December 5, 1933. Ninety-one years ago today, America collectively stood up, wiped off its bootlegger hangover, and said, “Okay, maybe this whole banning booze thing was a little… much.” It was the day the 21st Amendment was ratified, repealing Prohibition, and giving the Constitution the same treatment we give bad tattoos: an embarrassed cover-up and a promise to do better.
Yes, the headlines will tell you that this was about the return of legal alcohol. You could now sip your whiskey without fear of a federal raid—or your bathtub gin catching fire. But here’s the thing: this wasn’t just a victory for your great-grandpa’s favorite speakeasy. This was about America finally remembering what the Constitution is supposed to be. It wasn’t just a reversal of bad policy—it was a return to first principles. Because the 18th Amendment? That wasn’t just a bad idea. It was fundamentally un-American.
Let’s talk about this for a second. The Constitution—our sacred document, our national instruction manual, the thing that starts with We the People—has one job: to limit the power of the government. That’s the gig. It’s not a list of government wishes. It’s a leash. A shock collar. A post-it note that says, “Don’t get cute, Congress.” It exists to tell the government what it can’t do to us. And then, in 1919, we collectively lost our minds and decided, “Hey, you know what would be great? Let’s use this sacred document to tell everyone what they can’t drink.”
That’s right. The 18th Amendment was the constitutional equivalent of your boss writing, “Don’t eat fish at your desk” into your employment contract. And not only was it a bad idea, it was the exact opposite of what the Constitution is supposed to be. The 18th Amendment was the first—and thankfully the only—time we used the Constitution to limit the people instead of the government. And the results? A decade of illegal drinking, mob violence, and everyone trying to figure out what exactly “bathtub gin” is. (Spoiler alert: It’s bad.)
So, on December 5, 1933, when we ratified the 21st Amendment, we weren’t just ending Prohibition. We were fixing a mistake. We were standing up and saying, “Wait, this isn’t how this works. This isn’t how any of this works.” It was a national moment of clarity—our “Wait, what did I just drunk text?” moment. And in doing so, we reminded ourselves that the Constitution isn’t there to control us. It’s there to control them. The government. The people in power. The ones who, let’s be honest, shouldn’t even be trusted with a three-ring binder, let alone our freedoms.
But here’s the thing: this isn’t just history. This same dangerous mindset—the 18th Amendment mindset—is still floating around today. Think about it. In recent years, we’ve seen proposed amendments to define marriage. Amendments to ban abortion. Amendments to control personal choices and tell people what they can and cannot do with their own lives. It’s the same logic that gave us Prohibition—using the Constitution as a hammer to beat the people into submission, instead of a shield to protect them from government overreach.
Do you see the problem here? The Constitution is not a suggestion box for government micromanagement. It’s not there for politicians to say, “You know what would really improve this document? A little more us.” The Constitution is supposed to limit power, not expand it. It’s supposed to protect freedoms, not restrict them. And any government that doesn’t understand that—that doesn’t understand its role as servant, not master—is a government that needs to sit down, take a breath, and re-read the first three words: We the People.
So today, as we remember the ratification of the 21st Amendment, let’s raise a glass—not just to the end of Prohibition, but to the end of the insanity that put it there in the first place. Let’s celebrate the fact that America, for all its flaws, occasionally remembers its own rules. And let’s stay vigilant, because the fight to keep the government in its lane isn’t over. It never is.
And if all else fails? Well, at least we’ve got whiskey.
