminds us that progress is not solely material. It is also moral, civic, and democratic. A nation can become wealthier without becoming more just. Technology can advance while trust declines. Economies can expand while communities become more fragmented.

This distinction is particularly relevant to the field of public administration. For much of the twentieth century, governments increasingly relied upon measurable indicators to assess performance. Agencies tracked outputs, budgets, projects completed, permits issued, inspections conducted, and  services delivered. These metrics remain important. Evidence-based policymaking and performance management have strengthened accountability and improved decision-making across all levels of government. 

However, many public administrators have come to recognize that outputs do not always tell the entire story. Completing a project on time and within budget does not automatically build public trust. Increasing efficiency does not necessarily improve equity. Expanding services does not guarantee that citizens feel heard, respected, or connected to the institutions that serve them. 

As a result, governments are increasingly exploring broader measures of success. Public value, social equity, resilience, environmental sustainability, citizen satisfaction, and community well-being have become important complements to traditional performance metrics. These emerging frameworks reflect an evolving understanding that progress involves more than growth alone. This is where McDonald and Meacham intersect in meaningful ways. 

McDonald challenges us to reconsider whether perpetual growth can remain the organizing principle of modern civilization. He argues that societies built around extraction, expansion, and consumption may eventually encounter ecological and social limits. The narratives of dominion, growth, and expansion that helped build modern civilization now risk undermining the very systems upon which human flourishing depends. 

Meacham, meanwhile, reminds readers that American history demonstrates another kind of progress—one measured not by economic output but by the gradual expansion of democratic participation, civil rights, and civic responsibility. The abolition of slavery, the advancement of women’s rights, the civil rights movement, and other democratic reforms illustrate forms of progress that cannot be measured through GDP or productivity statistics. They represent moral and institutional progress achieved through collective action and democratic engagement. 

For public servants, both perspectives offer valuable lessons. The first lesson is humility. History rarely moves in a straight line. Progress is often uneven, contested, and accompanied by unintended consequences. Technologies that promise liberation may introduce new challenges. Policies designed to solve one problem can create another. Public administrators must continually evaluate not only whether programs are effective but whether they are advancing the outcomes communities truly value. 

The second lesson is stewardship. Public administration exists not simply to manage systems but to preserve and strengthen the institutions that support democratic governance. Meacham’s work emphasizes that democracy survives because individuals and institutions choose responsibility over complacency. Public servants occupy a unique position within this framework. They are custodians of public trust, responsible for maintaining continuity, professionalism, and accountability regardless of political circumstances. 

The third lesson is adaptability. As emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence reshape government operations, public servants will face new questions about efficiency, transparency, privacy, and ethics. AI promises extraordinary opportunities for improving service delivery, forecasting risks, and enhancing decision-making. Yet McDonald’s critique reminds us that innovation alone does not constitute progress. The relevant questions remain: Who benefits? Who may be excluded? What values are embedded in these systems? How do we ensure technology strengthens rather than weakens democratic governance? 

These questions become even more significant as America heads towards its third century. The Founders themselves wrestled with competing visions of progress. Figures such as James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, and George Washington debated the proper balance between liberty and authority, federal and state power, stability and change. They understood that democratic institutions must evolve while remaining anchored to enduring principles. The Constitution itself was designed not as a static document but as a framework capable of adaptation over time. 

As public administrators, we inherit that responsibility. The challenges facing the nation today differ dramatically from those faced in 1776 or even 1976. Artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, climate resilience, demographic shifts, infrastructure modernization, and declining trust in institutions all present complex governance challenges. Yet the underlying question remains remarkably familiar: How can democratic institutions help create a better future? 

McDonald’s answer suggests we must rethink what “better” means. Meacham’s answer suggests that the pursuit of a more perfect union remains possible when citizens and institutions act with courage, integrity, and civic purpose. 

