Gracious reader,

This past weekend, we gathered 50 leaders for the inaugural Civic Renaissance Retreat, a feast for mind, body, and spirit.

It was an invitation-only retreat for leaders across politics, geography, and vocation who are dissatisfied with the status quo and want to build something new.

Former governors, state representatives, journalists from The Free Press and The Atlantic, educators, school board leaders, superintendents, and practitioners joined us because they care about building an era of multidimensional human flourishing across difference, starting with ourselves.

That was the whole invitation of the weekend.

There were no preconditions and no litmus tests other than this: you cared about building something better, something that does not yet exist.

Why We Gathered

In our divided age, we vacillate between two extremes: hostility and politeness.

Hostility sees others as pawns to be steamrolled, silenced, and forced into agreement.

Politeness sees others as pawns to be managed, smoothed over, and kept comfortable rather than engaged honestly.

Both reflect something deeper: a crisis of dehumanization.

We are not seeing ourselves or one another clearly, as human beings with inherent dignity and worth.

This retreat was an answer to that crisis.

We did not gather to reduce division.

We gathered to flourish across difference.

What We Did

We began by embodying the world we want to build.

We embodied flourishing across difference, abundance, conversation, rest, and the possibility of seeing one another in the fullness of who we are.

I called the Civic Renaissance Retreat a feast for mind, body, and spirit because we are trying to recover a full sense of what it means to be human—mind, body, and spirit.

There was incredible food. Each feast, prepared by Chef Brandon and Chef Conor, carried us into a different golden age, from Ancient Greece at the opening reception to the French Enlightenment the next day, then Florence for Saturday lunch, and finally a Spanish golden age with a closing paella celebration. We had beautiful, intentional, curated meals and gatherings. We had time to rest. We had time to think. We had time to connect.

It was not only a space for reflection and renewal, but a living expression of joy, laughter, games, singing, karaoke, and toasts, a reminder that this work is meant to be embodied and shared together.

It was an unconference as well, with space for spontaneous conversation, because often the best part of a conference is the conversation over lunch, in the hallway, or in the quiet moments between sessions.

We wanted to structure an entire retreat around those moments.

Because we believe in the power of people getting in a room together and building.

What We Saw

One of the most powerful moments of the weekend was our evening with Daryl Davis.

Daryl is an African American jazz musician and a wonderful friend who has spent decades seeking out and befriending members of hate groups.

His whole premise is simple: how can they hate me if they do not even know me?

He told us about people who originally hated him, who denied his right to exist, and who, through friendship and curiosity, changed.

More than 200 members of these groups have given him their robes, flags, and memorabilia as a sign that they were leaving those views behind.

But not every story ends that way.

There are people Daryl has befriended who still hold hateful, dehumanizing views, and yet they remain in relationship.

Daryl said, I think you are wrong, and I am going to tell you I think you are wrong, but I am still going to see you in the fullness of who you are as a human being.

That is unbundling people.

It is seeing one part of someone in light of the whole of who they are.

We live in a strange era of perfectionism, litmus tests, and orthodoxies. We think that because we know one thing about someone, we know everything about them.

Daryl challenges us to reconsider that.

The goal of this work is not agreement.

We are going to disagree.

The question is whether we can maintain the humanity of one another through disagreement.

What We Learned

The next morning, we were joined by Mitch Daniels.

We asked how each of us can bring out the best in others at a time when many leaders bring out the worst.

One participant said something that stayed with me: our task is to relearn democracy.

In a democracy, the citizen is prior to the state.

We have more power than we realize to be part of the solution, not just by holding leaders accountable, but by getting to work ourselves.

We are building a renaissance starting with ourselves.

What Became Possible

In one session on education, something else took shape.

A homeschooling leader, a public school superintendent, and a school board vice president sat at the same table.

Different worlds. Different assumptions.

And yet, they found real agreement.

Education is about cultivating our humanity. It is about unlocking human potential. It is about ordering our passions, bringing forth what is most noble in us, and relegating the ignoble to its proper place.

It is about lifelong learning.

It is about forming human beings who know their own minds, who can serve others, and who can flourish.

And then the group agreed on something else.

No system is perfect.

Public, private, charter, homeschool. Each can be beautiful, and each can fail, because each is made of human beings.

We have to take this case by case, family by family, child by child.

There are no broad brushes here.

As Blaise Pascal suggested, the human condition is defined by both greatness and wretchedness.

That recognition made the conversation honest.

What We Are Building

This retreat was a glimpse of the world we are trying to build: a world of multidimensional flourishing across difference.

We are building it by gathering people who would not otherwise be in the same room.

