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First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country
New York Times Bestseller
Editors' Choice —New York Times Book Review
"Ricks knocks it out of the park with this jewel of a book. On every page I learned something new. Read it every night if you want to restore your faith in our country." —James Mattis, General, U.S. Marines (ret.) & 26th Secretary of Defense
The Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and #1 New York Times bestselling author offers a revelatory new book about the founding fathers, examining their educations and, in particular, their devotion to the ancient Greek and Roman classics—and how that influence would shape their ideals and the new American nation.
On the morning after the 2016 presidential election, Thomas Ricks awoke with a few questions on his mind: What kind of nation did we now have? Is it what was designed or intended by the nation’s founders? Trying to get as close to the source as he could, Ricks decided to go back and read the philosophy and literature that shaped the founders’ thinking, and the letters they wrote to each other debating these crucial works—among them the Iliad, Plutarch’s Lives, and the works of Xenophon, Epicurus, Aristotle, Cato, and Cicero. For though much attention has been paid the influence of English political philosophers, like John Locke, closer to their own era, the founders were far more immersed in the literature of the ancient world.
The first four American presidents came to their classical knowledge differently. Washington absorbed it mainly from the elite culture of his day; Adams from the laws and rhetoric of Rome; Jefferson immersed himself in classical philosophy, especially Epicureanism; and Madison, both a groundbreaking researcher and a deft politician, spent years studying the ancient world like a political scientist. Each of their experiences, and distinctive learning, played an essential role in the formation of the United States. In examining how and what they studied, looking at them in the unusual light of the classical world, Ricks is able to draw arresting and fresh portraits of men we thought we knew.
First Principles follows these four members of the Revolutionary generation from their youths to their adult lives, as they grappled with questions of independence, and forming and keeping a new nation. In doing so, Ricks interprets not only the effect of the ancient world on each man, and how that shaped our constitution and government, but offers startling new insights into these legendary leaders.
Editors' Choice —New York Times Book Review
"Ricks knocks it out of the park with this jewel of a book. On every page I learned something new. Read it every night if you want to restore your faith in our country." —James Mattis, General, U.S. Marines (ret.) & 26th Secretary of Defense
The Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and #1 New York Times bestselling author offers a revelatory new book about the founding fathers, examining their educations and, in particular, their devotion to the ancient Greek and Roman classics—and how that influence would shape their ideals and the new American nation.
On the morning after the 2016 presidential election, Thomas Ricks awoke with a few questions on his mind: What kind of nation did we now have? Is it what was designed or intended by the nation’s founders? Trying to get as close to the source as he could, Ricks decided to go back and read the philosophy and literature that shaped the founders’ thinking, and the letters they wrote to each other debating these crucial works—among them the Iliad, Plutarch’s Lives, and the works of Xenophon, Epicurus, Aristotle, Cato, and Cicero. For though much attention has been paid the influence of English political philosophers, like John Locke, closer to their own era, the founders were far more immersed in the literature of the ancient world.
The first four American presidents came to their classical knowledge differently. Washington absorbed it mainly from the elite culture of his day; Adams from the laws and rhetoric of Rome; Jefferson immersed himself in classical philosophy, especially Epicureanism; and Madison, both a groundbreaking researcher and a deft politician, spent years studying the ancient world like a political scientist. Each of their experiences, and distinctive learning, played an essential role in the formation of the United States. In examining how and what they studied, looking at them in the unusual light of the classical world, Ricks is able to draw arresting and fresh portraits of men we thought we knew.
First Principles follows these four members of the Revolutionary generation from their youths to their adult lives, as they grappled with questions of independence, and forming and keeping a new nation. In doing so, Ricks interprets not only the effect of the ancient world on each man, and how that shaped our constitution and government, but offers startling new insights into these legendary leaders.
416 pages, ebook
First published November 10, 2020
1735 people are currently reading
7067 people want to read
About the author
Thomas E. Ricks
18 books435 followersThomas Edwin "Tom" Ricks (born September 25, 1955) is an American journalist who writes on defense topics. He is a Pulitzer Prize-winning former reporter for the Wall Street Journal and Washington Post. He writes a blog at ForeignPolicy.com and is a member of the Center for a New American Security, a defense policy think tank.
He lectures widely to the military and is a member of Harvard University's Senior Advisory Council on the Project on U.S. Civil-Military Relations. He has reported on military activities in Somalia, Haiti, Korea, Bosnia, Kosovo, Macedonia, Kuwait, Turkey, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Ricks is author of five books: the bestselling Fiasco: The American Military Adventure In Iraq (2006), its follow-up The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006-2008 (2009), The Generals: American Military Command from World War II to Today (2012), the novel A Soldier's Duty (2001), and Making the Corps (1997) (from wikipedia)
He lectures widely to the military and is a member of Harvard University's Senior Advisory Council on the Project on U.S. Civil-Military Relations. He has reported on military activities in Somalia, Haiti, Korea, Bosnia, Kosovo, Macedonia, Kuwait, Turkey, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Ricks is author of five books: the bestselling Fiasco: The American Military Adventure In Iraq (2006), its follow-up The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006-2008 (2009), The Generals: American Military Command from World War II to Today (2012), the novel A Soldier's Duty (2001), and Making the Corps (1997) (from wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 493 reviews
January 5, 2021
I haven't been good about keeping up with entering the books I read on Goodreads, but this one irked me enough to want to warn people.
First Principles got on my nerves almost right away. I was so excited about the topic, after all, I'm a philhellene and admire the ancient Romans almost as much as I admire the ancient Greeks. I also am a great admirer of James Madison and the whole enlightenment project that the U.S. Constitution represents. Because of this, a book with the subtitle "What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How that Shaped Our Country" sounded fascinating. Well, don't bother. Thomas Ricks lacks both an understanding of ancient Greek and Roman thought and, most surprisingly, given all the reading he says he did in preparation for writing this book, any clear notion of what those ideas meant to men of the 18th-century enlightenment.
Perhaps worst of all is his obviously, and needless, over-arguing. Just one small example will give you an idea of why I question his intellectual integrity. Right in the beginning, he talks about one of my favorite topics -- the ancient concept of virtue. He states on p. 6 that the word "virtue" appears more than the word "freedom" in the Founders Online database at the National Archives. I appreciate the point he is making, namely that the ancient concept of virtue was important to the Founding Fathers BUT why does he set up a false dichotomy? Hardly anyone in the 1700s used the word "freedom" -- they used the word "liberty." So why does Ricks mislead his readers? I would not have considered his discussion of virtue any less interesting if he had said the Founding Fathers' concerns about virtue were only second to their concerns about liberty. But Ricks misrepresents the facts because he wants to make his point about virtue even stronger by giving us the impression the Founding Fathers cared about it more than "freedom" -- which they did not -- they cared about it only second to "liberty," the word they used to mean what we more commonly speak of as "freedom." Anyway, there are other examples like the one above. So I asked myself, given the misrepresentations I did find, how many did I miss?
Instead of giving us a book that explains how the ideas of the ancients were understood by the founding fathers, Ricks gives us a book that mostly just criticizes the Founding Fathers by looking at their ideas (and those of the ancients they admired) through a modern lens that is so tainted by current prejudices that it does little to nothing to deliver on the book's subtitle.
If you want to understand what the Founders learned from the Greeks and Romans, you are better off reading some of the documents in the Founders Online database yourself, or alternatively, watch the Great Courses lectures on The Federalist Papers. Either one of those approaches would be more worth your time than reading Thomas Ricks' First Principles.
First Principles got on my nerves almost right away. I was so excited about the topic, after all, I'm a philhellene and admire the ancient Romans almost as much as I admire the ancient Greeks. I also am a great admirer of James Madison and the whole enlightenment project that the U.S. Constitution represents. Because of this, a book with the subtitle "What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How that Shaped Our Country" sounded fascinating. Well, don't bother. Thomas Ricks lacks both an understanding of ancient Greek and Roman thought and, most surprisingly, given all the reading he says he did in preparation for writing this book, any clear notion of what those ideas meant to men of the 18th-century enlightenment.
Perhaps worst of all is his obviously, and needless, over-arguing. Just one small example will give you an idea of why I question his intellectual integrity. Right in the beginning, he talks about one of my favorite topics -- the ancient concept of virtue. He states on p. 6 that the word "virtue" appears more than the word "freedom" in the Founders Online database at the National Archives. I appreciate the point he is making, namely that the ancient concept of virtue was important to the Founding Fathers BUT why does he set up a false dichotomy? Hardly anyone in the 1700s used the word "freedom" -- they used the word "liberty." So why does Ricks mislead his readers? I would not have considered his discussion of virtue any less interesting if he had said the Founding Fathers' concerns about virtue were only second to their concerns about liberty. But Ricks misrepresents the facts because he wants to make his point about virtue even stronger by giving us the impression the Founding Fathers cared about it more than "freedom" -- which they did not -- they cared about it only second to "liberty," the word they used to mean what we more commonly speak of as "freedom." Anyway, there are other examples like the one above. So I asked myself, given the misrepresentations I did find, how many did I miss?
Instead of giving us a book that explains how the ideas of the ancients were understood by the founding fathers, Ricks gives us a book that mostly just criticizes the Founding Fathers by looking at their ideas (and those of the ancients they admired) through a modern lens that is so tainted by current prejudices that it does little to nothing to deliver on the book's subtitle.
If you want to understand what the Founders learned from the Greeks and Romans, you are better off reading some of the documents in the Founders Online database yourself, or alternatively, watch the Great Courses lectures on The Federalist Papers. Either one of those approaches would be more worth your time than reading Thomas Ricks' First Principles.
November 19, 2020
I have read many books on the "Revolutionary period" in American history, and after reading Mr. Ricks' book, "First Principles," I am convinced that if I read a thousand more books on this period I would only know about half of what there is to know.
Mr. Ricks' book is an amazing analysis of where our first four Presidents, and many of the founders like Alexander Hamilton, got their ideas about how to form a government, and how these ideas are present in the 'Declaration of Independence,' and the 'US Constitution.'
It was what these individuals learned from the Greeks and Romans that would form the foundation of our country. Except for Jefferson, Presidents Washington, Adams, and Madison were greatly influenced by Roman writers such as Cicero, Cato, and stories of Cincinnatus, Ceasar, and Catiline. On the Greek side, Jefferson, especially, was influenced by Plato and Aristotle, and works like "Iliad and Plutarch's Lives."
Jefferson, who designed much of the Capital in Washington, DC, literally got all his ideas from Roman structures, and that's the reason there are so many dome buildings in the Capital.
In short, anyone interested in the Revolutionary period and the men behind the construction of America should read this amazing, and informative book. One final thought, I always felt that George Washington was the most important person in American history, and this book undeniably proves that he was "The Indespensible Man," in the creation of our nation.
Mr. Ricks' book is an amazing analysis of where our first four Presidents, and many of the founders like Alexander Hamilton, got their ideas about how to form a government, and how these ideas are present in the 'Declaration of Independence,' and the 'US Constitution.'
It was what these individuals learned from the Greeks and Romans that would form the foundation of our country. Except for Jefferson, Presidents Washington, Adams, and Madison were greatly influenced by Roman writers such as Cicero, Cato, and stories of Cincinnatus, Ceasar, and Catiline. On the Greek side, Jefferson, especially, was influenced by Plato and Aristotle, and works like "Iliad and Plutarch's Lives."
Jefferson, who designed much of the Capital in Washington, DC, literally got all his ideas from Roman structures, and that's the reason there are so many dome buildings in the Capital.
In short, anyone interested in the Revolutionary period and the men behind the construction of America should read this amazing, and informative book. One final thought, I always felt that George Washington was the most important person in American history, and this book undeniably proves that he was "The Indespensible Man," in the creation of our nation.
December 26, 2020
Virtue. The 18th century definition of virtue “putting the common good before one’s own interests” came from ancient Roman philosophy. The Enlightment theorist, Montesquieu believed that virtue was the one indispensable quality in a republic. Washington, whom did not have college degree, strove to live his life virtuously. Adams, educated at Harvard, was immersed in the Roman principles.
Jefferson, who studied at William and Mary and was exposed to the teachings of the Scottish Enlightenment and preferred the Greet philosophers over the Romans. He was attracted to Epicurean thought emphasizing happiness as “the aim of life”. Madison, was educated at King’s College (Princeton) which drew students from throughout the colonies. He was the main force behind the Constitution and decided that virtue among public leaders could not be counted on, that self-interest would triumph without checks and balances. Hence, our divided government to counter the temptation of tyranny.
Ricks made a study of what the four key founders read, how they were educated, and what influenced their thinking. Based on his research, Washington’s and Madison’s reputations rose in esteem, Adams’ definitely fell, with Jeffersons’ not much better. Having read biographies of all four men, Ricks’ book is an indispensable addition to understanding what these founders were thinking. Importantly, it is clear that they would be appalled by the rise of an oligarchy of wealthy individuals and leaders—including the bizarre concept that corporations are people. Highly recommend.
Jefferson, who studied at William and Mary and was exposed to the teachings of the Scottish Enlightenment and preferred the Greet philosophers over the Romans. He was attracted to Epicurean thought emphasizing happiness as “the aim of life”. Madison, was educated at King’s College (Princeton) which drew students from throughout the colonies. He was the main force behind the Constitution and decided that virtue among public leaders could not be counted on, that self-interest would triumph without checks and balances. Hence, our divided government to counter the temptation of tyranny.
Ricks made a study of what the four key founders read, how they were educated, and what influenced their thinking. Based on his research, Washington’s and Madison’s reputations rose in esteem, Adams’ definitely fell, with Jeffersons’ not much better. Having read biographies of all four men, Ricks’ book is an indispensable addition to understanding what these founders were thinking. Importantly, it is clear that they would be appalled by the rise of an oligarchy of wealthy individuals and leaders—including the bizarre concept that corporations are people. Highly recommend.
February 22, 2021
A project apparently conceived to show that what made America great has more to do with the intellectual and historical influence of Greece and Rome on the early days of the country and the formation of the Constitution than some conservative white-washed post-WWII good-old-days patriotic mirage. A gift from my mother who started reading this and thought I should have a copy so I raced to finish it before her (take that, Mom). Definitely worthwhile and well beyond a refresher, filled with interesting bits, especially early on about Washington's role in the French and Indian war, also the role of the Scottish educators in the early American colleges (ah, now I know where that preppie plaid comes from), and the founders' understanding of the texts and history of classical Greece and Rome and how that influenced the country early on. Extends the reading list to include Plutarch's Lives and Cicero, at the very least. Makes me want to re-visit the Federalist Papers and rotate more history into my regular reading program. Generally well sequenced, with short chapters regularly interrupted by subheadings as a scaffolding to make it through, although at first the structuring made it seem a little like pop history -- by the end that initial sense had fallen away. Anyway, worth it for those looking for something to refresh and extend their understanding of the country's foundation, especially after a would-be tyrant incited an attempt to overthrow its processes on January 6.
August 12, 2022
With a few stellar exceptions, it has become, within the last fifteen years or so, almost prohibitively difficult to find books on early American history or civics that are not written in the limpid pedantics of a children’s story or the dull cant of a trashy tabloid exposé. In the volume here assembled, Thomas Ricks has managed to combine both idioms, while also bookending his work with some inane political banter that contributes nothing to his study, but which likely opened up a few marketing time-slots on the cable news channels. More impressively still, he has somehow managed to write a three-hundred-plus-page book that scrupulously avoids its own ostensive subject matter. One might be led by the subtitle to believe that First Principles is about what America’s founders learned from the Greeks and Romans, and how that shaped our country; but au contraire. Don’t expect to learn much of anything about the Greeks or Romans, or their influence over the Founding Fathers, or how this influence manifested itself in American government, history, or culture, or what lessons we can take away from these things to apply to our contemporary national difficulties. Do expect some biographical trivia and elementary school clichés. And if you manage to learn something, be sure to check up on the primary sources, because it may not even be accurate.
