Promoting Civic Education

America’s civic literacy crisis is fueling misinformation, apathy, and democratic decline — but rebuilding it may be our strongest defense.

A worn copy of the U.S. Constitution rests on a student desk in an empty classroom, surrounded by rows of vacant chairs in muted, desaturated tones, symbolizing the decline of civic education.

Civics class in America hasn’t just faded away—it’s been quietly pushed to the sidelines. What used to be a pillar of public school, teaching kids how government works, what their rights are, and why their voice matters, is now treated like an extracurricular activity, squeezed in only if there’s time. We’re seeing the fallout from this neglect every single day. When a generation grows up not knowing how democracy is supposed to work, how can we expect them to recognize when it’s breaking? This isn’t just a gap in our curriculum. It’s a full-blown democratic crisis.

It wasn’t always this way. For most of our history, we understood that civic education was the lifeblood of the republic. The Founders believed that an informed public was the only real defense against tyranny. In the 19th century, Horace Mann’s Common School Movement didn’t just aim to create good workers; it aimed to create responsible citizens by weaving civics and moral instruction into the very fabric of public education. By the mid-20th century, that idea had blossomed. Students often took separate classes in civics, U.S. government, and American history. They held mock trials, ran for student government, and debated constitutional issues. The point wasn’t just to memorize facts, but to develop critical thinking, a sense of civic duty, and a willingness to participate. Everyone understood that democracy has to be taught, practiced, and defended by every generation.

Today, that foundation has crumbled. Civics is often watered down into a single semester, if it’s taught at all. Only a handful of states require a full year of civics or government, and over a dozen don’t require it whatsoever. The reasons for this decline are as varied as they are worrying. In the push for higher test scores in math and reading, subjects that aren’t on the test, like civics, have been left behind. The funding tells the story: in 2021, the federal government spent over half a billion dollars on STEM, compared to just over $2 million on civics. This neglect hits unevenly, with wealthier, whiter school districts far more likely to offer quality civics than poorer schools with more students of color. And in our hyper-polarized world, many teachers are simply afraid to touch current events or constitutional debates, fearing backlash from parents or administrators. What’s left is a sterile, toothless version of civics that avoids the very questions our kids need to be asking.

This didn’t happen overnight. It was a slow-motion collapse caused by decades of policy choices and cultural shifts. The No Child Left Behind Act in 2001 was a major turning point, tying school funding to reading and math scores and effectively shoving civics out of the classroom. Our long-standing national obsession with STEM, which went into overdrive after Sputnik, also overshadowed the humanities. All the while, political polarization has turned classrooms into minefields, making teachers hesitant to lead the kind of messy, necessary conversations that build real understanding. Many teachers say they feel completely unprepared to teach the subject without better training or support. Over time, the “social studies shuffle” has diluted civics into a bland, catch-all category more focused on career readiness than on civic readiness.

So why does all this matter? Because this is about more than just knowing the three branches of government. It’s about raising a generation capable of governing itself. When people understand how their democracy is supposed to work, they’re more likely to fight for it. When they don’t, misinformation, apathy, and authoritarianism find fertile ground. A strong civics education gives people the tools to understand their rights, hold their leaders accountable, and spot manipulation from a mile away.

It also gets people involved. Studies show that good civics instruction—especially the hands-on kind with debates, simulations, and real-world projects—makes people more likely to vote and participate in their communities. It builds our democratic resilience, teaching us to recognize when our norms are being threatened and giving us the confidence to stand up and say something. Most importantly, it instills the belief that our voices actually matter, a lesson that is especially vital in communities that have been historically shut out of power.

In an age of rampant disinformation, civic literacy is a powerful antidote. If you don’t know how government works, it’s easy to believe it’s all rigged or irrelevant. A real civics education helps debunk conspiracy theories, rebuild trust, and strengthen the bonds between us. It teaches us not just how to vote, but how to listen, argue respectfully, and find common ground with people who see the world differently—skills that are essential for a diverse society to survive.

The good news is, we don’t have to wait for some sweeping federal reform to start fixing this. We can start right now. We can show up at school board meetings and ask what our districts are doing to teach civics. We can support legislation like the Civics Secures Democracy Act and donate to nonprofits that create free, high-quality lesson plans. Teachers can bring current events into the classroom and create a space where students feel safe to tackle tough questions. And policymakers can start investing in civics with the same seriousness they invest in STEM, by requiring it for graduation and giving teachers the support they need.

The stakes are incredibly high. Democracy doesn’t usually collapse overnight. It erodes, slowly and quietly, when a people forget how it works, why it matters, and what role they play in keeping it alive. The decay of civic education has created a dangerous vacuum, where lies spread faster than truth and cynicism is replacing engagement. We’re already seeing the effects in falling trust in our institutions and a quiet, growing tolerance for anti-democratic ideas.

This isn’t just a crisis of knowledge. It’s a crisis of belonging. When people don’t see themselves in our democracy, they check out. When they don’t know their rights, they can’t defend them. And when they believe their voice makes no difference, they stop using it.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Rebuilding civic education is one of the most practical, nonpartisan investments we can make in the future of our country. It’s how we equip the next generation to spot injustice, challenge overreach, and participate with purpose. It’s how we ensure that democracy isn’t just something we inherit, but something we earn, again and again.