Dirk’s Notes, The Summer of 1787: The Men Who Invented the Constitution

“Dirk’s Notes” captures and shares insights and interesting bits I draw from the books I read. Thanks to the magic of e-readers I am not only reading more but preserving my thoughts in the process. These segments will give you a summation of the book while sharing my personal explorations through and extrapolations of the content.

The Summer of 1787: The Men Who Invented the Constitution by David O. Stewart is a skillfully written account of the United States Constitutional Convention, along with some build-up and aftermath. It reads quickly and, at least for this history buff, spins a compelling narrative as it chronologically makes its way thru the events that congealed the United States into a viable and sustainable entity that, in less than two centuries, would become the dominant superpower of the world. While the participants may not have imagined what the United States would become they were certainly self-aware as delegate George Mason, in a letter to his eldest son, reflects:

“The influence which the (government) now proposed may have upon the happiness or misery of millions yet unborn, is an object of such magnitude, as absorbs, and in a manner suspends the operations of human understanding.”

The particulars and even the more general framing of the Constitutional Convention was largely new to me, making this book a journey of discovery that made me hungry for more information. Here are the themes I found interesting:

The infamous “three-fifths compromise” was the direct product of this Constitutional Convention, and all of the better-known participants were complicit in ultimately passing it

The primary narrative of the book revolves around the process of and thinking behind the compromises made that resulted in slavery becoming a part of our very Constitution. After reading this book, other sources, and giving the matter due consideration, I believe such an agreement was the only way a successful Constitution could be ratified and the United States fully empowered as a sovereign nation. That is, I see it as a necessary evil and in some objective strategic sense it was a “correct” if morally inexcusable decision for those men, at that moment, facing the things that they faced. Would there be a United States today without it? I doubt it. Thus while I find it difficult to thus celebrate the Constitution in total I cannot disparage the compromisers for their decision.

More telling is how they lived their lives. Some of those who agreed to the compromise had already freed their own slaves, or most of their slaves. Others later freed their slaves, either in life or upon death. Still others participated in slavery through their lives and in generations of their descendents to follow The whole thing is complicated, twisted, fascinating and really the compelling narrative of the U.S. Constitutional Convention.

The infamous three-fifth clause was proposed by James Wilson of Pennsylvania and seconded by General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney (one of two Charles Pinckney’s from South Carolina at the Convention, both first cousins; the General was the less impactful of the two on these proceedings), is below. The clause seems so bizarre today, and is so illogical by any measure of context, precisely because it was a political compromise. It had no bearing in logic or principle, it was all about both sides getting something that they wanted but would not otherwise relinquish:

“(e)quitable ratio of representation in proportion to the whole number of white & other free Citizens & inhabitants…and three-fifths of all other persons not comprehended in the foregoing description, except Indians not paying taxes…”

Here is some of its genesis:

“As reflected in the debates on Monday, June 11, (Pennsylvanian James) Wilson cut a deal with the South Carolinians. He and John Rutledge yoked the democratic principle of equal representation to the southerners’ need to protect slavery. To secure representation in Congress based on population, Wilson embraced the fiction that southern slaves should be partly represented. Though Wilson made the deal to establish democracy, future abolitionists would denounce his Faustian bargain as a central feature of the Constitution’s ‘covenant with death’.”

Critically, the deep southern slave states (Georgia and the Carolinas) were also small states. The biggest issues for those states were preserving slavery, keeping some real degree of state autonomy, and achieving strong representation within a central government. In the existing – if toothless – U.S. government there was a tradition of “one state, one vote”. The more politically broad-minded participants knew this was an untenable model, particularly as the country continued expanding beyond 13 states. The three-fifths compromise was intentionally designed to bring the deep southern states on board with undesirable (to them) provisions like more balanced federal representation and some diffusion of state’s rights. It was an eminently practical – if chillingly inhumane – trade, continuing to sacrifice the rights of current and future slaves for calculated political gain. This certainly appears the only way the “one state, one vote” legacy could have been possibly overcome.

