Quilling illustration for Federalist No. 14
Federalist No. 14

Answering the Objection that Big Government is Unwieldy

Generated summaryA republic, unlike a direct democracy, can stretch across a large territory, because representation lets citizens govern through elected delegates instead of gathering in one place, so the Union's sheer size is no obstacle to republican government.
Key points
  • The objection that a republic cannot span a large territory confuses a republic with a democracy.
  • A democracy, where the people govern in person, must stay small; a republic, governing through representatives, may extend far.
  • Europe gave us representation, but America has made it the basis of large, extensive republics.
  • A republic’s true limit is whether its representatives can convene; the Union, smaller than Germany or Poland, lies well within it.
  • The general government is confined to enumerated national objects; the states keep authority over all the rest.
  • Nearly every state is a frontier, so even those farthest from the Union’s heart most need its strength.
  • Reject the voice of disunion: the most alarming novelty of all is to tear the Union apart to preserve liberty.

We have seen why the Union is necessary. It is our bulwark against foreign danger and the keeper of peace among ourselves. It guards our commerce and our other common interests. It is the only substitute for the standing armies that have destroyed the liberties of the Old World. And it is the proper remedy for the disease of faction, which has proved fatal to other popular governments, and whose alarming symptoms our own has already shown.

One thing remains in this branch of our inquiry: to answer an objection drawn from the great extent of country that the Union embraces. A few remarks on it are the more fitting because the enemies of the new Constitution are exploiting the common prejudice about how large a republic can practically be, using imaginary difficulties to supply the solid objections they try in vain to find.

The error that confines republican government to a narrow district has been refuted in earlier papers. I note here only that it arises chiefly from confusing a republic with a democracy, and applying to the one reasoning that fits only the other. The true difference between these forms I have also touched on before.

The difference is this: in a democracy the people meet and govern in person; in a republic they assemble and govern through their representatives and agents. A democracy must therefore be confined to a small spot; a republic can be spread over a large region. To this source of the error some celebrated writers have added an artifice of their own. Being subjects of a monarchy, absolute or limited, they tried to heighten its advantages, or excuse its evils, by contrasting them with the vices of the republican form, and they offered as examples of that form the turbulent democracies of ancient Greece and modern Italy. Under this confusion of names, it was easy to transfer to a republic what belongs only to a democracy, including the claim that it can exist only among a small number of people living within a small territory.

The mistake passed the more easily because most of the popular governments of antiquity were democracies, and even in modern Europe, to which we owe the great principle of representation, there is no example of a government founded wholly on that principle. If Europe deserves credit for discovering this powerful device in government, by which the will of the largest political body can be concentrated and directed to any object the public good requires, America can claim the credit of making that discovery the basis of broad and extensive republics.

It is only to be regretted that any of her citizens should wish to rob her of the further credit of displaying its full power in the broad system now under her consideration.

The natural limit of a democracy is the distance from the center that still lets the most remote citizens gather as often as their public duties require, taking in no more people than can share in those duties. The natural limit of a republic is the distance from the center that barely lets its representatives meet as often as public business demands. Do the limits of the United States exceed that distance? No one will say so who remembers that the Atlantic coast is the longest side of the Union; that for thirteen years the representatives of the states have been almost continually assembled; and that the members from the most distant states have missed no more sessions than those near Congress.

To judge this matter better, let us look at the actual size of the Union. Its limits, fixed by the treaty of peace, are the Atlantic on the east, the line of thirty-one degrees on the south, the Mississippi on the west, and on the north an irregular line running in places beyond the forty-fifth degree and in others as low as the forty-second. Reckoning from the thirty-first to the forty-fifth degree gives nine hundred and seventy-three miles; from thirty-one to forty-two, seven hundred and sixty-four and a half; the mean is about eight hundred and sixty-nine miles. The mean distance from the Atlantic to the Mississippi is probably no more than seven hundred and fifty. Compared with several countries of Europe, our system plainly can be made to fit. It is not much larger than Germany, where a diet representing the whole empire is always in session, or than Poland before its late partition, which had a national diet of its own. And in Britain, small as it is, the representatives from the northern tip of the island travel as far to the national council as the most remote members of our Union would. Favorable as this view is, more can be said to make it still clearer.

