“Our Constitution . . . Should Be Read by Intelligent and Patriotic Men”: A Statistical Analysis of Constitutional Rhetoric

William D. Blake

In the final Lincoln-Douglas debate, Abraham Lincoln reiterated one of his central arguments—that the Constitution used “covert language” when entrenching slavery as a founding principle. Lincoln interpreted this linguistic strategy as evidence that the Founders “expected and intended the institution of slavery to come to an end.” He stated:

I understand the contemporaneous history of those times to be that covert language was used with a purpose, and that purpose was that in our Constitution, which it was hoped and is still hoped will endure forever—when it should be read by intelligent and patriotic men, after the institution of slavery had passed from among us—there should be nothing on the face of the great charter of liberty suggesting that such a thing as negro slavery had ever existed among us.

The audience then interrupted the future president with “enthusiastic applause.”

Across the seven debates, Lincoln and Douglas referenced the phrase “constitution” 388 times, as both participants offered intricate arguments on subjects ranging from Dred Scott to the Lecompton Constitution. I highlight this passage for two reasons. First, Lincoln provides a boldly revisionist understanding of the U.S. Constitution: By recognizing its flawed origin, he turns the original sin of slavery into a prophecy for constitutional rebirth. Second, consider the context in which he delivered this line. One might expect such a nuanced argument to be offered to a small gathering of intellectuals, yet Lincoln told his constitutional parable to a crowd of 5,000 on a cloudy October day in Alton, Illinois.

Some prior debates drew crowds two-to-three times larger, prompting the Chicago and Alton Railroad to offer half price fares to Springfield residents wanting to catch the finale. People also poured in via steamboat (after paying the 2022 equivalent of thirty-four dollars for a ticket) from St. Louis, even though Missourians had no say in deciding the Illinois Senate race. In the mid-nineteenth century, constitutional politics was public spectacle in ways we can analogize to sporting events today. Levels of formal education among the crowd in Alton were likely much lower than what we would find among fans attending the Super Bowl, yet neither Douglas nor Lincoln dumbed themselves down to keep the audience entertained. In other words, the Lincoln-Douglas debates call into question Justice Scalia’s observation that there is a reason “why the University of Chicago Law Review is not sold at the 7-Eleven.”

Constitutionalism in contemporary America, by contrast, seems to have moved away from the public square and into the ivory tower and the Marble Palace. One recent poll found that only forty-three percent of Americans have ever read the Constitution. Leaders, for their part, often avoid serious public engagement (on any subject). To cite but one example, when Donald Trump attempted to explain the role of state governments in responding to the COVID-19 pandemic, he said, “[y]ou can look at it constitutionally, you could look at federalism. . . . The federal government has absolute power.” I doubt whether many attendees of the Lincoln-Douglas debates would have accepted such a facile response to such a vexing social problem.

What happened? In this Essay, I offer a preliminary, quantitative account of the decline of constitutional rhetoric by analyzing presidential speeches. By detailing when and why presidents changed their rhetorical practices, I hope to show how the civic capacity of “we the people” has shifted. Building off prominent studies of political and constitutional development, I discuss two reasons why presidents are now less likely to engage in constitutional argumentation. First, political scientist Jeffrey Tulis’s concept of the “rhetorical presidency” suggests that modern presidents have been much more likely to see the American constitutional system as an obstacle to be overcome, rather than a political objective in its own right. As presidents became more involved in policy debates by “going public,” constitutional rhetoric was crowded out.

Second, the conduct of American politics has become highly professionalized in recent decades, allowing presidents to deliver more speeches and written messages. Speechwriters and advisors have realized the safest strategy is to calibrate presidential rhetoric to the lowest common denominator. As political scientist Elvin Lim notes, presidential rhetoric has been defined by “the increasing substitution of arguments with applause-rendering platitudes, partisan punch lines, and emotional and human interest appeals.” According to a new political science study, recent State of the Union addresses are about as linguistically complex as a fifth-grade textbook. It is hard to lead an adult conversation about the Constitution when you assume your audience are children sitting cross-legged on a gymnasium floor.

I then analyze a dataset of more than 16,000 spoken presidential communications from George Washington to Joe Biden. Multi-level negative binomial regression analysis indicates that the decline in references to the Constitution coincides with the development of the rhetorical presidency. As further corroboration, I find strong, negative correlations between constitutional references and the frequency and simplicity of presidential speeches, as well as the growth of White House staff. The data also provide an initial insight as to what rhetorical themes fill the void: references to the economy. Finally, Republican presidents mention the Constitution at a significantly higher rate compared to Democratic chief executives.

Citizens rely on elite cues to form political attitudes. Given recent increases in rhetorical simplicity, it is unsurprising that political science is so pessimistic about mass-level political knowledge and engagement. Yet, I conclude by offering a more optimistic take. If elected officials decided to elevate the quality and quantity of their constitutional rhetoric, these findings suggest citizen efficacy and sophistication will follow suit. While we may not ever return to the days when a Senate debate will draw a larger crowd than the Super Bowl, there is no reason why constitutional politics need remain so withered.