James Madison as much as any participant reflects this transitional moment in the ugly history of slavery. If any one man could be considered the father of the U.S. Constitution it was Madison: his research and ideas formed the basis of the Virginia Plan, the first of five comprehensive plans proposed to the Convention and the one which framed the conversation thereafter. He was also the secretary, documenting much of the proceedings in copious detail. Madison’s own inconstancy of words and actions highlight how the roots of slavery still ran much deeper than the pure ideological principles. From Madison, early-ish in the Convention:

“Where slavery exists the republican theory becomes still more fallacious.”

Sounds very principled. Yet, the author adds:

“Early in his career Madison wrote Randolph that he wanted ‘to depend as little as possible on the labor of slaves,’ a goal he never achieved and which he seems to have abandoned later.”

Like all of us, Madison is vulnerable to the comfort of a well-worn groove, eventually substituting principle for comfortable reality. He also ratified the three-fifths compromise, in stark contrast to his claim that doing so would necessarily make “republican theory…still more fallacious.”

On the other hand, some of the delegates fought for their principles, disagreeing with the three-fifths compromise while in some cases signing and in others failing to sign the final Constitution. An exceptional, even beautiful in both structure and prose, argument against enabling slavery via the Constitution, by Gouverneur (his first name, not an actual Governor) Morris:

“(T)he inhabitant of Georgia and South Carolina who goes to the Coast of Africa, and in defiance of the most sacred laws of humanity tears away his fellow creatures from their dearest connections and damns them to the most cruel of bondages, shall have more votes in a government instituted for protection of the rights of mankind, than the citizens of Pennsylvania or New Jersey who views with a laudable horror so nefarious a practice.”

Morris’ purity of logic could only fail to politics.

Ultimately, I think the complexity of the issue is best captured by the First Citizen himself, George Washington. Washington inherited slaves upon his father’s death as an 11-year old. While he showed no particular anti-slavery leaning for much of his life, owning over 100 slaves along with his wife, by the end of the Revolutionary War he had privately shared a passion for abolitionism with close friends and colleagues. A stoic participant during the Constitutional Convention, Washington did not take a public stand against slavery and his Virginia delegation consistently voted on behalf of provisions that continued slavery. While perhaps silent on the three-fifths compromise during these proceedings, his life choices reflected his personal beliefs very clearly. From the author:

“In the summer of 1799, Washington wrote his will. He directed that his slaves be given their freedom. Because they were intermarried with his wife’s slaves, whom he could not release from bondage, he specified that his slaves be released upon his wife’s death. He directed his estate to support freed slaves who were too old to work and to pay to educate the others. Within two years of his death, all the slaves at Mount Vernon – his and his wife’s – had their freedom. The nation would not follow his example for another sixty years.”

The fact that Washington himself could not convince his wife of the rightness of abolitionism bespeaks the intractable political situation that faced those men at that time.

The final point about slavery and the three-fifths compromise I want to make has to do with the view of future generations of Americans – particularly those embroiled in the U.S. Civil War – as well as scholars and armchair quarterbacks of modernity:

“Others counter that the northern delegates caved in too easily to implausible southern threats to abandon the Union. Georgia had the Creek Confederacy at its back and the Spanish next door. South Carolina was in dire economic distress, dependent on external markets for its rice and indigo. Those states could not have stood on their own any more than Delaware or Rhode Island could have. Perhaps outright abolition was not feasible, but why make the slave system even stronger by extending the slave trade and using the three-fifths ratio to increase the political power of slavery?”

