The Year of Living Constitutionally: a man, a political plan … and a musket

Would you fly the Jolly Roger for Uncle Sam? AJ Jacobs tried to. For 12 months, the author and journalist became what he calls "the original originalist", seeking to live the way the founders envisioned life under the US constitution.

That life included the right to piracy on behalf of the US government. It sprang from a tradition predating the constitution, when the Continental Congress granted letters of marque and reprisal, allowing seamen to capture British ships. Noting this precedent, Jacobs brought an unconventional offer to Ro Khanna, a Democratic congressman from California, when the two met in a hotel lobby.

"I said, 'I'm following the constitution and would like to be granted a letter of marque and reprisal,'" Jacobs recalls. "He said, 'Great, let's make it happen.' I explained to him what it was: basically legalized piracy. I would fight our enemies on my friend's water-ski boat."

After that, Khanna "was a little more like, 'Maybe this is not going to happen.'"

Jacobs didn't get his Captain Jack Sparrow moment. But he did get a book out of the experience, The Year of Living Constitutionally: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Constitution's Original Meaning, which has received multiple votes of approval - including from Khanna.

"He did like the idea of the book: trying to explain the origins of the constitution, what it really means, what it says."

In 2007, Jacobs published the results of a similar project, The Year of Living Biblically.

"They have a similar status in our society," he says, of the Bible and the constitution. "Some people see them as sacred and try to follow them in the original meaning as it was written."

Others look to adapt the texts for a modern era. For the constitution, this has evolved into a debate between originalists and living constitutionalists. Jacobs interviewed scholars across the spectrum.

The originalists have been getting the better of things lately, including on the supreme court. And it was originalism - and the Guardian - that helped nudge Jacobs toward his book idea.

After the 2022 supreme court decision Dobbs v Jackson, which overturned Roe v Wade, removing the federal right to abortion, a Guardian editor asked Jacobs to cover an unexpected trend. It related not to abortion, which was suddenly up to the states, but to vasectomies, which a surprising number of American men were choosing to have.

"I am the type of journalist who tries things out myself and writes about the effort," Jacobs says. "I did not feel like getting a vasectomy. I did not know if I was the right person for that interesting storyline."

What he did feel like was exploring the originalist mindset. He came across a startling statistic: at least 60% of Americans, including himself at the time, had not read the constitution from beginning to end, despite it running just four to six pages. It was time to delve into "what it really says, what it really means, instead of getting it filtered from whatever media you happen to be partial to. Let's read what it actually says."

When it came to the right to piracy, although Jacobs couldn't sail the high seas he did receive an email from a Khanna staffer addressing him as "Captain Jacobs". Then there was petitioning the government. Instead of the online approach, Jacobs brought a scroll somewhere near 200ft long into the office of Ron Wyden, a Democratic senator from Oregon. Hundreds had signed the scroll. When Jacobs took some notes using his quill pen, it left ink on Wyden's carpet. Jacobs added $50 to his taxes to foot the bill. (The subject of his petition was "Let's have co-presidents", a cause advocated by some founders, with Benjamin Franklin recommending 12 chief executives at once.)

State laws came into the picture too. Free-speech advocates might be surprised by how much states policed what Americans said in the early republic. New York fined those who blasphemed or cursed 37 and a half cents. Jacobs did the same with his three sons, though they declined to come up with a half-cent.

"It was not an easy year," he says. "It was about as hard as The Year of Living Biblically." That said, there were some differences. With the Bible, Jacobs "grew a huge beard. This did not involve as much facial hair." But his appearance and lifestyle changed in other ways. He wore a tricorn hat, carried a musket, consumed an unusual amount of cloves, wrote with a quill, and woke up at the hour recommended by Franklin: 5am.

"I tried to express second amendment rights the old-fashioned way," he says. "I got a musket off ye olde internet and carried it around the Upper West Side where I live. A lot of people were crossing the street. People gave me a scowl." When he brought it into a coffeeshop, a customer invited Jacobs to go ahead of him in line.

"It's sort of a good example of how this year went. At times, it was very strange, bizarre and awkward. But it was also, at the same time, incredibly enlightening and fascinating. I do think it gave real insight into how we should interpret the constitution."

He was particularly pleased with one custom: election cakes, meant to spur civic participation. Jacobs got volunteers representing all 50 states to bake election cakes last year. He plans to do it again.

Although Jacobs appreciated the chance to adopt an 18th-century detachment from the near-constant news of today, he appreciates the progress America has made, saying: "It was terribly sexist and racist towards women, Black people and Indigenous people. I don't want to go back to that.

"Women's rights were very constrained, especially married women, who were treated like children. They could not sign contracts. My wife owns a business. She signs several contracts a day."

Jacobs's wife, Julie, let him take over contract-signing - then fired him after an hour.

Jacobs also examined how 19th-century abolitionists saw the constitution. William Lloyd Garrison was so outraged by its stance on slavery that he advocated burning it - and did so. Frederick Douglass, who was formerly enslaved, had the same view but changed his mind and recommended Americans view the constitution as a promissory note.