The CSPC Dispatch - Nov 14, 2025
In this issue, Jeanne Zaino reflects on the nation’s 250th year, arguing that the Constitution was designed to evolve and should not be treated as “too sacred to be touched.” Hidetoshi Azuma explores Japan’s new Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi and her emerging foreign doctrine, which prioritizes proactive defense, economic resilience, and a stronger role for Tokyo in countering regional threats, particularly from China and North Korea. Ben Pickert highlights the quiet victories of prevention, showing how regulation and public policy safeguard lives and communities in ways that often go unnoticed. Amarah Din examines historic electoral milestones for women, while also considering the persistent gaps in political representation that remain across the United States.
At 250, Too Sacred Not to Be Touched
By Jeanne Zaino
George Washington and Thomas Jefferson on the Mt. Rushmore Memorial. (Photo Credit: Guy Moss, CC BY-SA 4.0)
“We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy, as civilised society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.” - Thomas Jefferson, 1816
On November 4 the government shutdown became the longest in American history. This, coupled with mounting public frustration over the state of American politics, has prompted many people to ask what can be done to reform the system?
It is the right question, but even the mere suggestion is met charges of disloyalty and a lack of proper fealty to the Framers.
This is unfortunate because, as the quote by Jefferson demonstrates, nothing could be further from the truth.
It is patriotic to revisit, reconsider, and revise the work of the Founders. Anyone who suggests otherwise or treats the Constitution as “too sacred to be touched,” needs to go back and read the Framers, all of whom agreed that: (a) the original Constitution was imperfect but should be ratified anyway, and (b) constitutions should not be changed for ‘light and transient causes,’ but if, after careful consideration, future generations find reform is necessary, it should be undertaken following proper procedures.
Consider the words of some of our most famous Framers, beginning with Jefferson who, in 1816, wrote:
Some men look at constitutions with sanctimonious reverence, and deem them like the arc of the covenant, too sacred to be touched. They ascribe to the men of the preceding age a wisdom more than human, and suppose what they did to be beyond amendment.
The Constitution that emerged from the Convention and the men who wrote it were, according to Jefferson, far from perfect and while he was not an “advocate for frequent and untried changes in laws and constitution,” he recognized that,
laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed, more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, new truths disclosed, and manners and opinions change with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also, and keep pace with the times.
While Jefferson believed caution and prudence were called for, he understood that amendments and changes would likely be necessary over time given progress in so many areas of human development. For this reason, Jefferson described the idea that future generations should be required to live under a regime constituted by their predecessors as “preposterous.”
Second, Alexander Hamilton, who not only conceived of the Federalist Papers, recruited co-authors James Madison and John Jay, but wrote the majority of the essays and oversaw its printing. In the final essay, Hamilton implored New Yorkers to ratify the Constitution despite its obvious and inherent imperfections.
I never expect to see a perfect work from imperfect man. The result of the deliberations of all collective bodies must necessarily be a compound, as well of the errors and prejudices.
While Hamilton acknowledged the defects in the document, he nevertheless pushed for ratification saying that if they didn’t pass it, the moment would be lost forever. For this reason, he advocated in favor of ratification first and amendment-reform later.
Third, George Washington; the President of the Convention, our First President and one of the most beloved figures in American history.
Shortly after the Convention, he wrote a letter in which he spoke about the deficiencies in the document:
The warmest friends to and the best supporters of the Constitution, do not contend that it is free from imperfections; but these were not to be avoided, and they are convinced if evils are likely to flow from them, that the remedy must come thereafter.
Similarly, the man commonly referred to as the Father of the Constitution, James Madison. In a 1788 letter he said:
I am not of the number if there be any such, who think the Constitution, lately adopted, a faultless work.
Finally, a lesser known but fascinating Founder, Gouverneur Morris. Known as the penman of the Constitution, he wrote the seven most famous words in American political history – the preamble to the Constitution “We the people of the United States.”