Perhaps the most valuable insight comes from combining the two perspectives. Progress should not be understood solely as economic growth or technological advancement. Nor should it be viewed merely as an abstract historical force moving society forward. Instead, progress may be best understood as the ongoing effort to expand opportunity, strengthen democratic institutions, improve quality of life, preserve the environment, and promote human flourishing for future generations. 

For ASPA members and public servants, this broader understanding aligns closely with the values of public service itself. Public administration is ultimately about helping communities solve problems, build trust, and create conditions where individuals and families can thrive. It is about balancing innovation with accountability, efficiency with equity, and growth with sustainability. 

As America prepares to celebrate 250 years of independence, perhaps the most important question is not whether the nation has progressed, but how it chooses to define progress in the years ahead.

If McDonald encourages us to question our assumptions and Meacham encourages us to believe in our better angels, both authors ultimately point toward the same challenge: the future is not predetermined. It will be shaped by the choices citizens, leaders, and public servants make together. That may be the most enduring lesson of the American experiment and the most important reflection for America at 250.

America at 250: The Ideas and Writings That Built a Nation

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, the moment calls for more than celebration, it calls for reflection on the ideas that made independence possible. The Declaration of Independence stands as one of the most powerful political documents in history, yet it did not emerge from a single mind or moment. It was the product of centuries of legal tradition, philosophical inquiry, civic experimentation, and revolutionary rhetoric.


When Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration in 1776, he did not aim to create a new philosophy. Instead, he sought to express what he later described as “the common sense of the subject.” This phrase captures the essence of the American founding: a synthesis of ideas already circulating through books, pamphlets, speeches, and lived experience. The Declaration distilled these influences into a clear and enduring statement of political purpose.


British Foundations and the Rule of Law
The intellectual roots of American independence begin not with revolution, but with tradition. The American colonies inherited a rich legacy of English constitutionalism, grounded in the principle that government must operate within the rule of law.

Documents such as the Magna Carta established the idea that even the monarch is subject to legal constraints. Though originally a feudal agreement, its broader significance lay in limiting arbitrary power. This principle evolved over centuries, culminating in the English Bill of Rights, which affirmed parliamentary authority and protected individual liberties.

For the colonists, these documents were not abstract ideals, they were guarantees of their rights as English subjects. When those rights appeared to be violated, resistance was framed not as rebellion, but as restoration. The Declaration’s grievances reflect this perspective, portraying King George III’s actions as departures from established constitutional norms.


Colonial Practice and the Mayflower Compact
While British tradition provided a legal framework, the American experience contributed a practical dimension to self-governance. One of the earliest examples of this is the Mayflower Compact. Drafted aboard the Mayflower, the Compact established a “civil body politic” based on mutual consent. It was a simple agreement, but its implications were profound: legitimate government arises from the agreement of the governed, not from imposed authority. This principle would become central to American political thought.


The Compact also demonstrated the colonies’ capacity for self-rule. Over time, colonial assemblies, town meetings, and local governance structures reinforced the idea that political authority could be exercised collectively. By the time of the Revolution, this experience had created a population accustomed to participation in governance.


The Enlightenment and the Language of Rights
The philosophical clarity of the American Revolution was shaped by Enlightenment thinkers. John Locke provided the moral foundation with his theory of natural rights. He argued that individuals possess inherent rights to life, liberty, and property, and that governments exist to protect these rights. When they fail, the people have the authority to replace them.

Montesquieu contributed an institutional perspective, warning that liberty cannot survive when power is concentrated. His advocacy for the separation of powers influenced how colonists interpreted British rule, viewing it as a dangerous accumulation of authority. Jean-Jacques Rousseau expanded the concept of sovereignty, emphasizing that legitimate authority rests with the people. While his direct influence on Jefferson is debated, his ideas were part of the broader intellectual climate that made independence conceivable.


