From Rome to Washington: What History Teaches Us About Government Size 03-22-25
A CATHOLIC PERSPECTIVE ON THE ROLE OF THE STATE
The debate over big government versus small government is nearly as old as civilization itself. Across the ages—from the grandeur of ancient Rome to the complexity of modern democracies—societies have asked the same essential question: How much government is too much? How little is too little?
Today, as the current administration begins dismantling certain federal departments, this timeless question feels particularly urgent. Proponents argue that such downsizing will reduce waste, streamline bureaucracies, and restore individual freedoms. Critics, however, warn that these reductions risk weakening the very structures designed to uphold the common good—systems that care for the poor, protect the vulnerable, and steward the nation’s shared resources.
From a Catholic perspective, the size and scope of government is not just a political issue—it is a moral one. History, too, offers wisdom. Examining how societies have balanced government power, social stability, and moral responsibility through the centuries can guide us today toward more faithful civic engagement. As Catholics, we are not called to choose between extremes but to seek the path of justice, discernment, and love.
Few civilizations have shaped the world as profoundly as Rome. At its height, Rome’s government was vast and intricate, overseeing everything from military defense and taxation to grain distribution and infrastructure. The famed Pax Romana—the Roman Peace—was maintained through this elaborate system.
But Rome also demonstrates the danger of excessive centralization. As its government expanded, it grew increasingly bureaucratic and detached from the needs of its people. Taxes burdened the poor. Emperors presented themselves as gods. Public service deteriorated into personal enrichment. By the time the Western Empire fell in 476 AD, the machinery of government had become inefficient, self-serving, and unsustainable.
This offers a clear warning for today: government must serve the people, not itself. A system focused more on control than justice loses its moral legitimacy. Yet it is equally dangerous to dismantle vital institutions without ensuring that something stable and just will take their place. Rome’s collapse was not caused by one failure alone, but by a combination of military threats, economic instability, and moral decay. The lesson here is that no single reform—nor a sweeping reduction—can ensure success. Context and prudence always matter.
When Rome fell, it left a vacuum in its wake. Civil governance across much of Europe all but vanished. Roads fell into disrepair. Law enforcement disappeared. Communities were left vulnerable and unprotected. Into this space stepped the Catholic Church.
Monasteries became centers of learning, healing, and hospitality. Bishops often served as civic leaders, organizing relief and settling disputes. The Church, without seeking political dominance, nonetheless functioned as a de facto government, preserving dignity and order when no one else could.
This moment in history beautifully illustrates the Catholic principle of subsidiarity—the idea that problems should be addressed by the smallest and most local competent authority. When higher structures fail, families, parishes, and local communities often rise to meet the need.
Still, we must ask: if government withdraws too quickly or too far today, who will fill the gap? Faith-based and community organizations do extraordinary work, but they often lack the reach and resources to replace entire public systems. The Church’s historic role in stepping up should be celebrated—but not presumed upon without support. And we must remember that even the Church, in some periods, became entangled in power and privilege. No institution—religious or political—is exempt from the temptations of imbalance or corruption.
Centuries later, as the world industrialized, new challenges emerged. The promise of technological advancement came at a steep cost. Factory labor replaced farm work. Urban slums grew. Poverty deepened. Governments, relying on the free market to self-correct, often stood by as exploitation spread.
Children worked long hours in dangerous conditions. Wages were low. Families struggled to survive. In response, Pope Leo XIII issued the groundbreaking encyclical Rerum Novarum in 1891, launching modern Catholic social teaching. He called for just wages, the dignity of labor, and the moral imperative of a just economy. And he affirmed the government’s rightful role in intervening when markets failed to uphold human dignity.
This, too, has relevance today. While markets can offer opportunity, they are not morally neutral. Without regulation, they can perpetuate injustice. A government that refuses to act in the face of human suffering is no less troubling than one that overreaches.
Importantly, industrialization’s dilemmas were not unique to Europe or North America. In countries like Japan, India, and Brazil, rapid modernization also strained communities. Some governments responded with protective reforms; others relied on grassroots labor movements. These examples remind us that the challenge of balancing freedom with fairness is global and ongoing.
So where does this leave us in the United States today? As our nation debates whether to scale back federal agencies, Catholics are called to think not just politically, but theologically. Our task is not merely to form opinions, but to form conscience.
