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.