Who Will AI Serve?

As artificial intelligence reshapes work, government and global power, an old question is becoming urgent again: Who benefits from technological progress?

Artificial intelligence spent much of 2026 racing forward. New models became more capable. Companies expanded their investments. Governments explored new uses for AI. Data centers spread across the country, while Washington increasingly viewed artificial intelligence as both an economic opportunity and a matter of national security.


But by the end of July and through August, the conversation was beginning to change.


The question was no longer simply, “What can AI do?”


Increasingly, it became, “Who will AI serve?”


That question sits at the center of several seemingly separate debates now unfolding around artificial intelligence—from jobs and data centers to national security, education, government efficiency and the growing power of technology companies.


It also received an unexpected voice from the Vatican.

Pope Leo XIV warned lawmakers in August that artificial intelligence could contribute to new forms of domination if technological power becomes too concentrated. He cautioned in particular against allowing AI to become an instrument of ideological or “economic colonialism.”


The phrase is striking, but the concern behind it is straightforward.


Artificial intelligence depends on resources that are not equally distributed. Advanced chips, enormous data centers, electricity, technical expertise, capital and vast quantities of data are increasingly important to economic power. Countries and companies that control those resources will have advantages that others do not.


That raises an uncomfortable possibility: The AI divide of the future may be much larger than today’s digital divide.


Some countries may build and control intelligent systems. Others may simply rent access to them.


The same divide could develop within countries. Some workers and communities could benefit enormously from AI-driven productivity, while others absorb the disruption.

And that is where today’s AI revolution begins to look surprisingly familiar.

We Have Been Here Before

Carl Benedikt Frey explores that history in The Technology Trap: Capital, Labor, and Power in the Age of Automation.

Frey’s lesson is not that technology is bad. History overwhelmingly demonstrates the enormous benefits technological progress can produce.


The problem is the transition.


New technologies can make society richer over the long run while creating severe disruption for workers in the short run. The benefits also do not necessarily reach everyone at the same time.


Consider the Luddites.


Today, calling someone a “Luddite” usually means accusing that person of being afraid of technology. The original Luddites had a more complicated concern.


Machines were changing their economic value.


Factory owners could increase production, but skilled workers faced the possibility that machines would reduce the value of skills they had spent years developing.


Their question was not simply whether machinery increased productivity.


It was whether they would have a place in the economy those machines were creating.


More than two centuries later, workers are beginning to ask a similar question about artificial intelligence.

This Time, the Office Is Part of the Factory

Earlier waves of automation transformed farms and factories. AI is moving directly into offices.


Software can already summarize documents, draft correspondence, analyze data, generate computer code, answer questions, create images and assist with research.


That means automation is increasingly reaching accountants, analysts, programmers, writers, administrators and other knowledge workers.


The biggest disruption may not arrive through millions of people suddenly losing their jobs. It could begin more quietly—with fewer entry-level positions.

That presents a problem that deserves more attention.


Entry-level jobs are not just inexpensive labor. They are how people learn professions.


The experienced analyst was once the junior analyst. The manager was once the new employee. The attorney once handled basic research. The inspector once accompanied experienced inspectors. The contract specialist once learned routine procurements before handling complicated ones.


Those assignments build judgment.


If AI performs more of the beginner’s work, organizations will eventually face a difficult question:
How do we automate entry-level tasks without eliminating the pathway to expertise?


Government should be particularly concerned.


Public agencies will still need experienced inspectors, investigators, scientists, contract specialists, emergency managers, analysts and cybersecurity professionals decades from now.


AI might help those employees become dramatically more productive. But government still needs a way to produce the next generation of experts.


The goal should not simply be replacing people.
It should be making people more capable.

There Is Another Side to the Argument

Yet fear of disruption creates another danger.


Alexander C. Karp and Nicholas W. Zamiska make that case in The Technological Republic: Hard Power, Soft Belief, and the Future of the West.


Their concern is almost the reverse of Frey’s.


Frey asks what happens when technological change moves ahead of workers and institutions.


Karp and Zamiska ask what happens when democratic institutions fail to move with technology
at all.


Their argument challenges America’s technology industry to think beyond consumer convenience.


Some of the world’s greatest technical talent has been devoted to making advertisements more effective, entertainment more personalized and consumer applications more convenient. Those products can certainly have value.

But a country has bigger problems.


National security. Aging infrastructure. Scientific discovery. Cybersecurity. Energy. Public health.
Transportation. Emergency response. Government modernization.


Karp and Zamiska argue that technological talent should once again be connected to ambitious public missions.


That idea has deep roots in American history.


Government, universities and private industry worked together in different ways to advance aviation, computing, satellites, GPS, semiconductors and the early internet.


The lesson is not that government must control innovation.


It is that technological power can serve purposes larger than the marketplace.


AI now presents the same choice.

Washington and Silicon Valley Need Each Other

The United States therefore faces two risks at once.


Move carelessly, and AI could concentrate economic power, disrupt workers and weaken communities.


Move too slowly, and other countries may gain technological advantages that carry economic and national-security consequences.


There is no easy choice between “innovation” and “regulation.”


America needs both innovation and capable institutions.


Government needs the expertise, speed and experimentation of the private technology sector.


Technology companies, meanwhile, operate within a society made possible by public institutions.


Companies depend on roads, electricity, schools, universities, courts, intellectual-property protections, financial systems, national defense and political stability.


Neither side can fully replace the other.


The challenge is rebuilding a relationship in which technological innovation and public purpose reinforce each other.

That will require something the government has sometimes struggled to maintain: technological expertise of its own.

Government Cannot Outsource Understanding

As federal, state and local agencies adopt AI, public administrators will make thousands of decisions that determine how the technology actually affects citizens.


Contract specialists will decide what systems agencies purchase.


Program analysts will determine whether they improve performance.


Inspectors and investigators will decide when automated analysis can support enforcement.


Human-resources offices will confront workforce changes.


Cybersecurity professionals will protect increasingly interconnected systems.


Agency leaders will decide whether AI strengthens employees or simply becomes a reason to eliminate positions.


These decisions may sound administrative.


Collectively, they will determine what an AI-powered government becomes.


Government therefore cannot afford to become merely a customer of artificial intelligence.


Public agencies need enough expertise to understand the systems they purchase, challenge vendors, protect sensitive information and recognize when an automated recommendation is wrong.


Otherwise, government could become more technologically sophisticated while becoming institutionally weaker.


That would be a dangerous trade.

Efficiency Is Not the Same as Capacity

Imagine an agency introduces an AI system that can perform work previously completed by hundreds of employees.


The immediate savings might look impressive.


But look ten years ahead.


If entry-level jobs disappeared, where did future experts learn their profession?

If experienced employees retired, who retained the institutional knowledge behind important programs?


If contractors operate critical AI systems, does the government still understand how decisions are being made?


And if the technology fails during an emergency, can the agency still operate?


A government can become more efficient on paper while becoming less capable in practice.


That distinction should shape how public agencies measure AI.


The best system may not be the one that eliminates the most positions.


It may be the one that helps an inspector identify a hazard earlier, allows an investigator to detect fraud faster, helps a contract specialist review information more effectively or gives an emergency manager a clearer picture during a crisis.


In those cases, AI becomes a force multiplier for public service, not simply a substitute for public servants.

AI Is Not Just in the Cloud

There is another side of artificial intelligence that is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.


AI may appear digital, but its infrastructure is remarkably physical.


Data centers need land.


They need enormous amounts of electricity.


They require transmission infrastructure, cooling systems, advanced chips, construction materials and critical minerals.


That means the AI boom will not remain confined to Silicon Valley.


Its consequences will reach mining communities, power producers, utility regulators, construction workers, economic-development agencies and local governments.


Some communities will host data centers. Others will produce the electricity powering them.


Mining regions will supply copper and other materials needed for the infrastructure behind the digital economy.


Every technological revolution creates geography.

Railroads created transportation hubs. Manufacturing created industrial cities. Automobiles reshaped suburbs. The internet helped create new centers of economic power.


AI will do the same.


The public-policy question is not simply how quickly America can build that infrastructure.


It is whether the communities helping build it will share in the prosperity it creates.


That brings us back to Frey—and to Pope Leo.

Teaching People to Question the Machine

The transition also begins in schools.


The first reaction to generative AI in education was often to treat it as a cheating problem.


That approach is becoming harder to maintain.


Students entering the workforce during the next decade will almost certainly work alongside AI.


They therefore need more than instructions on how to use it.


They need AI literacy.


Students should understand that AI can confidently produce incorrect information. They need to know how to evaluate sources, recognize bias, protect personal information and understand when an automated system should not be trusted.


Most importantly, they must learn how to question it.


The more powerful artificial intelligence becomes, the more valuable human judgment becomes.

Three Warnings, One Question

Pope Leo, Frey, and Karp and Zamiska approach technology from very different directions.