While the threat not to ratify may have been literally untenable, centuries of status quo history on the slavery issue may have made the issue in general and the threat in particular appear more intractable than they really were. While I’m sure we all abhor the continued practice of slavery enabled by the U.S. Constitution it is pure ignorance and even hubris to second-guess from our very different historical vantage point. Slavery was a centuries-old institution at that time, and using the U.S. Constitution as the testbed for forced abolitionism in light of needing to congeal 13 disparate state perspectives on myriad issues would have been impossible. While I am far from starry-eyed about the Founding Fathers I do at least concede them this bit of grace.

The Constitutional Convention is the ultimate “proof” that good decision making in general, and good politics in particular, should allow and even encourage participants to learn more and freely change their mind

This was the biggest personal revelation for me. In modern politics, politicians who change their mind are called “wafflers” or “wishy-washy”. It is a very black-and-white thing: those who take a stand and stick with it are trusted and celebrated for their consistency, while those who change perspectives – sometimes drastically so – are castigated. This ranges from the small scale of changing one’s mind on individual issues to a larger scale where a politician even changes parties. Poor Joseph Lieberman discovered this in the form of mockery and insult in and around the 2008 elections. One would have thought he was a modern-day Benedict Arnold, so unforgiving was much of the rhetoric.

Many contemporary Americans point to the Founding Fathers and their Constitution as some objective and correct truth, frozen in time. Yet, those same people are often the ones who do not permit a thoughtful person to change their mind on an important issue, seeing it as the height of political pandering and unreliability. This has never sat well with me, because I find that my own positions on issues change over the years. Unlike politicians, there is no public gain or opportunity for me in changing: it is a sober process of learning more about the world and issues and viewing the topic in a different light. I’ve always felt this was a good thing, yet have had no small amount of self-doubt thanks to the criticism heaped on the political “wafflers” out there. Perhaps my failure to see one bright and shining light that never wavers bespeaks some defect of character.

So it was that I was surprised and delighted to learn that the Founding Fathers – the men of marble sculpture and unmoving portraiture – deeply recognized, appreciated and valued the importance of allowing participants in the democratic process to change their mind.

The entirety of the Constitutional Convention had at its center a process of discussion, and re-discussion, and re-discussion. In the book there were many examples of the Founding Fathers changing their minds on issues, sometimes many times. Allowing for this was formal and procedural. From the author:

“The second added rule specified that delegates could demand reconsideration of every decision the Convention made. Through the coming months delegates would employ this procedure with exasperating frequency. Difficult questions were never resolved in a single discussion and vote. They came up again and again, even after they apparently had been decided. Variations would be offered on earlier proposals, new and old arguments mustered. Often the previous outcome would hold, but every now and then alliances shifted and the constitutional structure changed. This practice gave the Convention a looping, repetitive quality, but – combined with the rule of secrecy – allowed the delegates to revise their views upon wider consultation and deeper reflection, a luxury both precious and not often afforded to public officials, even in the slower pace of the eighteenth century.”

It is clear from Stewart’s analysis that reflection and the opportunity to change positions was valued, even treasured, yet often was not given space in the political process. Here at the Constitutional Convention, when the details were most important, the crafters of the event ensured such space and consideration would be amply given.

Also, here is an exceptional quote from Benjamin Franklin. The context here is that, near the end of the Constitutional Convention, Franklin was trying to endorse the delegates voting for and advocating the Constitution, despite their individually not agreeing with all of it. This moment was Franklin’s most important of the Convention, perhaps pushing some delegates over the brink to not just sign but endorse and sell the Constitution to their state constituencies:

“There are several parts of this Constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them. … I doubt too whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better Constitution. … It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does; and I think it will astonish our enemies…”

and

“by better information or fuller consideration to change opinions…which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore the older I grow, the more apt to doubt my own judgement, and to pay more respect to the judgement of others.”

Arguably the wisest of all Amercians, Franklin here asserts that as his wisdom increases, so does his thoughtfulness and flexibility.