George Washington was not widely read in the classics, but he nonetheless embodied Roman virtue, the essence of which is to place the public good above one’s self-interest—patriotism over pride. By so doing, he became an American Cato. Cato was a Roman statesman who opposed Julius Caesar’s bid for power, wound up on the losing side of the ensuing civil war, and died in exile under his own blade rather than submitting to tyranny. He was “upright, honest, patriotic, self-sacrificing, and a bit remote,”—just like Washington.
John Adams was a lifelong admirer of Cicero. Cicero was a Roman lawyer and politician who demonstrated his own virtue by exposing and defeating the Catiline conspiracy, but who was also, like Adams, vain and conservative to a fault. This explains Adams’ support for the Alien and Sedition Acts, and the overall failure of his presidency.
Thomas Jefferson was profoundly influenced by Epicurus: a Greek philosopher who believed that happiness was synonymous with pleasure—the latter defined not as hedonistic debauchery but merely as the absence of pain and confusion—and who was suspected of “disregarding the gods.” Jefferson famously included the protection of the natural right to the “pursuit of happiness” as a fundamental purpose of government; but his Epicurean aversion to discomfort also contributed to his profligacy and hypocrisy.
If you read this book, you will scarcely learn any more about Cato, Cicero, or Epicurus than what you’ve just read over the last three paragraphs. You might learn a bit more about Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, but you won’t be able to trust the information, because much of the research for this book appears to have been phoned in from Professor Google. Here are a couple of examples.
While mentioning the fact that Jefferson, alone among the Founders discussed in the book, never travelled to the frontier, Ricks makes the following assertion:
“[P]erhaps Jefferson was just too much of an Epicurean to want to endure the discomforts of frontier life. As he once wrote in a parting letter to a lover, the beautiful Italian-English artist Maria Cosway: ‘The art of life is the art of avoiding pain.’ That is a recipe for Epicureanism, but it also provides a pathway for emotional withdrawal. Indeed, that letter continued, ‘The most effectual means of being secure against pain is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice for our own happiness.’
“This approach might also have enabled him to justify his failure to examine his own contradictions, if by doing so he would suffer pain or confusion. It might have been too discomforting for him to recognize that as a man, he was forward thinking but not forward acting.”
Now, Jefferson’s letter to Maria Cosway, dated October 12, 1786, is probably his single most famous letter. Anyone researching Jefferson in depth will come across the letter and read it attentively—but not Thomas Ricks, who completely misunderstands it, quoting statements that Jefferson goes on to explicitly reject. The letter takes the form of a playful dialogue between Jefferson’s head and heart. The head wants to isolate itself with theoretical abstractions so that it may avoid the pains of attachment and separation that inevitably accompany social life. The heart rejoins that life would not be worth living without friendship, the joys and benefits of which are well worth the danger of heartbreak.
The head insists that “The art of life is the art of avoiding pain,” and that “The most effectual means of being secure against pain is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice for our own happiness.”
But then comes the heart’s rebuttal:
“In a life where we are perpetually exposed to want and accident, yours is a wonderful proposition, to insulate ourselves, to retire from all aid, and to wrap ourselves in the mantle of self-sufficiency! For assuredly nobody will care for him who cares for nobody. But friendship is precious not only in the shade but in the sunshine of life: and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine. . . . Let the gloomy Monk, sequestered from the world, seek unsocial pleasures in the bottom of his cell! Let the sublimated philosopher grasp visionary happiness while pursuing phantoms dressed in the garb of truth! Their supreme wisdom is supreme folly: and they mistake for happiness the mere absence of pain. Had they ever felt the solid pleasure of one generous spasm of the heart, they would exchange for it all the frigid speculations of their lives, which you have been vaunting in such elevated terms. Believe me then, my friend, that that is a miserable arithmetic which would estimate friendship at nothing, or at less than nothing. . . . We have no rose without it’s thorn; no pleasure without alloy. It is the law of our existence; and we must acquiesce. It is the condition annexed to all our pleasures, not by us who receive, but by him who gives them. True, this condition is pressing cruelly on me at this moment. I feel more fit for death than life. But when I look back on the pleasures of which it is the consequence, I am conscious they were worth the price I am paying.”
The heart wins the argument: Ricks uses Jefferson’s letter to underpin his claim about Jefferson’s aloofness, when in fact Jefferson’s conclusion in the letter is the opposite of what is suggested in the excerpts quoted by Ricks. Given the stature of the letter and the prominence of Ricks’ claims about the negative aspect of Jefferson’s Epicurean influences, this is a pretty big oopsie.
For another example, here is Ricks discussing the controversy over slavery that would eventually lead to the Civil War:
“Continuing and irresolvable conflict over whether slavery would be permitted in the nation’s new lands, the area acquired during Jefferson’s presidency, would spark the bloodiest event in American history, the Civil War.
“John Adams said if it came to a choice, he would favor war. ‘Civil War is preferable to Slavery and I add that foreign War and civil War together at the Same time are preferable to Slavery.’ And in a characteristic lament, he claimed that he had been warning the country for some ‘fifty years’ about the pitfalls it faced, only to be disregarded. ‘If the Nation will not read them or will not understand them, or are determined to misinterpret or misrepresent them, that is not my fault.’ When it came to avoiding blame and dodging responsibility, Adams was nearly as adept as Jefferson.”
Ricks would like you to get the impression that Adams declared a willingness to accept civil war in order to impede the expansion of slavery into new western territories. But if one looks to the sources of the three quotations, it is clear that Adams is doing nothing of the sort. The first quote comes from a letter from Adams to Benjamin Rush dated March 23, 1809. Adams was responding to an earlier letter from Rush, in which the latter mentioned reading Algernon Sidney’s opinion that civil war is preferable to slavery for a nation. Adams was agreeing with Sidney on this point. Neither Adams, nor Rush, nor Sidney were talking about chattel slavery as practiced within the United States; each was referring to the prospective “enslavement” of a nation by foreign or domestic tyranny. It’s as if Ricks simply searched a database for the word “slavery” and then copy-pasted the first pericope he found without bothering to read the whole letter and understand its context.
The second and third quotes come from a letter from Adams to Samuel Perley, dated April 18, 1809. Here Adams is not referring to anything related to slavery, disunion, or the prospect of civil war. He is referring to the “fifty years” he had spent expounding his thoughts on government, and dismissing those who would continue to “misinterpret or misrepresent” his views in light of this long public record:
“That I neither wish for a Monarchy nor a Grecian Democracy nor a Grecian or Roman Aristocracy in these United States is most certain and most evident to this whole Nation if they have ever attended to my words actions or writings for fifty years.—In January 1776 I printed my opinion of a proper form of Goverment under the Title of Thoughts on Goverment in a letter from a Gentleman to his Friend. In 1779 I was a Member of the Convention that formed our Massachusetts Constitution and expressed with great Freedom my Sentiments of Goverment in that Assembly of three or four hundred Gentlemen collected from all parts of the State. Two or three and twenty years ago I published Three Octavo Volumes in Defence of our Massachusetts Constitution with a view to suppress Chaises Rebellion. About Eighteen or Nineteen years ago I published Papers which have been collected in a volume under the Title of Discourses on Davila. In all these writings my opinions upon Government are so clearly expressed that he who runs may read them. If the Nation will not read them or will not understand them, or are determined to misinterpret or misrepresent them, that is not my fault.”
Nothing here about the “pitfalls” the country was facing; still less about the specters of slavery or civil war. Adams was just sick of being misrepresented by his political opponents.
I must also include this little gem, in which Ricks expresses surprise to find that although Jefferson described himself as a republican, he was not fond of the society described in Plato’s Republic:
“Jefferson loved the idea of a ‘republic,’ which he saw as a system in which power was held and exercised by the people. So it is a bit surprising to learn that he despised the most famous book with that word as its title, Plato’s Republic. He considered the great Greek philosopher an obscure mystic.”
One can only chuckle. Has Ricks read Plato’s Republic?—it obviously describes something quite different from the United States, or from any other country that has ever existed. First of all, the Greek title of the Republic is Politeia, which could naturally be translated as “polity”. The term “republic”, in this sense, refers to a state in which the public good prevails over private, arbitrary interests. The opposite of “republic”, in this context, is not “monarchy”, but something more like “tyranny” or even “barbarism”. The redefinition of the word “republic” to refer to a non-monarchical form of government was largely a post-Renaissance development. Nobody who is familiar with both Jefferson and Plato’s Republic would be remotely surprised by the distaste of the former for the latter.
Finally, in the epilogue, for no particular reason at all, Ricks scolds us to reform our campaign finance laws, end gerrymandering, embrace Enlightenment values of reason and open discourse, trust in our institutional checks and balances, embrace a large, robust federal government, and be patient but firm with Trump supporters despite their obvious cultural and intellectual inferiority to people who write poorly-researched, lazy, pompous, dishonest claptrap.
Not only will the reader learn little from this book; if the pedestrian, milquetoast, prefabricated “conclusions” announced by Ricks are any indication, then the author himself appears to have learned little from writing it.
George Washington was not widely read in the classics, but he nonetheless embodied Roman virtue, the essence of which is to place the public good above one’s self-interest—patriotism over pride. By so doing, he became an American Cato. Cato was a Roman statesman who opposed Julius Caesar’s bid for power, wound up on the losing side of the ensuing civil war, and died in exile under his own blade rather than submitting to tyranny. He was “upright, honest, patriotic, self-sacrificing, and a bit remote,”—just like Washington.
John Adams was a lifelong admirer of Cicero. Cicero was a Roman lawyer and politician who demonstrated his own virtue by exposing and defeating the Catiline conspiracy, but who was also, like Adams, vain and conservative to a fault. This explains Adams’ support for the Alien and Sedition Acts, and the overall failure of his presidency.
Thomas Jefferson was profoundly influenced by Epicurus: a Greek philosopher who believed that happiness was synonymous with pleasure—the latter defined not as hedonistic debauchery but merely as the absence of pain and confusion—and who was suspected of “disregarding the gods.” Jefferson famously included the protection of the natural right to the “pursuit of happiness” as a fundamental purpose of government; but his Epicurean aversion to discomfort also contributed to his profligacy and hypocrisy.
If you read this book, you will scarcely learn any more about Cato, Cicero, or Epicurus than what you’ve just read over the last three paragraphs. You might learn a bit more about Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, but you won’t be able to trust the information, because much of the research for this book appears to have been phoned in from Professor Google. Here are a couple of examples.
While mentioning the fact that Jefferson, alone among the Founders discussed in the book, never travelled to the frontier, Ricks makes the following assertion:
“[P]erhaps Jefferson was just too much of an Epicurean to want to endure the discomforts of frontier life. As he once wrote in a parting letter to a lover, the beautiful Italian-English artist Maria Cosway: ‘The art of life is the art of avoiding pain.’ That is a recipe for Epicureanism, but it also provides a pathway for emotional withdrawal. Indeed, that letter continued, ‘The most effectual means of being secure against pain is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice for our own happiness.’
“This approach might also have enabled him to justify his failure to examine his own contradictions, if by doing so he would suffer pain or confusion. It might have been too discomforting for him to recognize that as a man, he was forward thinking but not forward acting.”
Now, Jefferson’s letter to Maria Cosway, dated October 12, 1786, is probably his single most famous letter. Anyone researching Jefferson in depth will come across the letter and read it attentively—but not Thomas Ricks, who completely misunderstands it, quoting statements that Jefferson goes on to explicitly reject. The letter takes the form of a playful dialogue between Jefferson’s head and heart. The head wants to isolate itself with theoretical abstractions so that it may avoid the pains of attachment and separation that inevitably accompany social life. The heart rejoins that life would not be worth living without friendship, the joys and benefits of which are well worth the danger of heartbreak.
The head insists that “The art of life is the art of avoiding pain,” and that “The most effectual means of being secure against pain is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice for our own happiness.”
But then comes the heart’s rebuttal:
“In a life where we are perpetually exposed to want and accident, yours is a wonderful proposition, to insulate ourselves, to retire from all aid, and to wrap ourselves in the mantle of self-sufficiency! For assuredly nobody will care for him who cares for nobody. But friendship is precious not only in the shade but in the sunshine of life: and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine. . . . Let the gloomy Monk, sequestered from the world, seek unsocial pleasures in the bottom of his cell! Let the sublimated philosopher grasp visionary happiness while pursuing phantoms dressed in the garb of truth! Their supreme wisdom is supreme folly: and they mistake for happiness the mere absence of pain. Had they ever felt the solid pleasure of one generous spasm of the heart, they would exchange for it all the frigid speculations of their lives, which you have been vaunting in such elevated terms. Believe me then, my friend, that that is a miserable arithmetic which would estimate friendship at nothing, or at less than nothing. . . . We have no rose without it’s thorn; no pleasure without alloy. It is the law of our existence; and we must acquiesce. It is the condition annexed to all our pleasures, not by us who receive, but by him who gives them. True, this condition is pressing cruelly on me at this moment. I feel more fit for death than life. But when I look back on the pleasures of which it is the consequence, I am conscious they were worth the price I am paying.”
The heart wins the argument: Ricks uses Jefferson’s letter to underpin his claim about Jefferson’s aloofness, when in fact Jefferson’s conclusion in the letter is the opposite of what is suggested in the excerpts quoted by Ricks. Given the stature of the letter and the prominence of Ricks’ claims about the negative aspect of Jefferson’s Epicurean influences, this is a pretty big oopsie.
For another example, here is Ricks discussing the controversy over slavery that would eventually lead to the Civil War:
“Continuing and irresolvable conflict over whether slavery would be permitted in the nation’s new lands, the area acquired during Jefferson’s presidency, would spark the bloodiest event in American history, the Civil War.
“John Adams said if it came to a choice, he would favor war. ‘Civil War is preferable to Slavery and I add that foreign War and civil War together at the Same time are preferable to Slavery.’ And in a characteristic lament, he claimed that he had been warning the country for some ‘fifty years’ about the pitfalls it faced, only to be disregarded. ‘If the Nation will not read them or will not understand them, or are determined to misinterpret or misrepresent them, that is not my fault.’ When it came to avoiding blame and dodging responsibility, Adams was nearly as adept as Jefferson.”
Ricks would like you to get the impression that Adams declared a willingness to accept civil war in order to impede the expansion of slavery into new western territories. But if one looks to the sources of the three quotations, it is clear that Adams is doing nothing of the sort. The first quote comes from a letter from Adams to Benjamin Rush dated March 23, 1809. Adams was responding to an earlier letter from Rush, in which the latter mentioned reading Algernon Sidney’s opinion that civil war is preferable to slavery for a nation. Adams was agreeing with Sidney on this point. Neither Adams, nor Rush, nor Sidney were talking about chattel slavery as practiced within the United States; each was referring to the prospective “enslavement” of a nation by foreign or domestic tyranny. It’s as if Ricks simply searched a database for the word “slavery” and then copy-pasted the first pericope he found without bothering to read the whole letter and understand its context.
