Embedded in the national conversation is a debate over which future is desirable: one grounded in familiar tradition or one open to progress. Louis Menand explores this contrast between premodern and modern life: “The problem of change is the problem of modern cultures. In a premodern society, the ends of life are given at the beginning of life. When you are born you understand what your tasks are because it is given to you by your family, your community, your nation. And the task of the community and the task of the nation is the same as your task – which is to reproduce the customs, the practices and the values of that group. So at the end of life you can look back and see that you have fulfilled this role that you were born into, with the understanding that if you have been successful in reproducing the customs, you are successful in life.”
“In modern cultures,” Menand continues, “you don’t have that assurance because the ends of life are not given at the beginning of life.” Modernity replaces certainty with choice, creating a life path that is less defined by the past and more open to the future.
Each election, Americans vote not only for a leader but for a vision of the future—whether to reach toward a familiar past or to embrace an uncertain future. This tension represents an ongoing national decision between the comfort of tradition and the potential of change.
Each election, Americans vote not only for a leader but for a vision of the future—whether to reach toward a familiar past or to embrace an uncertain future. This tension represents an ongoing national decision between the comfort of tradition and the potential of change.
Tradition offers a certain future, where continuity defines success, while progress introduces the potential for a better, if unpredictable, future.
In 1800, when Thomas Jefferson—who would double the size of the country through the Louisiana Purchase—was elected, America’s frontier faced uncharted lands. By moving the frontier westward by a thousand miles, he expanded the nation's horizon physically. Today, in 2024, our frontiers are less geographic and more conceptual. They encompass unexplored ideas, evolving lifestyles, innovative policies, new business models, institutions, products, and cultures. The American choice is no longer simply a physical frontier but one that asks whether we embrace unknown ideas or cling to familiar ways.
Do Americans put their trust in tradition or innovation? In the familiar or the unknown? In nostalgia or hope? Are they eager to make the country great again or to make it great in genuinely new ways? This is one of the defining choices of each campaign: a vote for a culture rooted in continuity or one committed to progress. Every election reopens this profound choice—a cyclical conflict between preserving what we know and daring to move into an unknown frontier.
Do Americans put their trust in tradition or innovation? In the familiar or the unknown? In nostalgia or hope? Are they eager to make the country great again or to make it great in genuinely new ways? This is one of the defining choices of each campaign: a vote for a culture rooted in continuity or one committed to progress. Every election reopens this profound choice—a cyclical conflict between preserving what we know and daring to move into an unknown frontier.