All evidence suggests the Founding Fathers would not tolerate the slow, inefficient, broken government that the United States has evolved into

It would seem apparent that we have badly bungled our country and government. Filthy public water supplies, smoggy atmospheres, shocking bureaucracy, slow inefficient and expensive government, perilous financial infrastructure, increasing polarization between haves and have-nots…our country is a mess. My disgusted exclamations that I would move to Canada during George W. Bush’s regime have been replaced by a more sober researching of where else to move: New Zealand? Germany? Norway? Denmark?

The Great Experiment must be considered a success relative to what came before it, but in the context of the rest of the world and how other governments and countries are functioning presently, we are far from the cutting edge of being a modern and healthy democracy.

Thomas Jefferson wrote of the American Revolution:

“God forbid we should ever be 20 years without such a rebellion. The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants; it is its natural manure.”

That is a powerful statement. Stipulating for a moment that Jefferson was not advocating full revolution or anarchy every “score” of years, at a minimum he is communicating a philosophical belief in an informed and active citizenry, one that is willing, able and actual does take up arms against their leadership when things have twisted out of control. Indeed, even if he disagreed with the reasons for it, I suspect were Jefferson alive during the U.S. Civil War he would have wholeheartedly supported the right and choice of the southern states to rebel against the federal government and, by association, the northern states.

Yet, can you imagine talk of a revolution today? Or any sort of committed anti-government opposition crossing partisan lines, thus forging meaningful and united dissent against the powers-that-be? Between the disgusting and even foolish partisan politics of the moment, and the lack of conviction and political vision to advocate truly meaningful change, there is no possibility of an essential revolution on the horizon, one which Jefferson would certainly be shocked to realize has not materialized in the almost 200 years since his death.

The difference between the political mindset of the Founding Fathers, and their view of the dynamic role between a citizenry and its government, bears no resemblance to the obese, gluttonous and lethargic government we are saddled with today, much less the passivity and lack of real and meaningful vision or will for imposing change by our largely uninformed citizenry.

There is ample evidence to suggest that the government forged in 1787 was a product of its time and is, today, in many ways obsolete

Indeed, it was nearly obsolete the moment it was executed. Edmund Randolph, George Mason and Elbridge Gerry refused to sign and insisted that a Bill of Rights be included. The Bill of Rights were introduced by James Madison just over two years later, and ratified less than two years after that. Stewart even suggests that the Bill of Rights was only excluded from the original Constitution because the subject was brought up late in the process and the delegates, suffering from fatigue and seeing their difficult process almost complete, did not want to open a new topic that would add weeks or perhaps months to their task. Thus, the Founding Fathers themselves knew their Constitution was incomplete and flawed from its first moment. That is only the beginning of its issues and, most specifically, the opportunity for improving how we structure our government today.

Organizing the original United States around distinct and sovereign states was a legacy constraint and not an preferred condition. There was no opportunity to further reduce or even eliminate the somewhat artificial designations of the different states, because they were a pre-existing condition with vested stakeholders. The Constitution was thus saddled with that structure without even the opportunity to question, much less change, it.

This begs the question, should we be organized as states? In this day and age perhaps we should think digitally: create separate organizing groups around more contemporary similarity and difference such as urban vs. rural, laborers vs. knowledge workers, or some other more meaningful distinction. The will, desires, preferences and expectations of people within the same arbitrary geographic bucket vary wildly. Whether the path your state takes reflects your will as an individual is almost random: if liberal, and your state is more urban, you probably enjoy more representative government. If conservative, and your state is more rural, you likely have a representative government that aligns with your own preferences. It is simply a matter of luck.

The will of the small states, wanting to protect their equal representation in the legacy Continental Congress, had a huge impact on the crafting of the Constitution. This produced many fixes and compromises which were broken then and continue to compromise a truly representational government today. Here is one example:

“In the 2004 election, for example, California received one electoral vote for each of its representatives and senators, or 55 electoral votes. With Californians casting over 12.4 million votes for president, each of California’s electoral votes represented about 225,000 voters. Alaska had only three electoral votes that year (one representative and two senators). With only 312,000 Alaskans voting, the state cast one electoral vote for every 104,000 Alaskans who voted. Each Alaskan’s vote carried more than twice the weight of a Californian’s.”

