In the final part of Is America Broken?, US political analyst Michael Bedenbaugh argues that America’s crisis can only be resolved by stepping back from decades of expansion and restoring the balance of power its founders intended

In the first part of this series, Trump hasn’t broken America — he’s exposed what it really is, I argued that the rise of Donald Trump was not the cause of America’s dysfunction but a symptom of deeper contradictions within the nation itself. 

In the second part, President Trump is the product of a constitution stretched beyond its limits, I traced how those contradictions emerged through more than a century of structural change. A republic built on decentralisation, restraint, and local responsibility gradually evolved into a more centralised system—one dependent on national administration, permanent military commitments, concentrated economic power and political parties that reward division over deliberation.

Each of these changes addressed a real problem. Together, they moved the country away from the balance envisioned by the founders. If Parts one and two diagnosed that drift, Part three — the concluding instalment — must ask the question, Can that balance still be restored?

There remains, often overlooked amid the noise of modern politics, a large portion of Americans who still believe in the country’s founding principles. Not in perfection, but in structure — the idea that a free people can govern themselves, provided the system remains balanced, restrained and accountable.

As a preservationist, I have spent much of my life restoring old structures — places that have been neglected, altered, or misunderstood over time. From this, one lesson stands above all others: restoration does not mean starting over. Rather, it means understanding the foundation well enough to strengthen it without destroying what made it worth preserving in the first place.

The American republic is no different.

The system created in 1787 was not accidental but designed by individuals who had just lived through revolution and understood how fragile self-government could be. At the centre of that effort stood George Washington, not simply as a military leader but as the figure who gave legitimacy to the system by willingly relinquishing power.

In doing so, he established something more important than authority: restraint.

In his Farewell Address, Washington left a framework that outlined the pressures that could undermine a republic: the danger of faction, the burden of fiscal irresponsibility and the risk of foreign entanglement.

He expressly warned against faction becoming the organising principle of power, but today that warning has materialised in a form he would recognise. Political parties are no longer simply coalitions of ideas but national systems, interconnected networks of funding, media, consultants, and influence that reward loyalty over judgement and division over deliberation.

Campaigns depend on centralised funding, media ecosystems profit from outrage and legislative success is increasingly measured by partisan victory rather than functional outcomes. Conflict is, then, no longer a byproduct of governance but the intended product.

Political parties that were once rooted in local communities now operate as national organisations with local franchises. A Republican or Democratic voter in South Carolina is expected to think, speak and vote the same way as one in California or New York — despite the differences between those states.

Yet America’s diversity has always been one of its strengths. It is a nation bound by a shared commitment to liberty and local self-government.

Many Americans still understand this. When people say “Make America Great Again,” they are often expressing a desire to strengthen their town, church, school or community within the nation. 

But the structure of modern America pulls power away from those communities. Decisions are made farther away, wealth is drawn upward and local leadership is replaced by national brands.

The consequence is a cycle of frustration. Citizens who feel powerless locally turn to the only lever that remains: national authority. Politics becomes a contest to control that machinery and impose one vision across the country.

As I’ve stated before, Donald Trump did not create this dynamic. Yet he has certainly harnessed it, and it will persist unless the structure that produced it changes.

That change must be structural. Political power must move back toward the states and communities from which it came. National party machines must weaken. State and local parties should reflect the priorities of the places they represent rather than the demands of national consultants, donors and media networks.

The goal is not to eliminate parties but to prevent them from dominating the system they were meant to serve.

George Washington’s warning on fiscal matters was equally direct: public credit must be preserved and used sparingly.

Debt creates dependency, and dependency erodes independence — not only for individuals but also for governments.

The modern system has drifted from this principle. Revenue is increasingly centralised, flowing to Washington and then redistributed through layers of programmes and conditions. What appears to be coordination is, in practice, distance.

Local governments, responsible for delivering services, depend on resources they do not control. Citizens struggle to identify who is responsible for outcomes. Authority and accountability have been separated.

