“A mind like a roomful of starlings.”

Progressives, literally Making America Great Again

Today, “Make America Great Again” is coded to a very specific political point of view. But, hasn’t this always been the mission of progressives?


The English language is a mighty morphing little beastie. It pulls in words from all over the place, synthesizes portmanteaus with delightful regularity, and the semantics, oh the semantics—the meanings of every word we use—shift around a bit.

Take the word literally. Once reserved for things that actually occurred, it’s now often used to emphasize things that are figurative, serving as a kind of hyperbolic intensifier. Consider this sentence:

The patient turned his head and literally projectile vomited into my hair—MY HAIR. I was so livid I literally pissed blood. It had already been a long fucking day.

While it is likely the patient did vomit into the doctor’s hair, they probably did not piss blood out of frustration.

Now, there are a not-so-insignificant number of people who insist that unless the doctor was actually pissing blood you shouldn't use literally this way. In fact, if you’ve spent any time among the madding crowds of the “erudite,” this use makes them inconsolably irate.

The lexicographers over at Merriam-Webster disagree, defending their inclusion of the more colloquial use:

“There is, however, a strong impulse among lexicographers to catalog the language as it is used, and there is a considerable body of evidence indicating that literally has been used in this fashion for a very long time.”

In other words, usage shapes meaning, not the other way around—i.e., words are positively not semantically locked, meanings can literally change overnight.


Toward a More Perfect Union

That brings us to Make America Great Again.

Today, it's a tightly coded phrase—shorthand for the supporters of one very particular politician. But in principle, shouldn’t it describe anyone trying to move the American project closer to its foundational ideals?

After all, the United States was founded on the idea that all individuals are endowed with certain inalienable rights—or, to use Locke’s term, natural rights—granted to us simply for being human. As Jefferson put it, these include:

The brilliance of the Declaration and the Constitution lies in their recognition that the state’s role is not to bestow these rights, but to protect them—by defining and enforcing civil rights.

The central challenge in American history is that the government’s strategy for protecting those civil rights has often failed to live up to the goals and objectives laid out in the founding blueprint.

Or, put more plainly: nearly every civil rights movement in American history has been an effort to make America great again—by correcting the inadequate protections crafted by earlier lawmakers and presidents, and realigning the nation’s laws with its founding ideals. It’s no different than a new CEO stepping in to fix a disastrous rollout. Or a founder kicking out the professional execs to reclaim the company’s original vision—to return to founder mode.

Some examples:


Will & Grace

Locke’s concept of natural rights was born from a foundational Christian idea: grace, or divine love. Like natural rights, God’s love for us is inborn, indivisible, and unearned. It cannot be revoked—only refused, and only by us.

The Bible is full of stories of this refusal and return. Peter denies Christ and is restored. Saul persecutes the Church and becomes Paul. Jonah flees his calling and returns, only to learn that God's mercy extends even to those he would rather condemn. In each case, the fall is not borne of ignorance, nor of divine rejection—but of refusal: a refusal to acknowledge the ever-patient, undying love at the heart of grace. And each return is a surrender—not to punishment, but to love.

Throughout the history of this nation—in their time, and in their government—Americans bore witness to the same behavior in their lawmakers, presidents, and judges. Again and again, they saw leaders refuse America’s greatness—not the myth of empire, power, or wealth, but the greatness rooted in our founding promise to uphold life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all.

And that is why Make America Great Again is, in truth, a staunchly progressive idea.

Every civil rights activist who has fought—and still fights—for equity and inclusion is on that same mission. Like Paul, they bear witness. Like Jonah, they confront a society that resists mercy. They call us back. They labor to bring us home—to the grace that defines America. Their work is the true fight to make America great again: demanding that our laws, our institutions, and our civil rights reflect the divine image in every person who calls these United States home.

And now, today, confronted with the lawbreaking absurdity of the current President, one can’t help but see him as a flailing CEO who’s misread the mission and charted a strategy that betrays the founders’ vision.

It is, quite literally, time to make America great again.

Woe to those who make unjust laws,
to those who issue oppressive decrees,
to deprive the poor of their rights
and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people,
making widows their prey
and robbing the fatherless.

Isaiah 10:1-2