December 20th, 1860. South Carolina storms out of the Union. The first state to secede, the first domino to fall in what would become the most devastating conflict in American history. A lot of people think of this moment as the starting pistol for the Civil War, but really, it’s something bigger. It’s the day we first faced a question we still can’t answer: Does the United States have to stay together?
On paper, the Union was this perfect partnership—a bold experiment where people with different interests, different cultures, and different values could live together under one system. But by 1860, that partnership was tearing at the seams. The Southern states, with economies and identities built on slavery, believed their way of life was under threat. Abraham Lincoln was elected on a platform that didn’t support abolishing slavery outright, but the South saw the writing on the wall.
South Carolina laid it all out in their Declaration of Secession. They didn’t dress it up with abstract principles. They were crystal clear: their economy, their culture, their political power—all of it was tied to slavery. Lincoln’s election, they believed, meant the federal government would eventually abolish that system. To them, staying in the Union was no longer tenable. So, they left.
Of course, it didn’t stop there. South Carolina inspired six more states to secede by early 1861, followed by four others. Eleven states in total broke away to form the Confederacy, leading to four years of bloody conflict that would kill more Americans than any war before or since.
Now, we know how that story ended. The Union won. Slavery was abolished. But here’s the thing—we treat the Civil War as proof that the United States is indestructible, that no matter how divided we get, this country will always hold. But what if that’s the wrong lesson? What if the real lesson is that the United States doesn’t necessarily have to stay together?
Let’s be honest: the U.S. wasn’t designed to be one-size-fits-all. It was built as a compromise—a big, messy, awkward compromise between vastly different states with vastly different values. And for a while, that compromise worked. But when one side starts bending the rules, or the stakes get too high, compromise stops feeling like an option. That’s what happened in 1860. And look around—doesn’t it feel like that’s where we’re headed now?
We live in a country where people aren’t fighting for the same vision of freedom anymore. They’re fighting for control. Every election feels like a battle for survival. Each side is terrified that if the other wins, they’ll lose everything they value. And when you’re playing to win instead of playing fair, democracy stops working.
What’s worse is that both sides think they’re protecting democracy. That’s how we get gerrymandering, voter suppression, court-stacking, and all the other tricks meant to rig the game. Not to govern better. Not to bring people together. Just to win. And that’s not how you run a democracy. That’s how you ruin one.
So maybe we need to think differently. Maybe we need to consider the possibility that the United States doesn’t have to stay together. Not because we hate each other. Not because we want to tear it all down. But because we value democracy so much that we’re willing to let people govern themselves the way they see fit.
Picture it: What if instead of forcing everyone into one system, we let regions live according to their own values? Imagine the Northeast, the South, the Midwest, and the West Coast governing themselves—still neighbors, still partners, but free to follow their own paths. California could tackle climate change without interference. The South could focus on its own priorities. The Midwest could protect its industries. And no one would feel like they’re being dragged into a system they don’t believe in.
Would it be messy? Of course. But maybe it’s less messy than what we’re doing now—grinding each other into the ground just to keep this Union intact at all costs.
The lesson of South Carolina isn’t that secession is good. It’s that refusing to talk about it—refusing to even consider a peaceful way forward—leads to violence. The Civil War happened because both sides believed they had no other option. But what if we gave ourselves another option?
What if we stopped clinging to the idea that the United States has to stay together forever and started asking what it looks like to live in a way that actually works for everyone? Not by force, not by fear, but by choice.
The United States doesn’t necessarily have to end. But maybe it doesn’t necessarily have to stay together, either. And maybe—just maybe—that’s the only way to make democracy work for everyone.