The second and third quotes come from a letter from Adams to Samuel Perley, dated April 18, 1809. Here Adams is not referring to anything related to slavery, disunion, or the prospect of civil war. He is referring to the “fifty years” he had spent expounding his thoughts on government, and dismissing those who would continue to “misinterpret or misrepresent” his views in light of this long public record:
“That I neither wish for a Monarchy nor a Grecian Democracy nor a Grecian or Roman Aristocracy in these United States is most certain and most evident to this whole Nation if they have ever attended to my words actions or writings for fifty years.—In January 1776 I printed my opinion of a proper form of Goverment under the Title of Thoughts on Goverment in a letter from a Gentleman to his Friend. In 1779 I was a Member of the Convention that formed our Massachusetts Constitution and expressed with great Freedom my Sentiments of Goverment in that Assembly of three or four hundred Gentlemen collected from all parts of the State. Two or three and twenty years ago I published Three Octavo Volumes in Defence of our Massachusetts Constitution with a view to suppress Chaises Rebellion. About Eighteen or Nineteen years ago I published Papers which have been collected in a volume under the Title of Discourses on Davila. In all these writings my opinions upon Government are so clearly expressed that he who runs may read them. If the Nation will not read them or will not understand them, or are determined to misinterpret or misrepresent them, that is not my fault.”
Nothing here about the “pitfalls” the country was facing; still less about the specters of slavery or civil war. Adams was just sick of being misrepresented by his political opponents.
I must also include this little gem, in which Ricks expresses surprise to find that although Jefferson described himself as a republican, he was not fond of the society described in Plato’s Republic:
“Jefferson loved the idea of a ‘republic,’ which he saw as a system in which power was held and exercised by the people. So it is a bit surprising to learn that he despised the most famous book with that word as its title, Plato’s Republic. He considered the great Greek philosopher an obscure mystic.”
One can only chuckle. Has Ricks read Plato’s Republic?—it obviously describes something quite different from the United States, or from any other country that has ever existed. First of all, the Greek title of the Republic is Politeia, which could naturally be translated as “polity”. The term “republic”, in this sense, refers to a state in which the public good prevails over private, arbitrary interests. The opposite of “republic”, in this context, is not “monarchy”, but something more like “tyranny” or even “barbarism”. The redefinition of the word “republic” to refer to a non-monarchical form of government was largely a post-Renaissance development. Nobody who is familiar with both Jefferson and Plato’s Republic would be remotely surprised by the distaste of the former for the latter.
Finally, in the epilogue, for no particular reason at all, Ricks scolds us to reform our campaign finance laws, end gerrymandering, embrace Enlightenment values of reason and open discourse, trust in our institutional checks and balances, embrace a large, robust federal government, and be patient but firm with Trump supporters despite their obvious cultural and intellectual inferiority to people who write poorly-researched, lazy, pompous, dishonest claptrap.
Not only will the reader learn little from this book; if the pedestrian, milquetoast, prefabricated “conclusions” announced by Ricks are any indication, then the author himself appears to have learned little from writing it.
December 26, 2020
Thomas Ricks' thoughtful and well-crafted First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country demonstrates the sweeping influence of classical thinking on our Founding Fathers. Greek and Roman philosophers, historians, and civic heroes exemplified the principles upon which the American republic was based. This influence survived until the late 1790s when the advent of the vigorous give and take of competing interests took over (“faction,” as it was known then). Party politics – and the end of public virtue as it was known in the 18th century -- carried forward into the early 19th century when industrialization and commercialization finally subdued the power of classicism.
In his epilogue, Ricks cites ten steps that could be undertaken to realign America with the goals of our Founders. Three among them struck home with me:
1. “Wake Up Congress” – The branch of the federal government that has failed most in recent years has been Congress. Two of its major functions are to be the voice of popular will and to act as a check on the executive. Congress has been unwilling to perform these functions. Ricks wrote:
I don't believe the Founders anticipated the creation of a permanent class of careerist office-holders whose primary objective it to maintain their grip on elective seats at any cost -- irrespective of the public good. It's difficult to keep an eye on the public interest when one is always on the next election and the other is on the lookout for donors. There are no eyes left for the good of the people.
2. Curtail the influence of money in politics. Ricks supports:
Too many acts of our government, particularly those of Congress, are bought and sold like the shoddiest of Walmart merchandise.
3. “Know Your History” – I am astounded at the lack of understanding of how we reached our current state as a nation. Many who should know better don't. The death of education in civics is part of the problem. You can't appreciate the present situation if you don't understand how the system works (or doesn't work). As for our history, you can't know where you are if you don't know where you've been.
First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country is the right book for our times. It's thought-provoking and deserves to be read widely. It earned a solid Four Star place in my library
In his epilogue, Ricks cites ten steps that could be undertaken to realign America with the goals of our Founders. Three among them struck home with me:
1. “Wake Up Congress” – The branch of the federal government that has failed most in recent years has been Congress. Two of its major functions are to be the voice of popular will and to act as a check on the executive. Congress has been unwilling to perform these functions. Ricks wrote:
The framers of the Constitution probably would be surprised and chagrined by the passivity of Congress in recent decades, and especially its failure to assert firmly its role as a co-equal branch of government with the executive. They intended Congress to be active, expecting it to be the most energetic branch of federal government... One of the hallmarks of oligarchy is a legislature that is elected but tame, just active enough to divide and weaken the democratic spirit.
I don't believe the Founders anticipated the creation of a permanent class of careerist office-holders whose primary objective it to maintain their grip on elective seats at any cost -- irrespective of the public good. It's difficult to keep an eye on the public interest when one is always on the next election and the other is on the lookout for donors. There are no eyes left for the good of the people.
2. Curtail the influence of money in politics. Ricks supports:
We should drop the bizarre American legal fiction that corporations are people, enjoying all the rights of citizens, including unfettered campaign donations as a form of free speech... (T)he founders would have considered corporate campaign spending the essence of political corruption.
Too many acts of our government, particularly those of Congress, are bought and sold like the shoddiest of Walmart merchandise.
3. “Know Your History” – I am astounded at the lack of understanding of how we reached our current state as a nation. Many who should know better don't. The death of education in civics is part of the problem. You can't appreciate the present situation if you don't understand how the system works (or doesn't work). As for our history, you can't know where you are if you don't know where you've been.
First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country is the right book for our times. It's thought-provoking and deserves to be read widely. It earned a solid Four Star place in my library
September 23, 2023
First Principles For Independence Day
Every Fourth of July, I try to review a book that celebrates the themes of the day. This year, the choice is Pulitzer Prize winning author Thomas Ricks' acclaimed book, "First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How that Shaped our Country". (2020) The book discusses the Declaration of Independence at some length and even includes the full text as an Appendix. It is difficult to imagine a work more suitable for Independence Day.
Ricks states that he received the idea for his book following the presidential election of 2016 when he felt the need to reconsider what the United States was about. He began with a reading of Aristotle's "Politics" followed by the Declaration of Independence and other formative American documents. He gradually decided to focus on how the Founders were educated and the books that they read. He concluded that the works of the Ancient Greeks and Romans were more influential on the Founders that the work of John Locke, for example, who is commonly thought a crucial influence. Thus, Ricks' book traces the influence of the Greeks and Romans on the first four presidents, George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison and explores what this influence teaches about the founding of our country and what may be learned today from the Revolutionary generation's encounter with the classical world.
The book covers a great deal of material in a brief scope. It begins with young George Washington's experiences in the early stages of the French-Indian War, covers the following rift with Britain which led to the Declaration of Independence and the Revolutionary War, and takes the reader through the Articles of Confederation and the subsequent Constituional Convention. Ricks discusses the administrations of each of the first four presidents and explores the decline of the classical influence and the rise of parties and interest-based politics. The book concludes with Ricks' thoughts on what Americans today may learn from this history.
For Ricks, the Roman influence on the Founders predominated over the Greeks, with the exception
of Thomas Jefferson and it centered on the concept of virtue. For the Founders, as for the Romans, virtue meant putting aside one's private interest in an effort to act for the common good. The concept of virtue derived from the years of the Roman Republic and from the classical figures who sought to preserve it. His book traces the influence of the Romans on Greeks on the different Founders at different stages of their lives. Washington, the only one of the first four presidents who lacked a college education, showed in his life and actions the greatest bearing of a classical Roman. In Ricks' account, as in the accounts of many historians, Washington is the indespensable and the greatest of the Founders. The second key Founder was James Madison with his devotion to learning and to constitutionalism. Madison was able to see as well, the limitations of the Roman model and to make changes for the new American republic. While recognizing their importance, Ricks tends to be less favorably disposed to John Adams, in particular, and to Jefferson.
With respect to the Declaration of Independence, Ricks discusses who Jefferson tried to write a document understandable and inspiring to the many people who lacked a strong formal education. The Declaration was influenced by Thomas Paine's pamphlet "Common Sense" and, according to Ricks, by the philosophy of Epicurus more than by John Locke. Although I learned from Ricks' account, I was not fully convinced.
Ricks praises the Founders for their study of classicism and of virtue. He properly finds classical republicanism had its strong limitations in that it put aside the force of personal self-interest and the power of politics. Most importantly, classical republicamism accepted the existence of slavery which, Ricks concludes, "would prove disastrous to the nation they designed". They "sustained a system that was deeply inhumane and rested on a foundation of sexual and physical abuse, including torture."
I found "First Principles" an inspiring book for Independence Day. I enjoyed Ricks' writing and I especially enjoyed revisiting the Founders and their efforts. Ricks book shows how much still may be learned from a study of America's early history, through both its great achievements and its large shortcomings.
In the Epilogue to his book, Ricks draws ten lessons from his history for today's Americans. The ten seem to me of varying merit but several are highly insightful. Ricks counsels Americans to remember that we are not the first to face difficult times and unenlightened leadership. He also advises Americans, wisely, to "know your history" and to study. With specific reference to the Declaration of Independence, Ricks advises his readers to "Rehabilitate 'happiness'". His discussion is worth quoting.
"Today many Americans tend to think of 'happiness' mainly in terms of pleasure-seeking, usually in physical form -- sex, food, alcohol, sports, and video games that excite the senses. But by focusing on feeding the flesh we risk starving the mind and spirit. We need to appreciate the Enlightenment's broader, richer notion of happiness and make it again about finding one's place in the world, enjoying what we have and what we see in it, and appreciating the beauty of the Earth during our short time on it. None of that prescription would be a surprise to Jefferson. We should remember that as he laid out his path to happiness, the fourth of the Epicurean ideals he listed was 'justice'."
"First Principles" is a worthy book for Americans to read to think again about our history and its significance.
Robin Friedman
Every Fourth of July, I try to review a book that celebrates the themes of the day. This year, the choice is Pulitzer Prize winning author Thomas Ricks' acclaimed book, "First Principles: What America's Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How that Shaped our Country". (2020) The book discusses the Declaration of Independence at some length and even includes the full text as an Appendix. It is difficult to imagine a work more suitable for Independence Day.
Ricks states that he received the idea for his book following the presidential election of 2016 when he felt the need to reconsider what the United States was about. He began with a reading of Aristotle's "Politics" followed by the Declaration of Independence and other formative American documents. He gradually decided to focus on how the Founders were educated and the books that they read. He concluded that the works of the Ancient Greeks and Romans were more influential on the Founders that the work of John Locke, for example, who is commonly thought a crucial influence. Thus, Ricks' book traces the influence of the Greeks and Romans on the first four presidents, George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison and explores what this influence teaches about the founding of our country and what may be learned today from the Revolutionary generation's encounter with the classical world.
The book covers a great deal of material in a brief scope. It begins with young George Washington's experiences in the early stages of the French-Indian War, covers the following rift with Britain which led to the Declaration of Independence and the Revolutionary War, and takes the reader through the Articles of Confederation and the subsequent Constituional Convention. Ricks discusses the administrations of each of the first four presidents and explores the decline of the classical influence and the rise of parties and interest-based politics. The book concludes with Ricks' thoughts on what Americans today may learn from this history.
For Ricks, the Roman influence on the Founders predominated over the Greeks, with the exception
of Thomas Jefferson and it centered on the concept of virtue. For the Founders, as for the Romans, virtue meant putting aside one's private interest in an effort to act for the common good. The concept of virtue derived from the years of the Roman Republic and from the classical figures who sought to preserve it. His book traces the influence of the Romans on Greeks on the different Founders at different stages of their lives. Washington, the only one of the first four presidents who lacked a college education, showed in his life and actions the greatest bearing of a classical Roman. In Ricks' account, as in the accounts of many historians, Washington is the indespensable and the greatest of the Founders. The second key Founder was James Madison with his devotion to learning and to constitutionalism. Madison was able to see as well, the limitations of the Roman model and to make changes for the new American republic. While recognizing their importance, Ricks tends to be less favorably disposed to John Adams, in particular, and to Jefferson.
With respect to the Declaration of Independence, Ricks discusses who Jefferson tried to write a document understandable and inspiring to the many people who lacked a strong formal education. The Declaration was influenced by Thomas Paine's pamphlet "Common Sense" and, according to Ricks, by the philosophy of Epicurus more than by John Locke. Although I learned from Ricks' account, I was not fully convinced.
Ricks praises the Founders for their study of classicism and of virtue. He properly finds classical republicanism had its strong limitations in that it put aside the force of personal self-interest and the power of politics. Most importantly, classical republicamism accepted the existence of slavery which, Ricks concludes, "would prove disastrous to the nation they designed". They "sustained a system that was deeply inhumane and rested on a foundation of sexual and physical abuse, including torture."
I found "First Principles" an inspiring book for Independence Day. I enjoyed Ricks' writing and I especially enjoyed revisiting the Founders and their efforts. Ricks book shows how much still may be learned from a study of America's early history, through both its great achievements and its large shortcomings.
In the Epilogue to his book, Ricks draws ten lessons from his history for today's Americans. The ten seem to me of varying merit but several are highly insightful. Ricks counsels Americans to remember that we are not the first to face difficult times and unenlightened leadership. He also advises Americans, wisely, to "know your history" and to study. With specific reference to the Declaration of Independence, Ricks advises his readers to "Rehabilitate 'happiness'". His discussion is worth quoting.
"Today many Americans tend to think of 'happiness' mainly in terms of pleasure-seeking, usually in physical form -- sex, food, alcohol, sports, and video games that excite the senses. But by focusing on feeding the flesh we risk starving the mind and spirit. We need to appreciate the Enlightenment's broader, richer notion of happiness and make it again about finding one's place in the world, enjoying what we have and what we see in it, and appreciating the beauty of the Earth during our short time on it. None of that prescription would be a surprise to Jefferson. We should remember that as he laid out his path to happiness, the fourth of the Epicurean ideals he listed was 'justice'."
"First Principles" is a worthy book for Americans to read to think again about our history and its significance.
Robin Friedman
January 25, 2023
There is an oft repeated story about Ben Franklin which might be true (historians are undecided) that as he was walking out the Constitutional Convention one day in 1787 he was asked whether the country’s new government would be a republic or a monarchy, and he replied, “A republic, if you can keep it.”
That story does not appear in First Principles, but the animating sensibility behind it permeates the book. Winning the war against England was hard, but creating a stable government across thirteen very diverse states, which did not think of themselves as a unified people, was going to be just as challenging.
By 1787 it was clear that unless the Constitutional Convention could come up with a set of workable compromises, the new country was doomed. The authors were well versed in history, and knew what had happened to Ancient Greece: the city states, fiercely independent and often hostile to one another, could never unite into a stable entity large enough to protect them all. All of the different leagues and confederations eventually collapsed due to jealousy, incompetence, or military defeat. It was inevitable that some of cities would turn to Rome for help, and once the Romans saw the riches to be won they turned from allies to conquerors, and Greece became a province to be plundered.
The same would have happened to the nominally “united” States, which were already bickering over taxes and trade, and deeply divided over slavery. Sooner or later one of them would have invited the assistance of England, France, or Spain, and all of them would become pawns in Europe’s game of thrones. Jefferson saw this clearly, and wrote that, if the Articles of Confederation were not replaced, “it could not but occur to every one that these separate independencies, like the petty states of Greece, would be eternally at war with each other, & would become at length the mere partisans & satellites of the leading powers of Europe.” (p. 203)
This book’s focus is on the first four presidents: Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison, and how their Enlightenment educations informed their understanding of history, government, and human nature. Of the four, Jefferson was the only one to rely mainly on Ancient Greece; the others had all been deeply influenced by Roman historians and Stoic philosophy.
