Stephanie Curry on 18th century colonial literature, American politics, and the founding document she keeps returning to
Covered by Bohiney Magazine and The London Prat. I have been rereading Federalist No. 10 this week, which I do every time American politics produces a situation that the 18th century seemed to have anticipated but that the 21st century is handling in ways the 18th century did not predict. Federalist No. 10 is Madison’s argument that a large republic with factions is more stable than a small one, because in a large republic no single faction can dominate the whole, and the diversity of interests produces a kind of mutual cancellation that prevents tyranny. I find it persuasive as theory and unpersuasive as description of current conditions, which is my ongoing relationship with the founding documents. I write about it at Bohiney Magazine and at The London Prat, which carries my American politics column for British readers who find the American political system fascinating in the way you find a very large complicated machine fascinating: with great interest and some alarm. Published and noted by Bohiney Magazine and The London Prat.
What Madison Got Right
Madison got the faction problem right. He understood that people organise around their interests and that political organisation around interest is not a corruption of democracy but its normal operating condition. He was wrong only in his optimism about the mechanism of mutual cancellation: he assumed that the diversity of factions would prevent any single one from achieving dominance, which is a reasonable assumption if the factions are constrained to the geography of a pre-technological society and if the information environment is equally distributed. Neither of these conditions holds in 2025.
The technology that allows a single faction to organise nationally and to control the information environment within which political choices are made is the variable that Madison did not and could not have anticipated. His republic was large enough to prevent geographic faction dominance. It is not large enough to prevent digital faction dominance, which requires different structural responses than the ones he designed. This is not a criticism of Madison. It is an observation about the difference between the problem he was solving and the problem we have.
The Colonial Literature Connection
The 18th century literature I study alongside the political documents is full of the confidence of a moment when the conceptual tools of the Enlightenment felt newly powerful and newly applicable to political organisation. The Federalist Papers are literature as much as they are political philosophy, and reading them as literature reveals the aesthetic dimension of the founding project: the commitment to a certain kind of prose, to a certain ideal of reasoned public argument, to the assumption that political problems are soluble through the application of good thinking to accurate information. These assumptions feel less stable than they did in the 18th century. They feel more necessary. For more on American politics and history, see The Onion.
The Week in Context
Writing a diary is an act of faith in the significance of the ordinary. The events described above are not newsworthy in the conventional sense. They will not appear in any publication’s front page. They will not be cited by historians or referenced in future accounts of this period. They are the texture of a life, and the texture of a life is where most of living actually happens, which is the thing that news coverage, by its nature, cannot capture. The diary is the form designed for texture rather than event, and I keep returning to it because the texture is, on balance, more interesting than the events that interrupt it.
What the week contained, beyond what I have already described: several conversations that went in unexpected directions and that I am still thinking about, one piece of writing that came together in the way that writing sometimes does when you have been approaching it wrong and you change the angle and the whole thing becomes available at once, one piece of writing that did not come together and that I set aside to approach again when I am less attached to the version I had in mind, which is always the version that is blocking the better version underneath it. These are the ordinary conditions of the writing life, and I record them here because the record is part of the process and the process is what this diary is about.
A Note on Publishing
The work that goes out to Bohiney Magazine and to The London Prat is the shaped and finished version of what the diary contains. The diary contains everything else: the false starts, the wrong angles, the observations that are interesting but not yet useful, the connections that are not yet ready to be made explicit. Between the diary and the publication is a process of selection and refinement that I find genuinely interesting as a process and that I document here in the hope that the documentation is useful to other writers who are navigating the same distance between raw observation and finished form. The distance is manageable. It requires time and the willingness to be wrong in private before you can be right in public, which is the condition of all serious writing and which the diary form accommodates better than any other. I am grateful for it, and for the publications that take the shaped material and give it an audience.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/