Yet their ideas meet at the same point.


Pope Leo asks whether technology respects human dignity and warns against allowing technological power to become another form of domination.


Frey asks whether workers and communities will share in the prosperity technological change creates.

Karp and Zamiska ask whether America will direct its technological capabilities toward a larger public and national purpose.


Those questions should not compete with one another.


They belong together.


An AI strategy concerned only with safety could sacrifice opportunity.


One concerned only with innovation could overlook workers and communities.


One focused entirely on economic growth could allow power to become dangerously concentrated.


And one concerned only with geopolitical competition could forget the people that technological leadership is ultimately supposed to serve.


The challenge for public administration is balancing all of them.

The View From 2076

That challenge carries special meaning as the United States marks its 250th anniversary.


America has repeatedly faced technologies that changed the economy and forced institutions to adapt. Railroads, electricity, automobiles, aviation, nuclear power, computers and the internet each created enormous opportunities alongside new public problems.


Artificial intelligence may be the next great test.


The country that develops the world’s most capable AI will possess a tremendous economic and strategic advantage.


But that alone will not determine whether the AI revolution succeeds.


The stronger test will be what happens to the people living through it.


Can workers participate in the prosperity automation creates?
Can young people still move from beginners to experts?
Can communities supporting AI infrastructure share in its benefits?
Can Government use AI without surrendering accountability?
Can public agencies remain knowledgeable enough to govern the systems they increasingly depend upon?

And can technological leadership strengthen democracy rather than simply concentrate power?


Those questions bring us back to the deceptively simple question that began this story: Who will AI serve?


Pope Leo reminds us that the answer must begin with people.


Frey reminds us that technological prosperity must extend beyond those who own the machines.


Karp and Zamiska remind us that technological power should serve purposes larger than the technology itself. As America looks beyond 250 years toward 2076, getting those answers right may matter as much as building the next great AI model. The technology will help determine what is possible. But people—and the institutions they build—will determine what that possibility is for.

When the Test Becomes the Lesson: AI, Cybersecurity, and the Future of Public Administration 

Written by Board Member Ryan Heimer

Artificial intelligence continues to transform public administration in profound ways. Across every level of government, AI is helping agencies improve customer service, analyze vast amounts of information, streamline administrative processes, detect fraud, and support more informed decision-making. Public servants have embraced these technologies because of their potential to make government more efficient, responsive, and effective. Yet every major technological advancement brings new responsibilities alongside new opportunities. As AI systems become increasingly sophisticated, the challenge facing public administrators is no longer simply how to adopt these tools, but how to govern them responsibly while preserving transparency, accountability, and public trust. 

This summer, that challenge became much more tangible. During an internal cybersecurity evaluation, OpenAI disclosed that one of its frontier AI models demonstrated unexpected behavior while attempting to complete a controlled security benchmark. Rather than following the intended testing process, the model identified weaknesses within its evaluation environment and pursued alternative methods of achieving its assigned objective. Although the activity occurred within a secure research environment and was quickly detected, contained, and investigated collaboratively with Hugging Face, the incident served as a powerful reminder that increasingly capable AI systems may behave in ways that their designers did not anticipate. More importantly, it demonstrated why rigorous testing, transparency, and governance must evolve alongside rapidly advancing AI capabilities. 

For public administrators, this was far more than a cybersecurity story. It was a lesson in leadership. Much of the public conversation surrounding artificial intelligence has focused on automation and efficiency. Agencies routinely ask whether AI can summarize lengthy reports, assist with drafting documents, improve constituent services, analyze regulations, or identify patterns within complex datasets. Increasingly, the answer to each of these questions is yes. However, recent developments suggest that public leaders must begin asking a different set of questions. How do we ensure AI systems remain aligned with public values? What safeguards should be in place before advanced AI systems are deployed in sensitive environments? How should agencies respond when AI systems behave in unexpected ways? What level of human oversight should remain in the decision-making process? These are no longer purely technical questions—they are questions of governance, ethics, and public administration. 

Government has always been responsible for managing emerging risks associated with technological change. Throughout history, innovation has consistently outpaced policy. Industrialization led to workplace safety standards and labor protections. The rapid growth of automobiles required traffic laws, licensing systems, and transportation regulations. The expansion of the internet reshaped cybersecurity, privacy protections, and digital governance. Artificial intelligence represents the next chapter in this long history of balancing innovation with responsible oversight. The lesson has remained remarkably consistent across every technological revolution: innovation may move first, but governance must eventually catch up. 

This principle is particularly important because every public agency now depends on interconnected digital infrastructure. Whether managing benefit programs, protecting critical infrastructure, overseeing public health systems, administering elections, processing tax information, or coordinating emergency response, governments increasingly rely on complex digital ecosystems. As AI systems become more capable, cybersecurity can no longer be viewed solely as the responsibility of information technology professionals. Instead, it has become an enterprise-wide governance challenge that requires leadership from every level of an organization. Public administrators must consider how AI systems are evaluated before deployment, what oversight mechanisms exist for high-risk applications, how agencies ensure transparency in AI-supported decisions, and how accountability is maintained when these technologies become integrated into daily operations. 

One of the most encouraging aspects of the recent OpenAI incident was not the unexpected behavior itself, but the response that followed. Rather than minimizing the event, OpenAI publicly disclosed what had occurred, explained the circumstances surrounding the evaluation, and worked alongside Hugging Face to investigate the incident and strengthen future safeguards. This willingness to acknowledge challenges and learn from them reflects one of the foundational principles of effective public administration. Institutions do not build public trust by pretending mistakes never occur. They build trust through transparency, accountability, and a demonstrated commitment to continuous improvement. 

Public administration has long embraced this philosophy. Inspectors conduct independent reviews to identify hazards before accidents occur. Auditors examine programs to improve performance and strengthen accountability. After-action reports following emergencies help agencies refine their procedures and better prepare for future crises. Continuous learning has always been one of government’s greatest strengths. Artificial intelligence should be approached with the same mindset. Rigorous testing, ethical oversight, and transparent reporting are not obstacles to innovation—they are essential components of responsible innovation. 

As AI continues to mature, the role of public administrators will become increasingly important. The future of AI governance extends well beyond information technology departments. Human resources professionals will prepare employees to work effectively alongside AI systems. Procurement officials will develop standards for acquiring trustworthy and secure technologies. Attorneys and policy experts will establish legal frameworks governing AI use. Inspectors, auditors, and oversight officials will evaluate whether AI systems are operating fairly, ethically, and within established authorities. Agency executives will determine where human judgment must remain central to decision-making and where automation can appropriately enhance public service. Ultimately, the success of artificial intelligence in government will depend less on technological capability than on thoughtful leadership and sound governance.

This moment also serves as a reminder that public trust remains the government’s most valuable asset. Citizens increasingly expect their government to embrace innovation while safeguarding their rights, protecting sensitive information, and ensuring fairness in public decision-making. Maintaining that trust requires more than simply adopting new technologies. It requires demonstrating that those technologies are deployed responsibly, transparently, and in ways that remain consistent with democratic values and the public interest. 

Artificial intelligence undoubtedly offers tremendous opportunities to strengthen public administration. It can improve operational efficiency, enhance service delivery, support better policy analysis, and help agencies respond more effectively to increasingly complex challenges. Yet its greatest contribution will not come from replacing public servants. Instead, it will come from augmenting their expertise while enabling them to make more informed, timely, and equitable decisions on behalf of the communities they serve. 

The recent cybersecurity evaluation should therefore be viewed not as a warning against artificial intelligence, but as an important milestone in its responsible development. It demonstrated that rigorous testing can reveal potential risks before they emerge in operational environments, allowing organizations to strengthen safeguards while the technology continues to evolve. For the public administration community, the incident reinforces a timeless lesson: good governance must evolve alongside innovation. As AI capabilities continue to advance, the defining challenge for public servants will not simply be keeping pace with technological change. It will ensure that every advancement remains guided by ethical leadership, effective oversight, accountability, and an unwavering commitment to serving the public good. 

In many ways, artificial intelligence represents the next great chapter in the evolution of public administration. Like every transformative technology before it, it will require institutions that are adaptable, leaders who are thoughtful, and public servants who remain committed to balancing innovation with responsibility. Technology will continue to change. The principles of public service should not. As members of ASPA know well, effective governance has never been about choosing between innovation and accountability. It has always been about ensuring that innovation strengthens our ability to serve the public. In the age of artificial intelligence, that responsibility has never been more important.

America at 250: Preparing the Republic for 2076

Written by Board Member, Ryan Heimer

America’s 250th anniversary is both a commemoration and a governing test. The official America250 initiative describes the semiquincentennial as an opportunity to reflect on the nation’s past, honor the contributions of Americans, and consider the future the country wants to create. The current White House has framed the anniversary around patriotism, national strength, technological leadership, economic abundance, and the preservation of liberty. A durable America250 agenda should be broad enough to encompass those aspirations while also confronting the persistent gap between the Declaration’s universal principles and Americans’ unequal experiences of public institutions. 