The founders envisioned something different: limited federal powers and broad, responsive state authority. Fiscal structure made that balance possible.

Restoring it does not require dismantling federal authority. Rather, authority must be aligned with accountability.

Revenue should remain closer to where it is generated. Local governments should fund local responsibilities. The cycle of sending money to Washington only to request its return should be reduced. Citizens should be able to see clearly which level of government is responsible for which functions.

When decisions are made closest to the people they affect, trust has a chance to be rebuilt.

Washington’s guidance on foreign policy may be the most relevant, and the most overlooked.

He cautioned against both habitual hatred and habitual fondness toward other nations. Either would compromise independence by tying decision-making to emotion, obligation or influence rather than national interest.

Since the Second World War, the United States has assumed a role the Constitution was not designed to sustain indefinitely: that of a permanent global power. This has required a standing military presence across the world, continuous involvement in regional conflicts and commitments that extend far beyond immediate necessity.

For decades, this role brought predictability to a dangerous world. That assumption is now changing.

The United States increasingly appears not as a stabilising force but as a disruptive one, intervening impulsively, demanding loyalty and producing uncertainty rather than order. Some allies who once feared a world without American leadership may now quietly welcome a reduction in its reach.

Some may see this as decline but I believe it may, instead, be an opportunity. 

A republic designed for self-government begins to strain when it is asked to function as an empire. Decision-making accelerates, power concentrates, and he balance between deliberation and action begins to disappear.

This is where restraint becomes essential.

Restraint does not mean disengagement. Instead, it means avoiding unnecessary entanglements that do not serve long-term stability. It means using military force only when clearly aligned with defined national interests. It means prioritising diplomacy, trade and regional responsibility over perpetual intervention.

It also requires confronting the influence of economic interests on foreign policy, where decisions measured in national terms become entangled with incentives that prioritise profit over stability.

The United States was originally designed less like a traditional nation-state and more like a voluntary union of distinct states — closer in concept to the European Union — sharing certain responsibilities while preserving their own identities.

The challenge today is that a system built to manage diversity is now expected to produce uniformity.

A functioning America that is a friend to other nations does not look like the nation it has become. It looks more like the one it was designed to be: a diverse republic, restrained abroad and representative at home.

Achieving that will require structural reform: distinguishing clearly between natural persons and artificial entities so that corporations do not enjoy the same political rights as citizens; repealing the Seventeenth Amendment (which introduced direct election of senators) to restore the Senate’s role as a body representing state interests; limiting campaign contributions to constituents who can vote for a candidate; and weakening the legal and financial dominance of national party organisations in favour of state-based parties.

These changes would not solve every problem. But together they would move the country toward a system that reflects its diversity while reinforcing the goals most citizens still share: safety for their families, economic vitality for their communities and a fair and decent approach to other nations.

Political culture, fiscal structure and foreign policy are expressions of the same imbalance: centralisation without accountability and power without restraint.

The solution is not to abandon America but to restore the principles on which it was built. Like any worthwhile restoration, the goal is not to erase the structure but to rehabilitate it so that it can function as intended.

This is not a call to return to the eighteenth century but one to recover the principles that allowed a republic to function before it was asked to manage the responsibilities of an empire.

Because in the end, the strength of a republic is not measured by the reach of its power but by its ability to restrain it — both at home and abroad.

Author and political thinker Michael Bedenbaugh is a respected voice in constitutional principles and American governance. Based in South Carolina, he is deeply involved in his home state’s development while contributing to national discussions on governance and civic engagement, most recently as standing as an independent candidate for Congress. He is the author of Reviving Our Republic: 95 Theses for the Future of America and the host of YouTube channel Reviving Our Republic with Mike Bedenbaugh.

READ MORE: ‘President Trump is the product of a constitution stretched beyond its limits‘. In the second part of Is America Broken?, US political analyst Michael Bedenbaugh reveals how Donald Trump did not emerge in isolation but from a political system that for more than a century has been drifting further from its founding principles.

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