This past week, Executive Director Nancy Petitto and Director of Communications Steve Smith were in Boston to meet with national partners working to strengthen American democracy. A day after the gathering, Steve, who happens to be a descendant of Founder and President John Adams, visited Adams’ homes in nearby Quincy. That got him wondering: What would our first vice president – and our second president – make of the United States today, nearly 200 years after his death on July 4, 1826? So, we put the question to a Large Language Model, an AI trained to take on different voices, asking it to channel the thoughts of our nation’s second president. Here’s how that conversation went.

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CIVIC NEBRASKA: Hello, Mr. President. It’s been an eternity! Before we begin, we wanted to let you know that we recently had the opportunity to tour Peacefield, where you and your family spent your retirement years, as well as your birthplace and your first home a few miles down the road in Quincy. You’ll be glad to know that all three houses still stand, and they’re largely in their original state, thanks to the community’s advocacy and the federal government’s diligent preservation efforts. Do you have any specific memories that come to mind when you think about Peacefield?

ADAMS: Ah, Peacefield. My family seat, my library, my retreat from the storms of public life. I’m gladdened beyond measure to hear it endures. There, I found solace in my books, my family, and my orchard. I remember planting rows of fruit trees and pondering whether the Republic I helped build would last long enough to see them bear fruit. Peacefield was where I corresponded with Jefferson in our later years, our pens having become mightier than our swords. It was a place of reflection, where I measured my life by virtue, service, and constancy. That it has been preserved tells me that your generation still understands the weight of legacy.

CN: Somewhat, sir. Many things have changed in America in the nearly 200 years since you shuffled off your mortal coil. Our once-coastal Republic is now a 50-state, global power that spans the North American continent. It has also stood as a beacon of freedom to the rest of the world. The Constitution that you and the other Framers wrote is still in use, though it has been amended 17 times since it, along with the original Bill of Rights, was ratified during your time. Does this surprise you? You were known to have your doubts that the United States would survive your lifetime.

ADAMS: Surprise? It astonishes me. I was never a man given to optimism without cause. I feared factions would undo us, that avarice and ambition would devour our experiment. The passions of men are fierce, and the architecture of a republic is delicate. Yet to hear that the Constitution still stands, amended but intact, fills me with an awe that borders on reverence. That parchment was never meant to be perfect; it was meant to be enduring. That it’s been amended to bring more Americans the fruits of liberty is a sign of life and evidence that the people, in their sovereign wisdom, still possess the means to adjust the sails without abandoning the ship.

CN: Looking at today’s world, and based on your experiences as our 18th-century vice president and later president, and then a senior statesman in the 19th century, what would you say are the top contemporary challenges for the United States? The world has changed a lot since your time, of course, but do you see modern similarities to what our young nation faced upon its founding?

ADAMS: Most certainly. The challenges of liberty and equality never leave the stage; they merely wear new costumes. I see now a Republic burdened by inequality, disinformation, and apathy – a perilous combination. In my day, we feared monarchy; today, you must guard against oligarchy, or power consolidated in wealth, media, and narrow interests. I also see that public virtue is in short supply. A republic requires more than elections; it demands education, civic spirit, and sacrifice. The tyranny of the majority that I warned against has taken new forms, and self-government is often mistaken for self-interest. And yet, the tools to combat these ills – reason, law, conscience – remain well within your reach.

CN: Many of your fellow Founders were deeply suspicious of entrenched political factions or parties. Today, there are still many factions across our land and in Washington, D.C., but they are clustered within a two-party system that is often blamed for gridlock, conflict, performative politicking, and rigid, lockstep partisanship. Can the Founders’ original intent of the Constitution be fully realized in such a partisan environment? It strikes us that we’ve largely ceded our self-government to the two political parties.

ADAMS: Parties are, in some measure, inevitable. As long as there is liberty, there shall be disagreement. Yet I feared then, as I do now, the corrosion that occurs when party becomes tribe, and principle becomes performance. The Constitution was never written to be a tool of the parties. It was designed to channel ambition through structure, to elevate deliberation over domination. You are right to be wary. When the machinery of government is driven by conquest, when office is pursued for spoils and not service, the spirit of republicanism wanes. Reform may be necessary, perhaps in how votes are cast, how districts are drawn, and how debates are held. But the deeper repair must be moral: A reawakening of civic duty over party loyalty.

