Alarmist headlines about America’s supposed unraveling have become a daily part of life. We’ve been through the trauma of COVID and the uncertainty of trade wars, seen hyper-partisan politics and changing attitudes about governance, and are coping with rising loneliness, deaths of despair and fraying institutional trust.
But in certain circles, it has become fashionable to forecast doom, citing our problems as proof that the very fabric of American society is coming apart.
Fortunately, in many critical areas, the data tell a more complex and hopeful story — and the reason why is right in front of us.
The economy is managing a year of uncertainty fairly well. Unemployment is low. Inflation has eased.
America’s social discourse may not always seem peaceful, but incarceration and homicide rates have declined. Even mass shootings, while still tragically present (and by no means something that should be ignored) have decreased.
These are not guarantees of sustained progress, but they do point toward a time-tested phenomenon: When the U.S. economic and social fabric is tested, it tends to hold. We tend to bounce back. America is hard to break.
What explains this remarkable resilience?
It is tempting to credit policymakers, and leadership does matter a great deal. But resilience is embedded deeper in the American design. It’s in the software of our institutions, our culture and our decentralized way of solving problems — specific features that even now are helping to absorb shocks, adapt and even thrive amid disruption.
Our founders understood this, embedding resilience not just in our Constitution, but in the operating assumptions of a pluralistic society.
Resilient systems share common traits. They are decentralized. Their institutions are diverse and varied. Individuals, as well as these institutions, have plenty of autonomy. And they tolerate — even encourage — bottom-up innovation. American federalism exemplifies all of this.
Our states are not just administrative units; they are laboratories of democracy. California may try one path on energy policy; Texas, another. Successes are studied, failures iterated upon.
Despite opposing public stances, behind the scenes, the two states may learn from one another and eventually, perhaps quietly, adapt. Better yet, other states can see what’s working best. It’s institutional evolution through experimentation.
Think about one of America’s widest-reaching problems, and one seemingly beyond the ability of Washington policymakers alone to solve: crippling housing costs. Spurred by concerned residents of their own communities, countless municipalities and states are working on it, each trying different approaches.
Mistakes will be made. Workable solutions are slowly emerging.
Elinor Ostrom, the first woman to win the Nobel Prize in Economics, championed this power of “polycentric” governance.
Economist Edmund Phelps, in “Mass Flourishing,” highlights the unique dynamism of American culture: Ordinary people, not just elites or credentialed gatekeepers, are given the space to try, fail and try again. We don’t need bureaucratic innovation boards to vet good ideas. Through voluntary exchange and decentralized trial-and-error, we find what works together.
This spirit isn’t just cultural; it’s structural. Bankruptcy laws, financial markets and legal frameworks support entrepreneurial risk-taking in ways few other countries do. It’s no coincidence that America remains the birthplace of more transformative businesses than Europe or Asia.
Resilience is about survival — as well as the capacity to bounce back. After Hurricane Katrina, my colleagues spent time studying Louisiana’s recovery. We saw communities that did not wait for permission to rebuild. Civil society mobilized. Neighbors helped neighbors. Locals found creative solutions. That’s resilience in motion, powered not by bureaucracy but by civic imagination.
But resilience, like any software, can be corrupted. Nations fail, empires crumble, and communities, including some in the U.S., fracture. It requires stewardship.
When we stifle experimentation, centralize power excessively or undermine institutions that enable pluralism, we erode the very systems that have given us the power to withstand so much.
American dynamism is not guaranteed. But it is embedded in our design — if we choose to protect and nurture it.
Benjamin Klutsey is the executive director of the Mercatus Center at George Mason University.