One of the attributes of the ancients which educated men of the eighteenth century cherished was the idea of virtue. In our times the word refers to things like virginity, but its ancient meaning was a powerful guide to the behavior expected of gentleman: it meant they were to act in such a way that would place the good of the state over personal gain. George Washington was the very embodiment of virtue in this sense, and his commitment to duty was the guiding force behind his military and political career.
In Washington’s farewell address his warned against parties and factions, because he believed that the nation’s leaders needed to be men who would always put principles ahead of private interest, but that idea was already passing. The emerging political sentiment was that self-interest was good, and that political parties could be forces for change while maintaining stability so long as they were opposed by other, equally strong parties whose cooperation they depended upon.
This idea mostly worked for the United States’ first two centuries, but it does not work today, when partisanship has turned the parties into warring camps, and any compromise is seen as humiliation and defeat. It also does not work, and cannot work, when parties are led by unprincipled people whose only interest is power and self-aggrandizement. This is clear today but became apparent very early in the country’s history, when Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr tied in Electoral College votes in the election of 1800. The deadlock held through thirty-five ballots, but finally one of Burr’s delegates was convinced to switch to Jefferson, who was then elected.
Burr prefigured the populist politicians of our times. “Jefferson would not act merely to benefit himself. Burr, by contrast, [Alexander] Hamilton wrote, was ‘a man of extreme & irregular ambition – that he is selfish to a degree with excludes all social affections & that he is decidedly profligate...a man who on all hands is acknowledged to be a complete Cataline in his practice & principles.’ ” (p. 259) Defeated in his quest to be President, Burr went on to kill Hamilton in a duel, then engage in plots to carve up parts of the country and set himself up as king. Six years after he came within one vote of becoming President of the United States he was on trial for treason.
The book starts with biographies of each of its principle characters, then shows them in war and peace as they tried to form a new country. There is a reminder that the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, 1776 was not a celebration, but a grim and sober affair. The signers pledged to each other “our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor,” understanding that they were about to go to war with the most powerful nation on earth, and that failure would mean being hanged for treason.
The section on Washington’s evolution as a general is excellent, and reminds the reader that his battlefield record was abysmal, defeated time after time when he stood and fought. After a crushing defeat around New York City in the fall of 1776, his army was reduced to about 4,000 men. If British General Howe had simply pursued him the revolution would have ended: Washington’s army would have been annihilated if they fought, and would have melted away if pushed into the forests and deprived of supplies. Instead, Howe dallied with his mistress and lost time until it was too late in the year to campaign. Washington, meanwhile, trained his troops, crossed the Delaware, and won a victory over Britain’s Hessian mercenaries in the Battle of Trenton on December 26, which gave renewed hope to the colonies and increased recruitment. The next year victory at the Battle of Saratoga would convince France to join the war in support of the Americans.
Washington was not a great general, but he was a great learner, and he learned the right lesson, which was to adopt a Fabian delaying strategy, refusing direct combat unless the situation was overwhelmingly favorable. Instead, he continually harried the British army, ambushing foraging parties and cutting their supply lines. He knew that so long as there was an American army, there was a revolution, and as it dragged on year after year with no end in sight, the cost and frustration would cause Parliament to question whether the colonies were still worth fighting for. Once the French army and navy arrived in force, and General Cornwallis was trapped at Yorktown, all that remained was to throw in the towel and negotiate an exit.
The Articles of Confederation are derided today for their weakness, but they served their purpose by holding the country together long enough for the states to realize that something better was needed. But what? The lessons of history were not encouraging: most republics did not last long. James Madison had spent several years studying this question, asking “What had brought down ancient republics? What made them so fragile? Were there gaps between their theory and practice? Did they have inherent flaws that caused them to fail? Were these avoidable? Was Montesquieu correct in thinking that republics had to be small?” (p. 197)
The result was the Constitution of 1787, which is still the law of the land. It was a series of compromises: of large states with small ones, or direct versus indirect election, of a presidency as single person or a committee, and, of course, of slave versus free. Carl Van Doren’s 1948 book The Great Rehearsal is still one of the best sources for information about the deal-making done as the Constitution was hammered out, and reading it gave me a new appreciation for the constraints the convention delegates were under.
It has always been shameful that the declaration that all men are created equal was made by slaveholders who were determined that “all men” would not in fact be all men, or any women. The slaveholders made this declaration because to them, being fully human meant being white and male.
And yet, as The Great Rehearsal makes clear, there was no way to avoid accommodating the slave states, which insisted that they would not be part of the new United States if any restrictions were placed on their right to own human beings. The final constitution forged a new nation, but took the Civil War to finally resolve the question of slavery, and the baleful effects of that war, the hatreds and resentments it engendered, are still with us today.
On the dollar bill is the Great Seal of the United States, that weird pyramid-thing with the eyeball. The motto of the Great Seal is novus ordo seclorum, “A new order for the ages.” This is what the United States represented, but it did not arise spontaneously. It was the work of educated, dedicated men who had studied the lessons of history and thought deeply about how a democracy should be structured to balance freedom with justice. The nation they created has survived for 250 years, but it now faces an uncertain future. It is often said that democracy contains the seeds of its own destruction, and those seeds may be bearing fruit.
That story does not appear in First Principles, but the animating sensibility behind it permeates the book. Winning the war against England was hard, but creating a stable government across thirteen very diverse states, which did not think of themselves as a unified people, was going to be just as challenging.
By 1787 it was clear that unless the Constitutional Convention could come up with a set of workable compromises, the new country was doomed. The authors were well versed in history, and knew what had happened to Ancient Greece: the city states, fiercely independent and often hostile to one another, could never unite into a stable entity large enough to protect them all. All of the different leagues and confederations eventually collapsed due to jealousy, incompetence, or military defeat. It was inevitable that some of cities would turn to Rome for help, and once the Romans saw the riches to be won they turned from allies to conquerors, and Greece became a province to be plundered.
The same would have happened to the nominally “united” States, which were already bickering over taxes and trade, and deeply divided over slavery. Sooner or later one of them would have invited the assistance of England, France, or Spain, and all of them would become pawns in Europe’s game of thrones. Jefferson saw this clearly, and wrote that, if the Articles of Confederation were not replaced, “it could not but occur to every one that these separate independencies, like the petty states of Greece, would be eternally at war with each other, & would become at length the mere partisans & satellites of the leading powers of Europe.” (p. 203)
This book’s focus is on the first four presidents: Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison, and how their Enlightenment educations informed their understanding of history, government, and human nature. Of the four, Jefferson was the only one to rely mainly on Ancient Greece; the others had all been deeply influenced by Roman historians and Stoic philosophy.
One of the attributes of the ancients which educated men of the eighteenth century cherished was the idea of virtue. In our times the word refers to things like virginity, but its ancient meaning was a powerful guide to the behavior expected of gentleman: it meant they were to act in such a way that would place the good of the state over personal gain. George Washington was the very embodiment of virtue in this sense, and his commitment to duty was the guiding force behind his military and political career.
In Washington’s farewell address his warned against parties and factions, because he believed that the nation’s leaders needed to be men who would always put principles ahead of private interest, but that idea was already passing. The emerging political sentiment was that self-interest was good, and that political parties could be forces for change while maintaining stability so long as they were opposed by other, equally strong parties whose cooperation they depended upon.
This idea mostly worked for the United States’ first two centuries, but it does not work today, when partisanship has turned the parties into warring camps, and any compromise is seen as humiliation and defeat. It also does not work, and cannot work, when parties are led by unprincipled people whose only interest is power and self-aggrandizement. This is clear today but became apparent very early in the country’s history, when Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr tied in Electoral College votes in the election of 1800. The deadlock held through thirty-five ballots, but finally one of Burr’s delegates was convinced to switch to Jefferson, who was then elected.
Burr prefigured the populist politicians of our times. “Jefferson would not act merely to benefit himself. Burr, by contrast, [Alexander] Hamilton wrote, was ‘a man of extreme & irregular ambition – that he is selfish to a degree with excludes all social affections & that he is decidedly profligate...a man who on all hands is acknowledged to be a complete Cataline in his practice & principles.’ ” (p. 259) Defeated in his quest to be President, Burr went on to kill Hamilton in a duel, then engage in plots to carve up parts of the country and set himself up as king. Six years after he came within one vote of becoming President of the United States he was on trial for treason.
The book starts with biographies of each of its principle characters, then shows them in war and peace as they tried to form a new country. There is a reminder that the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, 1776 was not a celebration, but a grim and sober affair. The signers pledged to each other “our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor,” understanding that they were about to go to war with the most powerful nation on earth, and that failure would mean being hanged for treason.
The section on Washington’s evolution as a general is excellent, and reminds the reader that his battlefield record was abysmal, defeated time after time when he stood and fought. After a crushing defeat around New York City in the fall of 1776, his army was reduced to about 4,000 men. If British General Howe had simply pursued him the revolution would have ended: Washington’s army would have been annihilated if they fought, and would have melted away if pushed into the forests and deprived of supplies. Instead, Howe dallied with his mistress and lost time until it was too late in the year to campaign. Washington, meanwhile, trained his troops, crossed the Delaware, and won a victory over Britain’s Hessian mercenaries in the Battle of Trenton on December 26, which gave renewed hope to the colonies and increased recruitment. The next year victory at the Battle of Saratoga would convince France to join the war in support of the Americans.
Washington was not a great general, but he was a great learner, and he learned the right lesson, which was to adopt a Fabian delaying strategy, refusing direct combat unless the situation was overwhelmingly favorable. Instead, he continually harried the British army, ambushing foraging parties and cutting their supply lines. He knew that so long as there was an American army, there was a revolution, and as it dragged on year after year with no end in sight, the cost and frustration would cause Parliament to question whether the colonies were still worth fighting for. Once the French army and navy arrived in force, and General Cornwallis was trapped at Yorktown, all that remained was to throw in the towel and negotiate an exit.
The Articles of Confederation are derided today for their weakness, but they served their purpose by holding the country together long enough for the states to realize that something better was needed. But what? The lessons of history were not encouraging: most republics did not last long. James Madison had spent several years studying this question, asking “What had brought down ancient republics? What made them so fragile? Were there gaps between their theory and practice? Did they have inherent flaws that caused them to fail? Were these avoidable? Was Montesquieu correct in thinking that republics had to be small?” (p. 197)
The result was the Constitution of 1787, which is still the law of the land. It was a series of compromises: of large states with small ones, or direct versus indirect election, of a presidency as single person or a committee, and, of course, of slave versus free. Carl Van Doren’s 1948 book The Great Rehearsal is still one of the best sources for information about the deal-making done as the Constitution was hammered out, and reading it gave me a new appreciation for the constraints the convention delegates were under.
It has always been shameful that the declaration that all men are created equal was made by slaveholders who were determined that “all men” would not in fact be all men, or any women. The slaveholders made this declaration because to them, being fully human meant being white and male.
And yet, as The Great Rehearsal makes clear, there was no way to avoid accommodating the slave states, which insisted that they would not be part of the new United States if any restrictions were placed on their right to own human beings. The final constitution forged a new nation, but took the Civil War to finally resolve the question of slavery, and the baleful effects of that war, the hatreds and resentments it engendered, are still with us today.
On the dollar bill is the Great Seal of the United States, that weird pyramid-thing with the eyeball. The motto of the Great Seal is novus ordo seclorum, “A new order for the ages.” This is what the United States represented, but it did not arise spontaneously. It was the work of educated, dedicated men who had studied the lessons of history and thought deeply about how a democracy should be structured to balance freedom with justice. The nation they created has survived for 250 years, but it now faces an uncertain future. It is often said that democracy contains the seeds of its own destruction, and those seeds may be bearing fruit.
November 11, 2020
First Principles by Thomas Ricks
1. The book’s main theme is how the founding fathers acquired, and applied the knowledge of the 1000 year ancient Greek and Roman governments and it’s heroes.
2. Unlike other biographical books this author is trying to find the books the founders read and how it impacted their thinking and actions.
3. Washington: Washington is not known as a scholar and didn’t have a college degree. He is known as someone who acts rather than thinks. Adams and others criticized Washington as not well read for his station in life. A) Washington’s favorite Roman was Cato (Stoic) and even had his play in Valley Forge. B) Washinton took time to come to terms that he cannot fight an offensive war against the British if he wants to win. So, chose the Fabian Strategy. The strategy is named after Roman Fabius who fought a defensive war of attack and run against brilliant Carthagian military general. C) Washington also followed the Roman general Cincinnatus as a role model to give up power and going back to be a normal citizen.
4. Adams: Adams was a Harvard graduate and lived with books. For him books are the means to achieve power, purpose and upward mobility in life. For Adams Roman Cicero is his role model. Following his role model he become a lawyer and worked on his “virtues.” Virtues at that time is about doing what benefits “common good” compared to personal benefit. Adams brought the revolutionary spirit to the continental congress to win Independence. The only founder who didn’t own slaves. It reminds me of the quote by Samuel Johnson: "Why Do We Hear the Loudest Yelps for Liberty from the Masters Drivers of Negroes?"
5. Jefferson: Jefferson went to William and Mary College but tutors were from Scotland. Scotland had great literacy rate even in 17th century it was about 75%. Ships coming from Scotland brought tutors to Chesapeake. We know the ideas of Jefferson from Locke (Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness) in Declaration of Independence. But also the idea of the government govern based on the consent of the governed is a Scottish idea. Jefferson for all his curiosity never went west. He gravitated towards Europe and had books mostly in different languages. When he gave his library to congress, 90% of congressmen couldn’t read his books in different languages.
6. Madison: Madison went to Princeton. Compared to other schools Harvard, Yale, etc. Princeton was a national school. All other were more regional. So, Madison was able to think nationally amidst the 13 different colonies. Jefferson sent him trunk load of 200 plus books and permitted him to study in his library. Madison idea of checks and balances was from “Spirit of Laws” written by French philosopher Montesquieu who was a constitutionalist and acted as a bridge between ancient world and classical American world. Madison used Montesquieu idea to create the system where ambition is checked by ambition. Not only checks and balances between the branches but also between political factions (political parties).
1. The book’s main theme is how the founding fathers acquired, and applied the knowledge of the 1000 year ancient Greek and Roman governments and it’s heroes.
2. Unlike other biographical books this author is trying to find the books the founders read and how it impacted their thinking and actions.
3. Washington: Washington is not known as a scholar and didn’t have a college degree. He is known as someone who acts rather than thinks. Adams and others criticized Washington as not well read for his station in life. A) Washington’s favorite Roman was Cato (Stoic) and even had his play in Valley Forge. B) Washinton took time to come to terms that he cannot fight an offensive war against the British if he wants to win. So, chose the Fabian Strategy. The strategy is named after Roman Fabius who fought a defensive war of attack and run against brilliant Carthagian military general. C) Washington also followed the Roman general Cincinnatus as a role model to give up power and going back to be a normal citizen.
4. Adams: Adams was a Harvard graduate and lived with books. For him books are the means to achieve power, purpose and upward mobility in life. For Adams Roman Cicero is his role model. Following his role model he become a lawyer and worked on his “virtues.” Virtues at that time is about doing what benefits “common good” compared to personal benefit. Adams brought the revolutionary spirit to the continental congress to win Independence. The only founder who didn’t own slaves. It reminds me of the quote by Samuel Johnson: "Why Do We Hear the Loudest Yelps for Liberty from the Masters Drivers of Negroes?"