He was also present almost every day of the Convention and was one of the most active delegates in Philadelphia that hot summer. Shortly before he died, he said of the Constitution:
Nothing human can be perfect. Surrounded by difficulties, we did the best we could; leaving it with those who should come after us to take counsel from experience, and exercise prudently the power of amendment.
The Constitution was – as the Founders agreed – flawed. Paramount among its defects was it sanctioned the sin of slavery. You can disagree about whether it should have been ratified, but there is no debating the Framers were aware of its faults and advocated passage regardless; they did so with the understanding that the document would be revised by future generations.
Afterall, as Jefferson noted, it was ludicrous to imagine otherwise. To suggest that a person be compelled to live under rules set by their ancestors was, according to Jefferson, as preposterous as requiring a man to wear the coat he wore as a boy.
Jeanne Sheehan Zaino is professor of Political Science, Senior Democracy Fellow at the Center for the Study of the Presidency & Congress and Visiting Democracy Fellow at the Ash Center for Democratic Governance and Innovation, Harvard Kennedy School. This piece draws on themes in her latest book, American Democracy in Crisis (Palgrave, 2025), and her Substack newsletter, The New Realist. It is the fourth in a series on reform marking America’s Semiquincentennial.
The Emerging Contours of Japan’s Takaichi Doctrine
By Hidetoshi Azuma
Photo from October 22, 2025 of the first deputy ministerial meeting of Sanae Takaichi's government. (Photo Credit: Cabinet Public Affairs Office, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Japan’s new Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi is wasting no time in reshaping her nation’s role on the global stage. Barely a month into her historic tenure as the country’s first female leader, she has already signaled a bold departure from Tokyo’s traditionally cautious foreign policy. In a recent parliamentary session, Takaichi declared that a Chinese blockade or armed attack on Taiwan could constitute an “existential crisis” for Japan, potentially triggering the exercise of collective self-defense rights for an armed response. This is not mere rhetoric—it is a clarion call for a more assertive Japan, one that prioritizes deterrence and even war over ambiguity in the face of mounting threats from Beijing. As the U.S. navigates its own strategic pivots under President Trump, Takaichi’s emerging doctrine offers a timely blueprint for allied resilience in the Indo-Pacific, blending the national will to a muscular defense with economic fortitude to counter China's relentless expansionism.
Takaichi’s vision did not emerge in a vacuum. It builds directly on the legacy of her mentor, the late Shinzo Abe, who transformed Japan from a postwar pacifist nation into a “proactive contributor to peace.” Abe’s establishment of the National Security Council in 2013 and the 2015 reinterpretation of Article 9 of the Japanese constitution to permit limited collective self-defense laid the groundwork. But Takaichi is accelerating this evolution at a moment of acute regional peril: China’s gray-zone provocations in the East China Sea, Russia’s continued occupation of the Krill and Sakhalin islands, North Korea’s relentless missile tests, and the specter of a war over Taiwan that could choke off Japan’s vital sea lanes. In her October 24 policy speech, she vowed to “independently push for a fundamental reinforcement” of defense capabilities, a stance that rightly acknowledges Japan’s geographic vulnerabilities and the limits of U.S. guarantees in an era of American introversion. Critics may decry this as militarism reborn, but it is mere pragmatism: a Japan that pulls its weight strengthens the Free and Open Indo-Pacific vision, not weakens it.
Yet, to fully grasp the Takaichi Doctrine, one must view it through the lens of Japan’s postwar history. For decades, the Yoshida Doctrine—named after Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida—defined Japan’s strategic posture. Forged in the ashes of World War II, it emphasized economic mercantilism: rapid industrialization, export-led growth, and massive trade surpluses, all the while maintaining security minimalism and instead relying on the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty for protection. Anchored in Article 9’s pacifist principles, which renounced war and prohibited belligerent forces, the doctrine allowed Japan to channel resources into becoming an economic superpower, avoiding the entanglements of great-power politics. This “peace constitution” bargain was a masterstroke of realism in its time, enabling reconstruction without provoking regional suspicions.