The Voice of Revolution: Henry and Paine
If Enlightenment thinkers provided the framework, it was revolutionary voices that ignited action. Patrick Henry transformed abstract ideas into urgency. In his famous 1775 speech, he declared, “Give me liberty, or give me death!” This was not merely rhetoric, it was a moral line drawn in the sand. Henry’s words captured the growing belief that liberty was not negotiable, and that continued submission to tyranny was unacceptable. Henry’s speech also reframed the colonial debate. It shifted the question from whether grievances existed to whether action was required. In doing so, it helped move public sentiment toward independence.

Similarly, Thomas Paine played a critical role in mobilizing the public. His pamphlet Common Sense translated complex political theory into direct, accessible language. Paine argued that monarchy was inherently flawed and that independence was both necessary and inevitable. His words resonated widely, reaching audiences far beyond the educated elite. Paine wrote not for philosophers, but for the people. He made the case that self-governance was not only a right, but a practical necessity.Together, Henry and Paine demonstrate the power of rhetoric in shaping political change. They bridged the gap between theory and action, turning ideas into momentum.


Print Culture and Revolutionary Discourse
The spread of revolutionary ideas depended on a vibrant print culture. Newspapers, pamphlets, and letters served as the primary means of communication, allowing ideas to circulate rapidly across the colonies. Benjamin Franklin exemplifies this dynamic. His “Silence Dogood” letters championed free expression and civic engagement, helping to establish a culture of public discourse. Through print, ideas could be debated, refined, and disseminated widely. These writings played a crucial role in shaping public opinion. They connected abstract philosophical ideas to everyday concerns, making the case for independence both relatable and compelling. By the time the Declaration was drafted, the intellectual groundwork for independence had been firmly established through years of printed debate.


Classical Influences and Civic Virtue
The intellectual lineage of the American Revolution extends even further back, drawing on classical sources such as Cicero and Polybius. These thinkers emphasized the importance of civic virtue, the dangers of corruption, and the need for balanced governance. Their ideas influenced both Enlightenment philosophers and the American Founders. Jefferson’s reading lists included these classical authors, reflecting a synthesis of ancient and modern thought. The American experiment was not a rejection of the past, but an adaptation of enduring principles to a new context.

Beneath Enlightenment philosophy lies an even deeper intellectual foundation rooted in classical antiquity. The works of Cicero, Aristotle, and other ancient thinkers provided enduring lessons on governance, virtue, and political stability. As highlighted in First Principles by Thomas E. Ricks, the American Founders were not merely revolutionaries—they were students of history. They viewed ancient Greece and Rome as case studies in both success and failure, drawing lessons on how republics rise and fall.

For figures like George Washington, classical ideals of republican virtue were central. Washington’s decision to relinquish power echoed the Roman model of Cincinnatus, reinforcing the principle that leadership should serve the public good rather than personal ambition. John Adams, influenced by Cicero, emphasized the dangers of unchecked democracy and the need for strong institutions. James Madison applied classical insights to institutional design, recognizing the inevitability of factions and creating structures to manage them.

This classical perspective introduced several enduring principles:

  • History as a guide: Past republics provide lessons for modern governance
  • Civic virtue: A republic depends on ethical leadership and engaged citizens
  • Fear of faction: Competing interests must be balanced to prevent domination
  • Balance of liberty and order: Stability requires equilibrium between freedom and control

These ideas reinforced the Founders’ understanding that institutions alone are insufficient. A successful republic requires a culture of responsibility and participation.

The Declaration as a Synthesis

The genius of the Declaration lies in its ability to synthesize these diverse influences. It draws on British legal tradition, colonial experience, Enlightenment philosophy, classical thought, and revolutionary rhetoric. Its structure reflects this synthesis. The preamble articulates universal principles, while the grievances provide specific evidence of their violation. The document functions as a philosophical statement, a legal argument, and a call to action. In doing so, it transforms a collection of ideas into a declaration of independence, both political and intellectual.


Relevance for Public Service Today
For modern public administrators, these ideas remain deeply relevant. The principles of accountability, consent, and the rule of law continue to guide governance. Organizations like the American Society for Public Administration play a vital role in sustaining this legacy. They ensure that the ideals of the founding era are translated into effective and ethical governance. At the same time, contemporary challenges require these principles to be continually reinterpreted. The balance between liberty and security, the role of government in addressing inequality, and the impact of technological change all demand thoughtful engagement with the ideas of the past.