5. Jefferson: Jefferson went to William and Mary College but tutors were from Scotland. Scotland had great literacy rate even in 17th century it was about 75%. Ships coming from Scotland brought tutors to Chesapeake. We know the ideas of Jefferson from Locke (Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness) in Declaration of Independence. But also the idea of the government govern based on the consent of the governed is a Scottish idea. Jefferson for all his curiosity never went west. He gravitated towards Europe and had books mostly in different languages. When he gave his library to congress, 90% of congressmen couldn’t read his books in different languages.
6. Madison: Madison went to Princeton. Compared to other schools Harvard, Yale, etc. Princeton was a national school. All other were more regional. So, Madison was able to think nationally amidst the 13 different colonies. Jefferson sent him trunk load of 200 plus books and permitted him to study in his library. Madison idea of checks and balances was from “Spirit of Laws” written by French philosopher Montesquieu who was a constitutionalist and acted as a bridge between ancient world and classical American world. Madison used Montesquieu idea to create the system where ambition is checked by ambition. Not only checks and balances between the branches but also between political factions (political parties).
July 31, 2021
A fascinating book, holding my attention and interest intensely. Every page has a lesson and analysis revealing a truth in the value of studying history. Every public official, especially those in the Federal government, should read, at least, the epilogue.
The historical facts will be known to any modest student of American history. The angle of the import of the Roman and Greek classics with prominent founders (primarily our first four presidents), the formal education system during the founding time (and now) and the "people" generally, is elucidating , entertaining, and impressive as a means to use history to guide current thoughts. This book was an inspired historical effort, well written and thoughtfully presented. Reading it will improve anyone's thoughts about governance. It is obviously edited to be short enough, concise, to appeal to average citizens.
I am woefully unaware of most of the classics the author discussed, though he did a good job discussing enough to provide good context and make his analysis meaningful for this modern American. I found myself doing a great deal of internet reading on many of the topics mentioned, including re-reading many of the Federalist Papers. The analysis inspires further inquiry.
The historical facts will be known to any modest student of American history. The angle of the import of the Roman and Greek classics with prominent founders (primarily our first four presidents), the formal education system during the founding time (and now) and the "people" generally, is elucidating , entertaining, and impressive as a means to use history to guide current thoughts. This book was an inspired historical effort, well written and thoughtfully presented. Reading it will improve anyone's thoughts about governance. It is obviously edited to be short enough, concise, to appeal to average citizens.
I am woefully unaware of most of the classics the author discussed, though he did a good job discussing enough to provide good context and make his analysis meaningful for this modern American. I found myself doing a great deal of internet reading on many of the topics mentioned, including re-reading many of the Federalist Papers. The analysis inspires further inquiry.
December 14, 2020
It was alright. His personal political rants detracted from his stated thesis. Who cares what you think about our current politics Mr Ricks. I just want to learn about what your title stated your book would be about.
August 29, 2021
I learned a number of interesting things about the founding fathers, so this was not a complete waste of time, but as several other reviewers have noted, the author 1.) mostly fails to deliver on his title and 2.) forces the entire narrative through a progressivist revisionism.
This latter point becomes almost unbearable in the second half of the work. I should not have been surprised given the clearly biased, and frankly, irresponsible claims made in the prologue. Here the author asserts his feelings and makes some very broad assumptions about the 2016 election without carefully considering the deeper underlying causes for its outcome, as one might expect from a serious scholar of political history. He next asserts, without giving any evidence, that one party in America countenances "white supremacy." This is just lazy and disingenuous. Alas, all too predictable condescension and ignorant disdain from the Ivy League "cognoscenti." This should have been a red flag, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and pressed on anyway.
The writing is passable and somewhat engaging in places, and I learned a few things I did not know about the founders, but the author does not really seem to possess deep knowledge of the classics and he never quite delivers on the title of the book. He is mostly just retelling the story of the nascent stages of our country, and then peppering in references the founders made to classical authors. The main lines of the story are accurate, even inspiring in places, and it was nice to review again. However, with the exception of his analysis of Madison and the Athenian league, he does not really show how the Ancients affected the founders thinking with any serious depth. Washington was like a noble Roman (who didn't already know of the comparisons with Cincinnatus?), Adams liked Cicero, Jefferson preferred the Greek temperament, etc., and then he frequently makes loose connections like, "such and such a book was on his shelf, so he may have read it." This was disappointing and I expected a bit more based on the title and description of the work.
Of course, everyone writes from their own perspective—and despite what some may claim—it is not really possible to avoid prejudice entirely. I would argue that this isn’t even desirable. However, the author so blatantly attempts to mold the narrative in favor of the modern perspective, that he is unable to give a careful and balanced view of the founders.
Again, with the exception of Madison--and Washington to some degree, since he was so remarkably virtuous it is almost impossible for anyone to honestly disparage him—the author dwells so much and so frequently on the founders failures, shortcomings, insecurities, and mutual infighting, that one is generally left with the impression that they were mostly a bunch of brash, arrogant, hypocrites. He also somehow manages to work the problem of slavery into nearly every chapter and then concludes the whole work with this issue as the overarching criteria of judgment on the founders and the early history of America. All of this is extremely irritating and makes me doubt the sincerity and scholarly merit of the author.
Chattel slavery is grossly immoral and a shameful blight upon our country. I have no problem with an author pointing this out or writing an entire work on the Founders and their obvious hypocrisy on this issue. My complaint is not that the author repeatedly addresses these issues, but that he seems to assume that “we moderns, with our Enlightened values and respect for human dignity, can blithely and easily sit in judgment, and even be baffled, by such apparent hypocrisy.” The book is suffused with this disingenuous naïveté and progressivist ideology. Almost as though we haven’t just witnessed the most violent and inhumane last 100 or so years in all of human history. It is terrible to own another human being. It is equally-if not more terrible-to rape, sell, round up like cattle and gas, abort, and obliterate by nuclear holocaust another human being. We’re all hypocrites and for anyone to presume they would have so obviously taken the high road is not only asinine, but also extremely dangerous. We got enough virtue-signaling during the summer of 2020, no need to pile it on further. This agenda distorts the author’s assessment of the Founders and causes him to drift repeatedly from the point and purpose of the work.
Finally, this book has once again confirmed my admiration and respect for Washington, as well as my utter distaste and dislike for Jefferson. Anyone of his intellectual capacity who “hates” Plato’s Republic and is incapable of seeing why it is one the greatest works ever written is not to be trusted.
This latter point becomes almost unbearable in the second half of the work. I should not have been surprised given the clearly biased, and frankly, irresponsible claims made in the prologue. Here the author asserts his feelings and makes some very broad assumptions about the 2016 election without carefully considering the deeper underlying causes for its outcome, as one might expect from a serious scholar of political history. He next asserts, without giving any evidence, that one party in America countenances "white supremacy." This is just lazy and disingenuous. Alas, all too predictable condescension and ignorant disdain from the Ivy League "cognoscenti." This should have been a red flag, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and pressed on anyway.
The writing is passable and somewhat engaging in places, and I learned a few things I did not know about the founders, but the author does not really seem to possess deep knowledge of the classics and he never quite delivers on the title of the book. He is mostly just retelling the story of the nascent stages of our country, and then peppering in references the founders made to classical authors. The main lines of the story are accurate, even inspiring in places, and it was nice to review again. However, with the exception of his analysis of Madison and the Athenian league, he does not really show how the Ancients affected the founders thinking with any serious depth. Washington was like a noble Roman (who didn't already know of the comparisons with Cincinnatus?), Adams liked Cicero, Jefferson preferred the Greek temperament, etc., and then he frequently makes loose connections like, "such and such a book was on his shelf, so he may have read it." This was disappointing and I expected a bit more based on the title and description of the work.
Of course, everyone writes from their own perspective—and despite what some may claim—it is not really possible to avoid prejudice entirely. I would argue that this isn’t even desirable. However, the author so blatantly attempts to mold the narrative in favor of the modern perspective, that he is unable to give a careful and balanced view of the founders.
Again, with the exception of Madison--and Washington to some degree, since he was so remarkably virtuous it is almost impossible for anyone to honestly disparage him—the author dwells so much and so frequently on the founders failures, shortcomings, insecurities, and mutual infighting, that one is generally left with the impression that they were mostly a bunch of brash, arrogant, hypocrites. He also somehow manages to work the problem of slavery into nearly every chapter and then concludes the whole work with this issue as the overarching criteria of judgment on the founders and the early history of America. All of this is extremely irritating and makes me doubt the sincerity and scholarly merit of the author.
Chattel slavery is grossly immoral and a shameful blight upon our country. I have no problem with an author pointing this out or writing an entire work on the Founders and their obvious hypocrisy on this issue. My complaint is not that the author repeatedly addresses these issues, but that he seems to assume that “we moderns, with our Enlightened values and respect for human dignity, can blithely and easily sit in judgment, and even be baffled, by such apparent hypocrisy.” The book is suffused with this disingenuous naïveté and progressivist ideology. Almost as though we haven’t just witnessed the most violent and inhumane last 100 or so years in all of human history. It is terrible to own another human being. It is equally-if not more terrible-to rape, sell, round up like cattle and gas, abort, and obliterate by nuclear holocaust another human being. We’re all hypocrites and for anyone to presume they would have so obviously taken the high road is not only asinine, but also extremely dangerous. We got enough virtue-signaling during the summer of 2020, no need to pile it on further. This agenda distorts the author’s assessment of the Founders and causes him to drift repeatedly from the point and purpose of the work.
Finally, this book has once again confirmed my admiration and respect for Washington, as well as my utter distaste and dislike for Jefferson. Anyone of his intellectual capacity who “hates” Plato’s Republic and is incapable of seeing why it is one the greatest works ever written is not to be trusted.
Read
June 4, 2021The book is good and well worth reading. The author's digression to President Trump, demonstrates his own partisanship, and is totally unnecessary. What is really unnerving, is how willing he is to deride President Trump in his book, and in essence dismissing the positions of millions of Americans who support the President. Remember Thomas, your perspective is only an opinion, just like those of the rest of us.
December 21, 2020
Having an interest in Greek philosophy, I was drawn to Ricks’ book on the influence of Roman and Greek thought on the founding fathers of the American Revolution. The book is a kind of recap of American history, but with an emphasis on what the major players were reading, and how it influenced them. The founding fathers of the United States were profoundly influenced by classical thinkers, more than we can imagine today, because college education was oriented around Latin and Greek studies, and even for those who were not college educated, such as George Washington, landed gentry took for granted the models of classical history.
One strong tangential impression, not intended by the author, was of how the founding fathers as young adults faced the world in ways totally familiar to modern experience. George Washington, who as a youth had lost his father and older brother, had to face the challenge of earning a living. As a teenager, he learned surveying as a profitable skill. At the first opportunity he took on a military reconnaissance task for the colonial governor of Virginia, and soon after enlisted in the colonial army. Sounds like any teenager today: if one doesn’t go to college, one learns a skill or joins the army.
John Adams was fortunate to go to college (Harvard was in the neighborhood), but when he graduated, he needed to find a job. He became a school teacher in an isolated small town, until he eventually undertook to study law. Again, sounds like the kind of choice any young person would find themselves making today.
Roman history provided the models for the founding fathers. George Washington admired Cato, a model of rectitude, who exposed the conspiracy of Catiline and countered the ambition of Caesar. John Adams admired Cicero, who rose from humble beginnings to high position though his rhetorical skills. Thomas Jefferson was more influenced by the Greeks than by the Romans, and admired Epicurus, summarizing virtue as consisting of prudence, temperance, fortitude and justice. James Madison studied, in addition to Horace and Cicero, the Greek military writer Xenophon, who described an ancient constitution with equal rights and freedom of speech. All were shaped by the classics.
As an admirer of Plato, I was disappointed in Jefferson’s take on Plato’s Republic, noting the “whimsies, the puerilities, and unintelligible jargon of this work.” In fairness, I would not take the Republic as a guide for designing a constitution, though it does have its political insights (such as that democracy tends to degenerate into tyranny).
By the first part of the nineteenth century, the emphasis on intellectual ideals and civic virtue, favored by the Federalists, gave way to the idea that everyone’s opinion counted equally, favored by the Democratic-Republicans. The rationalist secularism of the founding fathers gave way to a flourishing of religious sects as a result of religious freedom. The last president to have a classical education was John Quincy Adams. The influence of Greek and Roman writers was useful in designing an enduring United States Constitution, but not so useful when politics became the battle of competing political parties against which George Washington had warned.
One strong tangential impression, not intended by the author, was of how the founding fathers as young adults faced the world in ways totally familiar to modern experience. George Washington, who as a youth had lost his father and older brother, had to face the challenge of earning a living. As a teenager, he learned surveying as a profitable skill. At the first opportunity he took on a military reconnaissance task for the colonial governor of Virginia, and soon after enlisted in the colonial army. Sounds like any teenager today: if one doesn’t go to college, one learns a skill or joins the army.
John Adams was fortunate to go to college (Harvard was in the neighborhood), but when he graduated, he needed to find a job. He became a school teacher in an isolated small town, until he eventually undertook to study law. Again, sounds like the kind of choice any young person would find themselves making today.
Roman history provided the models for the founding fathers. George Washington admired Cato, a model of rectitude, who exposed the conspiracy of Catiline and countered the ambition of Caesar. John Adams admired Cicero, who rose from humble beginnings to high position though his rhetorical skills. Thomas Jefferson was more influenced by the Greeks than by the Romans, and admired Epicurus, summarizing virtue as consisting of prudence, temperance, fortitude and justice. James Madison studied, in addition to Horace and Cicero, the Greek military writer Xenophon, who described an ancient constitution with equal rights and freedom of speech. All were shaped by the classics.
As an admirer of Plato, I was disappointed in Jefferson’s take on Plato’s Republic, noting the “whimsies, the puerilities, and unintelligible jargon of this work.” In fairness, I would not take the Republic as a guide for designing a constitution, though it does have its political insights (such as that democracy tends to degenerate into tyranny).
By the first part of the nineteenth century, the emphasis on intellectual ideals and civic virtue, favored by the Federalists, gave way to the idea that everyone’s opinion counted equally, favored by the Democratic-Republicans. The rationalist secularism of the founding fathers gave way to a flourishing of religious sects as a result of religious freedom. The last president to have a classical education was John Quincy Adams. The influence of Greek and Roman writers was useful in designing an enduring United States Constitution, but not so useful when politics became the battle of competing political parties against which George Washington had warned.
February 28, 2021
Some years ago I learned a little mantra in a seminar at work that I find applicable in many situations. "You never get a second chance to make a good first impression." I have developed Angie's Corollary as well, " Final impressions are lasting impressions." Uh oh! on both counts.
I picked up this book to read about the Founding Fathers, only to have the author open on the first page with his disappointment at the outcome of the 2016 election. Even if I agree with him, I did not sign on for his political opinions or his feelings about where the country should be going (I cheated and read the Epilogue, which contains his ten recommended steps to put our country more on the course intended by the Revolutionary generation, at least the parts of that course he agrees with, since I doubt he would reinstitute slavery or take away women's right to vote). I signed on to read about just what the title promised: an objective look at how the Founders were influenced by the Greeks and Romans.
Nonetheless I decided to grit my teeth and give him a chance to redeem himself in the body of the text itself. I found the writing pretty enjoyable, but then I looked at some of the reviews and decided to bail out. I am not sophisticated in American history, and the critical reviews by people who seemed to know their stuff convinced me I could not trust the accuracy of the book. The Most Helpful Amazon review by An Amazon Customer was a long critical one giving many such examples. I also found the Goodreads review by Sigrid Frye-Revere very helpful, especially pointing out that Ricks seemed not to realize that back in the Revolutionary period people used the term "liberty" more than "freedom", which may be why the word "virtue" appears more often then "freedom".
