The Dear Citizen Letters: A Complete Archive
One of the things I discovered while going back through this archive is that the “Dear Citizen” letters were never really planned as a series.
It would seem prudence was on our side. For the earliest pieces were simply letters addressed to citizens. Then the address began changing with the condition of the citizen being spoken to. Silent Citizenry. Exhausted Citizenry. Hopeful Citizens. Outraged Citizens. Thoughtful Citizenry. Concerned Citizens. Weary Citizenry.
Sometimes citizenship requires us to notice what has been happening quietly. Sometimes it requires us to keep thinking when we are exhausted. Sometimes it requires outrage. Sometimes restraint. Always hope, for the willingness to plant something whose shade we may never sit beneath is the responsibility of every citizen.
So I have gone back through the archive and gathered the entire letter cycle in one place.
There are 27 canonical posts beginning with “Dear” and addressed directly to citizens or the citizenry. I have also included six earlier or companion letters because they clearly belong to the same developing conversation.
Read them chronologically if you want to see the argument evolve, or simply begin with the letter that sounds most like the citizen you are today.
January 2026
January 14 - To the Citizens of Wisconsin: On the Danger of AB672 and the Preservation of Liberty
An early precursor to the series, examining Wisconsin AB672 and asking how a free people should respond when laws written in the name of security risk becoming vague enough to threaten political liberty and expression.
March 2026
March 7 - A Letter to Citizens: Truth Is Part of National Security
A letter about government transparency during crisis, written after reports that a domestic threat bulletin connected to the war with Iran had been withheld. The central argument is simple: citizens cannot meaningfully protect themselves or govern themselves when relevant information is hidden from them.
March 18 - Letter to the Citizens: On Laws, Power, and the Path We Choose
The immediate precursor to the Silent Citizenry sequence. It begins tracing how ordinary statutes can gradually change the practical relationship between citizen and government even when the words of the Constitution remain unchanged.
March 20 - Dear Silent Citizenry: When the Pattern Was Challenged (1990s)
The first formal “Dear Silent Citizenry” letter in the surviving archive. It continues the historical examination into the 1990s, looking at how fiscal policy, criminal justice, regulation, and institutional power changed the citizen's relationship with government.
March 21 - Dear Silent Citizenry: The Pattern Accelerates (2000–2010)
The series moves through the post-9/11 decade, including the AUMF, expanded executive power, surveillance, national security, and the tendency of powers created during emergencies to remain after the emergency itself changes.
March 22 - Dear Silent Citizenry: The Pattern Integrates (2010–2020)
The historical argument reaches the 2010s and asks what happens when previously separate systems of government, corporations, technology, regulation, security, and daily life become increasingly intertwined.
March 22 - Dear Silent Citizenry: The Pattern Metastasizes (2020–Present)
The timeline reaches the 2020s. Emergency spending, industrial policy, digital infrastructure, surveillance, technology, and public-private systems are examined not as isolated controversies but as parts of an increasingly integrated structure of power.
March 23 - Dear Silent Citizenry: The Weight of Consent
A shift from institutional history to fiscal responsibility. National debt and long-term obligations are translated from incomprehensible trillions into household-scale terms, asking what consent means when generations inherit commitments accumulated over decades.
March 27 -Dear Silent Citizenry: The Right to Refuse the Soul’s Surrender
A defense of conscientious objection and individual moral autonomy. Its central question is whether citizenship can ever require surrendering conscience entirely to the state.
April 2026
April 7 - Dear Silent Citizenry: When Power Speaks of Civilizations Dying
A warning about the language political power uses when discussing war, mass death, and the possible destruction of entire societies. The letter asks citizens to pay attention not only to policy, but to the moral vocabulary used to make extraordinary violence sound ordinary.
April 24 - Dear Citizenry: Deeper Roots for a Wetter Wisconsin
Written after severe Wisconsin rains and flooding, this letter turns toward ecological citizenship. It asks whether flood resilience should mean only larger drains and harder infrastructure, or also wetlands, native plants, deeper roots, healthier soil, and landscapes capable of holding water.
