We the Fallen People

The Founders and the Future of American Democracy

De: Robert Tracy McKenzie

Narrado por: Bob Souer

The success and survival of American democracy have never been guaranteed.

What we must do, argues the historian Robert Tracy McKenzie, is take an unflinching look at the very nature of democracy - its strengths and weaknesses, what it can promise, and where it overreaches. And this means we must take an unflinching look at ourselves.

We the Fallen People presents a close look at the ideas of human nature to be found in the history of American democratic thought. McKenzie, following C. S. Lewis, claims there are only two reasons to believe in majority rule: because we have confidence in human nature - or because we don't. The Founders subscribed to the biblical principle that humans are fallen and their virtue is always doubtful, and they wrote the US Constitution to frame a republic intended to handle our weaknesses. But by the presidency of Andrew Jackson, contrary ideas about humanity's inherent goodness were already taking deep root among Americans, bearing fruit in such perils as we now face for the future of democracy.

Focusing on the careful reasoning of the Founders, the seismic shifts of the Jacksonian Era, and the often misunderstood but still piercing analysis of Tocqueville's Democracy in America, McKenzie guides us in a conversation with the past that can help us see the present - and ourselves - with new insight.

©2021 Robert Tracy McKenzie (P)2021 eChristian

Timely

Robert Tracy McKenzie, a history professor at Wheaton College, gives a very countercultural reading of America’s founding in “We the Fallen People: The Founders and the Future of American Democracy.” Instead of arguing that the U.S. was founded as a Christian nation, he contends that the Constitution was built on a basic Christian principle: the fallen nature of mankind. That idea, not stated in overtly religious terms by the framers, nonetheless shaped the structure of American government.
He begins by warning against a myth often attributed to Alexis de Tocqueville in “Democracy in America”: “America is great because she is good.” In fact, de Tocqueville was less impressed with American virtue than with the Constitution’s ability to function despite the mediocrity and self-interest of its citizens and leaders.
McKenzie’s focus is not on exceptionalism but on realism. He writes, “The Founders were realists. They exhorted Americans to revere and practice virtue. They didn’t expect it…they thought of virtue as, quite literally, artificial. It doesn’t occur naturally in our species.”
They defined virtue not as personal piety, but public—the willingness to put the good of the community ahead of individual desires. They feared not only monarchy, but the tyranny of the majority. The Constitution, with its checks and balances, indirect elections, and intentional inefficiencies, was crafted not out of faith in “the people” but out of skepticism toward them.
A weakness in the book is his not always clear distinction between “Founders” in general and the Constitution’s “Framers” in particular. That distinction explains the contrast between the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Jefferson, author of the former, believed government might eventually shrink as people acted for the common good. But the Constitution followed the collapse of the Articles of Confederation, which were based on that optimism—and which failed.
Failures of virtue weren’t just theoretical. During the Revolutionary War, self-interest and infighting undermined the cause. Valley Forge was a disaster not only because of British pressure but because of broken promises, unpaid soldiers, and jealousies among generals and politicians. Many of our best leaders resigned or even defected in disgust.
So how could a government function without virtue? The solution: a system that restrained power—creating what McKenzie calls “artificial virtue.” As Madison put it, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” Since they aren’t, government had to restrain ambition without becoming tyrannical.
But he shows that this realism faded and by the time of de Tocqueville’s 1830s visit, a shift had occurred—what McKenzie calls “The Great Reversal.” Andrew Jackson’s rise marked a new view: that the American people were good and wise, while government was corrupt. Jackson said the will of the majority must prevail—even at the expense of legality—because the people themselves were morally right. This idea remains today and contrasts sharply with the framers’ thinking.
De Tocqueville warned, “I cannot regard you as a virtuous people.” He foresaw the danger of a “soft tyranny,” where citizens trade liberty for the comfort of protection. He feared populism. “An idea that is clear and precise even though false,” he wrote, “will always have greater power… than an idea that is true but complex.”
McKenzie argues that many Americans today, including Christians, have bought into the myth of innate national goodness. Evangelicals should know better. Scripture is clear: “There is none who is good, not even one.” Recognizing human fallenness isn’t just abstract—it’s essential for political life. We must always be wary of concentrated power, whether in one person, party, or even the majority.
This applies to us, too. We must resist using power—political or rhetorical—to silence or shame. He calls us to humility: to acknowledge failings, avoid romanticizing our past, and stop demonizing opponents. Christians, he insists, should avoid binding themselves too tightly to any party and return to the gospel.
Benjamin Franklin, at the end of the Constitutional Convention, expressed doubt about the new government’s durability: “I agree to this Constitution with all its faults…because I expect no better.” He didn’t expect Americans to be exceptional. Nor did most of the Framers. They expected the republic to endure only if future generations remembered that people are not naturally virtuous and cannot be fully trusted with power. The Constitution was their answer—a system based not on angels or saviors, but on accountability.
“We the Fallen People” is timely. It reminds us that democracy doesn’t thrive on faith in ourselves, but on humility about who we are. That slogan may not win elections—but it’s a stronger foundation for political health. I may quibble with parts of McKenzie’s argument, but I would gladly put this book on every Christian’s reading list.

Thoughtful reflection and historical perspective, but ultimately no easy answer

When Hillary Clinton misquoted de Tocqueville by saying ‘America is great because she is good’ she betrayed the liberal presupposition that that Americans are, in fact, “good.” The contrary presupposition of Christianity and our Founding Fathers (not necessarily the same) is that America is composed of fallen people who are capable of virtue, and at our best when we practice it. But too often we stumble, which is why we need a constitutional republic—not a strict democracy—with plenty of checks and balances. Only a generation after the framing of our constitution, Andrew Jackson stood this all on its head—assuming mob rule can work, because the mob is composed of “good people” (who, conveniently, adore their strong leader). And the historical parallels between his populism and Trump’s are uncanny—despite each one leading the opposite political party of their time—which should set off warning bells for us today: the perils to our system of self government come principally from within….if we’re not careful, we become our own worst enemy.

What I didn't Know about our Democracy

I highly recommend this book. I will be a wiser American and Christian from what I have learned. I so appreciate the author's research and humble critique of American democracy. Very insightful and very sobering!

Excellent historical analysis and theological reflection

McKenzie helps us think deeply and Christianly about our current political situation with helpful suggestions for response and action. Great narration in audiobook.

The strengths and weaknesses of a democracy

The humour in this book is nearly half the reason why I love it. Sometimes sardonic and often catching me off guard, because it's buried in the middle of some sober analysis.
Many was the time I'd burst out laughing, while listening to Bob Souer's narration.

Robert McKenzie points out in the clearest terms that democracy is not an absolute basis for good government - its only as good as the people who vote - if the majority are bad, their collective decisions will be bad.
The author spends a lot of time analysing the sagely writings of Alexis de Tocqueville. This is time well spent. It's remarkable how frequently politicians and the media on both the left and right, misquote De Tocqueville and twist his words to support their point of view.
Hearing an evangelical give such a candid assessment of the Evangelical Church's attachment to the Republican party is incredibly refreshing. For example, the author speaks frankly about the spiritual anomaly of "the church" throwing such unalloyed support behind Donald Trump. He writes in no uncertain terms about the blatant hypocrisy this represents. He does this without telling his readers to go and vote for Hillary or Bernie Sanders instead.
Overall, this book is chock-full of wisdom, with what I consider a very balanced assessment of both the strengths and the limitations of a democratically elected government.
Mckenzie is a historian who appears to be both pragmatic and yet unashamedly Christian. The book was so well written and so engaging. It's one of those that when you come to the end, you wish there was more.