I would rather be uninformed than misinformed.
I picked up this book to read about the Founding Fathers, only to have the author open on the first page with his disappointment at the outcome of the 2016 election. Even if I agree with him, I did not sign on for his political opinions or his feelings about where the country should be going (I cheated and read the Epilogue, which contains his ten recommended steps to put our country more on the course intended by the Revolutionary generation, at least the parts of that course he agrees with, since I doubt he would reinstitute slavery or take away women's right to vote). I signed on to read about just what the title promised: an objective look at how the Founders were influenced by the Greeks and Romans.
Nonetheless I decided to grit my teeth and give him a chance to redeem himself in the body of the text itself. I found the writing pretty enjoyable, but then I looked at some of the reviews and decided to bail out. I am not sophisticated in American history, and the critical reviews by people who seemed to know their stuff convinced me I could not trust the accuracy of the book. The Most Helpful Amazon review by An Amazon Customer was a long critical one giving many such examples. I also found the Goodreads review by Sigrid Frye-Revere very helpful, especially pointing out that Ricks seemed not to realize that back in the Revolutionary period people used the term "liberty" more than "freedom", which may be why the word "virtue" appears more often then "freedom".
I would rather be uninformed than misinformed.
November 28, 2020
A great book, providing a study of the way the education and cultural environment of our founding fathers influenced their political thoughts and actions. The books closely follows Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison in explaining how classical concepts developed their principles and shaped their actions in the development of American independence and government. The author, noted journalist Thomas Ricks, dives deep into the idea of Virtue - a concept with important implications for America’s early years but one which also requires a thorough understanding of the background and culture for those who wielded that word as a weapon and a shield. Ricks delivers that understanding in a well-developed and clear history of the Revolutionary period and its aftermath. The book follows the education and experiences of the four main characters. He shows how their education, though widely different in execution, shared a common classical foundation. That classical foundation permeated the world in which they lived, surrounding them as they lived their lives. It was interesting to learn the details of this classical education, the particular writers and characters who were most admired, the view of Greek vs Roman culture, and the stark absence of Christianity in these realms of thought. Most of the second half of the book is spent dissecting key documents, actions, and writings of the four principal figures; though many other key members of the founding father set are given due regard for their work and contributions. The importance of the classical roots in these foundational American concepts are well explained. While the unique stamp each figure made on the collective American ideal is also described. Along the way we learn that Washington, though the least educated of the four, was in thought and deed the one who most closely resembled the epitome of the classical statesman. Adams was, to the end, the most devoted to the philosophical vice practical. Whereas Madison, described as the key politician of the revolutionary era, was the exact opposite, seeking out practical applications in the pages of classical philosophers. Finally Jefferson, the figure with the strongest predilection for Greek vice Roman thought, presaged the turn from classical enlightenment to classical romanticism with his strong epicurean ideals. All in all, it is a fascinating re-appraisal of the way in which Cato, Cicero, Tacitus, and many other Ancients greatly contributed to America’s foundational ideas. I especially appreciated the insights into various oft-quoted statements by Adams and Jefferson - the book provides needed philosophical context which very much alters some of the thrust of these quotes. Highly recommended for those wanting to better understand the importance of Virtue in the American citizen’s participation in the republic.
January 12, 2024
“We have probably had too good an opinion of human nature in forming our confederation .... We must take human nature as we find it. Perfection falls not to the share of mortals.” G Washington
Like many modern books pass off as scholarly history, First Principles is a partisan political polemic. Basically a sound review of the principles of the first four presidents and the men around them, and how they influenced the founding documents and how that influence waned and morphed with the passing of their generation. Ricks notes three shortcomings of the founders’ classical bent, but he hides on his real objection: while these founders (except of course Hamilton) all pursued limited government, Ricks espouses expansive government.
Because the founders failed to find a way to address the entire issue of race-based chattel slavery, less than a century later the nation they built would fracture into civil war and undergo a long and halting reconstruction that continues even today.
Weak scholarship mixed in, as reflected in other reviews, but First Principles provides a helpful starting point for both superficial understanding and further research into events 250 years ago. Repeats well-known and told-better-elsewhere biographies of first four presidents. Ricks focuses on their letters and correspondence about theories of governing, not just the immediate crises.
Washington came closer to the Roman example than his peers precisely because he was a man of deeds, not of words.
The epilogue killed a potential four-star rating. His partisan politics is interspersed with scholarly journalism in the body, but his weakly-supported personal opinions hardly qualify as a plan to save America.
They did not design the United States to be an oligarchy, governed by the rich few. (Didn’t they?)
Like many modern books pass off as scholarly history, First Principles is a partisan political polemic. Basically a sound review of the principles of the first four presidents and the men around them, and how they influenced the founding documents and how that influence waned and morphed with the passing of their generation. Ricks notes three shortcomings of the founders’ classical bent, but he hides on his real objection: while these founders (except of course Hamilton) all pursued limited government, Ricks espouses expansive government.
Because the founders failed to find a way to address the entire issue of race-based chattel slavery, less than a century later the nation they built would fracture into civil war and undergo a long and halting reconstruction that continues even today.
Weak scholarship mixed in, as reflected in other reviews, but First Principles provides a helpful starting point for both superficial understanding and further research into events 250 years ago. Repeats well-known and told-better-elsewhere biographies of first four presidents. Ricks focuses on their letters and correspondence about theories of governing, not just the immediate crises.
Washington came closer to the Roman example than his peers precisely because he was a man of deeds, not of words.
The epilogue killed a potential four-star rating. His partisan politics is interspersed with scholarly journalism in the body, but his weakly-supported personal opinions hardly qualify as a plan to save America.
They did not design the United States to be an oligarchy, governed by the rich few. (Didn’t they?)
January 8, 2021
In the file cabinet of my mind, there is a large drawer marked "Things I Wished I Had Said". One entry in that drawer goes something like, "In the beginning, God created man, and man has been returning the favor ever since." The type of psychological projection used in defining the Deity, is also often used on that group known as The Founding Fathers. I have heard my contemporaries describe Thomas Jefferson, for example, as everything from an atheist to a theocrat.
In this book, Thomas Ricks has tried determine more accurately what The Founding Fathers were thinking by looking at the books they read and the source of their education. He devoted most of his attention to Washington, Adams, Jefferson and Madison, the first four presidents, and shows that all were much more familiar Roman and Greek literature and history than any succeeding generation has been.
I have to admit that I am old enough to have taken Latin in high school, however about all I have retained from that language are "Omnia Gallia en tres partes dividida est", "Cartago delenda est", and stray lines from Adestes Fideles. I did however read (in English) much of Plutarch's Lives, which apparently was practically required reading for the educated 18th century American. Ricks shows parallels between various Founding Fathers and classical Romans, the details of whose lives were common knowledge in the late 18th century.
Ricks's effort might not be useful in trying to refute court decisions by so-called "originalists" judges, but it does provide an interesting review of early American political history.
In this book, Thomas Ricks has tried determine more accurately what The Founding Fathers were thinking by looking at the books they read and the source of their education. He devoted most of his attention to Washington, Adams, Jefferson and Madison, the first four presidents, and shows that all were much more familiar Roman and Greek literature and history than any succeeding generation has been.
I have to admit that I am old enough to have taken Latin in high school, however about all I have retained from that language are "Omnia Gallia en tres partes dividida est", "Cartago delenda est", and stray lines from Adestes Fideles. I did however read (in English) much of Plutarch's Lives, which apparently was practically required reading for the educated 18th century American. Ricks shows parallels between various Founding Fathers and classical Romans, the details of whose lives were common knowledge in the late 18th century.
Ricks's effort might not be useful in trying to refute court decisions by so-called "originalists" judges, but it does provide an interesting review of early American political history.
June 23, 2021
Sadly, this was a great disappointment. Instead of viewing the Founder and the Ancient Greeks and Romans in their own contextual light, this strayed far and wide into this current land of wokeness. Some valuable information and scholarship were overwhelmed by the prejudices of this current age. I will put it on the shelf and take it down once the air is cleansed of the remnants of this silly season. It may well serve some future reader as a guide on how not to write history.
March 19, 2021
Amazing influences from a more cultured citizenry from the past leading to mastery of a new world. Thomas Ricks...Winner of the Pulitzer is masterful as he writes wisdom on every page.
March 29, 2021
Another solid and thought provoking piece by Ricks who is fast becoming one of my favorite historical writers.
May 4, 2021
If you think the USA is going to hell in a hand basket now then look at the terms of the first four presidents and you will see a similar situation. An absolutely fascinating look at our founders’ fascination with Greco Roman politics and its effect on the formation of our country. Ricks focuses on the first four presidents: Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison. The Scottish Enlightenment also had a profound effect.
It’s filled with revelations like:
Virtue appears more than freedom in Revolutionary Era correspondence.
Religion had less influence from 1775-1815 than in any future 40 year period in American History.
Page 69. “Scotland’s influence on American History was profound and remains underappreciated.”
Jefferson- forward thinking but not forward acting. Inquisitive but no desire to travel West. Monticello faced East. Art of life is the avoidance of pain.
Madison attended Princeton which was the Berkeley of its time having a diverse student population from the entire Eastern seaboard. Its president was a Scotsman and it was a veritable carbon copy of Edinburgh.
And here’s a good Jeopardy question. Which President has the most towns and counties named for him? It’s 57 and a real surprise.
This book will stimulate you to read about Cato, Cicero, and Hume as well as books by them.
Washington and Madison come off as the most successful. Adams and Jefferson come off their pedestals. In the epilogue Ricks offers ten steps for us today to keep in step with what our founders envisioned.
It’s filled with revelations like:
Virtue appears more than freedom in Revolutionary Era correspondence.
Religion had less influence from 1775-1815 than in any future 40 year period in American History.
Page 69. “Scotland’s influence on American History was profound and remains underappreciated.”
Jefferson- forward thinking but not forward acting. Inquisitive but no desire to travel West. Monticello faced East. Art of life is the avoidance of pain.
Madison attended Princeton which was the Berkeley of its time having a diverse student population from the entire Eastern seaboard. Its president was a Scotsman and it was a veritable carbon copy of Edinburgh.
And here’s a good Jeopardy question. Which President has the most towns and counties named for him? It’s 57 and a real surprise.
This book will stimulate you to read about Cato, Cicero, and Hume as well as books by them.
Washington and Madison come off as the most successful. Adams and Jefferson come off their pedestals. In the epilogue Ricks offers ten steps for us today to keep in step with what our founders envisioned.
January 7, 2021
Loved reading this -- especially as it gave me a lot of perspective on 2021's already saddening and scary events at the Capitol building. I have a new appreciation for James Madison. He earnestly wanted to learn, improve, and serve. This book is not flattering for John Adams. I noticed one typo in the epilogue but it is ok because no one is perfect! ;)
September 20, 2022
This book is subtitled, “What America’s Founders Learned From the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country.” So, I guess the reader can be excused for expecting to read a fair bit about what America’s founders learned from the Greeks and Romans and how that shaped our country. But, this book is only loosely concerned with that topic. Ricks actually has another purpose in mind:
“On that gray Wednesday morning after the presidential election of 2016, I woke up with a series of questions: What just happened? What kind of nation do we now have? Is this what was designed or intended by the nation’s founders?
Recalling that the people who made the Revolution and wrote the Constitution had been influenced by the thinkers of the ancient world, I decided to go back to fundamentals. I went to my library and took down Aristotle’s Politics, not knowing I was embarking on an intellectual journey that would last four years. Aristotle led me to other political thinkers, and eventually I found myself rereading the Declaration of Independence and other foundational documents.
Before that Tuesday night in November 2016, I had thought I understood my country. But the result of that election shocked me. Clearly, many of my fellow citizens had an understanding of our nation profoundly different from mine. Foremost among them was the new president-elect.”
Ricks makes no attempt to hide his low esteem for Donald Trump and Trump voters. But how exactly did this contempt drive the author to “go back to fundamentals?” What was he expecting to find in his journey through the classical treatises and the American framers’ conceptions of them? Did he really think that Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison—or, for that matter, Cicero, Cato, and Plutarch—would set the record straight and declare from on high that demagoguery is anathema, but neoliberal globalism is the path to the eschaton?
Ricks opens and closes his book with contrived reflections on the wisdom of the ancients—contrived because the book does so little to inform his concerns and his recommendations. Even after I read the histrionic passage quoted above, I remained open-minded about the direction of the narrative. After all, Ricks’ political leanings need not get in the way of a potentially interesting topic: how the framers were influenced by the Greeks and Romans. But this book overpromises and underwhelms.
First, the narrative is rife with contrived links between the ancients and the American founders. It’s as though Ricks wrote a good chunk of the book before realizing the connections were more tenuous than he initially thought, so he was forced to pad the rest of the book with these (at best) forced links. Consider this quote:
“The departure of the French from the Ohio headwaters presented a timely moment for Washington to resign his position, go home to his plantation, and get on with his life—and that is precisely what he did. One can only wonder if he was familiar with a comment of Cicero’s, in an echo of Xenophon, that “of all sources of wealth, farming is the best, the most agreeable, the most profitable, the most noble.””
This is a painfully forced parallel, particularly given that Ricks admits Washington possessed only sparse familiarity with the Greeks and Romans. But to smooth over this reality, which is inconvenient for his thesis, the author instead dwells on Washington’s “classically shaped behavior,” musing, “What could be more Roman than the prudent exercise of power?”
Ricks also repeatedly kneads speculation into his work using the nebulous phrase, “One can only wonder.” Consider these statements:
“The frontier, and the huge, rich expanse beyond it, was a major factor in American life at the time of the Revolution, and would remain so for another 120 years—but Jefferson never ventured into it, although he would send others to explore it. It was an odd omission for such an inquisitive man. One can only wonder if Monticello’s position facing eastward is symbolic of his perspective.”
“One can only wonder if Jefferson was influenced by Socrates’ admonition, reported by Xenophon, that a dwelling should be designed so that “each room invited just what was suited to it.””
“Madison passed the winter of 1787–1788 in New York City, writing essays and letters. One can only wonder if he had any social life while there.”
“Jefferson’s account rings true, especially that “by god he had rather be in his grave,” which feels like a verbatim transcription. One can only wonder at the emotional cost to Washington of this outburst. He truly must have been at the end of his rope.”
“[Jefferson] assured a Virginia political ally that “a little patience and we shall see the reign of witches pass over, their spells dissolve, and the people recovering their true sight, restore their government to its true principles.” That was a provocative choice of words. One can only wonder if he was alluding to the witch trials a century earlier in Massachusetts, the home of leading Federalists….”
“[Washington] was the only founder involved in human bondage who tried to emancipate so many enslaved people. One can only wonder if this is because, as a man who learned mainly by observation and experience, he had come to see the practice of race-based slavery differently than his peers did. Jefferson was far better at avoiding reality than was Washington.”
“This was a painful conclusion for [Hamilton] to reach, that the new nation that he had worked so hard to build seemed to have no place for him. One can only wonder about the psychological strain this brilliant, ambitious man must have felt. He had voluntarily moved to America, only to see the country move away from him. It clearly was not becoming the nation he had envisioned.”
Even when he’s not deploying this phrase, Ricks engages in linguistic subtleties that allow him enough freedom to draw unwarranted connections between certain Greeks and Romans on the one hand, and the American framers on the others. These connections sometimes exist only in the author’s mind, not in his subjects’ minds.