We must ask: If social services are cut, who will care for the poor, the sick, and the elderly? If education funding is slashed, what happens to children in under-resourced communities? If environmental protections are weakened, who will safeguard the created world entrusted to us?
At the same time, we must also ask: Has government become too centralized, stifling creativity and local solutions? Are there faith-based or community-led efforts that could be more effective than federal programs? Does big government sometimes erode the rightful roles of families and local institutions?
The Catholic response is not either/or. It is both/and. The principle of subsidiarity urges us to address problems at the most local level possible—respecting family, community, and individual agency. But the principle of the common good reminds us that when local efforts fall short, the state has a moral duty to intervene.
In practical terms, this might mean expanding partnerships between parishes and public programs to care for the homeless, combining federal environmental standards with community stewardship, or advocating for labor policies that reduce the need for large welfare systems by promoting fair wages and family leave.
The Church does not promote a political ideology of “big government” or “small government.” It promotes rightly ordered government—government that protects human dignity, upholds justice, and serves the common good. As Christ taught, “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant.” A just government serves, not dominates; protects, not replaces.
History makes it clear that extremes are dangerous. Rome collapsed under the weight of its excess. The medieval world suffered from governmental absence. The industrial age exposed the harm of unregulated markets. Our own age must find a better way.
The real question isn’t how big government should be, but how just, compassionate, and morally grounded it is. We are called not to defend systems blindly, but to examine whether they serve life, family, and the poor.
And so, our call to action is clear:Engage. Think. Pray. Act.Participate in local and national dialogue—not to argue, but to witness. Support institutions that promote justice, mercy, and life. Discern policies not through partisan loyalty, but through the lens of the Gospel and the teachings of the Church.
A just society is not built on the size of its government, but on the strength of its moral foundation—and the courage of its people to pursue truth, love, and justice.
As Catholics, we belong to a faith that has walked alongside empires, republics, monarchies, and revolutions. Ours is not a passive faith. It is a faith that engages the world—armed with the wisdom of history and the hope of Christ.
May we never tire of building a society where government truly serves the people—and where every human life is valued, protected, and allowed to flourish.
The debate over big government versus small government is nearly as old as civilization itself. Across the ages—from the grandeur of ancient Rome to the complexity of modern democracies—societies have asked the same essential question: How much government is too much? How little is too little?
Today, as the current administration begins dismantling certain federal departments, this timeless question feels particularly urgent. Proponents argue that such downsizing will reduce waste, streamline bureaucracies, and restore individual freedoms. Critics, however, warn that these reductions risk weakening the very structures designed to uphold the common good—systems that care for the poor, protect the vulnerable, and steward the nation’s shared resources.
From a Catholic perspective, the size and scope of government is not just a political issue—it is a moral one. History, too, offers wisdom. Examining how societies have balanced government power, social stability, and moral responsibility through the centuries can guide us today toward more faithful civic engagement. As Catholics, we are not called to choose between extremes but to seek the path of justice, discernment, and love.
Few civilizations have shaped the world as profoundly as Rome. At its height, Rome’s government was vast and intricate, overseeing everything from military defense and taxation to grain distribution and infrastructure. The famed Pax Romana—the Roman Peace—was maintained through this elaborate system.
But Rome also demonstrates the danger of excessive centralization. As its government expanded, it grew increasingly bureaucratic and detached from the needs of its people. Taxes burdened the poor. Emperors presented themselves as gods. Public service deteriorated into personal enrichment. By the time the Western Empire fell in 476 AD, the machinery of government had become inefficient, self-serving, and unsustainable.
This offers a clear warning for today: government must serve the people, not itself. A system focused more on control than justice loses its moral legitimacy. Yet it is equally dangerous to dismantle vital institutions without ensuring that something stable and just will take their place. Rome’s collapse was not caused by one failure alone, but by a combination of military threats, economic instability, and moral decay. The lesson here is that no single reform—nor a sweeping reduction—can ensure success. Context and prudence always matter.
When Rome fell, it left a vacuum in its wake. Civil governance across much of Europe all but vanished. Roads fell into disrepair. Law enforcement disappeared. Communities were left vulnerable and unprotected. Into this space stepped the Catholic Church.