CN: While Jefferson is credited as the author of the Declaration, you had a hand in its drafting, along with Benjamin Franklin and others. In the nearly 250 years since it was published, many groups of Americans who were seen as second-class citizens – or not fully worthy of human rights – have called the Declaration’s bluff and claimed its central assertion: That we are all created equal, and are entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Enslaved peoples, Native tribes, and women in America are among those who have gained new rights and responsibilities since your day. Your wife, Abigail, was an early feminist and abolitionist; what would she have made of this?

ADAMS: She would have stood and applauded — and then demanded someone dare explain what took so long. Abigail saw the contradiction even then, when the ink was barely dry on the parchment. She wrote to me, as you may know, to “remember the ladies,” warning that if particular care were not paid to women, they too would foment rebellion. She was not jesting.

She believed, as I did, that the ideals we laid down in 1776 were not fully realized in our time, but they were seeds. She would be heartened to see those seeds taken root, though impatient still for the harvest. Abigail would have said that a republic cannot claim greatness if it denies dignity to half its people—or any portion of them.

We both knew that the phrase “all men are created equal” was more promise than practice in our day. But we hoped that future generations would rise to meet its full measure. The fact that Americans of every kind have insisted on holding the nation to its word. That is no bluff; that is the truest form of patriotism. And Abigail, I am certain, would say: keep going. There is still more justice to be done.

CN: On the topic of justice, let’s discuss separation of powers. Some Americans believe that the Supreme Court, since its inception, has accumulated too much power and control over our lives. Others feel that the office of the president has also become too much of the “central ring” of our three-ring federal circus. As a Federalist back in your day, you advocated for a strong central government as well as a powerful executive. And yet, as a lawyer, you famously said you wanted to build a republic of laws, not of men. So, my question: How are we doing in 21st-century America? Are we living up to your vision, or do we need serious reform?

ADAMS: I did indeed argue for a strong central government, which was necessary to secure liberty in my time. Yet, I also believed that unchecked power, whether judicial, executive, or legislative, would corrupt absolutely. “A republic of laws, not of men” remains the true north of a free society. When the Court becomes a super-legislature or the presidency grows imperial, you stray from that compass. I do not oppose vigor in the executive, nor do I oppose judgment in the judiciary. But both must be tethered to the Constitution, and both must answer, ultimately, to the people through their representatives, through free press, and through lawful dissent. 

Reform? Perhaps. But what is needed even more is vigilance, for eternal vigilance is still the price of liberty. Laws must rule, and those who make or interpret them must remember they are but stewards of the people’s trust.

CN: When you successfully defended the Redcoats who were involved in the Boston Massacre, you popularized the phrase “Facts are stubborn things.” Today, everyone has their own digital printing presses, and an almost inconceivable amount of information is added to the internet daily – everything from social media posts and emails to streaming videos and websites. Much of this content is not based on fact. We modern Americans refer to this content, when weaponized, as “disinformation.” Did you encounter a similar situation back in your day? And if so, what is your advice to modern Americans who increasingly feel like they just don’t know what to believe when they see it?

ADAMS: Ah, yes – facts are indeed stubborn things. I said so in the courtroom, and I meant it in my soul. In my time, we had broadsheets and pamphlets instead of screens and scrolls, but let me assure you, we had our share of falsehoods. Political opponents impugned my character, fabricated words I never spoke, and accused me of monarchism and treachery. The press of my day could be as scurrilous as any Twitter feed, and just as unaccountable. What you call “disinformation,” we called sedition or slander, depending on whose ox was gored. But the danger remains the same: When truth becomes optional, tyranny becomes inevitable.

My advice to your generation? Be as I was in that Boston courtroom: Disciplined in evidence, skeptical of passion masquerading as fact, and loyal only to the truth, not to factions. Encourage a culture of inquiry over indignation. Elevate voices that clarify rather than inflame. And above all, educate your citizens. A republic cannot survive without reasoned judgment. Train the mind, and the heart will follow. The mob may shout, but facts — stubborn, silent, steadfast — will remain. You must defend them as stoutly as I once defended those soldiers: not because they are popular, but because they are just.

CN: That sounds like an urgent charge for every American. Though some of us today already believe that our American systems, traditions, and institutions are not up to modern challenges. If you were running for president today, what would you suggest we do to address our country’s most pressing problems?