Takaichi’s approach fundamentally challenges this framework. By committing to double defense spending to 2% of GDP—potentially by March 2026, ahead of the 2027 target—she upends the Yoshida-era prioritization of economic growth over military might. Her policies seek the acquisition of “counter-strike capabilities,” including long-range missiles for preemptive or retaliatory actions, shifting from a strictly defensive stance to one of proactive deterrence and even potentially offensive capabilities. This doctrinal rupture erodes the postwar pacifism that treated military power as subordinate to economic reconstruction and social welfare. Institutionally, Takaichi’s alliance with the hawkish Japan Innovation Party replacing the dovish Komeito, facilitates this shift, enabling bolder reinterpretations of Article 9 and a reorientation toward “strategic resilience.” In essence, the Takaichi Doctrine discards the Yoshida bargain of security outsourcing to the U.S., compelling Japan to assume greater sovereignty in an era where U.S. commitments remain dubious and the triple regional threats from China, Russia, and North Korea loom larger.
More provocatively, this evolution signals an atavistic reversion to the Meiji-era slogan of “Fukoku Kyohei”—Rich Nation, Strong Military—which propelled Imperial Japan’s modernization and imperial ambitions in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Under Takaichi, the fusion of economic nationalism with military buildup echoes this prewar ethos: fortifying supply chains, protecting critical technologies, and incentivizing defense industries to spur innovation and self-reliance by expanding Japan’s sphere of influence well beyond its borders. Her Economic Security Promotion Council treats economic resilience as an extension of national defense, diversifying away from China in semiconductors and rare earths to ensure prosperity underpins power. While detractors warn of remilitarization risks, this revival of “Fukoku Kyohei” is not imperial nostalgia but a pragmatic adaptation to the new geopolitical reality—Japan must enrich itself to strengthen its military in a disunited world, lest it become a pawn in great-power rivalries.
At the heart of the Takaichi Doctrine lies an unapologetic recognition of Taiwan as within Japan’s sphere of influence. By framing a potential Chinese invasion or blockade as a direct threat to Japan’s survival, Takaichi has shattered decades of strategic ambiguity. This echoes Abe’s posthumous warning that “a Taiwan contingency is a Japanese contingency,” but Takaichi elevates it to an official policy. With Taiwan just 110 kilometers from Japan’s outlying islands and 90% of its energy imports traversing nearby waters, the stakes are existential. Beijing’s furious response—diplomatic barbs and veiled threats—only underscores the doctrine’s deterrent value. Although Takaichi later clarified her remarks as “hypothetical” and pledged restraint in future parliamentary comments, the die has been cast, and the message to Xi Jinping is clear: aggression against Taiwan will not go unanswered. This is no provocation; it is a necessary recalibration that raises the costs of Chinese adventurism, benefiting not just Japan but the entire U.S.-led alliance network.
Equally provocative is Takaichi’s flirtation with nuclear ambiguity. When questioned on Japan’s adherence to its “three non-nuclear principles”—no possession, production, or introduction of nuclear weapons—she demurred, saying she was “not at the stage” to confirm. This calculated vagueness, set against plans to revise Japan’s core security documents by 2026, invites speculation about deeper U.S.-Japan nuclear cooperation, perhaps even sharing arrangements. Given Japan’s traumatic history with atomic warfare, this shift demands careful handling, but it is a logical response to North Korea’s arsenal and China’s hypersonic advances. Takaichi’s push for defense modernization—bolstering cyber, space, and counter-strike capabilities—complements this, with multi-year budgets to spur private-sector innovation. She’s also eyeing U.S.-style reforms to foreign investment screening, targeting risks from Chinese capital in critical sectors. In a world where technology is the new battlefield, this doctrine wisely positions Japan as a tech-savvy ally, ready to share burdens rather than merely receive protection.
Of course, risks are unavoidable. Domestically, hiking defense spending amid Japan’s staggering debt could strain finances and provoke backlash from pacifist constituencies. Regionally, her Taiwan stance heightens tensions with China, potentially escalating into miscalculation. Yet, these pale against the alternative: a passive Japan inviting aggression when Washington’s alliance commitments are questionable. The emerging Takaichi doctrine challenges the liberal order’s complacency, prioritizing sovereignty over endless multilateralism—a trend mirrored in rising populist governments worldwide.