That’s just foolish. It also explains with perfect clarity why, sometimes, the electoral college “elects” a President who does not garner a majority of the popular vote, giving small states more proportional power than large. It is broken and illogical; it should be changed. Not the product of deep consideration and careful planning, it is simply a compromise designed to sate the vested interests of political stakeholders.

Here is another example from Stewart behind the rationale of the electoral system, reasons and justification that are laughable in the digital age:

“The delegates adopted the elector system in 1787 because of the physical barriers to conducting a nationwide election for president. Fearing the voters would not have access to information about the candidates, they could not imagine the logistics of taking a national ballot. Two hundred and twenty years later, those reasons against popular election of the president no longer apply.”

There were some suggestions at the Constitutional Convention that were not employed which strike me as improvements and would have relevance even today. The author:

“Pennsylvania used a more complicated method, having the people vote for members of an Executive Council, with the Assembly selecting a president from that council.”

This feels like an improvement over our current process: the will of the people dictate the group, then the group – more humanly understanding that individual – agree on the leader. It may help reduce choosing our most important leader from a process of soundbites and “who has the higher media budget” to one of more thoughtful and balanced human decision making. There are certainly downsides to that approach, as captured by Morris:

“Congressional selection, he insisted, ‘will be the work of intrigue, of cabal, and of faction: it will be like the election of a pope by a conclave of cardinals; real merit will rarely be the title to the appointment.’”

Certainly this has proven true and is perhaps even universal in the acquisition of power across cultures and epochs. That is, regardless of structure, it is almost inevitable that power will ultimately be given or taken away by small groups of privileged people, either by wealth or ancestry or religion or some other ultimately arbitrary method.

Here was another interesting proposal for how to pick a President:

“John Dickinson of Delaware stepped forward with an idea for addressing the information problem: each state’s voters could name a ‘favorite son’ for president, since they would know the men in their own state; then Congress or electors could select from among those thirteen choices.”

Again, what I like about this method is that there is a closer human touch around the participants: those who know them best politically promote them as exemplars to be considered, and by definition they should be choosing someone who has the character to be chosen from among 49 others.

While respectful to the Founding Fathers, Stewart is not reverential. His anecdotes remind us these are mere men facing an extraordinary moment and task. This makes for better reading and puts the Constitution and its architects in a balanced historical light

The author is careful to reinforce the very human scale of this momentous event:

“The seating was intimate, close enough for the delegates to inspect each other’s faces and gestures. It did not take a strong voice to be heard through the chamber. Though what they said was a closely guarded secret, their meetings could hardly have been more conspicuous, occupying the largest room in the most prominent building in the nation’s most populous city. Passerby could see the delegates through the large windows that lined either side of the East Room.”

The Constitutional Convention was highly political and perhaps relied on the self-exclusion of more radical politicians in order to achieve success. From the author:

“The absence of states’ rights advocates like Samuel Adams of Massachusetts and Patrick Henry of Virginia (who said he ‘smelt a rat’ in the call to the Convention) would make consensus easier to reach.”

This was not some golden collection of specific, legendary individuals: it was a political assemblage, people chosen for reasons of every sort. Some of the best and most important voices were absent, and at least some of those because they did not trust in this process.

The commencement of proceedings really began with the presentation of the Virginia Plan, the first of what eventually became five formal plans put forth to frame the issue of the new Constitution. Clearly, the delegates were a bit intimidated with the gravitas of their charter:

“The delegates were slow to engage on the issues that morning. When the Virginia Plan’s first three resolutions were read, the room was deadly still. Seconds ticked by. Then a minute. Then more. After the time had lengthened uncomfortably, George Wythe said archly that he ‘presume(d) from the silence of the house’ that the delegates were ready to vote. Tentatively, the delegates began to find their voices.”