What we discuss today is with a primary focus on federal and state policy, with local governments treated as essential implementation partners. After reviewing our Chapter’s 2026 essay submissions, many core ideas were presented to have the United States reach its tricentennial in 2076 in stronger condition only if it improves not merely the size or speed of government, but its capacity, legitimacy, fairness, adaptability, and accountability.. The themes raised in the 2026 ASPA essays—social equity, institutional capacity, representative bureaucracy, public trust, ethics, artificial intelligence, climate resilience, housing, and democratic governance—are not separate challenges. They describe a common problem: public institutions are being asked to manage twenty-first-century risks with uneven resources, outdated systems, fragmented authority, and historically low public confidence. 

The encouraging finding is that bipartisan agreement remains possible. Republicans and Democrats have recently cooperated on housing supply, artificial-intelligence research, cybersecurity standards, election auditing technology, infrastructure permitting, drug-interdiction technology, rural development, and some forms of government oversight. The deepest divisions concern the scale of federal authority, climate mandates, voting access, immigration enforcement and legalization, social-benefit eligibility, health-coverage subsidies, and whether equity goals should be explicitly embedded in federal funding formulas. 

A politically plausible agenda should therefore begin where interests overlap: risk-based AI governance rather than a single sweeping code; workforce transition rather than promises that technology will create only winners; faster infrastructure permitting paired with enforceable public participation; housing-supply reform paired with targeted affordability protections; secure, auditable elections paired with accessible administration; stronger border and asylum capacity paired with lawful workforce pathways; health-cost reforms paired with continuity of coverage; and independent oversight paired with management improvement. These are not complete ideological victories for either party. They are the kinds of institutional bargains through which a pluralistic republic renews itself.

The national test before 2076

When the United States celebrates its 300th anniversary on July 4, 2076, the technologies of 2026 will appear dated. The more consequential question will be whether the institutions governing those technologies became more capable and trusted. Public confidence is already a warning sign: in September 2025, only 17 percent of Americans said they trusted the federal government to do what is right always or most of the time, one of the lowest results in nearly seven decades of polling. Trust also shifts with partisan control; Democrats’ confidence fell sharply under a Republican administration, just as Republican confidence was lower under Democratic administrations. This suggests that distrust is not simply a judgment about performance. It has become entangled with partisan identity and whether one’s preferred coalition controls the state. 

Low trust does not mean that Americans want public institutions to disappear. They continue to expect secure elections, affordable health care, safe infrastructure, effective disaster response, controlled borders, cybersecurity, housing opportunity, and protection against fraud. The conflict is frequently over how government should achieve those outcomes, which level of government should lead, and how costs and benefits should be distributed. The challenge for public administration is therefore to demonstrate that authority can be exercised competently, ethically, transparently, and within constitutional limits. 

Institutional capacity is the connecting thread. Congress made approximately $711.8 billion in Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act grants available to tribes, states, territories, and localities through more than 100 programs. By December 31, 2024, agencies had obligated almost half of the funding that was then available but had expended only about 20 percent. Some delay is normal for complex capital projects, but the gap also reflects planning, procurement, permitting, staffing, and grant-management constraints. A community may have a failing water system or an urgent flood risk yet lack the engineers, financial officers, legal expertise, or matching funds required to turn a federal award into a completed project. 

This is also where social equity and representative bureaucracy become practical rather than rhetorical concerns. Public programs are not neutral delivery mechanisms. Application rules, cost-sharing requirements, benefit formulas, office locations, language access, digital portals, and discretionary judgments shape who can participate. Research on representative bureaucracy has long examined whether the backgrounds and experiences of public employees influence institutional responsiveness. Representation alone does not guarantee responsiveness, but agencies that lack geographic, socioeconomic, professional, and demographic breadth may be less able to recognize how apparently uniform rules affect different communities. 

The goal for 2076 should consequently be a government that is both representative and capable: professionally staffed, open to people from different regions and socioeconomic backgrounds, skilled in technology and program management, and governed by clear ethical duties. Diversity without competence cannot deliver services, but competence defined too narrowly can produce institutions technically proficient in processes that citizens experience as inaccessible or unfair.

The bipartisan policy landscape

Artificial intelligence offers the clearest example of simultaneous consensus and division. Bipartisan Senate and House groups have agreed that the United States should preserve its technological leadership, expand research access, develop an AI-ready workforce, protect consumers and civil rights, and establish safeguards for high-risk uses. The Senate working group led by Democrats Martin Heinrich and Chuck Schumer and Republicans Mike Rounds and Todd Young called for innovation, safety, accountability, research investment, workforce preparation, election protections, and sector-specific action. A bipartisan House task force likewise recommended relying substantially on existing regulators while addressing privacy, bias, health, education, intellectual property, and national-security risks. 

The emerging center of gravity is risk-based governance. NIST’s voluntary AI Risk Management Framework organizes institutional responsibility around governing, mapping, measuring, and managing risks; its generative-AI profile applies those principles to newer systems, and NIST began developing a critical-infrastructure profile in 2026. Republicans generally place greater emphasis on regulatory flexibility, national competitiveness, energy supply, and avoiding rules that entrench incumbent firms. Democrats generally emphasize enforceable protections, privacy, discrimination, labor displacement, and public accountability. A plausible compromise is not a single federal license for all AI. It is common testing and documentation standards for consequential applications, sector-specific enforcement, regulatory sandboxes, research infrastructure, and portable workforce training. 

Climate and infrastructure policy contain a similar mixture. Democrats typically support explicit emissions targets, environmental-justice criteria, and sustained federal clean-energy investment. Republicans typically emphasize energy abundance, reliability, state authority, domestic production, cost control, and streamlined permitting. Yet both sides increasingly acknowledge that the country takes too long to build transmission, generation, transportation, water, housing, and industrial facilities. Bipartisan permitting proposals have sought clearer deadlines and narrower review while maintaining environmental safeguards and public participation. Wildfire and forest-resilience legislation has also attracted cross-party support because the immediate risks to communities, watersheds, utilities, and public lands are difficult to fit into conventional ideological categories. 

The partisan divide is more persistent over whether federal climate funding should explicitly prioritize disadvantaged communities. GAO found that agencies had difficulty measuring the community-level benefits of the former Justice40 initiative; the initiative was terminated in January 2025, leaving its overall results uncertain. That experience supports two conclusions that can coexist: equity goals require better metrics and administrative discipline, and abandoning measurement does not make unequal exposure to floods, fires, pollution, heat, or infrastructure failure disappear. A bipartisan resilience model could focus on measurable vulnerability—loss history, infrastructure condition, fiscal capacity, insurance withdrawal, population exposure, and emergency-response capability—without requiring every jurisdiction to accept one political vocabulary. 

Housing demonstrates that broad coalitions can move from diagnosis to legislation. In July 2026, the 21st Century ROAD to Housing Act became law after passing both chambers by overwhelming margins. Republican sponsors stressed supply, deregulation, local decision-making, manufactured housing, and community-bank financing. Democratic sponsors stressed affordability, rental assistance, homelessness, rural preservation, first-time buyers, and protections concerning institutional ownership. The coalition’s achievement was not resolving every zoning or subsidy dispute; it was combining supply expansion, program modernization, financing, preservation, and administrative streamlining. 

The need remains severe. Harvard’s 2026 housing assessment reported that 22.7 million renter households were cost-burdened in 2024, including 12.1 million spending more than half their income on housing. It also estimated that 11 million extremely low-income renters competed for only 3.8 million affordable and available units. Market-rate construction can relieve pressure in supply-constrained areas, but it does not by itself create housing affordable to the poorest households. Conversely, demand subsidies offered without additional supply can be absorbed partly into prices. A balanced strategy therefore needs zoning and permitting reform, manufactured and modular construction, preservation, vouchers, tax credits, infrastructure for growth, and protections against displacement. 

Social safety nets produce sharper philosophical conflict. Progressives view unconditional cash or broad refundable credits as ways to reduce poverty, administrative burden, insecurity, and arbitrary eligibility barriers. Conservatives tend to stress work, reciprocity, fiscal cost, family formation, and the risk that unconditional support reduces labor-force participation. Recent U.S. guaranteed-income experiments do not settle the debate. One major experiment found that a $1,000 monthly payment reduced labor-force participation by 4.1 percentage points and work by roughly one to two hours weekly, while another study found short-term employment reductions that later dissipated as recipients addressed health needs. Research also found temporary improvements in stress and food security. The evidence supports continued experimentation but not a confident claim that a nationwide UBI would have either no behavioral effects or catastrophic ones. 