We are building it by creating spaces where people can rest, think, speak honestly, and see one another clearly.

We are building it by refusing the two failures of our age: hostility, which steamrolls others, and politeness, which manages difference without engaging it.

We are building it by practicing civility instead.

Civility is not politeness. Politeness is technique. Civility is an inner disposition rooted in recognizing the inherent dignity of others.

This means we can disagree without dehumanizing. We can name what is wrong without reducing a person to one thing. We can build trust across difference without pretending difference does not exist.

We are building it in schools, where children are formed as full human beings, not merely prepared to be cogs in a machine.

We are building it in communities, where neighbors, mayors, educators, parents, journalists, and civic leaders can sit at the same table and ask what kind of world they want to leave behind.

We are building it in our own lives, by beginning with ourselves.

That is the work of Civic Renaissance.

What Comes Next

If you joined us for the retreat, share in the comments what you most enjoyed. If this sounds like something you want to be part of in the future, please reach out.

We began the weekend by embodying the world we want to build.

We gathered to embody a world of multidimensional flourishing across difference.

Then we left commissioned to build it.

That is the project.

A renaissance—starting with each of us.

In the news:

• Art Life Faith Podcast: The Soul of Civility with Alexandra Hudson

  Welcome to the Art Life Faith podcast, and I’m your host, Roger Lowther. In this episode I had the privilege of having a conversation with Alexandra Hudson, or Lexi, the author of “The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves.” A number of weeks ago, she was passing through Tokyo on vacation with her family when she was gracious enough to sit down with me and talk about the various themes in her book and then lead an Art Life Faith event right afterward.

• Fox 21 News: Reclaiming Civility: Cultivating connection and respect in Colorado Springs

• Fox 59: 11th annual Fairbanks Symposium- Watch here

  A media interview about The Civic Renaissance Tour Launch in Indianapolis

• A podcast interview with Michael Lee of the University of Charleston, When We Disagree Podcast: The Soul of Civility, Tested

  What does civility demand when justice is costly and deeply personal? Alexandra Hudson, author of The Soul of Civility and founder of Civic Renaissance, shares a raw story about how being scammed sparked both a lengthy legal battle and a profound disagreement with her husband over whether to fight or walk away. Through that conflict, Hudson wrestles with whether civility means politeness or principled confrontation, and what it costs our families when moral crusades take over our lives. The episode explores civility not as courteousness or softness, but as disciplined respect for human dignity even when the stakes are high and the gloves stay firmly on.

• Review of The Soul of Civility in Indiana Capital Chronicle: With all due respect

  Hudson is not alone in her pursuit for civility. A recent surveyshared by the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and Institute’s Center on Civility and Democracy reported that 72% of Americans want to see more civility in our nation’s politics. The same survey found that Americans are divided on their outlook for our nation’s future, split nearly in half over whether to be optimistic or pessimistic about our ability to come together.

• Review of The Soul of civility in Bitterroot Star: Disagree better

  Our community is full of independent people who don’t like being told what to think. That’s a strength. But independence only works if we can argue honestly without tearing each other apart in the process. This book doesn’t offer a program or a slogan. It offers a reminder of the habits that make self-government possible.

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

The Freedom of Limits

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

Japan is often held up as a model of social order and harmony. After two weeks there with my family, I understood why almost immediately.

When I first arrived, I loved nearly everything I saw. The streets were spotless despite a virtual absence of public trash cans. The trains were quiet, orderly, and astonishingly calm. Public life felt light because everyone seemed to carry their own weight. People were restrained, attentive, careful not to impose. It was not merely efficient. It was beautiful. It felt like living inside a society where people take responsibility for the shared world.

And then, after a little more time, after conversations with locals, after getting beneath the surface, I began to see some tradeoffs—ones that did not make me admire Japan less, but helped me understand it better. It also gave me a sharper way to think about one of the central arguments of my book, The Soul of Civility: civility and politeness are not the same thing.

Japan was, in that sense, the perfect place to test the theory.

Obedience to the Unenforcable

In an impromptu speech he gave at the Authors’ Club in London, later published in The Atlantic in 1924 as Law and Manners, Lord Moulton’s coined an important phrase that accurately describes Japan: the obedience to the unenforceable.

He used this term to described the vast sphere of life governed not by law, but by voluntary self-restraint. Obedience to the unenforceable is the quiet discipline of governing ourselves where no law can compel us, choosing restraint, honesty, and consideration even when no one is watching.