Even the so-called ‘great men’ were mere mortals with self-consciousness and uncertainty in a potentially unsafe space. Later, the author wrote humourously about one of James Madison’s proposals for the Senate:

“Ever the constitutional tinkerer, Madison proposed a confusing solution: Have the states’ voting power in the Senate vary according to the subject matter before them. ‘In all cases where the general government is to act on the people, let…the votes be proportional. In all cases where the government is to act on the states as such,…let the states be represented and the votes be equal.’ The man was tired.”

The author also pointed out some of the oddly biased, prejudicial, ignorant and just plain fearful attitudes among the participants:

“Some of the delegates feared westerners, portraying them as a cross between Vandals and beasts of the forest. These easterners dreaded the day when such wild creatures would outnumber the civilized residents of the thirteen states.”

Yes, even the Founding Fathers fear and negatively objectify the “other”, seeing them simply as “Auslanders” whom they could not imagine dealing productively with, much less empathizing or otherwise viewing in a more balanced and appropriate way. This is a recurrent pattern in human history and the sort of mentality that underlies many of the most heinous of human wrongs.

In a similar light, many of the delegates had grave concerns about allowing citizens to vote for their own representation. It is objectively interesting but particularly as another counter-point to the fantasy of this greatness and clarity in these men. The author about Roger Sherman:

“Though of humble origins himself, Sherman of Connecticut urged that the people ‘should have as little to do as may be about the government,’ since ‘they want information and are constantly liable to be misled.’”

Not that I fully disagree with this opinion, but it continues to undermine the notion of our Founding Fathers as some sort of perfectly wise and informed authors of democracy. They had odd ideas, as well as beliefs such as this which run counter to the tenets of democracy.

George Washington and Benjamin Franklin were present but their impact was more symbolic; neither was a primary author of the Constitution

Still, they are two of the more interesting actors in this drama despite their lack of participation, and I found a number of bits about each interesting.

George Washington, whom the author is not shy in suggesting is intellectually less capable than the other delegates, essentially served as the figurehead of the event, presiding over it as the First Citizen and most respected American. However, there were a couple of moments where Washington used his position to secure points he believed in. Here was a funny one:

“After scoring with his ribaldry, (Elbridge) Gerry demanded that any standing army be limited to 3,000 men, a demand that brought a riposte from an unlikely source. The sober George Washington, it turned out, was paying attention. The General suggested in an aside that Gerry’s motion should be matched with a provision that ‘no foreign enemy should invade the United States at any time with more than three thousand troops.’ Thus deflated from the presiding chair, Gerry lost the argument.”

I found the descriptions of Benjamin Franklin very interesting. A grizzled man in his 80′s, Franklin allowed James Wilson to read his written statements to the Convention, in order to preserve his strength. His contributions were consistent attempts to find common ground between debaters and convince others to accept points they disagreed with for the greater good. While not the only one taking this approach, it would be fair to call him the wise, old man of the proceedings.

In a more general sense I also found interesting Franklin’s keen attention to personal branding and positioning:

“When attending diplomatic soirees in Paris, his theatrical instincts had draped him in homespun and crowned him with fur caps. Now he challenged American rusticity by traveling in a glass-windowed sedan chair from France, borne by four husky prisoners from the nearby Walnut Street jail. As Dr. Franklin progressed through Philadelphia’s republican streets, his regal trappings drove home the message that honor in America grew from talent, not birth. Yet the swaying procession also must have brought a smile to those it passed, and to the doctor himself.”

John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, two of the most important figures in the years from pre-Revolution through the War of 1812, did not participate in the Constitutional Convention

While no great intrigue – they were representing the United States diplomatically at the time in Great Britain and France, respectively – I did not remember that neither man played a direct role in authoring the U.S. Constitution. Both men died on July 4 – Independence Day – 1826. What an interesting and important date in U.S. history.