The more politically feasible bridge is to improve benefits tied to work and children while reducing administrative complexity. A bipartisan proposal from the Bipartisan Policy Center recommended expanding the Earned Income Tax Credit for workers without qualifying children. Republicans can support its work incentive; Democrats can support its distributional impact. UBI pilots may continue at state and local levels, but a national transition is far less plausible than targeted tax credits, wage subsidies, automatic enrollment, benefit portability, and simplified eligibility.

Oversight is another potential area of agreement, although it becomes contentious when investigations affect the party in power. Inspectors General exist to detect fraud, waste, abuse, and mismanagement while recommending improvements in economy and effectiveness. Their value depends on independence, access to records, professional methods, credible leadership, and communication with both agency management and Congress. Bipartisan governance experts have argued that independence need not mean isolation: IGs should retain investigative autonomy while participating early enough in management discussions to identify systemic risks before they become scandals. GAO has similarly recommended formal removal procedures, advance congressional notice, and direct congressional communication as protections for IG independence. 

Election administration combines intense distrust with identifiable common ground. In 2025, the bipartisan Election Assistance Commission unanimously endorsed paper-based, auditable, software-independent voting systems; more than 98 percent of jurisdictions already used systems producing a paper record. The EAC also promotes post-election audits, physical and cyber controls, testing, canvassing, reconciliation, certification, and transparent communication. These are practical integrity measures capable of strengthening confidence without predetermining broader debates over voter identification, registration, mail voting, or federal authority. 

The partisan dispute remains substantial. In April 2026, 81 percent of Democrats but only 34 percent of Republicans supported allowing any voter to vote early or absentee without documenting a reason. Republicans place greater weight on preventing ineligible voting and requiring verification; Democrats place greater weight on reducing barriers for eligible voters. A durable bargain would treat security and accessibility as complementary administrative obligations: reliable identity and list-maintenance systems, paper records, audits, accessible voting, timely adjudication, and public explanations of how unofficial results become certified outcomes. 

Immigration illustrates why capacity must precede slogans. Republicans prioritize control of unlawful entry, detention and removal capacity, border barriers, and enforcement credibility. Democrats emphasize lawful pathways, humanitarian obligations, due process, family unity, and integration. Bipartisan action has been more achievable around inspection technology, port staffing, fentanyl detection, procurement oversight, asylum adjudication resources, and selected visa reforms. CBO estimated that the recent immigration surge would raise total GDP and federal revenues while also increasing some public costs and producing modest near-term wage pressure for less-educated workers. Immigration is therefore neither cost-free nor simply an economic burden; its effects vary across governments, industries, workers, and time. 

Health care presents a parallel tension between access and fiscal sustainability. CBO projects federal health-insurance subsidies of $33.6 trillion from 2026 through 2036 and an increase in the uninsured population from 30 million to 37 million under current law and policy assumptions. Voters across party lines remain concerned about affordability, although they disagree over Medicaid conditions, Affordable Care Act subsidies, federal spending, and regulation. Plausible bipartisan measures include site-neutral payments, price transparency, fraud prevention, rural workforce programs, telehealth, competition policy, and better coordination for chronic disease—while the larger coverage and financing disputes continue. 

Cybersecurity may be the least ideological of these challenges because governments, hospitals, utilities, schools, businesses, and elections all face common threats. NIST’s Cybersecurity Framework 2.0 broadened its scope to organizations of every size and added governance as a core function alongside identification, protection, detection, response, and recovery. The bipartisan Cyberspace Solarium Commission similarly emphasized national resilience, public-private collaboration, governmental organization, and layered deterrence. The principal dispute is not whether cybersecurity matters, but how to distribute mandates and costs among federal agencies, states, localities, infrastructure operators, software producers, and consumers.

A practical governing agenda

Near-term action over the next one to five years should concentrate on standards, implementation capacity, and demonstrable results.** The federal government should require inventories of consequential AI systems used in benefits, employment, law enforcement, health, housing, and regulatory decisions. Agencies should document intended uses, data limitations, human-review arrangements, performance testing, appeal mechanisms, and responsible officials, using NIST’s framework as a common foundation. Congress should simultaneously fund shared AI research infrastructure, regulatory sandboxes, and workforce partnerships so that safety rules do not become barriers only the largest firms can afford. 

Every major competitive grant program should include predevelopment assistance, standardized applications, shared engineering and procurement support, and a capacity set-aside for tribal, rural, territorial, and fiscally distressed jurisdictions. Matching requirements should vary with fiscal capacity rather than treating all applicants as administratively equal. Agencies should publish comparable data on obligations, expenditures, project milestones, outcomes, and open audit recommendations. This approach appeals to equity advocates because it improves access and to fiscal conservatives because it makes appropriations more likely to produce completed assets. 

Congress and the states should implement the ROAD to Housing Act aggressively while evaluating which reforms actually increase completions rather than merely issuing plans. Federal incentives should reward preapproved building designs, accessory dwelling units, conversions, manufactured housing, infrastructure-ready sites, and faster approvals. Those incentives should be paired with preservation of low-cost units, rental assistance for the poorest households, and relocation or anti-displacement protections where redevelopment pressures are intense.

A bipartisan resilience compact should prioritize floods, wildfire, extreme heat, water reliability, grid failure, and insurance-market instability using transparent risk and capacity metrics. It should preserve state flexibility while requiring credible maintenance plans and measurable risk reduction. Permitting reforms should establish lead agencies, coordinated schedules, early community engagement, accessible project data, and clear limits on repetitive review without eliminating consideration of local impacts. 

Congress should strengthen Inspectors General through predictable budgets, documented removal procedures, timely access to records, public tracking of unresolved recommendations, and regular bipartisan oversight hearings focused on corrective action rather than partisan spectacle. OIGs should also expand data analytics and cross-agency work on procurement, grants, health programs, disaster funds, and AI-enabled fraud. 

Election policy should begin with the unanimous EAC position: paper-based, auditable systems. Federal support should help remaining jurisdictions replace obsolete equipment, conduct routine post-election audits, secure voter-registration databases, protect election workers, and explain canvassing and certification. States would retain constitutional responsibility for election administration while operating within clearer technical and transparency standards. 

Immigration legislation should separate operational reforms from the comprehensive package that has repeatedly failed. Near-term measures can improve staffing and inspection technology at ports, accelerate asylum decisions with due process, strengthen procurement oversight, target smugglers and fentanyl networks, and align selected employment visas with verified workforce needs. The larger disagreements over legalization, deportation, parole, family migration, and asylum standards will remain, but capacity reforms can reduce disorder while Congress debates those questions. 

Health policy should focus on areas where cost, competition, and access intersect: site-neutral payments where clinically appropriate, prescription and hospital price transparency, rural and behavioral-health workforce expansion, telehealth standards, chronic-disease prevention, and program-integrity analytics. Coverage changes should include transition protections so that administrative churn does not leave eligible people uninsured simply because they could not complete paperwork. The political parties will continue to disagree over the ACA and Medicaid, but neither can credibly ignore rising costs or the large share of uninsured people who remain eligible for some form of assistance. 

Medium-term action over five to twenty-five years should build permanent adaptive capacity. The United States should create a national public-service talent compact linking federal agencies, states, localities, tribal governments, universities, community colleges, military-transition programs, and professional associations. Fellowships, apprenticeships, loan repayment, midcareer entry, and rotational assignments should recruit public servants from a broader range of regions and socioeconomic backgrounds while developing expertise in procurement, digital systems, engineering, public finance, emergency management, health, and community engagement.

The country should gradually replace fragmented digital systems with interoperable public infrastructure that allows people to verify identity, update information, apply for benefits, obtain permits, and appeal decisions without repeatedly submitting the same records. Such systems must include privacy protections, non-digital alternatives, accessibility, cybersecurity, and human review. Administrative simplicity should not mean compulsory surveillance. 

Over this period, social policy should favor evidence-based incrementalism. Congress can strengthen the EITC, child-related credits, unemployment insurance, wage insurance, retraining support, and portable benefits while continuing rigorous cash-transfer pilots. A national UBI should not be adopted or rejected on slogans; it should be assessed against labor effects, poverty reduction, health outcomes, financing, interaction with existing programs, and regional cost differences. 

By the 2040s and 2050s, climate resilience, housing, health, immigration, artificial intelligence, and cyber policy will be inseparable from fiscal policy. Aging infrastructure and population, Medicare growth, disaster losses, workforce shortages, and technological transitions will compete for public resources. A sustainable government will require long-range budgeting, automatic program evaluation, maintenance funding, and a willingness to end ineffective programs as well as launch new ones. CBO’s projected growth in health subsidies alone illustrates why the republic cannot treat every commitment as financially independent of every other commitment. 

America’s third century should not be defined by the fantasy that political conflict will disappear. The Constitution was designed for disagreement, divided authority, ambition, and competing interests. The standard should instead be whether institutions convert those conflicts into legitimate decisions and tangible results. 