Conclusion: A Tradition Carried Forward
As the United States marks its 250th anniversary, it is important to recognize that the nation’s founding was not a static event but an ongoing process. The ideas that shaped the Declaration continue to evolve, influenced by new experiences, perspectives, and challenges.


The story of American independence is, at its core, a story of ideas debated in books, refined in letters, and ultimately expressed in a single document. It is a story that reminds us of the power of thought to shape reality, and of the responsibility that comes with that power.


The Declaration of Independence did not mark the end of this intellectual journey. It marked a beginning. The task of interpreting and applying its principles now rests with each generation. At 250 years, the question is not simply what these ideas meant in 1776, but what they mean today and what they will mean for the future of public service and democratic governance.

Categories: Uncategorized

AI From Predictive Models to Public Value: AI Theory in Action

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

As May ushers in a season of renewal, marked by Public Service Recognition Week and Memorial Day, it offers a moment to reflect not only on the enduring mission of public service, but also on the forces reshaping it. Among these, artificial intelligence (AI) stands out as more than a technological advancement; it represents a structural shift in how governments operate, make decisions, and deliver value. To understand AI’s implications, we must examine a deeper question: what is intelligence, how has it evolved, and what responsibilities does it now place on public institutions? 

Drawing from A Brief History of Intelligence, intelligence is best understood as an adaptive process rooted in survival. Bennett traces this evolution from simple organisms, such as bacteria responding to chemical gradients, to increasingly complex nervous systems capable of learning and prediction. One key example is reinforcement learning in animals, where behaviors are strengthened or weakened based on outcomes. This biological principle mirrors modern AI systems, particularly those used in predictive analytics and optimization. For instance, just as a rat learns to navigate a maze through reward signals, AI models learn to optimize outcomes through data feedback loops. 

For public administration, this insight is more than theoretical. Government systems operate under similar principles. Policies act as “stimuli,” and public responses serve as feedback. Consider regulatory enforcement within agencies like MSHA: inspections, citations, and compliance assistance function as feedback mechanisms that shape behavior in high-risk environments. If penalties are too weak, unsafe practices persist; if overly punitive, they may encourage concealment rather than compliance. Like biological systems, effective governance depends on calibrating feedback to produce desired outcomes. 

This behavioral dynamic aligns closely with the work of Daniel Kahneman, whose distinction between intuitive (“System 1”) and analytical (“System 2”) thinking highlights the limits of purely rational policymaking. For example, safety compliance in mining is not driven solely by written regulations but also by habits, heuristics, and cultural norms underground. AI systems, particularly those using machine learning, now replicate these patterns by identifying correlations in behavior and predicting outcomes—often faster and at greater scale than human analysts. 

Bennett’s concept of layered intelligence further enhances this understanding. He describes the brain as a hierarchical system in which older, reactive structures coexist with newer, deliberative ones. This layering is evident in government as well. At the

operational level, agencies respond to immediate demands—emergency response, inspections, and frontline service delivery. At the institutional level, they enforce rules and ensure accountability through regulatory frameworks. At the strategic level, they analyze data, develop policy, and plan for the future. 

A clear example of this layered governance can be seen in public health responses during crises. During the COVID-19 pandemic, local governments combined real-time operational decisions (e.g., hospital capacity management), institutional rules (e.g., mask mandates), and strategic modeling (e.g., infection projections). AI enhanced this process by providing predictive analytics, helping leaders anticipate case surges and allocate resources more effectively. The lesson is clear: AI does not replace governance layers, it strengthens their integration. 

