Patriotism

I'm not sure I feel the kind of love for post-America I felt for America

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I’m struck by the simultaneous occurrences of two events that have scads to say about the current state of (post?-) America in this summer of 2026.

Who doesn’t love the stories of foreign visitors here for the FIFA World Cup discovering Buc-ees, Bass Pro Shop, ranch dressing, national parks, barbecue and hospitality? These are undeniably magnificent things, each in its own way. We should thank our guests for inviting us to view them afresh.

And then there’s the flop of a national state fair on the National Mall in Washington. The idea itself is really cool, but was clearly misconceived. I can think of several notable things about several of our states. But the way the states are presented in the various booths comes off like a junior-high scrapbook project.

Part of the problem with the ill-fated fair is that it’s plopped down in a tragically sullied environment. Washington has been defiled by a bulldozed White House East Wing, a cage-fighting spectacle on the White House lawn, a reflecting pool that looks like the overflow from a septic tank, the now-thankfully-rectified addition of the Very Stable Genius’s name to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, the prospect of a triumphal arch that would block the view of several revered landmarks, and those obscene banners of a scowling VSG hung at various cabinet-level department buildings.

I guess every country has its issues, countries being the aggregate of a particular cluster of fallen human beings. I therefore want to do what I can to ensure that my observations about where we are don’t amount to mere harping.

Still, much is unwell here.

I realize that politics is far from the most essential realm of human life, but it’s not unimportant. This is an election year, and decisions made in November will impact our lives, our range of choices about many things, and our bank accounts. And what of the two viable political parties from which we’ll (actually, make that “you’ll” since I’ll be staying home) do our choosing? One is in the death grip of a cult in thrall to an eighty-year-old toddler who cares for nothing but his glorification. The other is taking its century-plus leftward lurch to a new level with the victories of several Democratic Socialists of America members in primaries and general elections around the country.

There is the plethora of statistics about marriage and family formation rates, church attendance, teenagers’ lack of interest in cultivating their social selves, unfamiliarity with history and literature, and the withering of civic institutions. We’re now into the second or third generation of Americans who take the numbers for granted. How do we climb out from under that?

The folks here for the World Cup are getting a taste of one stratum of American culture, but what of that culture in its entirety?

What kinds of musical contributions has America made in this century? How do they stack up against Louis Armstrong, the Carter family, Duke Ellington, Arturo Toscanini, Frank Sinatra, Hank Williams, Chuck Berry, John Coltrane and Bob Dylan?

Where are the current century’s cinematic equals of Howard Hawks, John Ford, Billy Wilder, Frank Capra and Alfred Hitchcock, or the literary equals of Willa Cather, John Dos Passos, T.S. Eliot and Joan Didion?

So the question of how and why to be patriotic looms as we approach the 250th anniversary of our founding. Patriotism is generally deemed to be defined as love of country. And I suppose it’s a natural human sentiment to have a strong attachment to where one’s feet are planted. I feel a certain pride about the state from which I hail. The place is in my blood.

But on what basis does love for America find its grounding? A lot of people can tell you that, in the words of the supremely mawkish Lee Greenwood song, “at least I know I’m free.” But freedom needs a bit of discussion. Although it seems like a self-evident thing, the question of why freedom is to be valued is consequential.

For that discussion, we need to consult the minds from the lineage of thought that led to the Revolution and founding. John Locke, Montesquieu, Edmund Burke, Jefferson, Madison.

But who’s inclined to so consult? And thus do we turn our attention to distractions and stress.

I just can’t settle for a love of country merely based on its being vast and bustling, still leading the world in medical advances and welcoming sports stadiums. These are fine things, but the bottom line is that we’ve lost a core vibrancy, and that is because we’ve so badly lost sight of the transcendent.

So what role does patriotism play for me as we prepare for another annual day of grill-outs, fireworks and corny costumes?

I don’t know.

As longtime Precipice readers know, I often refer to this country as post-America, and I still think it’s valid. I love the above-mentioned hospitable nature of most of its citizens, and certainly the sweeping variety of its landscape. I love the cultural heritage it bequeathed. But I’m not alone in seeing our country as having lost sight of its original ideals.

And without them, a very sad question comes - or ought to come - to the forefront of what’s left of a national conversation in this polarized society: Why the hell should we continue to exist?