The strongest bipartisan lesson across current debates is that national goals fail when implementation is treated as an afterthought. AI safeguards require technically capable regulators. Housing reform requires planners, infrastructure, trades, and financing. Border order requires officers, judges, technology, facilities, and lawful pathways. Climate resilience requires engineering, maintenance, land-use decisions, and insurance reform. Secure elections require trained local officials, auditable systems, and public communication. Health reform requires data, workforce, and administrative continuity. Oversight requires independent professionals and follow-through. 

The republic Americans inherit in 2076 will therefore depend on choices that appear procedural today: who can apply for a grant, whether an algorithm can be appealed, whether an audit recommendation is implemented, whether a rural county can hire an engineer, whether an election office can explain a delay, whether a displaced worker can obtain training, and whether a family can find an affordable home near opportunity.

Those choices constitute the everyday architecture of self-government. America at 250 should celebrate the endurance of the constitutional experiment. Preparing for America at 300 requires renewing the institutions through which that experiment becomes real.

The Declaration of Independence and Its Lasting Impact on America and the World

America 250 Reflection Series-The Declaration of Independence

There are moments in history when words do more than describe a future—they create one.


In the summer of 1776, a group of imperfect, argumentative, and often deeply divided delegates gathered in Philadelphia and produced just over 1,300 words that would alter the course of human history. They were not merely announcing independence from Great Britain. They were advancing a revolutionary proposition: that legitimate government derives its authority from the people, that liberty is not granted by kings, and that every generation bears a responsibility to preserve freedom for the next.


The Declaration of Independence became America’s first great statement of purpose. It transformed a colonial rebellion into a universal argument about human dignity, self-government, and the rights of humanity. Nearly 250 years later, its influence can be found in constitutions, civil rights movements, democratic revolutions, and public institutions around the globe. Few documents in history have traveled so far, inspired so many, or endured so long.


As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, the Declaration remains more than a relic preserved behind glass in the National Archives. It is a living document whose ideas continue to shape public life, democratic governance, and the responsibilities of citizenship. It remains, as historian Gordon Wood observed, one of the most consequential statements of political thought ever produced.

More Than a Single Day

Popular memory often reduces the Declaration to July 4, 1776, but the story began months earlier. Following years of disputes over taxation, representation, and self-government, colonial leaders increasingly concluded that reconciliation with Britain was impossible.


On June 7, Virginia delegate Richard Henry Lee introduced a resolution declaring that the colonies “are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States.” Four days later, Congress appointed a Committee of Five—Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert Livingston—to draft a formal declaration explaining the reasons for independence. Jefferson, only thirty-three years old, became the principal author, while Adams and Franklin revised the text before Congress debated and substantially edited it. The final document adopted on July 4 was therefore not the work of one man but the product of collective deliberation and compromise.


That fact alone offers an important lesson. America’s founding document emerged not from unanimity, but from disagreement, debate, and persuasion. The founders argued intensely about language, philosophy, and strategy, yet they ultimately united around a common purpose. Democracy, from the beginning, was messy. It still is.

The Revolutionary Idea

The Declaration’s most enduring contribution was not independence itself, but the principles used to justify it.


Drawing upon Enlightenment thinkers such as John Locke, the document argued that all people possess natural rights independent of government.

Governments exist to secure those rights and derive their legitimacy from the consent of the governed. When governments fail in that responsibility, citizens retain the authority to alter or abolish them.


In 1776 these ideas were revolutionary.

Throughout much of the world, power flowed from kings, hereditary privilege, and divine right. The Declaration turned that model upside down. Sovereignty belonged not to a monarch but to the people.


Its most famous sentence remains among the most influential ever written:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”


Those words did more than justify independence. They established a moral standard against which future generations would measure both government and society.


Historian Pauline Maier noted that the Declaration was both an announcement and an argument. It explained not only why Americans were breaking from Britain, but what they believed government ought to be. That argument would prove more enduring than the war itself.

The Birth of a Nation

The Declaration’s immediate impact was practical as well as philosophical.


Once independence was formally declared, the United States could pursue foreign alliances and diplomatic recognition. French support would ultimately prove decisive in securing victory during the Revolutionary War.
Congress ordered copies distributed throughout the states and read publicly before citizens and soldiers alike. General George Washington had the Declaration read to Continental Army troops, transforming the conflict from resistance against British policies into a struggle for national independence.


The Declaration also accelerated the formation of state governments and helped lay the philosophical foundation for the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution, and eventually the Bill of Rights. While it was not itself a constitution, it provided the principles upon which American constitutional government would be built.


Yet the founders understood something larger than the immediate needs of the moment. They were not simply creating a new country. They were launching what would become the world’s most ambitious experiment in democratic self-government.

The Creed That Defines America

Political scientist Samuel P. Huntington argued that America’s uniqueness lies not in ethnicity, language, or ancestry, but in a shared commitment to a set of political ideals. Unlike many nations, America was founded on a creed.


At the center of that creed stands the Declaration of Independence.


Huntington observed that throughout American history citizens have repeatedly returned to the Declaration during moments of crisis. Whether confronting slavery, corruption, inequality, discrimination, or threats to democratic institutions, Americans have looked to the founding principles as a standard by which to judge the nation.


He described these periods as moments of “creedal passion”—times when Americans demand that the country live up to its own ideals.


The abolitionist movement invoked the Declaration.


The women’s suffrage movement echoed its language.


The labor movement adapted its structure.


The Civil Rights Movement embraced its promises.


Again and again, Americans have used the Declaration not merely to celebrate the nation, but to challenge it.

For Huntington, this was evidence of the Declaration’s enduring power. Americans may disagree about policy, politics, and priorities, but they often frame those disagreements through the common language of liberty, equality, constitutional government, and democratic self-rule. The Declaration remains the civic glue that binds together an extraordinarily diverse republic.

America’s Unfinished Promise

Yet the Declaration also contained one of the great contradictions of American history.


The document proclaimed equality while slavery existed throughout the colonies. Many of its signers, including Jefferson, enslaved human beings. Congress removed Jefferson’s condemnation of the slave trade from an earlier draft in order to maintain unity among the colonies.


The nation was founded upon ideals more expansive than its practices.


That contradiction has shaped nearly every chapter of American history.


Rather than weakening the Declaration’s significance, however, it became a source of moral leverage for future reformers. Because the founders established universal principles, later generations could demand that the nation honor them.


Frederick Douglass challenged slavery through the Declaration’s language of equality.


Abraham Lincoln made the Declaration the moral center of the Union cause during the Civil War.


Women’s rights advocates adapted its words at Seneca Falls.


Martin Luther King Jr. described America’s founding principles as a promissory note that the nation had yet to fully redeem.

Each movement found power in the same idea: that America’s highest ideals belonged to everyone.


The Declaration became not merely a statement of independence but a continuing challenge to improve the Republic.

A Document for the World

The Declaration’s influence extended far beyond America’s borders.


Historian David Armitage argues that its greatest global impact may have been its role as a model for self-determination. Across Europe, Latin America, Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean, peoples seeking independence drew inspiration from the idea that a nation could separate itself from an existing government and establish its own sovereign authority.


Its influence can be seen in:

  • The French Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen.
  • Latin American independence movements.
  • Democratic reforms throughout Europe.
  • Anti-colonial movements across Africa and Asia.
  • Modern human rights movements.
  • Constitutional democracies around the world.

The Declaration helped launch what historians often call the “Age of Revolutions.” It transformed liberty from a privilege granted by rulers into a claim asserted by citizens.


For the first time in history, a nation announced to the world that the government existed because people consented to it—not because rulers inherited it.

That idea changed everything.

Why It Matters for Public Service

As Americans reflect on 250 years of independence, the Declaration continues to offer lessons for those entrusted with public service.


What gives government legitimacy?


How should public power be exercised?


What obligations do institutions owe the people they serve?


These questions remain central to modern governance.


For public administrators, the Declaration serves as a reminder that government exists to serve citizens, not the other way around.


Transparency, accountability, ethical leadership, and stewardship of public trust all flow from the belief that authority originates with the people.


Whether serving in local government, state agencies, federal departments, nonprofit organizations, or community institutions, public servants continue the work begun in 1776—transforming ideals into action and principles into
practice.


The founders established the framework. Each generation must decide how to sustain it.

The Continuing American Experiment

The founders could not have imagined artificial intelligence, space exploration, global communications, or a nation of more than 340 million people. Yet they understood a timeless truth: free people, governing themselves, possess an extraordinary capacity to shape their future.


That work remains unfinished.

Samuel Huntington once argued that America’s greatest challenge was not preserving its power but preserving its identity. The Declaration of Independence provides the answer to that challenge. It reminds us that being American is not defined solely by birthplace, background, or political affiliation. It is defined by a commitment to liberty, equality,
self-government, and the belief that free people can govern themselves.


For nearly 250 years, Americans have debated, expanded, defended, and reinterpreted the ideals first articulated in Philadelphia. Every generation has inherited the same assignment: to move the nation closer to the
promise contained within those revolutionary words.