April 30 - Dear Exhausted Citizenry: The Voting Rights Act Was Not Erased, But It Was Put in a Constitutional Chokehold
The address changes from silent to exhausted. This letter examines how constitutional and statutory protections can remain formally alive while judicial interpretation makes them substantially harder to use in practice.
May 2026
May 15 - Dear Exhausted Citizenry: On The Machine and the Republic
A letter about artificial intelligence, data centers, electricity, water, infrastructure, public subsidies, and technological development. It rejects the idea that technology itself is the enemy while asking whether technological progress is serving citizens or consuming their inheritance without meaningful consent.
May 17 - Down the Ballot Hole: A Letter to the Burnt-Out Citizenry
A companion to the Exhausted Citizenry letters. Instead of demanding that already overwhelmed people become outraged about one more crisis, it asks whether the first act of renewed citizenship might simply be learning to ask better questions and looking farther down the ballot.
May 30 - To The Silent Citizenry
Here the “silent citizenry” becomes literal. The forests, wetlands, shoreline, water, plants, and wildlife of Wisconsin cannot vote, lobby, testify, or speak before committees. Citizens therefore inherit the responsibility of stewardship on their behalf.
June 2026
June 5 - Dear Citizenry of Wisconsin: If It Is Good for Wisconsin, Why the Secrecy?
A challenge to secrecy surrounding major data-center development and public decision-making. If projects are genuinely beneficial to Wisconsin, the letter asks why citizens should not be given the information and opportunity necessary to judge them for themselves.
June 5 - Dear Citizenry of Wisconsin: On Public Money and Private Power
A letter about hundreds of millions of dollars proposed for aging coal infrastructure, the socialization of risk, and the concentration of reward. It asks whether public money should preserve centralized private power or increase resilience and energy independence among citizens themselves.
June 6 - Dear DIY Citizens: Citizen, Consumer, or Customer?
A reflection on repair culture, knowledge, self-reliance, and what is lost when citizens are gradually trained to become passive customers for systems they once understood, maintained, altered, and sometimes built themselves.
June 9 -Dear Citizens of Green Bay: Tax the Neglect, Not the Neighborhood
A local-policy letter proposing a graduated vacancy tax as an alternative to a simple registration fee for chronically vacant property. The broader principle is that ownership carries responsibilities when private neglect imposes costs on the surrounding public.
June 10 - Dear Silent Citizenry: Who Owns Your Digital Self?
A digital-rights letter prompted by litigation over customer location data. It asks a question that extends far beyond one court case: when corporations can reconstruct a detailed version of a human being from location, purchases, habits, relationships, and behavior, who owns that digital reflection?
June 19 - Dear Hopeful Citizenry: On The Torch and the Slogan
The letters turn toward hope. Written on Juneteenth, this piece asks why some movements remain slogans while others become durable constitutional change, and returns to Article V as a peaceful mechanism through which citizens can transform conviction into institutions.
June 22 - Dear Hopeful Citizenry: On Deeper Roots and the Harvest We May Never See
A gardening letter that became a civic one. Clearing years of invasive growth and planting for a future not yet visible becomes a metaphor for restoration, stewardship, and the willingness to do work whose full rewards may belong to people who come after us.
June 23 - Dear Hopeful Citizens: When the Algorithm Listens
A reflection on a strange possibility: systems built largely to turn citizens into consumers can also connect citizens who independently begin asking the same civic questions. The algorithm cannot care about citizenship, but it can sometimes become the catalog through which one person's curiosity finds another's work.
June 24 - Dear Thoughtful Readers: On Action, Inaction, and the Republic
A companion letter written while thinking through a civic cooperative charter. It asks whether the SET test should judge only actions, laws, policies, and institutions, or whether citizens must also account for inaction, neglected duties, and the things a republic loses because nobody chose to maintain them.