Monasteries became centers of learning, healing, and hospitality. Bishops often served as civic leaders, organizing relief and settling disputes. The Church, without seeking political dominance, nonetheless functioned as a de facto government, preserving dignity and order when no one else could.
This moment in history beautifully illustrates the Catholic principle of subsidiarity—the idea that problems should be addressed by the smallest and most local competent authority. When higher structures fail, families, parishes, and local communities often rise to meet the need.
Still, we must ask: if government withdraws too quickly or too far today, who will fill the gap? Faith-based and community organizations do extraordinary work, but they often lack the reach and resources to replace entire public systems. The Church’s historic role in stepping up should be celebrated—but not presumed upon without support. And we must remember that even the Church, in some periods, became entangled in power and privilege. No institution—religious or political—is exempt from the temptations of imbalance or corruption.
Centuries later, as the world industrialized, new challenges emerged. The promise of technological advancement came at a steep cost. Factory labor replaced farm work. Urban slums grew. Poverty deepened. Governments, relying on the free market to self-correct, often stood by as exploitation spread.
Children worked long hours in dangerous conditions. Wages were low. Families struggled to survive. In response, Pope Leo XIII issued the groundbreaking encyclical Rerum Novarum in 1891, launching modern Catholic social teaching. He called for just wages, the dignity of labor, and the moral imperative of a just economy. And he affirmed the government’s rightful role in intervening when markets failed to uphold human dignity.
This, too, has relevance today. While markets can offer opportunity, they are not morally neutral. Without regulation, they can perpetuate injustice. A government that refuses to act in the face of human suffering is no less troubling than one that overreaches.
Importantly, industrialization’s dilemmas were not unique to Europe or North America. In countries like Japan, India, and Brazil, rapid modernization also strained communities. Some governments responded with protective reforms; others relied on grassroots labor movements. These examples remind us that the challenge of balancing freedom with fairness is global and ongoing.
So where does this leave us in the United States today? As our nation debates whether to scale back federal agencies, Catholics are called to think not just politically, but theologically. Our task is not merely to form opinions, but to form conscience.
We must ask: If social services are cut, who will care for the poor, the sick, and the elderly? If education funding is slashed, what happens to children in under-resourced communities? If environmental protections are weakened, who will safeguard the created world entrusted to us?
At the same time, we must also ask: Has government become too centralized, stifling creativity and local solutions? Are there faith-based or community-led efforts that could be more effective than federal programs? Does big government sometimes erode the rightful roles of families and local institutions?
The Catholic response is not either/or. It is both/and. The principle of subsidiarity urges us to address problems at the most local level possible—respecting family, community, and individual agency. But the principle of the common good reminds us that when local efforts fall short, the state has a moral duty to intervene.
In practical terms, this might mean expanding partnerships between parishes and public programs to care for the homeless, combining federal environmental standards with community stewardship, or advocating for labor policies that reduce the need for large welfare systems by promoting fair wages and family leave.
The Church does not promote a political ideology of “big government” or “small government.” It promotes rightly ordered government—government that protects human dignity, upholds justice, and serves the common good. As Christ taught, “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant.” A just government serves, not dominates; protects, not replaces.
History makes it clear that extremes are dangerous. Rome collapsed under the weight of its excess. The medieval world suffered from governmental absence. The industrial age exposed the harm of unregulated markets. Our own age must find a better way.
The real question isn’t how big government should be, but how just, compassionate, and morally grounded it is. We are called not to defend systems blindly, but to examine whether they serve life, family, and the poor.
And so, our call to action is clear:Engage. Think. Pray. Act.Participate in local and national dialogue—not to argue, but to witness. Support institutions that promote justice, mercy, and life. Discern policies not through partisan loyalty, but through the lens of the Gospel and the teachings of the Church.
A just society is not built on the size of its government, but on the strength of its moral foundation—and the courage of its people to pursue truth, love, and justice.
As Catholics, we belong to a faith that has walked alongside empires, republics, monarchies, and revolutions. Ours is not a passive faith. It is a faith that engages the world—armed with the wisdom of history and the hope of Christ.
May we never tire of building a society where government truly serves the people—and where every human life is valued, protected, and allowed to flourish.