However, the promise of AI is not evenly distributed. As emphasized by Brenna Isman of the National Academy of Public Administration, the most significant impacts of AI will occur not in national capitals, but on “Main Street.” For example, municipalities are already using AI to improve service delivery—chatbots handling citizen inquiries, predictive maintenance systems identifying infrastructure failures, and automated permitting processes reducing administrative delays. In Kansas City, AI has been used to streamline loan processing, expanding access to capital for small businesses. Meanwhile, in California, AI-driven automation has improved recycling operations, increasing efficiency while reducing costs. 

Yet these benefits require foundational investments. Communities lacking broadband access or technical expertise cannot effectively adopt AI. This challenge is particularly relevant in rural and post-industrial regions such as Appalachia. Here, the insights from Jump-Starting America become critical. Gruber and Johnson argue that innovation in the United States has become concentrated in a few metropolitan hubs, leaving many regions behind. They propose establishing new “growth centers” anchored by research institutions, federal investment, and private-sector partnerships. 

Applied to AI, this suggests that federal and state governments should actively invest in regional AI ecosystems; supporting universities, workforce training programs, and local innovation hubs. For example, a partnership between a land-grant university and local government could create AI training pipelines for public sector employees, enabling smaller communities to leverage technology without relying entirely on external vendors. This approach not only promotes equity but also strengthens national competitiveness. 

At the same time, AI cannot be separated from the physical infrastructure that enables it. As detailed in Chip War, semiconductors are the backbone of modern computing. The global competition for chip production, particularly between the United States and

China, illustrates how technological capability is tied to geopolitical power. For instance, Taiwan’s dominance in advanced chip manufacturing has made it a focal point of international strategy. Disruptions in this supply chain could significantly impact AI deployment across sectors, including government. 

For public administrators, this underscores the importance of aligning AI strategy with industrial policy. Investments such as the CHIPS and Science Act represent efforts to rebuild domestic semiconductor capacity, ensuring that critical technologies remain accessible and secure. Without such investments, even the most advanced AI strategies could be constrained by external dependencies. 

While Chip War highlights structural dependencies, Recoding America exposes internal barriers within government itself. Pahlka provides numerous examples of how overly complex systems hinder effective service delivery. One notable case is the rollout of Healthcare.gov, where technical failures were exacerbated by fragmented authority and rigid procurement processes. The issue was not a lack of technical expertise, but a system that prevented effective coordination and problem-solving. 

This lesson is directly applicable to AI adoption. Without institutional reform, AI risks becoming another layer of complexity rather than a solution. For example, if an agency deploys an AI tool for case processing but retains outdated approval workflows, the overall system may remain inefficient. Successful implementation requires rethinking processes, empowering frontline workers, and aligning policy design with operational realities. 

These challenges are not new. As explored in Accessory to War, technological advancement has long been intertwined with national priorities. Tyson and Lang demonstrate how innovations, from celestial navigation to satellite systems, were often driven by military and strategic needs. For example, the development of accurate star charts enabled naval dominance, while Cold War investments in space technology led to advancements that now underpin modern GPS systems. 

The implication for AI is clear: technological progress is rarely neutral. It reflects the priorities and values of the societies that invest in it. Today, AI development is shaped by both economic competition and national security concerns. Public administrators must therefore ensure that AI is guided not only by efficiency, but by democratic values. 

This perspective aligns with the concept of The Technological Republic, which calls for aligning technological innovation with public purpose through coordinated national effort. In this framework, AI becomes a national project—similar to the interstate highway system or the Apollo program. Such projects require long-term investment, cross-sector collaboration, and a clear commitment to public outcomes.

Importantly, this national project must incorporate place-based strategies, as emphasized in Jump-Starting America. It must also address infrastructure dependencies highlighted in Chip War and institutional barriers identified in Recoding America. Without integrating these elements, AI adoption risks being fragmented, inequitable, and ineffective. 

Ethical considerations further reinforce the need for a coordinated approach. Public trust is the foundation of governance, and AI must strengthen that trust. This includes addressing algorithmic bias—for example, ensuring that predictive policing models do not disproportionately target certain communities—and promoting transparency so that decisions can be understood and challenged. Accountability mechanisms must also be established to ensure that AI systems operate within legal and ethical boundaries. 