Alexander Hamilton was an insignificant participant, despite legend to the contrary

It was fascinating to learn in this book that Alexander Hamilton, one of the youngest men at the Convention and recognized by those present as one of the brightest and most talented, attempted to seize control of the proceedings with a day-long oratory of his Plan that was poorly conceived, delivered and timed. Hamilton was one of three delegates from New York State, and the other two opposed the strong Federal government which Hamilton condoned. Thus he was consistently out-voted by his New York colleagues – each state got only one vote – and even when his antagonists left he had no voice to vote as at least two delegates were required to be present in order for a state to vote.

Hamilton would have virtually no impact on the Convention relative to the major players, yet at the end was still part of the prestigious Committee of Style, owing to his talent and connections. Indeed, he even left for long periods of time, which few of the key players did.

Spain had a great deal of impact and influence over the fledgling United States

As Spain was a power in steep decline by the late 18th century, I had no idea this was the case. Two anecdotes from Stewart’s books reflect Spain’s truly meaningful influence over contemporary U.S. affairs:

“To establish an American currency in 1785, the Confederation Congress adopted the dollar – initially a Spanish currency – but what was its value?”

This also alludes to interesting issues of economic theory, and the complexity that goes into the valuation of a national currency. Still, just the basic point that it was a Spanish currency that the United States chose as their model was fascinating.

Also from the author:

“Georgia, a frontier community with only 50,000 souls, was waging war against the Creek Indians, with neither notable success nor any involvement of Congress. Martial law prevailed in the state, and Spain (which held Florida) was suspected of arming the Creeks….More serious, Spain allowed no American trade through its port in New Orleans, crippling the trade of western settlers who had to ship their goods down the Mississippi River.”

Nothing particularly Earth-shattering there, but it was informative to this reader.

Real, practical life-lessons to be taken from the Founding Fathers

Of all the wisdom to be taken from the Founding Fathers in this book I found their insistence on work-life balance to be among the most refreshing and truly interesting. From the author:

“The Convention met from ten until three. For a short period in August, the hard-driving John Rutledge shamed his colleagues into working an extra hour in the afternoon, but after only a few days a revolt restored the previous schedule. After their second meal of the day (‘dinner’), the delegates could sample what diversions Philadelphia might offer for the evening, or they could scheme and prepare for the next day’s session. Bedtime followed a late supper.”

It is interesting to note their conception of a legislative workday and work-life balance. A five hour workday!!! I love the notion of keeping the formal workday at that length, thus allowing some to carry forward at night while others had the freedom to recharge and do as they would. It is also consistent with my own life experience: I love going in to work on the weekend for 4-5 hours. It is invigorating and my productivity is very high. Yet, on the normal 8-10 workday it is the opposite. It is too long; time is lost to recuperating and “dealing” with the duration. Why not seven days a week at five hours each? I suspect we would get more done and have a better quality of life.

Roger Sherman has a quote of succinct wisdom:

“When you are in a minority, talk; when you are in a majority, vote.”

Of course, Stewart pointed out he did not always follow his own axiom – to his ostensible detriment.

The author wrote at length about the deliberate, well-prepared nature of James Madison, who was essentially the backbone of the proceedings. He arrived days ahead of the Convention; his preparation and study had begun weeks or even months earlier than that. In the process he earned the respect of his peers, was elevated to a role of importance and trust, enjoyed an exceptional political career, and became our fourth President.

Considering this model led me to ask myself, “Could I be truly exceptional if I slowed down and focused on proper preparation?” I have always put in as little preparation as possible in the things I do, flying from one thing to the next. Content to put in 20% of the effort to get 80% of the result. What if my process were different? What if I could resemble Madison and replace quantity with quality? It is an interesting course of thought for someone who perpetually feels stretched too thin and never quite delivering what I feel capable of.