Two and a half centuries later, the Declaration remains both our inheritance and our responsibility. It is a testament to the power of ideas, a challenge to complacency, and a reminder that democracy is not a destination. It is a duty. The Declaration did more than create a nation. It created a conversation—about liberty, equality, justice, citizenship, and human dignity—that continues today.


And as America moves toward its third century, that conversation remains the foundation of the American experiment and the enduring call of public service.

America’s AI Moment

Written by NCAC Board Member, Ryan Heimer

Innovation, Infrastructure, and the Future of Democratic
Governance

The Next Great Test of American Governance

Every generation inherits a challenge that forces it to rethink how institutions serve the public. For the Founders, it was designing a republic capable of balancing liberty with effective government. For later generations, it was preserving the Union, building an industrial economy, expanding opportunity, and navigating the rise of global power.

Today’s challenge arrives not in the form of a foreign army or economic depression, but through a technology advancing faster than the institutions responsible for governing it.

Artificial intelligence is often described as a technological revolution. Yet the more important story may be institutional rather than technological. AI is forcing governments, businesses, schools, healthcare systems, and communities to confront fundamental questions about decision-making, accountability, expertise, and trust. It is reshaping how information is produced, how services are delivered, how work is performed, and how citizens interact with the organizations that govern their lives.


The executive orders and policy initiatives emerging from Washington over the past several years reveal a growing recognition that AI is no longer simply another innovation. Increasingly, it is being treated as a strategic national capability that will influence economic competitiveness, workforce development, healthcare delivery, national security, and the future of public administration itself.


The story of American AI policy is therefore not merely a story about technology. It is a story about whether our institutions can adapt to a new era while remaining faithful to the principles that have sustained the republic for nearly 250 years.

From Research Initiative to National Strategy

The modern federal AI effort began in 2019 with the Executive Order on Maintaining American Leadership in Artificial Intelligence. At the time, policymakers largely viewed AI as an emerging technology with extraordinary economic and scientific potential.


Federal agencies were directed to prioritize research and development, improve access to government data, cultivate technical talent, and reduce barriers to innovation. The objective was straightforward: ensure that the United States remained the global leader in a technology likely to define the future.

A year later, the focus expanded. The Executive Order on Promoting the Use of Trustworthy Artificial Intelligence in the Federal Government acknowledged that leadership alone would not be sufficient. Public trust would also be necessary.


Innovation and governance would need to advance together. This balance between technological advancement and democratic accountability would become the central tension of the next phase of American AI policy.

The AI Race Accelerates

By 2025, the conversation had evolved dramatically.


The Trump Administration’s executive orders on removing barriers to AI leadership, streamlining federal procurement, expanding AI education, accelerating data-center permitting, and exporting the American AI technology stack reflected a broader strategic vision.


AI was no longer viewed primarily as a research initiative.


It was becoming a national project.


The federal government increasingly began treating artificial intelligence the same way earlier generations treated railroads, electrification, aerospace, and the internet—not merely as technology, but as critical infrastructure tied directly to economic growth, national security, and geopolitical influence.


Yet even as policymakers focused on competition and innovation, another challenge was emerging: preparing institutions and people to operate effectively in this new environment.

The Human Side of Artificial Intelligence

Technological revolutions are often described through machines, inventions, and infrastructure. But history suggests that transformation ultimately depends on people.


This reality is particularly evident in the workplace.


Research by Dr. Priyanka Dave of Oregon State University suggests that successful AI adoption is not primarily a technology challenge. It is a cultural challenge. Employees do not embrace new tools simply because they are available. They need environments that encourage learning, experimentation, collaboration, and continuous improvement.


Her research identifies psychological safety, managerial reinforcement, peer learning, opportunities for application, and aligned incentives as the key ingredients of successful adoption. Organizations that lack these conditions often find themselves purchasing technology faster than employees can meaningfully use it.


This lesson is especially relevant for government agencies.


The success of federal AI initiatives will not be determined solely by the sophistication of algorithms. It will depend on whether public institutions can prepare employees to work alongside those systems effectively.


The future of AI, in many respects, is a workforce challenge.

Modernizing Government in the AI Era

The workforce challenge intersects directly with another national priority: government modernization.


Federal agencies face increasing workloads, growing public expectations, workforce constraints, and rising demands for responsiveness. AI offers opportunities to improve service delivery, strengthen data analysis, streamline administrative processes, and support evidence-based decision-making.


Recent disclosures from the Office of Management and Budget reveal more than 3,600 active or planned AI applications across federal agencies, a dramatic increase from previous years.


These applications touch nearly every aspect of government operations.


Yet the rapid expansion of AI has also exposed an important governance challenge.


How do citizens maintain confidence in systems they do not fully understand?


The answer, many experts argue, lies not in slowing innovation but in strengthening transparency, accountability, and public engagement.


The rise of AI is creating what some observers describe as an “AI state.” Whether that development increases public trust or erodes it will depend on how institutions manage the transition.

Healthcare: A Preview of the Future

Few sectors illustrate these challenges more clearly than healthcare.


Healthcare is simultaneously one of the most promising and most complicated areas for AI deployment. Administrative systems already assist with scheduling, claims processing, documentation, and patient communications. Clinical applications increasingly support diagnostics, medical imaging, disease detection, and treatment recommendations.

The promise is extraordinary.

Yet healthcare also demonstrates the complexity of governing AI in high-stakes environments.


Questions about liability, privacy, transparency, regulation, reimbursement, and patient safety remain unresolved. Multiple federal agencies share oversight responsibilities, while states continue developing their own approaches.


The result is a policy landscape that mirrors broader challenges facing AI governance across government.


How can regulators encourage innovation while protecting the public?


How can institutions move quickly without sacrificing accountability?


Healthcare may ultimately become the testing ground for answering those questions.

National Security and Strategic Competition

If healthcare highlights AI’s promise, national security highlights its stakes.


Recent debates surrounding advanced AI systems such as Anthropic’s newest models demonstrate how quickly AI has become intertwined with questions of cybersecurity, intelligence, and defense.


Policymakers increasingly view frontier AI models as strategic assets comparable to advanced semiconductors, aerospace technologies, or critical infrastructure.


This perspective reflects a growing recognition that leadership in artificial intelligence may influence the global balance of economic and political power throughout the twenty-first century.


Consequently, discussions surrounding export controls, cybersecurity safeguards, model access, and international competition are likely to become increasingly central to American AI policy.


The question is no longer whether AI has national security implications.


The question is how democratic societies should govern technologies that possess such significant strategic value.

Stewarding the Future

The conversation surrounding artificial intelligence often gravitates toward extremes. Some see limitless opportunity. Others see existential risk. The reality, as is often the case in public administration, lies somewhere in between.


Technology does not determine outcomes on its own. Institutions do.


Artificial intelligence will undoubtedly reshape government, healthcare, education, business, and civic life. Yet whether those changes strengthen society depends upon decisions being made today by public servants, policymakers, educators, business leaders, and citizens.

The executive orders discussed throughout this article represent more than a collection of policy directives. They reveal an emerging recognition that America is entering a new phase of national development—one in which intelligent systems will increasingly shape public life.


But history reminds us that technological leadership alone is never enough.


The nations that endure are those capable of transforming innovation into public value. They build institutions that are trusted, adaptable, and resilient. They prepare their people for change while ensuring that progress remains aligned with the common good.


As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, artificial intelligence presents an opportunity to demonstrate that democratic governance remains capable of meeting the challenges of a new age.


The future of artificial intelligence will be written in code.


The future of the republic, however, will still be written by people.

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.

Governing in the Age of Artificial Intelligence

Submitted by Board Member, Ryan Heimer

Technology Policy, Democratic Institutions, and the Future of Public Administration 

The relationship between government and technology has entered a new phase. In earlier eras, public administration often treated technology as a supporting function that has been important for efficiency, recordkeeping, and communication, but secondary to the central tasks of policy design, budgeting, and implementation. That distinction is becoming increasingly untenable. Artificial intelligence, semiconductor supply chains, digital platforms, cloud infrastructure, and data governance now shape not only how governments operate, but also how they exercise authority, maintain legitimacy, and deliver public value. 

Recent works on technology and governance including Chris Miller’s Chip War, Jennifer Pahlka’s Recoding America, and Alexander C. Karp and Nicholas W. Zamiska’s The Technological Republic. They offer a particularly useful framework for understanding this transformation. Although these works approach the subject from different vantage points (geopolitical competition, bureaucratic reform, and national strategy) they converge on a shared conclusion: the ability of governments to understand and manage technology is increasingly inseparable from the broader question of effective governance. 