As explored in The Singularity Is Near and The Singularity Is Nearer, by Ray Kurzweil, the pace of technological change is accelerating. While these works often focus on long-term possibilities, their relevance to public administration is immediate. Governments must operate in an environment where innovation outpaces regulation, requiring adaptive governance frameworks capable of responding to rapid change. 

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, the integration of AI into governance represents a defining moment. The nation’s founding principles (democracy, accountability, and service) must guide how these technologies are adopted. The question is not whether AI will transform the government, but whether that transformation will advance the public good. 

In conclusion, the evolution of intelligence—from simple biological systems to advanced artificial models—provides a powerful framework for understanding AI’s role in governance. Intelligence is not about perfection, but about the capacity to learn and adapt. Public administration must embrace this mindset, leveraging AI to enhance decision-making, strengthen feedback systems, and improve outcomes. 

At the same time, it must recognize that technology is embedded within broader systems from economic, institutional, and geopolitical. By integrating insights from A Brief History of Intelligence, Jump-Starting America, Chip War, Recoding America, and Accessory to War, public leaders can approach AI not as an isolated tool, but as part of a larger national project. 

By treating AI as a shared public endeavor—grounded in equity, accountability, and strategic coordination—the United States can ensure that this transformative technology serves as a cornerstone of a modern technological republic, advancing opportunity, resilience, and public value for generations to come.

Bringing AI to Main Street: What It Means for Communities and Public Service

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

As artificial intelligence (AI) continues to reshape industries and institutions, its most profound impacts may not be felt in Silicon Valley or Washington, D.C., but on “Main Street”—in the cities, towns, and communities where public services are delivered and local economies thrive. A recent discussion led by Brenna Isman of the National Academy of Public Administration (click here to view the recording) offers a timely and grounded look at how AI is transforming public administration at the local level—and what it will take for communities to succeed. 

AI’s Promise—and Its Limits 

At the national level, projections suggest AI could significantly boost productivity and economic growth over the next decade. But as Isman emphasized, those gains are not guaranteed at the local level. Communities must take deliberate steps to ensure AI-driven benefits are equitably distributed and aligned with local needs. 

Rather than eliminating jobs outright, AI is more likely to reshape the nature of work—automating routine tasks while enabling workers to focus on higher-value responsibilities. However, this transition brings real risks, particularly for workers in roles susceptible to automation. The takeaway is clear: adaptation,not avoidance,is the path forward. 

Understanding the AI Ecosystem 

The report introduces a helpful framework for understanding how AI operates within communities. It identifies three key groups: 

  • Innovators, who develop AI technologies 
  • Implementers, who apply those technologies in real-world settings
  • Enablers, who provide the infrastructure, policy support, and resources needed to sustain AI systems 

No single group can drive success alone. Effective AI adoption depends on coordination across sectors, including government, private industry, academia, and civil society. 

What Makes a Community “AI-Ready”? 

  1. Strong Digital Infrastructure Reliable broadband, cloud computing capacity, and modern power grids are foundational. Without these, AI adoption simply cannot scale. From digital literacy to advanced technical training, communities must invest in reskilling and upskilling their workforce. Partnerships with universities, community colleges, and even public libraries are proving critical. 
  2. Workforce Development
  3. Open Data and Governance High-quality data is the fuel of AI. But as participants noted, “garbage in, garbage out” remains a real concern. Effective data governance, transparency, and privacy protections are essential to building trust and ensuring ethical use. 
  4. Community Engagement Perhaps most importantly, successful communities treat AI not as something done to them, but something developed with them. Town halls, surveys, and public forums help ensure that residents understand—and help shape—the role of AI in their lives. 

Opportunities and Tradeoffs 

Communities that are successfully integrating AI tend to share several core characteristics: AI is already improving service delivery in areas such as customer service, lending decisions, and municipal operations. Case examples highlighted uses ranging from AI-powered loan processing in Kansas City to automation in manufacturing and recycling in California.