First, remember that the general government is not charged with the whole work of making and administering laws. Its jurisdiction is limited to certain listed objects, which concern all the members of the republic but cannot be reached by any one of them separately. The state governments, which can attend to all the other subjects that can be handled separately, keep their proper authority and activity. Were the plan of the convention proposing to abolish the state governments, its opponents would have some ground for their objection, though even then it would be easy to show that the general government would be forced, by the law of self-preservation, to restore them to their proper jurisdiction.

A second point is that the immediate aim of the federal Constitution is to secure the union of the thirteen original states, which we know is workable, and to add such further states as may arise within or beside them, which we cannot doubt is equally workable. Whatever arrangements the remote corners of our northwestern frontier may need can be left to those whom later discovery and experience will make fitter for the task.

A third point is that travel throughout the Union will be eased by new improvements. Roads everywhere will be shortened and better kept; inns for travelers will multiply and improve; inland navigation along our eastern side will be opened through nearly the whole length of the thirteen states. And communication between the western and Atlantic districts, and within each of them, will be made ever easier by the many canals that nature has traced across our country and that art can join and complete with little difficulty.

A fourth and weightier point is that nearly every state will be a frontier on one side or another, and so will have reason, for its own safety, to make some sacrifice for the general protection. The states that lie farthest from the heart of the Union, and share least in the ordinary flow of its benefits, will also be the ones closest to foreign nations, and so on particular occasions will most need the Union’s strength and resources. It may be inconvenient for Georgia, or for our western and northeastern border states, to send their representatives to the seat of government; but it would be far more inconvenient to struggle alone against an invading enemy, or to bear alone the whole cost of the precautions that constant danger demands. If they gain less from the Union in some respects than the nearer states, they gain more in others, and so the proper balance is kept throughout.

I lay these considerations before you, my fellow citizens, trusting the good sense that has so often marked your decisions. Do not let difficulties, however great they seem or however fashionable the error behind them, drive you into the gloomy and perilous scene to which the advocates of disunion would lead you. Do not listen to the unnatural voice that tells you the people of America can no longer live as members of one family. We are bound together by so many cords of affection. That voice would tell you we can no longer be the mutual guardians of our happiness, no longer fellow citizens of one great and flourishing empire. Do not listen, either, to the voice that peevishly calls the proposed government a novelty in the world, one never seen in the theories of the wildest dreamers, one that rashly attempts the impossible. No, my countrymen, shut your ears to this unholy language, and shut your hearts to its poison. The kindred blood in the veins of American citizens, and the mingled blood they have shed for their sacred rights, consecrate their Union. The thought of their becoming aliens, rivals, enemies should fill us with horror. And if novelties are to be shunned, believe me, the most alarming novelty of all is to tear us into pieces in order to preserve our liberties and happiness. But why reject the experiment of an extended republic merely because it includes something new? It is the glory of the people of America that they have paid a decent respect to the opinions of former times and other nations, yet not bowed blindly to the past, to custom, or to mere names. They have trusted their own good sense, their knowledge of their own situation, and the lessons of their own experience. To this manly spirit posterity will owe the enjoyment, and the world the example, of the many innovations made on the American stage for private rights and public happiness. Suppose the leaders of the Revolution had taken no step without a precedent, and set up no government without an exact model. The people of the United States might now be counted among the sad victims of misguided counsels. At best they would be laboring under some of the forms that have crushed the liberties of the rest of mankind. Happily for America, and we trust for the whole human race, they took a new and nobler course. They achieved a revolution with no parallel in the history of human society. They raised frameworks of government with no model anywhere on earth. They designed a great confederacy, which it falls to their successors to improve and preserve. If their work shows imperfections, we should wonder how few they are. If they erred most in the structure of the Union, that was the hardest work of all. And it is the very work now reshaped by the act of your convention, the act on which you are to deliberate and decide.