For the U.S., this is an opportunity. A stronger Japan stabilizes supply chains, deters Beijing, and shares alliance costs, freeing American resources for other theaters and prosperity at home. Businesses should cheer: enhanced economic security means more predictable trade, innovation partnerships, and investment in a resilient Indo-Pacific. Europe, too, should engage, as Takaichi’s anti-Russia posture aligns with NATO’s interests.
In sum, the rise of a Takaichi Doctrine is not just Japan’s great awakening from its post-WWII pacifist slumber—it is a model for other U.S. allies everywhere. By marrying defense hawkishness with economic realism, it promises a “strong and prosperous” Japan ready to confront China and other regional threats head-on. As global uncertainties mount, Washington and its allies would do well to embrace this shift. The era of strategic reluctance and free-riding is over; the time for a resolute, equitable alliance has arrived. The speed with which Takaichi has steered Japan on a security maximalist path is rather remarkable and is worthy of emulation by other U.S. allies, especially South Korea. The next test for Takaichi looks to challenge her ability and resolve to command leadership in a potential real-world conflict, one potentially including the use of arms – an experience no Japanese prime minister has had to master since 1945. Afterall and in the end, there is no substitute for that real world experience, and Japan’s first female premier increasingly finds herself entrusted with a historic mission to make Japan great again.
Hidetoshi Azuma is a Senior Fellow at the Center for the Study of the Presidency and Congress.
The Miracle of Things that Didn’t Happen
By Ben Pickert
Eastern span of the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge. (Photo Credit: © Frank Schulenburg, CC BY-SA 3.0)
When I was three, I was hospitalized with a severe case of dehydration exacerbated by what was likely the flu. I couldn’t keep anything down, I refused to move, I lost weight, and if not for adequate care and modern medicine, I likely could have died. Many other children past and present certainly have. My life was preserved by a system designed to protect those whose health is imperilled.
Sometimes we know when we’re in danger. Most of the time, though, the victories that saved us have been invisible.
When I was young, I also received a vaccine for measles, as did every other child in my class. As a result, none of us caught the disease, and in 2000, measles was declared eradicated in the United States. Prior to the vaccine, nearly all children in the United States caught measles by the time they were 15 years old. If I had caught measles as a child, the odds of being killed by the disease would have been low, but importantly, non-zero. At my high school, which had a thousand students, unprevented measles would have statistically meant around three fewer classmates (ignoring others who may have faced lifelong disabilities such as encephalitis). Since we live in a world where the vaccine was mandatory, we will (thankfully) never know which three of my peers we would have lost. It could have been my friends, my sister, or even me. Probability is a game of chance, but for the kid who dies, the odds aren’t 0.3%, they're 100%.
That’s the strange, frustrating, and beautiful thing about prevention: when it works, nothing happens. There is no story. No headline. No documentary, op-ed, or exposé. Just people continuing to live their lives, unaware they were ever in danger in the first place.
Many of our greatest public achievements are like this: quiet, preventative, and easy to overlook. The Clean Air Act alone is estimated to save hundreds of thousands of lives every year by reducing the pollution that fuels asthma, lung cancer, and other respiratory diseases. Phasing out lead in paint and gasoline spared generations of children from irreversible brain damage. Guardrails, rumble strips, and roundabouts have prevented car crashes. Building codes have kept homes standing through storms and fires that might once have leveled them.
Each of these is a triumph measured in the tragedies that didn’t occur. And because prevention is invisible, it’s easy to forget it ever mattered. Most regulations are written in hindsight. They exist not because something might happen, they exist because it already did. Someone fell, someone burned, someone got sick, someone died. Now we know better.
We don’t celebrate when bridges stay standing or when we aren’t breathing in carcinogens, because it feels obvious and inevitable. When the system works, it feels like nothing at all. But that passivity can be dangerous. When regulation and prevention succeed and disasters wane for long enough, we start to believe the danger was exaggerated to begin with. That’s when confidence replaces caution and protections are removed.