Over half the book has no apparent relevance to the title. There are multiple long stretches of text that detail revolutionary or constitutional era history, without reference to the ancients or the framers’ perceptions of them. But the author saves his ultimate impertinence for the epilogue. It’s here that he indulges in a bit of speculation about how the framers would feel about contemporary America. And—surprise!—it just so happens they would align with Thomas Ricks’ specific variety of 21st century progressivism! Yes, the framers allegedly designed a “flexible” system that would stymie the designs of the “retrogressive” and “anti-Enlightenment” Trump. They believed in democracy and the infinite capacity of the “general welfare” clause. They didn’t care so much about individual rights, as they did about the rights of the people as a whole. And they all “believed that government had a central role to play in American life.” Revisionism aside, these notions would have been quite a surprise to the framers. Just read the proceedings of the state ratification conventions and the writings of the Antifederalists. Nevertheless, just for good measure, Ricks claims that the “original opposition” to government overreach came from…slaveholders. Now, you don’t want to be like one of those slaveholders, do you? Then submit to benevolent Leviathan.
As an aside on the topic of slavery: Ricks provides a misleading summary of Charles Sumner’s “The Crime Against Kansas” speech and Sumner’s subsequent caning. In the author’s mind, Sumner stood on the Senate floor and dazzled his hearers with stories of liberation from the ancient world, then convicted them with admonitions from the Bible. Then, according to Ricks, some chastened and nameless South Carolina congressman “walked onto the floor of the Senate and nearly beat Sumner to death with a thick walking cane that bore a heavy gold head.” I offer no defense of this violent assault. It was inexcusable. But there’s some context missing here—context which I suspect the author knows and has chosen to exclude. During the speech, Sumner said the following:
“The Senator from South Carolina [Andrew Butler] has read many books of chivalry, and believes himself a chivalrous knight, with sentiments of honor and courage. Of course he has chosen a mistress to whom he has made his vows, and who, though ugly to others, is always lovely to him; though polluted in the sight of the world, is chaste in his sight I mean the harlot, Slavery.”
Also:
“With regret, I come again upon the Senator from South Carolina, who, omnipresent in this debate, overflowed with rage at the simple suggestion that Kansas had applied for admission as a State and, with incoherent phrases, discharged the loose expectoration of his speech, now upon her representative, and then upon her people. There was no extravagance of the ancient parliamentary debate, which he did not repeat; nor was there any possible deviation from truth which he did not make, with so much of passion, I am glad to add, as to save him from the suspicion of intentional aberration. But the Senator touches nothing which he does not disfigure with error, sometimes of principle, sometimes of fact. He shows an incapacity of accuracy, whether in stating the Constitution, or in stating the law, whether in the details of statistics or the diversions of scholarship. He cannot open his mouth, but out there flies a blunder.”
Also:
“Has [Senator Butler] read the history of "the State" which he represents? He cannot surely have forgotten its shameful imbecility from Slavery, confessed throughout the Revolution, followed by its more shameful assumptions for Slavery since. He cannot have forgotten its wretched persistence in the slave-trade as the very apple of its eye, and the condition of its participation in the Union. He cannot have forgotten its constitution, which is Republican only in name, confirming power in the hands of the few, and founding the qualifications of its legislators on "a settled freehold estate and ten negroes." And yet the Senator, to whom that "State" has in part committed the guardianship of its good name, instead of moving, with backward treading steps, to cover its nakedness, rushes forward in the very ecstasy of madness, to expose it by provoking a comparison with Kansas.”
Finally:
“Were the whole history of South Carolina blotted out of existence, from its very beginning down to the day of the last election of the Senator to his present seat on this floor, civilization might lose—I do not say how little; but surely less than it has already gained by the example of Kansas, in its valiant struggle against oppression, and in the development of a new science of emigration. Already, in Lawrence alone, there are newspapers and schools, including a High School, and throughout this infant Territory there is more mature scholarship far, in proportion to its inhabitants, than in all South Carolina. Ah, sir, I tell the Senator that Kansas, welcomed as a free State, will be a “ministering angel” to the Republic, when South Carolina, in the cloak of darkness which she hugs, “lies howling.””
Sumner was not satisfied merely with insulting Andrew Butler, but the people of South Carolina, as well. He also referred to pro-slavery border ruffians in Kansas as “Hirelings, picked from the drunken spew and vomit of an uneasy civilization—in the form of men.” If a sitting United States senator employed such language in the modern day, what would be the reaction? How did Ricks react when he heard Donald Trump’s unflattering characterization of certain lands outside the United States? Congressman Preston Brooks—the representative who assaulted Sumner—was a relative of Andrew Butler. Brooks was deeply offended by “The Crime Against Kansas,” and he offered the justification (in his mind) for his attack just before he struck the first blow: “Mr. Sumner, I have read your speech twice over carefully. It is a libel on South Carolina, and Mr. Butler, who is a relative of mine.” Again, this is not meant to defend the assault. But this context is entirely omitted in the book.
In summary, this book overpromises and underwhelms and is written in service to an ideology not found among its subjects. I don’t recommend it.
“On that gray Wednesday morning after the presidential election of 2016, I woke up with a series of questions: What just happened? What kind of nation do we now have? Is this what was designed or intended by the nation’s founders?
Recalling that the people who made the Revolution and wrote the Constitution had been influenced by the thinkers of the ancient world, I decided to go back to fundamentals. I went to my library and took down Aristotle’s Politics, not knowing I was embarking on an intellectual journey that would last four years. Aristotle led me to other political thinkers, and eventually I found myself rereading the Declaration of Independence and other foundational documents.
Before that Tuesday night in November 2016, I had thought I understood my country. But the result of that election shocked me. Clearly, many of my fellow citizens had an understanding of our nation profoundly different from mine. Foremost among them was the new president-elect.”
Ricks makes no attempt to hide his low esteem for Donald Trump and Trump voters. But how exactly did this contempt drive the author to “go back to fundamentals?” What was he expecting to find in his journey through the classical treatises and the American framers’ conceptions of them? Did he really think that Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison—or, for that matter, Cicero, Cato, and Plutarch—would set the record straight and declare from on high that demagoguery is anathema, but neoliberal globalism is the path to the eschaton?
Ricks opens and closes his book with contrived reflections on the wisdom of the ancients—contrived because the book does so little to inform his concerns and his recommendations. Even after I read the histrionic passage quoted above, I remained open-minded about the direction of the narrative. After all, Ricks’ political leanings need not get in the way of a potentially interesting topic: how the framers were influenced by the Greeks and Romans. But this book overpromises and underwhelms.
First, the narrative is rife with contrived links between the ancients and the American founders. It’s as though Ricks wrote a good chunk of the book before realizing the connections were more tenuous than he initially thought, so he was forced to pad the rest of the book with these (at best) forced links. Consider this quote:
“The departure of the French from the Ohio headwaters presented a timely moment for Washington to resign his position, go home to his plantation, and get on with his life—and that is precisely what he did. One can only wonder if he was familiar with a comment of Cicero’s, in an echo of Xenophon, that “of all sources of wealth, farming is the best, the most agreeable, the most profitable, the most noble.””
This is a painfully forced parallel, particularly given that Ricks admits Washington possessed only sparse familiarity with the Greeks and Romans. But to smooth over this reality, which is inconvenient for his thesis, the author instead dwells on Washington’s “classically shaped behavior,” musing, “What could be more Roman than the prudent exercise of power?”
Ricks also repeatedly kneads speculation into his work using the nebulous phrase, “One can only wonder.” Consider these statements:
“The frontier, and the huge, rich expanse beyond it, was a major factor in American life at the time of the Revolution, and would remain so for another 120 years—but Jefferson never ventured into it, although he would send others to explore it. It was an odd omission for such an inquisitive man. One can only wonder if Monticello’s position facing eastward is symbolic of his perspective.”
“One can only wonder if Jefferson was influenced by Socrates’ admonition, reported by Xenophon, that a dwelling should be designed so that “each room invited just what was suited to it.””
“Madison passed the winter of 1787–1788 in New York City, writing essays and letters. One can only wonder if he had any social life while there.”
“Jefferson’s account rings true, especially that “by god he had rather be in his grave,” which feels like a verbatim transcription. One can only wonder at the emotional cost to Washington of this outburst. He truly must have been at the end of his rope.”
“[Jefferson] assured a Virginia political ally that “a little patience and we shall see the reign of witches pass over, their spells dissolve, and the people recovering their true sight, restore their government to its true principles.” That was a provocative choice of words. One can only wonder if he was alluding to the witch trials a century earlier in Massachusetts, the home of leading Federalists….”
“[Washington] was the only founder involved in human bondage who tried to emancipate so many enslaved people. One can only wonder if this is because, as a man who learned mainly by observation and experience, he had come to see the practice of race-based slavery differently than his peers did. Jefferson was far better at avoiding reality than was Washington.”
“This was a painful conclusion for [Hamilton] to reach, that the new nation that he had worked so hard to build seemed to have no place for him. One can only wonder about the psychological strain this brilliant, ambitious man must have felt. He had voluntarily moved to America, only to see the country move away from him. It clearly was not becoming the nation he had envisioned.”
Even when he’s not deploying this phrase, Ricks engages in linguistic subtleties that allow him enough freedom to draw unwarranted connections between certain Greeks and Romans on the one hand, and the American framers on the others. These connections sometimes exist only in the author’s mind, not in his subjects’ minds.
Over half the book has no apparent relevance to the title. There are multiple long stretches of text that detail revolutionary or constitutional era history, without reference to the ancients or the framers’ perceptions of them. But the author saves his ultimate impertinence for the epilogue. It’s here that he indulges in a bit of speculation about how the framers would feel about contemporary America. And—surprise!—it just so happens they would align with Thomas Ricks’ specific variety of 21st century progressivism! Yes, the framers allegedly designed a “flexible” system that would stymie the designs of the “retrogressive” and “anti-Enlightenment” Trump. They believed in democracy and the infinite capacity of the “general welfare” clause. They didn’t care so much about individual rights, as they did about the rights of the people as a whole. And they all “believed that government had a central role to play in American life.” Revisionism aside, these notions would have been quite a surprise to the framers. Just read the proceedings of the state ratification conventions and the writings of the Antifederalists. Nevertheless, just for good measure, Ricks claims that the “original opposition” to government overreach came from…slaveholders. Now, you don’t want to be like one of those slaveholders, do you? Then submit to benevolent Leviathan.
As an aside on the topic of slavery: Ricks provides a misleading summary of Charles Sumner’s “The Crime Against Kansas” speech and Sumner’s subsequent caning. In the author’s mind, Sumner stood on the Senate floor and dazzled his hearers with stories of liberation from the ancient world, then convicted them with admonitions from the Bible. Then, according to Ricks, some chastened and nameless South Carolina congressman “walked onto the floor of the Senate and nearly beat Sumner to death with a thick walking cane that bore a heavy gold head.” I offer no defense of this violent assault. It was inexcusable. But there’s some context missing here—context which I suspect the author knows and has chosen to exclude. During the speech, Sumner said the following:
“The Senator from South Carolina [Andrew Butler] has read many books of chivalry, and believes himself a chivalrous knight, with sentiments of honor and courage. Of course he has chosen a mistress to whom he has made his vows, and who, though ugly to others, is always lovely to him; though polluted in the sight of the world, is chaste in his sight I mean the harlot, Slavery.”
Also:
“With regret, I come again upon the Senator from South Carolina, who, omnipresent in this debate, overflowed with rage at the simple suggestion that Kansas had applied for admission as a State and, with incoherent phrases, discharged the loose expectoration of his speech, now upon her representative, and then upon her people. There was no extravagance of the ancient parliamentary debate, which he did not repeat; nor was there any possible deviation from truth which he did not make, with so much of passion, I am glad to add, as to save him from the suspicion of intentional aberration. But the Senator touches nothing which he does not disfigure with error, sometimes of principle, sometimes of fact. He shows an incapacity of accuracy, whether in stating the Constitution, or in stating the law, whether in the details of statistics or the diversions of scholarship. He cannot open his mouth, but out there flies a blunder.”
Also:
“Has [Senator Butler] read the history of "the State" which he represents? He cannot surely have forgotten its shameful imbecility from Slavery, confessed throughout the Revolution, followed by its more shameful assumptions for Slavery since. He cannot have forgotten its wretched persistence in the slave-trade as the very apple of its eye, and the condition of its participation in the Union. He cannot have forgotten its constitution, which is Republican only in name, confirming power in the hands of the few, and founding the qualifications of its legislators on "a settled freehold estate and ten negroes." And yet the Senator, to whom that "State" has in part committed the guardianship of its good name, instead of moving, with backward treading steps, to cover its nakedness, rushes forward in the very ecstasy of madness, to expose it by provoking a comparison with Kansas.”
Finally:
“Were the whole history of South Carolina blotted out of existence, from its very beginning down to the day of the last election of the Senator to his present seat on this floor, civilization might lose—I do not say how little; but surely less than it has already gained by the example of Kansas, in its valiant struggle against oppression, and in the development of a new science of emigration. Already, in Lawrence alone, there are newspapers and schools, including a High School, and throughout this infant Territory there is more mature scholarship far, in proportion to its inhabitants, than in all South Carolina. Ah, sir, I tell the Senator that Kansas, welcomed as a free State, will be a “ministering angel” to the Republic, when South Carolina, in the cloak of darkness which she hugs, “lies howling.””
Sumner was not satisfied merely with insulting Andrew Butler, but the people of South Carolina, as well. He also referred to pro-slavery border ruffians in Kansas as “Hirelings, picked from the drunken spew and vomit of an uneasy civilization—in the form of men.” If a sitting United States senator employed such language in the modern day, what would be the reaction? How did Ricks react when he heard Donald Trump’s unflattering characterization of certain lands outside the United States? Congressman Preston Brooks—the representative who assaulted Sumner—was a relative of Andrew Butler. Brooks was deeply offended by “The Crime Against Kansas,” and he offered the justification (in his mind) for his attack just before he struck the first blow: “Mr. Sumner, I have read your speech twice over carefully. It is a libel on South Carolina, and Mr. Butler, who is a relative of mine.” Again, this is not meant to defend the assault. But this context is entirely omitted in the book.
In summary, this book overpromises and underwhelms and is written in service to an ideology not found among its subjects. I don’t recommend it.
April 11, 2022
First Principles is an essential US history reading. It is also one of the most interesting books I’ve read on the revolutionary era and provides compelling context for constitutional interpretation. Ricks chooses to frame his biography of the founding generation and its leaders through the lens of the Greek and Roman classics (and I’d argue classical liberalism from the Enlightenment era). The classical lens works because the well known founders largely read all of the classics, theaters focused on the Roman tragedies during the time, and the historical struggles of the Roman Republic and Greek City-State league. Most if not all of these founding aristocrats also read Hume and Montesquieu and were educated by Scottish Immigrants.
So we get a focused and page turning bio of Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and Washington-Hamilton too really. Ricks is pretty awful to Madison portraying him as a petty Cicero want-to-be, Washington as Cato (this has been often implied but is best explained here as far as that was a semi-conscious choice by Washington and why his stoic and virtuous behaviors were intentional), Jefferson as an Epicurian, and Madison as a tactical political genius.
Ricks focuses on their early education, the juicy parts of the revolutionary war, and the constitutional conventions and beginning of party politics. This is all fascinating from details like how many times Madison revised his letters about constitutional intent or how Patrick Henry’s quote of give me liberty or give me death was from the era’s most popular play about Cicero to rethinking the how the framers thought of virtue, democracy and the merits and demerits of their choices—and more importantly the tension and worries that led to those choices.
This brief, thoughtful, and compelling tale of the founders and their generation ends with a populist movement that gained critical mass during Jefferson’s presidency against aristocratic virtue and lessons earlier generations that have implications for our current political chaos. It might leave more cynical readers with hope that the petty disputes between the founders (frequently expressed in classical terms and fears) led to a government that can survive significant challenges.
