There is No Such Thing As an Open Republic

June 11, 2025

by Nicholas Callaghan

Jeffery Tyler Syck’s recent essay "The Case for an Open Republic" offers readers some thoughts on Madison’s understanding of pluralism and how that pertains to our republic today. Syck argues that Madison’s extended republic supports a theory of pluralism that naturally results in an “open” republic. By open, Syck means a diverse republic with no limitations on who can enter. Syck contrasts this with the “closed” republic of the Anti-Federalists, who argued that “small, closed, intimate societies” were the only way to preserve a regime.

Syck dismisses this idea as utopian, positing that such closed societies have never truly existed. He insists that the solution to our political disagreements today can only be found within Madison’s theory of pluralism. According to Syck, much of our current political discourse has forgotten our pluralistic roots, where Madison’s pluralism means a morally heterogeneous society built around “broad values” that otherwise “encourages diversity of thought and background”. Grafting Madison’s theory of pluralism to a moral pluralism will thus provide us a way out of our current political crisis.

Here I diverge from Dr. Syck in his conclusion that Madison’s vision of pluralism “should be extended into a moral one” where “you take people who are very different from you, people who perhaps live in ways you find personally morally repugnant, and accept them.” On the contrary: Madison’s pluralism as articulated in the Federalist is interest-based. The extended republic is an institutional mechanism meant to encompass a people well-versed in the art of self-government and sharing certain habits and beliefs, even as they disagree about public affairs. It is not intended and cannot function as a broad moral ethos.

I admit that Madison’s theory of pluralism is a subject of hot debate. Scholars like the political scientist Robert Dahl argued that Madison’s argument in the Federalist is about creating a system “the process of governmental policy-making will be so constructed that every group of a ‘significant’ size will have an opportunity to veto threatened deprivations of its freedom.” In Dahl’s estimation, Madison’s constitutional regime is merely about ambition checking ambition. Checks and balances should therefore be leveraged by increasing the amount of diversity to prevent factions from taking control. Problematically, this theory does not seem to provide a solution for securing the rights of small minorities, given Dahl’s emphasis on groups of “significant” size. But, as I posit below, this is not Madison’s argument in the Federalist.

Other scholars, such as Colleen Sheehan, think Madison’s pluralism cannot be separated from his theory of republicanism. By republicanism I mean a theory of government whereby power is drawn from the people, within a regime dedicated to the art of self-government. As Sheehan puts it, “Distinguished by the virtue of moderation, self-government is the goal sought at both the micro and macro political-ethical levels of human activity; it is the self-restraint employed by the individual in one case, and by the majority in the other, to exercise liberty within the bounds of reason and moral right.” Self-government thus implies the life of virtue at not just the broad level of government, but within the bounds of personal moral action.

Madison’s extended republic was meant to further this goal. In Sheehan’s estimation, “Madison saw in the extended territory and representative political system of the United States the potential to refine and enlarge the public views.” William F. Connelly holds a similar view on the Federalist wherein “Madison focuses on interests and deliberation as opposed to a reductionist modern pluralism, which reduces the constitutional system to interests alone.” Sheehan observes that the constitutional system proposed by Madison was “meant to shape a political milieu in which the disposition for self-government was considerably enhanced.”

Why does this matter for our view of pluralism today? Equating Madison’s theory of pluralism to moral pluralism is to miss the other part of Madison’s equation in the Federalist: namely that his theory of pluralism requires a robust republicanism. Contrary to Syck’s argument, Madison’s pluralistic formulation requires a moral consensus if it will work at all. Not only that, but the pluralistic structure of the extended republic is meant to encourage the kind of self-government present at the Founding. Any discussion of “self-government” already has baked in some weighty assumptions about right and wrong, and thus presumptions about the kind of moral life necessary to achieve such self-government.

In Federalist No. 10, Madison argues that an extended republic will “take in a greater variety of parties and interests” and thereby reduce the possibility for factions to gain national power. Bring more interests into the sphere, and you have the means for controlling the effects of faction.

One might argue that the principle of pluralism here is the same. After all, could not different cultural and moral differences be considered a different kind of “interest”? I contest that Madison’s conception of interest pluralism is entirely different from this. Madison’s formulation of interests cites geographical and economic interests, like those of manufacturers and landowners. Compromise can be reached between these interests; between groups who share fundamentally different views of human nature, compromise becomes much harder.