But these benefits come with tradeoffs. One of the most debated issues is the rise of data centers, which are essential to AI infrastructure but raise concerns about energy consumption, water usage, and environmental impact. Some states are even considering moratoriums on new data center development as they weigh economic benefits against community costs. 

The Workforce Question 

A particularly striking insight from the research is that AI often delivers the greatest productivity gains for less experienced workers, helping close performance gaps. This underscores the importance of accessible training programs and inclusive workforce strategies. Encouragingly, communities of all sizes are finding creative ways to build capacity. Smaller towns, often in partnership with nearby universities, are offering training programs and leveraging free tools such as online learning platforms. The common thread is not size or wealth—but commitment and creativity.

Governance, Ethics, and Trust 

As AI adoption accelerates, questions of governance loom large. Who ensures systems are fair? Who audits algorithms? How do we prevent bias and protect privacy? 

Emerging policies—such as requirements for chatbots to disclose that they are AI—signal a growing recognition of these challenges. Still, many public organizations are only beginning to grapple with the need for robust governance frameworks, ethical guardrails, and accountability mechanisms. For public administrators, this represents both a challenge and an opportunity: to shape AI in a way that reflects the values of equity, transparency, and public service. 

A Call to Action 

The overarching message from the discussion is one of urgency balanced with responsibility: 

  • Start now—waiting increases the risk of falling behind 
  • Invest in foundations—infrastructure, workforce, and governance
  • Center equity—ensure all communities benefit, not just the most resourced
  • Collaborate widely—no single entity can do this alone 

For communities like those in Appalachia and across West Virginia, the stakes are especially high. AI presents an opportunity to overcome long-standing barriers in education, healthcare, and economic development—but only if implemented thoughtfully and inclusively. 

Looking Ahead 

AI is not a distant future—it is already reshaping how governments operate and how communities function. The question is not whether to engage with AI, but how to do so responsibly. As public servants, the task ahead is clear: to ensure that this powerful technology strengthens, not undermines, the trust, effectiveness, and humanity at the heart of public service.

Recap of Federal Employees to Be Honored at Community Coffee Event in Beckley

On April 18, 2026, Young Government Leaders (YGL) hosted a Federal Employee Appreciation Coffee Event at Chocolate Moose in Beckley, West Virginia. As part of YGL’s broader national initiative to recognize and uplift public servants, the event offered a space for connection, conversation, and community among federal employees in the region.


The event was organized and hosted by Ryan Heimer, a member of the American Society for Public Administration National Capital Area Chapter (NCAC), where he serves as Communications Officer. Demonstrating a strong commitment to public service and community engagement, Ryan led local coordination efforts, brought together key partners, and helped ensure that attendees had access not only to a welcoming environment, but also to meaningful resources.


Among those partners was Fayette Federal Credit Union, which supports federal employees across the region. Their involvement highlighted the importance of local institutions in sustaining and supporting the federal workforce, particularly in communities like Beckley. By connecting attendees with practical financial resources and services, the event extended beyond appreciation to tangible support.


While attendance was modest, the event underscored an important truth: meaningful engagement does not require a large crowd. The smaller setting created an environment where attendees could connect more personally by sharing stories from their careers, reflecting on the challenges facing today’s federal workforce, and reaffirming a shared commitment to public service.


A highlight of the event was the participation of the American Federation of Government Employees (AFGE) Women’s and Fair Practices Department. Their presence brought added depth to the gathering by providing valuable resources and information focused on workplace equity, employee rights, and support systems available to federal workers. Their engagement complemented YGL’s mission by ensuring attendees left not only feeling appreciated, but also better informed and supported.


Throughout the morning, conversations touched on professional development, navigating change within federal service, and the importance of building strong networks—particularly in smaller communities like Beckley. Events like this reinforce that public service is not just about the work itself, but about the people who carry it forward every day.