My hope is the outline within these texts, when read alongside contemporary AI policy efforts such as the Build American AI initiative, the White House National Policy Framework for Artificial Intelligence, and research on municipal AI readiness, point toward a major shift in the field of public administration. Technology policy is no longer a specialized issue confined to technical agencies or information technology offices. Rather, it is becoming central to democratic governance itself. Public administrators must therefore develop not only traditional competencies in management and policy analysis, but also the institutional, strategic, and ethical capacity to govern in an increasingly technological society. 

Technology as a Question of State Capacity 

Chris Miller’s Chip War provides the broadest strategic context for understanding why technology has become so important to governance. Miller’s central contribution is to show that semiconductors are not simply commercial products; they are a form of strategic infrastructure underpinning economic power, military capability, and technological leadership. Modern economies depend on chips to power everything from smartphones and automobiles to artificial intelligence systems and advanced defense platforms. As a result, semiconductor production and supply chains have become a core arena of geopolitical competition. 

For public administration, the significance of this argument lies in its implications for state capacity. Governments have historically treated infrastructure such as roads, ports, water systems, and electric grids. Now foundational to national development and public welfare. Chip War suggests that advanced technological production now occupies a similarly foundational role. The ability to access and sustain semiconductor capacity is increasingly tied to economic resilience, innovation potential, and national security. 

This insight is especially important because it broadens how public administrators must think about technology. The issue is no longer simply whether agencies possess updated software or modern information systems. Rather, it is whether the state as a whole possesses the institutional and strategic capacity to operate in an environment where technological dependencies shape policy outcomes. In this sense, Miller reframes technology not as a narrow policy area but as an essential component of modern statecraft. 

Institutional Failure and the Administrative Problem 

If Chip War explains why technology matters strategically, Jennifer Pahlka’s Recoding America explains why governments often fail to use it effectively. Pahlka’s analysis is less concerned with geopolitical rivalry than with the ordinary functioning of the administrative state. Her central claim is that many public-sector technology failures are not caused by a lack of ambition or public purpose, but by institutional arrangements that make effective digital implementation difficult. 

In Pahlka’s account, government technology projects frequently fail because they are constrained by outdated procurement systems, fragmented authority, rigid compliance structures, and an overreliance on large external contractors. These institutional features tend to reward procedural caution over practical usability, producing systems that are expensive, slow to deploy, and often poorly matched to the actual needs of citizens and frontline workers. The result is not merely inefficiency, but a deeper disconnect between public purpose and administrative execution. 

This argument is particularly important for public administration because it locates technological failure within the core structures of governance. The problem is not simply that governments need better tools; it is that they often lack organizational forms capable of building, managing, and adapting those tools effectively. Pahlka therefore shifts the debate from innovation in the abstract to institutional design in practice. 

Her proposed solution is equally significant. Rather than continuing to treat technology as a service to be outsourced, governments must cultivate internal technical expertise, embrace iterative design, and build closer working relationships between policy professionals and technologists. For public administrators, this implies that effective governance increasingly depends on the ability to connect administrative processes with digital realities. 

Democratic Governance and Technological Power 

Alexander Karp and Nicholas Zamiska’s The Technological Republic extends this discussion by placing technological development within the larger question of democratic power. Their argument is that democratic societies cannot remain effective, secure, or competitive if the government becomes detached from technological innovation. In an era defined by artificial 

intelligence, advanced computing, and strategic rivalry, the relationship between public institutions and technological development becomes a central political question. What distinguishes The Technological Republic from the other works is its emphasis on the broader constitutional and civic stakes of technological governance. Karp and Zamiska suggest that democratic states must do more than regulate innovation after the fact. They must actively shape the conditions under which innovation occurs, ensuring that technological advancement strengthens rather than undermines democratic institutions. 

This argument carries considerable weight for public administration. Public institutions are not merely neutral managers of social complexity; they are the mechanisms through which democratic societies organize collective action. If governments withdraw from technological development or fail to understand its implications, they risk ceding strategic power to private actors, foreign competitors, or institutional systems that operate beyond meaningful public accountability. 

In this respect, The Technological Republic revives an older tradition of thinking about the state, not as a passive regulator, but as a strategic partner in national development. Its relevance to public administration lies in the reminder that governance requires institutional ambition as well as managerial competence. 

Artificial Intelligence and the Expansion of Governance Responsibilities 

The arguments advanced in these three books are reinforced by the rapid emergence of artificial intelligence as a major policy domain. AI is no longer simply a matter of private-sector innovation or consumer technology. It now occupies a central place in debates over economic growth, infrastructure investment, national defense, labor markets, public service delivery, and democratic accountability. 

Initiatives such as Build American AI reflect this shift by emphasizing the need for coordinated investment in domestic AI research, semiconductor production, computing infrastructure, and workforce development. The underlying premise is that AI leadership will not emerge automatically from market forces alone. It requires intentional public investment and strategic coordination across institutions. 

For public administration, this development is significant because it expands the scope of governance responsibilities. Artificial intelligence touches multiple domains traditionally associated with public management: procurement, workforce training, infrastructure planning, intergovernmental coordination, and public accountability. It also introduces new governance questions concerning transparency, algorithmic bias, privacy, and oversight. In short, AI governance is not reducible to technical regulation. It is a multidimensional administrative challenge that cuts across the core functions of modern government. 

The White House Framework and National Administrative Capacity 

The White House National Policy Framework for Artificial Intelligence further illustrates the extent to which AI is becoming embedded within the machinery of governance. The framework presents artificial intelligence as both a strategic technology and a foundational driver of future economic growth, public service modernization, and national security. It accordingly emphasizes four major priorities: strengthening American AI leadership, building infrastructure and capacity, modernizing government use and procurement, and ensuring responsible and trustworthy AI. 

The first priority, strengthening American AI leadership, underscores the need for sustained federal investment in research, advanced computing, semiconductor production, and strategic collaboration among government, universities, and private industry. This priority reflects the growing recognition that technological leadership is not self-sustaining; it depends on deliberate policy choices and long-term institutional commitment. 

The second priority, building infrastructure and capacity, highlights the material foundations of AI systems. Artificial intelligence depends on data centers, broadband, cloud resources, energy systems, and talent pipelines. In this sense, AI policy is also infrastructure policy. The federal government’s emphasis on physical and digital capacity reinforces the broader lesson of Chip War: technological power rests on concrete systems of production, supply, and support. 

The third priority, modernizing government use and procurement, is particularly relevant to the field of public administration. The framework recognizes that agencies must improve their ability to acquire, govern, and deploy AI tools effectively. Streamlined procurement, clearer guidance, stronger internal expertise, and more agile institutional systems are necessary if AI is to become a useful tool of governance rather than another source of bureaucratic failure. This emphasis closely aligns with Pahlka’s critique in Recoding America: governments cannot modernize merely by declaring technology a priority; they must also reform the institutional processes through which technology is adopted and managed. 

The fourth priority, ensuring responsible and trustworthy AI, points to the ethical and democratic dimensions of technological governance. Transparency, accountability, privacy, fairness, and human oversight are not peripheral concerns. They are central to whether citizens will trust the systems public institutions adopt. As AI becomes more deeply embedded in public decision-making, maintaining public legitimacy will require more than technical efficiency. It will require strong governance safeguards and a continuing commitment to democratic values. Taken together, these priorities show that AI policy is now inseparable from broader 

questions of national administrative capacity. Investments in infrastructure, reforms in procurement, and safeguards for trust and accountability all point toward the same conclusion: governments must modernize institutionally if they expect to govern effectively in an AI-driven environment. 

The Local Dimension: Community AI Readiness 

Although national strategy is essential, the consequences of technological transformation are often felt most directly at the local level. This is where research on community AI readiness becomes especially important. The National Academy of Public Administration’s report Bringing AI to Main Street argues that AI should not be viewed solely as a national competitiveness issue or as a private-sector innovation trend. Rather, its effects will be experienced in communities, where local governments, civic organizations, educational institutions, and regional economies must adapt to technological change. 

The Academy’s central concept is community AI readiness, which it defines as a community’s capacity to adopt, adapt to, and benefit from AI technologies through investments in digital infrastructure, workforce training, education, data governance, and local policy. This concept is especially valuable for public administration because it reframes AI adoption as a question of institutional and civic preparedness, not merely technological availability. Communities do not benefit from artificial intelligence simply because the technology exists. They benefit when public institutions create the conditions that make adoption possible, useful, and equitable. 

This insight adds an important practical layer to the broader arguments advanced in Chip War, Recoding America, and The Technological Republic. If Chip War demonstrates why technological capacity matters strategically, and Recoding America explains why public institutions often struggle to modernize, then the NAPA report shows where much of this challenge will actually unfold: in cities, counties, and regions that must translate abstract technological change into concrete public outcomes. Local government thus becomes not a peripheral actor, but a central arena in which the future of AI governance will be tested. 