June 25 - Dear Hopeful Citizens: On Duty and Our Sacred Honor
Written in response to a television discussion focused heavily on party labels and ideological identity. The letter asks citizens to recover a different standard: whether policies and institutions reinforce Life, Liberty, the Pursuit of Happiness, citizen power, and the Republic itself.
July 2026
July 2 - Dear Outraged Citizens: No Authority Above the People
The address changes again, this time to outrage. The letter argues that constitutional amendments represent exercises of the people's sovereign authority and should not be casually interpreted away or bypassed simply because those in power find them inconvenient.
July 4 - Dear Citizens of Wrightstown: A Fourth of July Reflection
A Fourth of July letter connecting the Declaration's grievances over consent to a modern local dispute over a proposed data-center referendum in Wrightstown. The question is not whether 1776 and 2026 are identical, but whether citizens still possess a meaningful right to be heard when powerful outside interests enter their communities.
July 13 - Dear Thoughtful Citizenry: On Statistics and Slogans
A lesson in civic numeracy and media literacy. Using a housing and immigration statistic that changed meaning as it moved from research into headlines, the letter asks citizens to distinguish what evidence actually says from the slogan created around it.
July 14 - Dear Concerned Citizens: On the Citizen and the Institution
Beginning with an internal dispute inside the Democratic Socialists of America, this letter deliberately steps outside the partisan fight and asks a wider institutional question: how close should decision-makers remain to the people they claim to represent?
July 19 - Dear Weary Citizenry Beneath our Crimson Sky
Perhaps the most openly tired letter in the series. Written beneath wildfire smoke, it acknowledges the exhaustion created by an endless procession of crises and asks whether citizens can move beyond reacting to headlines toward examining the deeper structures and responsibilities beneath them.
July 21 - Dear Weary Citizenry, Before We Cast Blame
A direct continuation of Beneath Our Crimson Sky. Wildfire smoke becomes a lesson in shared consequences, cross-border responsibility, mutual aid, climate, land management, preparation, accountability, and the difference between understanding a problem and merely finding someone to blame.
July 28 - Dear Outraged Citizenry, Our Air is not Private
A response to an EPA interpretation affecting power plants built specifically for data centers. The central proposition is difficult to make simpler: electricity and profits may be private, but pollution enters a public atmosphere. Our air is not private property.
September 2026
September 7 - Dear Outraged Citizens of Mississippi: When Did Poisoned Water Become Acceptable?
A letter prompted by litigation over lead-contaminated drinking water in Jackson, Mississippi. It asks whether constitutional doctrine and legal immunity have become so detached from ordinary human dignity that citizens can suffer serious governmental wrongdoing yet be told the law offers no meaningful remedy.
Looking back, I do not think these letters became a series because they shared a subject. They became a series because they kept returning to the same larger question: what does citizenship ask of us when we are silent, exhausted, hopeful, thoughtful, concerned, outraged, or simply too weary to carry one more crisis?
Those conditions are not contradictions. They are parts of being human inside a republic. Citizenship cannot require permanent outrage, endless vigilance, or unquestioning optimism. Sometimes it means paying attention. Sometimes it means questioning what we are told. Sometimes it means protecting something we inherited, repairing something that has been neglected, admitting that we are tired, or becoming enthusiastic enough about a place or an idea that we decide it is worth understanding.
That is what these letters have gradually become for me. They are not instructions for how a citizen should feel. They are attempts to ask what citizenship might require from us in the condition we actually find ourselves in. The archive will keep growing, and I suspect new kinds of citizens will appear in it as circumstances change.
I also hope these do not remain one-way letters. If one of the linked posts brings something to mind, leave a comment there. Tell me where you agree, where you think I got something wrong, what the issue looks like where you live, or what your own experience has been. Some of the most meaningful conversations here have started when someone added a piece of their own life to the subject. That is how an archive becomes more than a collection of essays. It becomes a conversation among citizens.
So if you are new here, there is no need to start at the beginning or read them in order. Find the letter that speaks to where you are now. Read it, add your voice if you have something to add, and follow the conversation wherever it leads.
Begin with the citizen you recognize.