Key points
- The cost of our modern rushing isn’t just stress, it’s our relationships.
- Alexander Hamilton’s “non-stop” life reveals both the power and the peril of speed.
- To bridge our divides for the next 250 years, speed is not the answer, it’s slowing down with one another.
The fireworks have ended, and America has settled back into the familiar rhythms and disagreements of everyday life. Before we move on, may I suggest something else?
Let’s pause
We’re living through an era that rewards rushing. Yes, AI and other technologies make nearly everything faster, but there is a cost for our relationships, too. In civic life and at home, we prepare rebuttals before we’ve fully understood what someone is trying to say. We let labels replace curiosity
Does living this way actually serve us? Looking back at this anniversary, I think Alexander Hamilton has something to teach us for the next 250
A Man Ahead of His Time
In the song “Non-Stop” from the musical Hamilton, Lin-Manuel Miranda perfectly captured Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton wrote, argued, and fought as if he were “running out of time.” And that drive was central to his role in founding the country. Hamilton would fit comfortably into today’s world. We celebrate people who move quickly, produce a lot, and sleep little
Much of that drive is worth celebrating. But anyone who has rushed an important family conversation or work decision knows that speed comes with tradeoffs
The Costs of Speed
Hamilton’s relentless ambition strained the relationships around him. He neglected his marriage and son. Small disagreements became political feuds. Ultimately, his life ended in a duel fueled by reactive pride
We see similar costs in our own relationships. We look down at our phones instead of at the people we love. We write off those with different political views. Increasingly, we ask AI for advice before asking a friend, or order from Amazon before asking a neighbor. I’ve seen these costs in my own life. I’ve said things I couldn’t take back to people I love. I’ve sent snippy emails to colleagues who were doing their best. I’ve sneered at people wearing the wrong T-shirt or hat
The message I take from Hamilton, and one I explore more fully in Sometimes You Should Be Late: our fastest selves are not our wisest, and they are certainly not the ones most capable of healing relationships or a country
A Slower America
Living in Washington, D.C., I felt the tension surrounding this anniversary. Some were eager to celebrate what’s beautiful about our country. Others wanted to leave town rather than celebrate what America looks like today. There wasn’t much room for nuance or slowness
Democracy is intentionally slow. Election cycles that can seem eternal and the arduous process of passing a law, immortalized by Schoolhouse Rock, aren’t flaws. While it may seem we are far from this ideal today, these processes allow room for deliberation, learning, and action to come from enduring values and compromise, rather than self-righteousness or reactivity
The same is true in our relationships with our fellow Americans. Slowing down gives us space to recognize the fear or desire behind our own reaction, take a breath, and say, “I don’t see it that way. But help me understand how you do.” It gives us the chance to put down the phone and give our families at least as much attention as the latest outrage
The Next 250
America has lived long enough to know that moving faster is not always the answer. Sure, urgency helped us fight off the British. But I’m not sure it’s the answer for the next 250. A less non-stop life gives us the chance to see our country and one another with more perspective. Not to become less frustrated by the gap between what America is and what it can be, but to stay with that first reaction long enough to respond from a wiser part of ourselves
Alex Snider is a former federal employee and author of Sometimes You Should Be Lateand the Substack Slow Mindfulness