So we get a focused and page turning bio of Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and Washington-Hamilton too really. Ricks is pretty awful to Madison portraying him as a petty Cicero want-to-be, Washington as Cato (this has been often implied but is best explained here as far as that was a semi-conscious choice by Washington and why his stoic and virtuous behaviors were intentional), Jefferson as an Epicurian, and Madison as a tactical political genius.
Ricks focuses on their early education, the juicy parts of the revolutionary war, and the constitutional conventions and beginning of party politics. This is all fascinating from details like how many times Madison revised his letters about constitutional intent or how Patrick Henry’s quote of give me liberty or give me death was from the era’s most popular play about Cicero to rethinking the how the framers thought of virtue, democracy and the merits and demerits of their choices—and more importantly the tension and worries that led to those choices.
This brief, thoughtful, and compelling tale of the founders and their generation ends with a populist movement that gained critical mass during Jefferson’s presidency against aristocratic virtue and lessons earlier generations that have implications for our current political chaos. It might leave more cynical readers with hope that the petty disputes between the founders (frequently expressed in classical terms and fears) led to a government that can survive significant challenges.
June 22, 2021
On Wednesday, November 9, 2016 historian Thomas Ricks woke up and asked the question many of us were shouting that morning, "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?"
How could a republic so carefully, so painstakingly, so contentiously crafted in the crucible of revolutionary fervor and philosophical ideas have led to the American people selecting such a vile, anti-intellectual, self-serving, vulgarian as a head of state? Could the founders have anticipated this outcome? What would they make of this president or of the nation itself in 2016?
In search of an answer, (or perhaps therapy), Ricks began a deep-dive into the world of ideas that would have informed the generation of 1776. Countless histories have been written about those men and those times; Ricks wanted to write a book about the ideas and values that informed them.
His conclusion and the thesis of his book, was that Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison lived in a world comprised primarily of Roman figures and Roman thought. While the Enlightenment thinkers such as Locke, Hobbes, Montesquieu, and Rousseau have received proper attention in studying the ideas of the revolutionary generation, less focus has been given to the extent that classical thought and specifically Roman thought influenced these men.
By searching through the letters, journals, speeches, and recollections of these men, Ricks discovered the ubiquity of references and quotations from such Romans as Cicero, Caesar, Cato, Catiline, Brutus, and the like. In the same way we measure our current political landscape against our fabled revolutionary past (think: Hamilton), America's first leaders were constantly measuring themselves and each other against a backdrop of Rome (and specifically the Rome of 100BC-100AD). For example, Washington was intent on being seen as a Cato or a Cincinnatus while his enemies would try to paint him as a Catiline or a Caesar. The sheer volume of examples Ricks assembles is astonishing.
There was much to take away from this excellent work of scholarship. What I found most memorable were the numerous anecdotes of pettiness and drama-queen style complaining each of these men get up to. Though superior and incomparable to Trump in countless ways, these men would have each made liberal use of Twitter had it existed back then! John Adams especially never recovered from his loss to Jefferson and never stopped bellyaching about it!
How could a republic so carefully, so painstakingly, so contentiously crafted in the crucible of revolutionary fervor and philosophical ideas have led to the American people selecting such a vile, anti-intellectual, self-serving, vulgarian as a head of state? Could the founders have anticipated this outcome? What would they make of this president or of the nation itself in 2016?
In search of an answer, (or perhaps therapy), Ricks began a deep-dive into the world of ideas that would have informed the generation of 1776. Countless histories have been written about those men and those times; Ricks wanted to write a book about the ideas and values that informed them.
His conclusion and the thesis of his book, was that Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison lived in a world comprised primarily of Roman figures and Roman thought. While the Enlightenment thinkers such as Locke, Hobbes, Montesquieu, and Rousseau have received proper attention in studying the ideas of the revolutionary generation, less focus has been given to the extent that classical thought and specifically Roman thought influenced these men.
By searching through the letters, journals, speeches, and recollections of these men, Ricks discovered the ubiquity of references and quotations from such Romans as Cicero, Caesar, Cato, Catiline, Brutus, and the like. In the same way we measure our current political landscape against our fabled revolutionary past (think: Hamilton), America's first leaders were constantly measuring themselves and each other against a backdrop of Rome (and specifically the Rome of 100BC-100AD). For example, Washington was intent on being seen as a Cato or a Cincinnatus while his enemies would try to paint him as a Catiline or a Caesar. The sheer volume of examples Ricks assembles is astonishing.
There was much to take away from this excellent work of scholarship. What I found most memorable were the numerous anecdotes of pettiness and drama-queen style complaining each of these men get up to. Though superior and incomparable to Trump in countless ways, these men would have each made liberal use of Twitter had it existed back then! John Adams especially never recovered from his loss to Jefferson and never stopped bellyaching about it!
December 12, 2022
I noted a lot of comments here decrying the epilogue and WOW do I agree. The epilogue really made me consider giving this four stars, because it just didn't fit with the rest of the book. It wasn't that I don't think that Ricks wasn't smart, or not adding to the conversation, but I just didn't care about his "broad take aways," especially done in such an abbreviated form at the tail end of the work.
I really, really enjoyed this book and I've bought two copies of it to give as gifts. I didn't realize that it had come out last year! I thought it provided a lot of context to what education looked like during the founding of our nation, but also why each of the Founding Fathers ended up where they did ideologically.
My favorite tidbit was the part about the Epicurean addition of "pursuit of happiness" to the Lockean "life and liberty" courtesy of Jefferson. How cool!
Also, because of my Virginia connection, I loved the parts about Madison and Jefferson and Washington at home in their farms, particularly. I empathize with their love of the Piedmont region!!
I really, really enjoyed this book and I've bought two copies of it to give as gifts. I didn't realize that it had come out last year! I thought it provided a lot of context to what education looked like during the founding of our nation, but also why each of the Founding Fathers ended up where they did ideologically.
My favorite tidbit was the part about the Epicurean addition of "pursuit of happiness" to the Lockean "life and liberty" courtesy of Jefferson. How cool!
Also, because of my Virginia connection, I loved the parts about Madison and Jefferson and Washington at home in their farms, particularly. I empathize with their love of the Piedmont region!!
August 9, 2023
Thomas Ricks is best known for the books he wrote in the capacity of a national security and military journalist, including “Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq” (2006). In “First Principles: What America’s Founders Learned from the Greeks and Romans and How That Shaped Our Country” (2020), he turns his attention to the excavation of the ideas that were central to the founding of the United States. He explains in the Introduction that the election of Donald Trump sent him into a fit of existential angst which made him even more curious about how the founders drew from the ancients in their collective crafting of our shared cultural patrimony.
Even before I started to read, I suspected there were a couple of directions this could go. It could be spectacular, picking out ancient historians, poets, and philosophers and carefully drawing lines between their thought to the ideas in the Declaration of Independence, Articles of Confederation, and the Constitution. It could also be (and, let’s be honest, I had the sneaking suspicion it was) a fluffy multi-part biographical cut-and-paste job with the occasional Aristotle, Euripides, or Terence thrown in for good measure just to bear out the promise made in the subtitle. While I can’t say the book fails completely flat on its face, it does come across much more like the latter than the former.
It looks at the first four U.S. presidents: George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison, their early educations (Washington was the only one who didn’t attend a university) and influences. These topics sometimes hit on classical authors, but there are vast swaths of the book that don’t have anything to do with them at all, as when Ricks rather inexplicably discusses – at length – Washington’s participation in the French and Indian War and then the early days of his generalship during the Revolutionary War. More often, Ricks draws comparisons that lack any kind of historical robustness. Because Washington put the republican cause above his own interests and declined running for a third term in office for fear it might create an appearance of tyranny, he gets likened to Cato. For returning to Mount Vernon after his presidency was up to pick up farming, he is “a Cincinnatus.” This is adorable and probably passes for history for most readers who have no idea who Cato and Cincinnatus are, but this just doesn’t cut the mustard for rich, rewarding, or insightful history. It is thin, diaphanous, and weak.
We are told that Jefferson was largely influenced by thinkers of the Scottish Enlightenment. For those readers who don’t know how the Scottish Enlightenment differs from the German, French or American Enlightenments, he offers next to no clarification. He says that Jefferson tends towards Epicureanism, but for a modern readership that thinks “epicurean” is a synonym for a libertine or a hedonist, he does nothing to tell us what Epicurus said. This would have been a perfect opportunity to mention Stoic cosmology (stoic being another word whose contemporary English usage completely belies the complex ideas Stoic philosophers taught), which stated that the universe operated under an internal order or logic called the Logos. This could have dovetailed very nicely into a discussion of the founders’ deism and a comparison with Epicurean cosmology (derived from earlier versions of Democritean atomism), which introduced indeterminacy and randomness into the world’s order. Neither were mentioned even in passing.
Ricks closes the book with a simpering list of ten regrets brought about by our increasing lack of familiarity with classical traditions, which not only have just a tenuous connection to the book’s main argument (to the degree that it has one at all) but are sometimes also wild non sequiturs. #3 suggests that we “re-focus on the public good.” I don’t think this is a lesson exclusive to the Greeks or Romans. #2 tells us to “curtail campaign finance” and that “we should drop the bizarre American legal fiction that corporations are people” and that “corporations possess greater rights than people do.” For the record, I agree wholeheartedly on both fronts. What it has to do with the ideas presented in the rest of the book, I haven’t the faintest idea.
I think one of Ricks’ fundamental claims is that by immersing ourselves more fully in the classics, we can simultaneously get intellectually closer to the Founders than we are now. These are people who would have never been able to conceptualize a university education where learning Latin and Greek wasn’t compulsory or a world in which Homer was someone you wince your way through in high school and hope you never encounter again. Picking up some Polybius or Herodotus can help us better understand the mindset and mental framework the Founders were able to reference. Unfortunately, Ricks doesn’t harness his sources in a way that makes those connections explicit. Instead, he draws thin, facile comparisons between the figures he looks at (like Washington’s resemblance to Cato or Cincinnatus or John Adams to Cicero) and hopes that will pass for showing readers “what America’s founders learned from the Greeks and Romans and how that shaped our country.” It doesn’t.
One of the highlights of reading this was getting a chance to do so with two lovely, bright, engaging, and insightful people. Stephanie Cohen, Vin (from the YouTube channel Revenant Reads), and I exchanged ideas while we read this over the first few weeks of August. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank them here for the time and effort they put into our Discord server discussions.
Even before I started to read, I suspected there were a couple of directions this could go. It could be spectacular, picking out ancient historians, poets, and philosophers and carefully drawing lines between their thought to the ideas in the Declaration of Independence, Articles of Confederation, and the Constitution. It could also be (and, let’s be honest, I had the sneaking suspicion it was) a fluffy multi-part biographical cut-and-paste job with the occasional Aristotle, Euripides, or Terence thrown in for good measure just to bear out the promise made in the subtitle. While I can’t say the book fails completely flat on its face, it does come across much more like the latter than the former.
It looks at the first four U.S. presidents: George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison, their early educations (Washington was the only one who didn’t attend a university) and influences. These topics sometimes hit on classical authors, but there are vast swaths of the book that don’t have anything to do with them at all, as when Ricks rather inexplicably discusses – at length – Washington’s participation in the French and Indian War and then the early days of his generalship during the Revolutionary War. More often, Ricks draws comparisons that lack any kind of historical robustness. Because Washington put the republican cause above his own interests and declined running for a third term in office for fear it might create an appearance of tyranny, he gets likened to Cato. For returning to Mount Vernon after his presidency was up to pick up farming, he is “a Cincinnatus.” This is adorable and probably passes for history for most readers who have no idea who Cato and Cincinnatus are, but this just doesn’t cut the mustard for rich, rewarding, or insightful history. It is thin, diaphanous, and weak.
We are told that Jefferson was largely influenced by thinkers of the Scottish Enlightenment. For those readers who don’t know how the Scottish Enlightenment differs from the German, French or American Enlightenments, he offers next to no clarification. He says that Jefferson tends towards Epicureanism, but for a modern readership that thinks “epicurean” is a synonym for a libertine or a hedonist, he does nothing to tell us what Epicurus said. This would have been a perfect opportunity to mention Stoic cosmology (stoic being another word whose contemporary English usage completely belies the complex ideas Stoic philosophers taught), which stated that the universe operated under an internal order or logic called the Logos. This could have dovetailed very nicely into a discussion of the founders’ deism and a comparison with Epicurean cosmology (derived from earlier versions of Democritean atomism), which introduced indeterminacy and randomness into the world’s order. Neither were mentioned even in passing.
Ricks closes the book with a simpering list of ten regrets brought about by our increasing lack of familiarity with classical traditions, which not only have just a tenuous connection to the book’s main argument (to the degree that it has one at all) but are sometimes also wild non sequiturs. #3 suggests that we “re-focus on the public good.” I don’t think this is a lesson exclusive to the Greeks or Romans. #2 tells us to “curtail campaign finance” and that “we should drop the bizarre American legal fiction that corporations are people” and that “corporations possess greater rights than people do.” For the record, I agree wholeheartedly on both fronts. What it has to do with the ideas presented in the rest of the book, I haven’t the faintest idea.
I think one of Ricks’ fundamental claims is that by immersing ourselves more fully in the classics, we can simultaneously get intellectually closer to the Founders than we are now. These are people who would have never been able to conceptualize a university education where learning Latin and Greek wasn’t compulsory or a world in which Homer was someone you wince your way through in high school and hope you never encounter again. Picking up some Polybius or Herodotus can help us better understand the mindset and mental framework the Founders were able to reference. Unfortunately, Ricks doesn’t harness his sources in a way that makes those connections explicit. Instead, he draws thin, facile comparisons between the figures he looks at (like Washington’s resemblance to Cato or Cincinnatus or John Adams to Cicero) and hopes that will pass for showing readers “what America’s founders learned from the Greeks and Romans and how that shaped our country.” It doesn’t.
One of the highlights of reading this was getting a chance to do so with two lovely, bright, engaging, and insightful people. Stephanie Cohen, Vin (from the YouTube channel Revenant Reads), and I exchanged ideas while we read this over the first few weeks of August. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank them here for the time and effort they put into our Discord server discussions.
September 2, 2022
I’ll give this an easy 5 stars. Yet I’m still interested in the opinions of those who disagree.
This is a book about the Founding Fathers of America. It reviews their influences Greek, Roman, Scottish Philosophers, then current historians and more. To learn more about Cicero, Thuycidides, Cato, Caesar and more - you’ll have to read other sources.
But to review the personalities and interactions of Jefferson and Adams, Hamilton, Burr and Washington there is much to learn.
The writing is clear and easy to follow but not simplistic. Those objecting to the book seem to have a political bent, which even in the time of the founding fathers existed, more than we’d like to think.
This is a book about the Founding Fathers of America. It reviews their influences Greek, Roman, Scottish Philosophers, then current historians and more. To learn more about Cicero, Thuycidides, Cato, Caesar and more - you’ll have to read other sources.
But to review the personalities and interactions of Jefferson and Adams, Hamilton, Burr and Washington there is much to learn.
The writing is clear and easy to follow but not simplistic. Those objecting to the book seem to have a political bent, which even in the time of the founding fathers existed, more than we’d like to think.
February 18, 2021
I enjoyed this book a lot! and I was surprised I liked it as much as I did.
The book details the philosophy of American history leaders.
I'm not a big fan of history, so I'm pretty impressed I enjoyed it.
Although I enjoyed it, I would only recommend this for people who like American history, because I'm not sure many will like it with that caveat.
3.8/5
The book details the philosophy of American history leaders.
I'm not a big fan of history, so I'm pretty impressed I enjoyed it.
Although I enjoyed it, I would only recommend this for people who like American history, because I'm not sure many will like it with that caveat.
3.8/5
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