ADAMS: First, I would not promise miracles. Beware the candidate who claims they alone can fix everything. I would urge Americans to stop expecting salvation from a single leader and instead re-energize the principles of shared responsibility. If I were a candidate today, my platform would be plain: Revitalize civic education, restore the local press, repair trust through transparency, reduce the influence of money in politics, and renew the expectation that compromise is not cowardice, but citizenship.

I would above all ask Americans to rejoin their communities. Volunteering was not necessarily considered noble in my day; it was expected, and it was the very least that citizens were asked to do. Read more books than headlines. Treat politics as a public duty, not a personal trait. And finally, I would speak truthfully, even when it costs votes. For a Republic worth saving is a Republic worth telling the truth to.

CN: Did you believe at the time of the Founding that the United States had a special role to play as well as a singular destiny among the powers of the world? And if so, what was it?

ADAMS: I did, though I must confess: My view of our nation’s destiny was more cautious than some of my compatriots’. I was not given to Jefferson’s romanticism or Franklin’s flair. I saw us not as a chosen people, but as a responsible one, entrusted with a great and fragile experiment in self-government, unlike any the world had yet seen.

The special role I envisioned for America was as an example. If we could prove that a government of laws, derived from the consent of the governed, could endure, then we would give hope to oppressed peoples everywhere. Our destiny was conditional on our virtue, our diligence, and our commitment to liberty restrained by order. If we succeeded, the cause of freedom might take root in distant soil. If we failed, despots would point to our ruins as proof that the people are unfit to rule themselves.

So yes, I believed we had a role to play, just not one guaranteed by Providence, but earned through the hard, daily work of maintaining a republic. That remains true in your age as well.

CN: That is good to hear, sir. What else would you say to average, everyday Americans about what they must do to maintain our republic?

ADAMS: I would say this: The Republic is not maintained in marble halls or mighty speeches alone. It is kept or lost in the daily conduct of ordinary citizens. First, educate yourselves and your children. Not merely in letters or numbers, but in history, ethics, and civics. A people who do not understand their rights will surrender them. A people who do not understand their institutions will neglect, abandon, or abuse them.

Second, vote, but do not stop there. Attend local gatherings. Write your representatives. Serve on juries. Read bills. Know your city councilor’s name. The machinery of your government depends on your presence at every level, not just when casting a noble ballot.

Third, resist the pull of faction. Parties will tempt you to see your neighbors as enemies. Do not give in. Listen to one another. Argue honestly. Remember that your opponents are fellow citizens, not foreign foes.

Fourth, hold your leaders accountable. Praise them when they act with principle; rebuke them when they serve themselves. No officeholder, however exalted, is above the people’s scrutiny. That includes the president. That included me.

Fifth, practice private virtue. Pay your debts. Keep your word. Teach your children discipline and charity. The habits of liberty are born in the home, not the Capitol. Our Republic is reflected in the Constitution, but sustained by character.

And finally, do not grow weary in the work. Liberty is never fully won. It must be renewed by each generation. The enemies of freedom are many: apathy, cynicism, fanaticism, and fear among them. But so, too, are its allies: courage, reason, humility, and hope.

Remember: We built a government that relies on you. Not kings, not generals – you. If the Republic falls, it will not be by invasion or decree, but by neglect. And if it endures, it will be because citizens chose to keep it, day by deliberate day.

CN: Thank you for talking with us, Mr. President. Is there any further wisdom you would like to share with us?

ADAMS: Indeed. Let me leave you with this: Liberty, once lost, is lost forever. Do not treat it lightly. Guard it not with swords alone, but with knowledge, vigilance, and virtue.

Remember that posterity ­– that is, you – was always in our thoughts. We staked our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor on a cause we could not see completed. We deeply hoped that you would be wise enough to preserve what we had only begun.

Do not confuse noise with substance. Do not mistake comfort for peace. And do not expect the Republic to care for itself. It is an inheritance that must be earned anew with each sunrise.

And finally, think more of duty than of desire. In my day, and I dare say still in yours, the health of the Republic depends on those who choose service over self, truth over triumph, and nation over faction.

If you do that, you shall not only keep the republic, you shall make it better. That is the true American promise.

Your most humble and obedient servant,