Special Project: American Renewal

The second great task of renewal involves our political system, which sometimes alarmingly recalls the creeping paralysis of the Third and Fourth French republics. The goal must be once again to strengthen the presidency, to undo some of the misguided reforms that have made Congress so unmanageable, to curb the monstrous federal bureaucracy and to counter the power of single-issue constituencies. Contrary to some critics, we believe that much of this can be accomplished without major changes in the Constitution. We also see the need for revitalizing the political parties and for limited changes in our electoral system, which has been distorted by, among other factors, the questionable notion that the best thing for democracy is more democracy. These issues are examined by TIME.

As for the renewal of American power in the world, a subject also treated by TIME, it will depend on certain changes in attitude. When it has not been actively intervening, America has viewed its influence abroad as somehow automatic, simply radiating outward through the shining example of the country's strength and goodness. If this was ever true, it surely no longer is. If we Americans want to be a power in the world, we will have to pay for it—and not only in money. For example, it is difficult for a country to be taken seriously as a world power if it refuses to have a military draft in an era of obvious crisis. The U.S. needs the draft.

At the same time we must take a more balanced view of the world. We are often unrealistic in overestimating the Soviets, who have serious troubles of their own. But we are also unrealistic when we feel that any success anywhere in the world not only by the Soviets and their avowed allies but by any kind of revolutionary force is a defeat for us that should be resisted and reversed. No empire since antiquity has had that kind of power. The overwhelming predominance we enjoyed following World War II, with most of the industrialized world in ruins and America in sole possession of the atomic bomb, can never be restored. We will have to face choices about where we want to bring our power to bear.

We also must realize that military might is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for American influence. It is no substitute for intelligence, sophistication, flexibility and political action, both overt and covert. Especially in the Third World, nationalism is the most potent force, and we must try to work with it rather than against it. In general we must understand that the exercise of power is a continuous task. On the world scene, as perhaps in life, there are no permanent solutions or victories. To win means to stay committed, and to maneuver.

Success in all this depends on renewal in the realm of intellect and spirit. It requires maintaining our already contested lead in science and technology and developing a many-sided energy policy not hampered by, among other things, hysterical fears of nuclear power. These topics are examined in DISCOVER. Success also requires a nation that is far better educated than we are now, a problem addressed in LIFE. We must recover a view of education beyond a certain point, not as a right, but as a privilege. Education must no longer be regarded as painless but as an enterprise in which intelligence, talent, effort and discipline are prized rather than devalued, as they are now. Examining the elusive topic of the country's moral fiber, SPORTS ILLUSTRATED looks at competition in America and its importance not only in sports but in all areas of life. PEOPLE takes up the forces battering the American family, as well as the deep needs that keep it together. PEOPLE also looks at the role that can be played by volunteers, as shown by individuals whose unselfish work has made a real difference in their communities.

Despite the heartening example of such commitments, we face a crisis of moral responsibility, which is considered by TIME. Many people are either unwilling to take up their responsibilities or unable to discern what they are. Our society as a whole is not only without an effective religious ethic; its codes of secular morality are in tatters. It is hard to imagine a plan of action, a practical program, for a moral revival. We can preach and listen to preachers; we can try to do good ourselves and organize good works; we can, and should, reexamine the philosophical source of our laxness. But in the end, we will undoubtedly find that a resurgence of values will not be brought about by moralizing vigilantes, by legislation or constitutional amendment. A respect for authority, a sense of duty and a degree of self-restraint—these will never be restored in a society that has slipped too far. But in a society like ours that still has great reservoirs of sound moral strength, they will be restored almost mysteriously, through natural growth, as a result of millions of individual decisions and efforts. There is much evidence that, in reaction against the permissive excesses of the '60s and '70s, people (especially the young) have begun to rediscover a desperate need for standards, and that the self-worship of the "me decade" is giving way to a new sense of mutual support.

The problems of race remain a standing reproach to American morality. Tremendous progress has been made during recent decades in stamping out discrimination, but economically troubled times always reveal its lingering presence. The fight against it must continue, and so must a measure of "affirmative action," preferably without the excesses of government bureaucracy. Anything less would badly tarnish an American Renewal.

One of the greatest falsehoods spread in recent years is that people are powerless. Far from it. We have seen the advance of a breathtaking series of organized causes, from the environmental movement, which became a major force in less than a generation, to women's rights and the anti-abortion campaign. In fact, far too much effort is expended on single issues. They may or may not be worthy in themselves. The point is that these crusades downgrade or ignore overriding national issues and ultimately the broad national interest. It happens partly because people are uncertain as to just what the national interest is, and so these narrow causes become their substitute communities, their homes.

Yet the success of these drives has demonstrated that we have an ability unmatched in any other modern democracy to organize for the reshaping of society. The crucial task now is to restrain this capacity and guide it toward broader issues so as to make possible at least a measure of consensus and unity.

The Founding Fathers recognized and denounced the "spirit of faction." That spirit has always existed in our highly contentious nation; the broad consensus that supposedly prevailed in earlier days is largely a nostalgic illusion. We will never turn into a republic of virtue, animated by perfect brotherhood. We are too large, too varied, too free and too human for that. But in the past at least we usually managed to rule ourselves through rough accommodation, based on the recognition that while I may subdue my neighbor on one issue today, he may subdue me on another tomorrow. The Founders thought of this as civic virtue, as self-interest rightly understood. That is what we must retrieve.