Reducing Madison to a mere apologist for pluralism misses his emphasis on one other important aspect of the new constitution; namely, its ability to bring forth what Madison terms the “cool voice of reason.” If we can trust the people to exercise self-government, then that same spirit must be allowed to come forth in the federal government. But if the extended republic is meant rooted in moral pluralism, how can we recognize this voice of reason? Modern liberals tell us that reaching agreement on such fundamental principles as what makes a woman is impossible. So perhaps mere toleration, where interests check each other, will have to suffice. Perhaps—but that is not Madison’s argument.

Throughout the Federalist, Madison contends that the ‘cool voice of reason’ can and will be eventually heard throughout the political process. That is why he proclaims in No. 10 that representatives will “refine and enlarge the public views.” In No. 51 he states that “In the extended republic of the United States, and among the great variety of interests, parties, and sects, which it embraces, a coalition of a majority of the whole society could seldom take place upon any other principles, than those of justice and the general good.” Most optimistically of all is his formulation in No. 55 where he critiques the Anti-Federalists, “As there is a degree of depravity in mankind…so there are other qualities in human nature, which justify a certain portion of esteem and confidence. Republican government presupposes the existence of these qualities in a higher degree than any other form.” As Greg Weiner puts it, “Publius not only trusts the people, he trusts those whom they elect.” But again, we must understand why Madison trusts the people and their elected representatives.

Consider the root of Madison’s extended republic: namely that it is drawn directly from the people themselves. The extended republic is merely part of Madison’s “inventions of prudence” meant to supplement the “primary control on the government” which is “a dependence on the people.” But this dependence is only possible because the broad group of citizens are capable of self-government, i.e. living in some manner of self-control and virtue. Governments are needed because men are not angels. But republican government is possible for America because Madison thinks the American people are capable of making decisions based on reason and choice rather than force.

Thus, pure pluralism, with no homogeneity on shared views of the best life, is not conducive for the form of government proposed by Madison. First, his pluralism is interest based as a method for both dampening the effects of faction, while also providing common space for representatives to craft good legislation in service of the public good. Secondly, because republican government is drawn directly from the people, some shared moral basis is critical. As any observers of our political sphere today will note, toleration and compromise have their limits. When differing worldviews directly clash, the open republic will have its limits, as it did in 1860. Toleration will move from indifference to moral affirmation or rejection.

Admirably, Dr. Syck is attempting to find a way for vastly differing groups in America today to bridge the divide. Any American should wish this—a house divided against itself cannot stand. To a certain extent, toleration is indeed part of Madison’s pluralistic scheme—any healthy polis requires this to flourish. Differences of opinion on policy will always be part of political life, and have been so even since the Founding.

Madison's acceptance of political contention does not negate the fact that his interest-based pluralism requires a shared moral vision to be successful. Multiple state constitutions and writings throughout the Founding all shared this sentiment. Examples from the Founding include laws on obscenity, public indecency, and blasphemy. George Washington’s First Annual Message to Congresswarned that “the security of a free constitution” depends upon “teaching the people…to discriminate the spirit of liberty from that of licentiousness—cherishing the first, avoiding the last.” Massachusetts’ 1780 Constitution declared that “the happiness of a people, and the good order and preservation of civil government, essentially depend upon piety, religion, and morality.” Pennsylvania’s constitution of 1776 reads similarly: “a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, industry, and frugality are absolutely necessary to preserve the blessings of liberty, and keep a government free.” The same constitution dictated that “Laws for the encouragement of virtue, and prevention of vice and immorality, shall be made and constantly kept in force.”

This is not an argument that the Founders were “theocratic”. The principles of the Declaration are meant to appeal to the entire human race, no matter their creed or religion. While president, Washington wrote countless letters to many religious groups, including Roman Catholics, Jews, and Quakers. Yet religious toleration required a shared moral basis upon which civil society could be built. Even a nation built on basic ideals of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness requires some limits for securing the blessings of liberty. Those limits are meant to preserve liberty by fostering citizens who can practice the art of self-government.

Syck is not wrong to identify utopian elements in “closed” republicanism. But a fully open republic might be a similarly implausible. Without a shared moral vision on the best life, can one even begin to engage in common enterprise? If citizens all have competing understandings of justice, how is it even possible for Madison’s vision of a majority coalition dedicated to justice and the general good come forth? We must therefore conclude that Madison’s theory of pluralism denotes more than just simple pluralism. It presupposes a republican order of self-governing citizens, without whom even the best mechanisms of government will fail. Perhaps the republic is one neither totally open nor closed, but somewhere in between.

Nicholas Callaghan is a doctoral candidate in politics at Hillsdale College, where he also works in External Affairs.