Is America Exceptional: Charles C.W. Cooke Weighs In.

What makes a nation truly exceptional—its power, its people, or its principles? In a bold and timely lecture at the University of Florida, Charles C.W. Cooke makes the case that America’s greatness lies in its enduring commitment to liberty, law, and a moral mission.

On Mar. 5th, at the University of Florida, Charles C.W. Cooke delivered a lecture addressing one of the most enduring questions in American political discourse: Is America exceptional? His talk explored the foundations of American liberalism, the ideological nature of the nation, and its role in the world. At the center of his talk was the key point that America is exceptional because of its ideals. I agree with Cooke’s take; America’s commitment to these ideals is what sets it apart, and despite its flaws and contradictions, the nation’s core values continue to shape its identity and gives it a moral role in the global stage.

Cooke posits that America is a propositional nation, meaning that its identity is built upon principles rather than ethnicity, geography, or shared ancestry. He points to the Declaration of Independence as the guiding star of western civilization. When Thomas Jefferson wrote, “all men are created equal,” he was rejecting the divine right of kings and asserting that government derives legitimacy from individual rights and self-governance rather than birthright or force.

Jefferson saw America’s mission as universal. The Declaration of Independence was not just a justification for the Revolution; it was a message to all mankind, signaling that America was defined by political and philosophical principles, not just land or lineage.

As an American by choice, Cooke embraces this view. He sees American identity as primarily political and ideological rather than historical or ethnic. This stands in contrast to certain currents within the modern Republican Party, which promote slogans like “America First” without clearly articulating what fundamentally is America. When America abandons its self-conception as a mission-driven republic, it loses not only its moral authority, but also its credibility as a global advocate for freedom. A politics that seeks greatness without defining it invites demagoguery—it becomes about power, not principle.

Cooke presents a more substantial view of American identity by emphasizing the U.S. Constitution as a kind of moral authority—what might be called the nation’s guiding star. It doesn’t just establish legal norms; it shapes the very way Americans understand right and wrong. This echoes Alexis de Tocqueville’s observation that Americans tend to fold moral and political questions into legal language, instinctively turning to the Constitution as a source of legitimacy. The Constitution, then, is more than a document—it’s a civic scripture, one that continues to orient the national conscience.

America’s deep respect for the Constitution underscores its exceptional nature—not just as a powerful country, but as a unique kind of country: a nation of laws, not of men. As Cooke argues, this makes America less a geographic or ethnic identity and more a moral endeavor: a classical liberal project built on individual liberty, limited government, and equal justice under the law. Even in times of deep disagreement, Americans return instinctively to the Constitution—not just to resolve legal disputes, but to answer moral questions. At a time when many institutions are mistrusted, and civic discourse is fraying, rediscovering the founding principles of the American experiment is not nostalgic—it’s necessary.

Because America is built on moral ideals, Cooke argues, it has a unique responsibility to lead on the global stage. He contends that if the United States steps back from this role, others—often less committed to liberty and human rights—will step in to fill the vacuum. Cooke, like Krauthammer before him, sees American supremacy not as a selfish project but as the foundation of a stable world order. Without that anchor, the world risks reverting to spheres of influence dominated by powers like China or Russia. For students today—many of whom have grown up in a world shaped by U.S. hegemony—this moment demands reflection: if America relinquishes its role as a global moral leader, what kind of world will emerge to replace it?

Cooke warns that certain geopolitical threats—such as China’s potential invasion of Taiwan—could destabilize the world economy. Since its takeover by China, Hong Kong has lost many of its freedoms, yet its people still carry symbols of American ideals, such as the U.S. flag. But history also offers warnings—America’s delayed response to the Rwandan genocide or its abrupt withdrawal from Afghanistan left moral and strategic voids, shaking conviction in U.S. leadership. If the world sees America falter again in defending liberty and order, especially in high-stakes regions like Taiwan, the consequences could be far-reaching.

However, does America see itself as a propositional nation? Cooke notes that while most immigrants believe in American exceptionalism, many native-born Americans do not. Without a deep understanding of the nation’s founding ideals—why they matter and how they came to be—young Americans are left unequipped to navigate the challenges of the present. The modern conveniences that many take for granted—economic prosperity, technological dominance, and relative global stability—are not the natural order of things. These achievements are exceptional precisely because they are fragile and hard-won, requiring each generation to reaffirm and preserve the values that made them possible.

Historically, however, nations that have assumed their greatness was permanent have suffered decline. Consider the Roman Empire—once the most powerful civilization in the world. Romans enjoyed marble floors, aqueducts, education, and philosophy, believing these were permanent features of their world. Rome lost its dominance not because of external threats, but due to internal decay. Corruption became widespread in government, undermining public trust and effective leadership. The military, once a disciplined and respected force, began to suffer from disorganization and lack of commitment. Overspending on military campaigns strained the economy, leading to inflation and eventual collapse. Meanwhile, the Roman citizenry grew passive, distracted by bread and circuses rather than actively participating in civic life.

However, America is not Rome, and there are reasons for optimism. Alexis de Tocqueville observed that America’s strength lies in its civic associations—the ability of its people to organize, participate, and maintain their democratic institutions. America’s prosperity is the product of its people's virtuous character and its founding principles. If those principles remain actively upheld, then American exceptionalism will persist.