In January of this year, President Trump signed an executive order directing agencies to eliminate 10 regulations for each new one introduced in the most sweeping deregulation mandate in modern history. The Environmental Protection Agency soon followed with what it called the largest deregulatory action in U.S. history, targeting more than thirty major rules, including limits on greenhouse gases, toxic chemicals, and water pollution.
Supporters argue this will cut costs and boost growth. And yes, regulations deserve review. Not all rules are virtuous; some become outdated, duplicative, or actively counterproductive. Good governance requires pruning. But the Silicon Valley motto of “move fast and break things” is disastrously ill-suited to the public sphere, where the things that break tend to be people, ecosystems, and communities.
Sweeping deregulation rarely causes immediate catastrophe, it erodes slowly. Lead levels rose in Flint, Michigan when water safety standards were loosened. Industrial accidents are higher when safety inspections are cut. Pollution deaths increase when air quality rules weaken. Repealing vaccine mandates is likely to exacerbate the spread of communicable diseases. Dramatically rolling back preventive regulation is like removing the batteries from a smoke detector because it hasn’t gone off lately. It saves a little money, but in the end it may cost us much more.
Good regulation is infrastructure. It’s the invisible scaffolding that lets markets and communities function safely. From public and environmental health to industrial policy, the most cost-effective government actions are the ones that prevent crises before they start. When those systems are weakened, the bill comes due. We will never know the classmate we didn’t lose, the lung cancer we never had, or the bridge that didn’t collapse. That’s the paradox of progress: our greatest victories often leave no trace. But they are victories nonetheless.
As we enter an era of aggressive deregulation, we should remember that the absence of disaster isn’t proof that regulation was unnecessary, it’s proof that it worked. After all, there are reasons these policies were penned in the first place. Because some of the greatest miracles are not the things that have happened, but the countless things that didn’t.
Ben Pickert is the Executive Assistant to the President & CEO at the Center for the Study of the Presidency & Congress.
Female Firsts: Representation of Women in Elected Office
By Amarah Din
The 2025 election cycle brought a wave of long-overdue firsts, including some historic wins. Most notably, Virginia elected Abigail Spanberger as the state’s first female governor. The Commonwealth also elected Ghazala Hashmi as lieutenant governor, making her the first Muslim woman to hold statewide office in the United States. Mikie Sherrill was also elected as the first female Democrat governor of New Jersey, and Merry Sheffield of Detroit, Michigan was elected as the city’s first female mayor.
These milestones deserve celebration—but they also raise a sobering question: why are women still having to break barriers in 2025? Shouldn’t female representation be the norm and expected, and not come as a surprise breakthrough? After all, women make up just over half of the U.S. population.
Despite these victories, women remain dramatically underrepresented in government. According to the Center for American Women and Politics, only 152 of 535 seats, or 28.4%, of the 119th session of Congress is female. Of those, 111 are Democrat and 41 are Republican. Female representation at the state and local levels is slightly better. In statewide elective executive offices, such as governor or lieutenant governor, women hold 30% of those positions. They also make up 33.5% of state legislatures, 37% of mayors in the most populous cities, and 32.4% of municipal offices.
Why does female political representation hover around a quarter or a third—seemingly low for a cohort that comprises such a significant portion of the population?
For most of the nation’s history, White men have more easily accrued social, educational, and economic credentials. In a patriarchal system they are given historic societal advantages over women in politics. In her essay, “Women’s Underrepresentation in in the U.S. Congress” (2020), Kira Sanbonmatsu states that, even in childhood, “girls and boys internalize society’s expectations, including the assumption that men, more than women, are qualified for politics and elections.”