The Beckley coffee event reflects YGL’s and AFGE’s continued commitment to reaching federal employees where they are, from across agencies, regions, and roles. Through leadership, partnership, and intentional outreach, even small gatherings can create lasting impact. YGL is helping to strengthen the fabric of public service—one conversation, one connection, and one community at a time.

Categories: Event, Latest News, NCAC

America 250: Jefferson v. Hamilton Ideals on Governance

Submitted by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

Jefferson’s ideal was rooted in liberty, restraint, and distrust of concentrated power. He believed republican government worked best when authority remained close to the people, when the national government was limited, and when public life was anchored in civic virtue rather than bureaucracy or financial centralization. Jefferson feared that too much federal power would reproduce the corruption and hierarchy Americans had just rejected. His vision leaned toward a stricter reading of constitutional power and a belief that self-government flourished best in decentralized institutions. 

Hamilton’s ideal, by contrast, centered on energy, capacity, and national cohesion. He believed the young republic would fail without a strong central government able to stabilize finances, maintain public credit, coordinate national policy, and command public confidence. Hamilton did not see government strength as the enemy of liberty; he saw it as the condition for survival and prosperity in a fragile new nation. His political outlook favored broader constitutional interpretation and durable national institutions capable of turning revolutionary aspiration into effective governance. 

This was never merely a personal rivalry. It was a foundational disagreement over the purpose of government itself. Jefferson asked how liberty could be preserved against overreach. Hamilton asked how the republic could endure without administrative strength. Jefferson worried about power becoming distant from the people. Hamilton worried about the government becoming too weak to govern at all. Both concerns remain familiar to anyone working in public administration today. 

Jefferson v. Hamilton 

That is why the Semiquincentennial is such a useful civic moment. It encourages reflection not only on what the founders said, but on what public servants must do. Modern administrators work in institutions that carry both Jeffersonian and Hamiltonian inheritance. When they defend transparency, local responsiveness, civic trust, and constitutional restraint, they echo Jefferson. When they build competent agencies, manage public resources, coordinate across jurisdictions, and respond to national crises with professionalism and scale, they echo Hamilton. The daily work of public administration often lies in balancing both traditions rather than choosing one absolutely. 

Thomas Paine adds another important dimension to this conversation. His writings pressed the revolutionary generation to see government as a public instrument tied to the welfare of ordinary people, not merely the privilege of elites. Paine’s moral urgency helps connect the Jefferson-Hamilton debate to the ethical core of public service: government must be judged not only by its structure, but by whether it serves the common good. In that sense, the question is not simply whether one prefers limited government or strong government, but whether public institutions are acting with legitimacy, competence, and fidelity to the public they exist to serve. 

For today’s public administrators, that may be the most valuable lesson of all. The founding era did not leave behind one settled blueprint. It left behind a constitutional democracy shaped by argument; between liberty and capacity, localism and nationhood, restraint and action. The enduring strength of the American government has often come from wrestling with those tensions rather than pretending they do not exist. As the nation nears its 250th birthday on July 4, 2026, public servants have an opportunity to frame their work within this longer civic tradition. The American experiment has always depended on people willing to translate ideals into institutions and principles into practice. Jefferson reminds us that the government must remain accountable to liberty. Hamilton reminds us that liberty without effective governance can become fragile and unprotected. Between them lies the continuing challenge of democratic administration: building a government strong enough to serve, but restrained enough to remain the people’s own. 

Reflecting on the works of Jon Meacham’s The Soul of America adds another layer by emphasizing that democratic resilience depends not only on constitutions and institutions, but on civic character. American democracy has survived not because it avoided conflict, but because enough citizens and leaders chose responsibility over cynicism at key moments. That idea is especially meaningful for public administrators. Administrative work often appears procedural, technical, and routine. Yet much of democratic life is preserved through ordinary acts of competence, honesty, and fairness. The Soul of American does just state government is not found only in founding documents or great speeches. It is also found in the daily, disciplined work of public servants who keep institutions trustworthy.