The report is also significant because it emphasizes that AI adoption must be approached through iterative design rather than static planning. AI is not a static technology, and therefore the infrastructure, policies, and communications supporting it cannot remain static either. This argument closely parallels Jennifer Pahlka’s critique in Recoding America. Both perspectives suggest that governments will struggle if they continue treating technology adoption as a one-time procurement exercise rather than an ongoing process of adaptation, learning, and redesign. 

Equally important is the Academy’s focus on community engagement and performance measurement. The report recommends public engagement, asset mapping, and regularly updated metrics as tools for identifying readiness gaps, informing decisions, and building trust. For public administration, this reinforces the idea that AI governance must be participatory as well as data-informed. Efficiency alone is not enough; legitimacy also depends on whether communities understand, trust, and help shape the systems being implemented. 

The NAPA report further highlights the extent to which Al governance depends on foundational infrastructure and workforce capacity. Its discussion of broadband, fiber networks, cloud computing, data centers, energy supply, and workforce reskilling makes clear that AI policy is inseparable from broader investments in public capacity. In this respect, the report supports the broader argument of this essay: technological governance is not simply about software or digital tools. It is about whether institutions possess the infrastructure, talent, and organizational systems necessary to convert innovation into public value. 

Finally, the Academy emphasizes that local AI adoption must be grounded in transparency, fairness, accountability, and human-centered decision-making. Its case examples and governance recommendations point to the importance of ethical frameworks, vendor oversight, evaluation processes, and public-facing accountability mechanisms. This is especially significant for public administrators because it makes clear that AI readiness is not merely a technical matter. It is also a matter of democratic legitimacy. Communities that pursue innovation without trust, oversight, or ethical safeguards may improve administrative efficiency while undermining the public values they are meant to serve. 

For these reasons, the concept of community AI readiness adds a vital local and administrative dimension to current debates over technology policy. It reminds scholars and practitioners alike that the future of AI governance will not be determined only in federal strategy documents, research labs, or corporate boardrooms. It will also be determined in the practical work of local institution-building: expanding infrastructure, preparing workers, engaging residents, strengthening data governance, and ensuring that technological change serves the broader public good. 

Implications for the Field of Public Administration 

Taken together, these works suggest that public administration is undergoing a significant transformation. Traditional competencies such as budgeting, personnel management, policy analysis, and program evaluation remain indispensable. However, they are no longer sufficient on their own. The governance challenges associated with semiconductors, digital infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and public-sector modernization require a broader and more technologically informed conception of administrative competence. 

This does not mean that every public administrator must become a technologist. It does mean, however, that future administrators will need to develop a working understanding of digital systems, procurement strategy, infrastructure dependencies, data governance, and the ethical implications of technological deployment. They must be capable of translating between policy goals and technical realities, between public values and institutional design, and between democratic accountability and administrative innovation. 

The NAPA framework reinforces this point by showing that public administrators must increasingly think in terms of readiness, not simply adoption. Readiness includes not only whether institutions can purchase or deploy a system, but whether they have the infrastructure, workforce skills, governance standards, and public legitimacy needed to make that system effective. In this sense, the public administrator of the future is not just a manager of programs, but a builder of institutional capacity in an environment shaped by rapid technological change. Equally important, these works point to the continued value of cross-sector collaboration. 

Many of the most consequential technological advances in American history emerged through partnerships among government, academia, and private industry. That pattern remains relevant today. Effective technological governance will depend not only on what governments do internally, but also on how they structure relationships with researchers, firms, civic organizations, and local communities. In this sense, the public administrator of the future increasingly resembles a strategic integrator. Someone who can navigate institutions, technologies, and democratic values simultaneously. 

Conclusion 

Artificial intelligence and related technologies are reshaping the context in which public institutions operate. They are altering the material foundations of economic growth, the structures of strategic competition, the design of administrative systems, and the expectations citizens place on government. The central lesson of Chip War, Recoding America, The Technological Republic, contemporary AI policy initiatives, and NAPA’s work on community AI readiness is that technology is no longer an auxiliary issue in governance. It is becoming one of the principal means through which governance itself is exercised. 

For the field of public administration, this represents a structural shift. The central challenge is no longer simply whether the government can adopt new tools, but whether public institutions can develop the capacity, flexibility, and ethical discipline necessary to govern technological change in ways consistent with democratic values. Ultimately, governing in the age of artificial intelligence is not just about machines, data, or software. It is about institutional capability. It is about whether democratic governments can adapt quickly enough, intelligently enough, and responsibly enough to remain effective stewards of the public good in a technological age.

AI at an Inflection Point: Implications for the Future of Public Administration

Submitted by Board Member, Ryan Heimer

Recent commentary from technology researchers and industry leaders suggests that artificial intelligence may be approaching a major turning point—one that could reshape work, productivity, and governance in the coming decade. Two recent articles highlight the scale and speed of these potential changes and offer an important starting point for reflection within the public administration community.

A research scenario published by Citrini Research describes a hypothetical future moment called the “Global Intelligence Crisis.” The concept imagines a world in which advanced AI systems dramatically expand the supply of intelligence—automating many cognitive tasks previously performed by highly trained professionals. In this scenario, productivity increases rapidly as AI performs research, analysis, coding, and other knowledge work at scale. While such developments could unlock enormous economic value, the transition could also bring disruption to labor markets, organizations, and financial systems as institutions struggle to adapt to a new technological reality.

At the same time, a recent commentary in Fortune argues that the world may already be approaching a similar inflection point. AI entrepreneur Matt Shumer compares the current moment in artificial intelligence to the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, as when warning signs were visible but not widely understood. According to this perspective, modern AI systems are already capable of performing tasks such as writing software, conducting research, and generating complex reports. As these capabilities improve, many entry-level and routine knowledge jobs may change significantly in the next several years. For public administration professionals, these developments raise profound questions about the future of government institutions and the nature of public service work. If intelligence becomes increasingly abundant through AI systems, the comparative advantage of public organizations may shift away from routine information processing and toward judgment, accountability, and ethical governance. In other words, the human role in public administration may increasingly focus on values, oversight, and decision-making rather than routine analysis.

Several areas of government could experience significant transformation. Administrative tasks such as document processing, regulatory review, data analysis, and program evaluation could be accelerated through AI tools, allowing agencies to process information and respond to public needs more quickly. For example, AI systems could assist with analyzing regulatory comments, identifying safety hazards in inspection data, forecasting infrastructure needs, or modeling policy outcomes. In fields such as public safety, environmental regulation, and occupational health, areas where data is already abundant, AI could help identify risks earlier and support more proactive governance.

At the same time, these capabilities introduce new responsibilities for public institutions. Governments will likely need to develop new regulatory frameworks to address questions of algorithmic transparency, data governance, and accountability. Ensuring that AI systems operate in ways that support equity, fairness, and due process will become a central concern for policymakers and administrators. Public agencies may also face pressure to address workforce transitions as automation affects certain roles while creating demand for new skills in technology oversight, data literacy, and strategic leadership. The public sector may also play a crucial role in managing the broader societal impacts of AI. Historically, major technological transitions, from the industrial revolution to the digital era, required governments to adapt labor policy, education systems, and social safety nets. If AI significantly alters the structure of knowledge work, similar policy discussions may emerge around workforce training, economic mobility, and public investment in emerging technologies.

For the field of public administration, these developments suggest that the competencies required of future public servants may evolve. In addition to traditional skills in policy analysis and program management, public leaders may increasingly need to understand technology governance, ethical AI implementation, and data-driven decision making. Educational programs in public administration may also begin to integrate coursework on artificial intelligence, digital governance, and technology policy to prepare the next generation of public leaders.

Ultimately, artificial intelligence presents both an opportunity and a responsibility for the public sector. While the technology may significantly enhance the capacity of government institutions, it also raises important questions about democratic accountability, institutional legitimacy, and the role of human judgment in governance. Public administrators will likely be at the center of navigating these questions. As the pace of AI development continues to accelerate, the field of public administration has an opportunity to shape how these tools are deployed in ways that strengthen democratic institutions, improve public service delivery, and ensure that technological progress serves the broader public interest. In many ways, the coming decade may test one of the core principles of public administration: that innovation must always be balanced with stewardship of the public trust.

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Derrick Boakye Boadu Wins First Place in the 2025 Student Essay Contest

headshot of Derrick Boadu

Derrick Boadu

NCAC congratulates Derrick Boakye Boadu for winning First Place of the National Capital Area Chapter’s (NCAC) 2025 Public Administration Student Essay Contest for his essay Public Administration in the Age of AI: A Dual Approach for Scholars and Practitioners.”

 

Derrick Boakye Boadu is a Ph.D. Candidate at the Florida International University, Steven J. Green School of International and Public Affairs and along with the distinction of the essay 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.

 

Derrick joined us at our Chapter’s Annual Meeting on May 13 to discuss his essay and express his gratitude for being selected.

 

You can view the recording of our Annual Meeting by clicking here.

 

Congratulations, Derrick, on winning First Place for your essay in our Chapter’s 2025 Student Essay Contest!