Influential political and societal actors do not tap women to run for office at nearly the same rate as men. A 2012 report from the Women and Politics Institute at American University, for instance, found that 49% of men had received encouragement from a political actor to run versus 39% of women. In addition, 66% of men had received encouragement from a nonpolitical actor to run versus 59% of women. As previously noted, women also tend to doubt their own qualifications to run for office, with 57% of them stating they believed they were qualified or very qualified to run for office, while 73% of men said the same, even though both groups were nearly equally likely to have relevant political experience. Misogynistic gender roles lead to self-doubt and, in turn, cause women to forego seeking political office. Fewer women running for office translates to fewer women engaging in politics, thus inducing a cycle of underrepresentation and resource disparity in our society.
How can we tackle this issue? It starts at home: encouraging female family members to run for leadership positions, such as student government or city council, can instill a sense of affirmation and confidence in young women, especially coming from an emotionally trusted source like a family member. Work colleagues can also provide support and motivation for women considering higher leadership. Lastly, those who hold or have held political office can act as mentors, encouraging women to run for office and providing insight on how to run a successful campaign and become an effective elected official. Strong support systems that emphasize female empowerment are necessary to help women see their own potential in public service.
Political recruiters also have a responsibility to search for and enable women interested in running for office. Organizations such as Running Start and EMILYs List are good examples, conducting programs and outreach initiatives that provide young women the tools and networks they need in order to run successful campaigns.
Electing more women to public office isn’t about filling a quota: it’s about realizing democracy’s full promise and ensuring equitable representation for 170 million Americans. When women have a seat at the table, they naturally speak about and influence issues that directly affect other women. Whether that agenda is focused on reproductive healthcare, violence against women, equal access to education, or an equitable economy for all, the perspectives of women are critical. Distorted gender representation undoubtedly skews policy outcomes, potentially leading more than half of Americans to question the legitimacy and fairness of our democracy. True progress will thus come when female leadership no longer makes headlines for its novelty, but rather for its normalcy and impact.
Amarah Din is an intern at CSPC and recent Political Science graduate from Appalachian State University.
CSPC IN THE NEWS
CSPC’s James Kitfield Receives Journalism Honor
This month the Military Reporters and Editors (MRE) Association and the Medill School of Journalism recognized CSPC Senior Fellow and journalist-in-residence James Kitfield with an Honorable Mention for his commentary over the past year on topics covering the military and national security. The award marks the seventh time that they have recognized him for excellence in reporting and commentary.
Mr. Kitfield is the former senior national security correspondent for National Journal magazine, and he has written on national security and foreign policy issues from Washington, D.C. for over three decades. Mr. Kitfield is also the author of four books on national security themes, most recently “In the Company of Heroes: The Inspiring Stories of Medal of Honor Recipients from America’s Longest Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq” (Hachette Book Group 2021).
Judges from MRE and Medill recognized Mr. Kitfield’s commentary over the past year that appeared in CSPC’s Dispatch, Foreign Policy, and The Hill. Excerpts and links to his recognized work are below:
The Dispatch: A Message from Normandy: June 6, 2025
There is a name on a cross in a sea of crosses on a hillside in Normandy. Each of those names was once on the lips of loved ones as they called out to ardent young men who had their whole lives in front of them. Their names echoed on the nearby cliffs and beaches below, shouted by their brothers in arms in a hellscape of terror as they stood together against a gale-force of tyranny that had very nearly swept the world.
Foreign Policy: America Listing in a Gathering Storm: March 26, 2025
Geopolitical storm clouds are gathering at the far reaches of Pax Americana, and yet there is remarkably little sign that the U.S. government or the American people have awoken to the mounting dangers. The threat posed by China and Russia and their rogue nation allies rated only passing mention in last year’s presidential campaign, for instance, which in typical fashion revolved around domestic issues such as the economy and inflation.
The Hill: Trump’s Threats Cast Dark Clouds Over NATO summit: May 27, 2025
“They hate us.”
That was the assessment of the Trump administration recently offered in a private conversation with a senior European diplomat from a major NATO country. That gloomy view of transatlantic relations is widely shared in Europe, and not just because a leaked Signals chat revealed that the U.S. vice president and secretary of defense privately described Europeans as “pathetic” geopolitical freeloaders.”