So, picture this: it’s November 15, 1777. The Continental Congress, a bunch of powdered-wig-wearing delegates, has been arguing for sixteen months—that’s longer than some celebrity marriages—to figure out how to run this brand-new country without, you know, collapsing. And what do they come up with? The Articles of Confederation. Or, as we might call it today, “the starter version of the U.S. Constitution.”
The Articles of Confederation, this so-called “league of friendship,” was basically a bunch of states saying, “We’ll work together… unless, of course, we don’t feel like it.” Every state kept its independence, and Congress had about as much power as a group text that nobody’s reading. They gave Congress a single vote per state and no power to tax. So if the national treasury needed money, Congress had to say, “Hey guys, could we get a few bucks?” Imagine the government today running on a GoFundMe.
It didn’t exactly scream “united.” But this setup was a reflection of colonial PTSD from being under the thumb of King George. The last thing these folks wanted was a strong, centralized power. So they made sure the federal government was as weak as possible—so weak that even calling it “government” might be generous. It’s like buying a security system for your house but making sure it only works when all the neighbors agree to turn it on.
But here’s the kicker: the Articles needed every single state to sign off before they could go into effect. That’s right—unanimous consent. Have you ever tried to get unanimous consent on anything? It’s hard enough getting a group of friends to agree on where to go for dinner. Now imagine thirteen fiercely independent states, each with its own agendas, grudges, and grudging agendas. It wasn’t until March 1, 1781—four years later—that Maryland, the holdout, finally said, “Fine! Whatever! Let’s do this!” And bam, the Articles were officially adopted.
Now, the Articles had some… issues. Congress couldn’t tax, couldn’t regulate commerce, couldn’t enforce laws—it was basically like having a national government made out of duct tape and good intentions. Pretty soon, interstate conflicts started popping up, finances went down the drain, and Congress could barely scrape together enough cash to pay its own soldiers. Then Shays’ Rebellion happened, where angry farmers rose up because they were so broke they couldn’t even pay their taxes. If it wasn’t obvious by then, the Articles of Confederation were about as effective as a screen door on a submarine.
So by 1787, our founders were like, “Yeah, this isn’t working.” They got together in Philadelphia and drafted a new Constitution, one that could actually do things like enforce laws and collect taxes—ya know, things people expect a government to be able to handle. And so, in 1789, the Constitution we know today took over, ending America’s experiment with a government that could politely ask but not actually do anything.
And here’s the thing: that 1777 story of the Articles of Confederation? It still has a familiar ring today. Fast forward to 2024, and we’re still fighting over the balance between state and federal power. Should states get to decide for themselves, or should we let the federal government step in? People argue about it every day—just check your news feed. Some folks think the feds have too much power, others think we need a strong central government to tackle issues like healthcare and education.
So, here we are, over two hundred years later, still wrestling with the same issues that made the founders’ heads spin. The adoption of the Articles of Confederation on November 15, 1777, serves as a reminder that building a united country is hard. It was a hot mess back then, and in many ways, it’s still a hot mess today. But hey, at least now our national government can collect taxes, right? Or… sorta.
