Let me talk about a little pamphleteer named Thomas Paine, a man who, back in 1776, managed to utter some of the most inconveniently prophetic words in American history.
In his seminal work Common Sense, Paine laid out a blueprint for civic representation that feels about as foreign to modern Washington as an honest politician. He believed elected representatives should periodically return to their normal lives, go home, and once again live among the people they represented. Why? Because the moment politicians become permanently separated from the communities that elected them, their interests begin to separate from ours.
Paine understood something that Washington has conveniently forgotten. He wrote that prudence demanded frequent elections so elected officials could return, mix with the people, and remain connected to the public they served.
Think about that for a moment.
Now fast-forward nearly 250 years, and look at what we have created.
We are living with the third-oldest Congress in American history. Walk through the marble halls of the Capitol and look at the faces staring back at you. Chuck Grassley is 92. Maxine Waters is 87. Nancy Pelosi is 86. James Clyburn is 86.
And before anyone accuses me of ageism, let me make something perfectly clear: I have enormous respect for age, experience, and wisdom. I believe there is tremendous value in the lessons that can only be learned by living through decades of triumph, failure, war, economic upheaval, cultural change, and personal sacrifice.
But experience is supposed to inform leadership; not become an excuse for permanent possession of power.
These politicians were elected to represent their constituents, not to become permanent fixtures of Washington’s political landscape. They were supposed to return home, live among ordinary Americans, shop in the same stores, drive the same roads, hear the same complaints, and experience the same economic pressures.
Instead, we have created a political class that can spend decades inside the Capitol while becoming increasingly disconnected from the country outside its doors.
And that disconnect matters.
I am old enough to remember when political experience actually meant something different. Today, however, the world moves at the absolute speed of the internet. Artificial intelligence is transforming entire industries. Global markets react in seconds. Social-media algorithms can reshape elections overnight. Cyberwarfare can cripple infrastructure without a single soldier crossing a border. Technology is changing how Americans work, communicate, learn, shop, invest, and even think.
That reality fundamentally changes the playing field.
Younger Americans have grown up inside this technological revolution. They understand platforms, algorithms, artificial intelligence, digital economies, and online communities because they have lived with them; not because someone briefed them before a congressional hearing.
So when a sitting senator has to ask a technology executive how a search engine makes money, I don’t see wisdom on display.
I see a dangerous disconnect between the people making the rules and the people living under them.
And that brings me to the real issue.
I believe it is time for many of our political elders to step aside, not because they are old, but because public service was never supposed to become permanent ownership of a government seat.
I want them to become what they should have been all along: wise counselors, mentors, institutional memory, and advisors to the next generation.
There is dignity in passing the torch.
There is no dignity in refusing to let go of it.
Because when older lawmakers refuse to make room for younger voices, they create a political vacuum. And nature, as politics has repeatedly taught us, abhors a vacuum.
Young Americans begin to feel ignored. They look at Washington and see people who seem to have been there forever. They hear politicians talk about their future while refusing to surrender the positions that would allow that future to have a voice.
And then we act surprised when younger voters become angry.
We shouldn’t be surprised at all.
Organizations like Voters of Tomorrow are emerging because an entire generation is demanding political representation that actually understands the world they inhabit.
But here’s where I believe the consequences become dangerous.
When traditional political institutions abandon younger Americans, the Democratic Socialists of America, the DSA, are more than happy to fill the void.
The DSA understands something that much of the traditional political establishment apparently does not: young voters want to believe somebody is listening.
So the DSA offers them an intoxicating political menu; free groceries, free transportation, a house wherever they damn well please, at a price their wallets magically approve, sweeping government guarantees, and promises that sound wonderful when you’re angry, frustrated, economically squeezed, and convinced that the existing system has completely forgotten you.
The problem is that government promises are not the same thing as government solutions.
Someone ultimately has to pay the bill.
And when established political leaders refuse to address legitimate generational frustration, they shouldn’t be shocked when radical movements arrive offering simplistic answers to complicated problems.
That is the irony I cannot ignore.
The very people who believe they are preserving stability by clinging to power may actually be creating the conditions for instability.
When conservative and traditional political elders refuse to rotate out of office, they don’t necessarily protect the system Thomas Paine envisioned.
They undermine it.
They create resentment.
They create alienation.
They create an opening for political movements willing to promise everything to people who feel they have nothing; even if those promises are unrealistic.
And that is how radicalism grows.
If I truly want to preserve this republic, and I do, I don’t believe the answer is to abandon experience. I believe the answer is to combine experience with renewal.
I want the wisdom of our elders.
I want the energy of our young.
I want the institutional memory of people who have spent decades serving this country, but I also want lawmakers who understand the technological, economic, and cultural reality facing Americans today.
Most of all, I want to restore the idea of the citizen legislator.
Thomas Paine understood that government works best when representatives remain representatives; not rulers.
Serving your country should be a profound civic responsibility, not a lifetime career with a congressional office and insider trading rights attached to it.
Go to Washington.
Serve.
Fight for your constituents.
Make your mark.
Then go home.
Live among the people again.
And perhaps, in doing so, remember why they trusted you with their vote in the first place.
That isn’t radical.
That is the republic Thomas Paine imagined.
And frankly, I think America could use a little more of it.
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Received this from a fan:
Since Cohen joined WABC: WABC 3.5 → 4.1 in the July Nielsen book.
The Apple Podcasts page for “When You Know You Know” currently displays 4.7/5 from about 1,920 ratings.
Nielsen’s July 2026 New York PPM results were released on August 10, and 77 WABC rose from a 3.5 share in June to a 4.1 share in July among persons 6+, Monday–Sunday, 6 a.m.–midnight. That is about a 17% month-over-month increase in audience share.
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