Japan is a supremely self-governing society, and one of the first examples of this that you notice in Japan is that there are almost no public trash cans. You buy something, finish it, and carry the wrapper with you until you get back to your hotel or find a place that will take it. And yet there is almost no public litter. The result is not just clean streets. It is a whole moral atmosphere. You become more aware of your own conduct. You are less casual with your waste, less entitled about your convenience, less inclined to assume that someone else will absorb the cost of your poor conduct.

That pattern repeated itself everywhere.

We took train rides all over Japan, including on the Shinkansen, and the whole system seemed to run on the assumption that of course you had paid. There were conductors and turnstiles, but the atmosphere was not one of suspicion. No one asked to see my ticket. Not once. The system did not seem braced against the expectation that people would cheat if given the chance.

One experience in particular stayed with me. Children six and under ride free, so on one leg of the trip we had not bought train tickets for our kids. But then it was so crowded that we decided to buy them tickets anyway so they would have seats and not be piled on top of us. As we went through, a woman came over, asked how old our children were, and then insisted on refunding us because they were eligible to ride free.

You can hardly imagine that happening at an American train station. There was no shrug, no well, you should have checked, no better luck next time. She corrected the overpayment because it was not right for us to pay what we did not owe.

That struck me as more than mere niceness. It revealed a deeper social logic. Japan felt, to me, like an adult society. A mature society. A society in which the system is not constantly tensed against the expectation that people will grab, evade, vandalize, or impose. It called to mind Lord Moulton’s old phrase, the obedience to the unenforceable. The health of a free society depends on a vast zone of conduct that no law can adequately regulate. It depends on people choosing to act well when no one is forcing them to do so.

Japan made that visible.

What I saw there was a society that had cultivated habits of self-command to a remarkable degree. Public life was pleasant not because there was a policeman on every corner managing every microsocial interaction, but because people had internalized norms of restraint and regard for others. I hardly saw law enforcement at all. I heard maybe one siren the entire trip. The order did not seem to be imposed mainly from outside. It seemed to be upheld from within.

And then we landed in New York.

Culture Shock

On the way home, three flights were canceled in one day, and we ended up stranded in Manhattan overnight. The cultural whiplash was immediate. In Japan, for two weeks, no stranger had tried to chat with me on the street. In hospitality settings people were attentive and thoughtful, but ordinary public life seemed governed by a simple norm: do not inconvenience anyone, do not intrude, do not impose.

Then, within minutes of walking in New York, a man complimented my shoes, asked if I needed directions, and then, in the same breath, asked me to donate to support his music career via QR code.

It was almost too on the nose.

After Japan, I could suddenly see American public life with fresh eyes. I noticed the trash piled high on corners. I noticed police officers everywhere, and felt grateful for them. I noticed the friction, the noise, the sense that public space was not exactly shared so much as continually negotiated. The contrast was clarifying, not because Japan is perfect and America is not, but because Japan had sharpened my awareness of how much freedom depends on self-government.

That, in turn, brought me back to a point I make in The Soul of Civility. If we do not sufficiently govern ourselves, governments will always be tempted to do it for us.

Obedience to the unenforceable, tested

Not long ago, Western democracies experimented rather openly with this temptation. In New York, under Mayor Bloomberg, public officials tried to regulate a whole range of rude and antisocial behaviors that are annoying, yes, but very difficult to police without drifting into pettiness and overreach.

In Britain, Tony Blair’s Respect campaign was animated by a similar impulse. The instinct behind these efforts is understandable. No one enjoys being surrounded by boorishness. But the problem remains: manners cannot be sustainably outsourced to the state. A free society needs citizens who can moderate their conduct voluntarily. Otherwise every irritation becomes a policy problem, and every bad habit invites bureaucratic correction. I explore both of these case studies—and a third experiment in Paris around the same tim—in Chapter Four of The Soul of Civility.

So far, Japan seemed to confirm my thesis.

And then came the more interesting part.

The Civic Renaissance tour Launch in Japan

Prior to our trip, I was connected by a friend to a local Japanese organization called Community Arts Tokyo, who invited me to partner with them on an event. After recording a podcast, we gathered around a table with Japanese guests for dinner and conversation, and there I had the chance to explore more directly the distinction I have long argued for between civility and politeness.

Politeness is manners, etiquette, technique. It is external. It concerns forms, signals, presentation, the visible grammar of respectability.

Civility is something deeper. It is an inner disposition of the heart rooted in recognizing the inherent dignity of others. It is a way of seeing others as they really are, beings with dignity and equal moral worth, worthy of a bare minimum of respect simply by virtue of our shared personhood.

Those things often overlap. They are not, however, the same.

That difference became much sharper in Tokyo.

We spent the first part of the evening trying to define the distinction between civility and politeness itself. Was there a word in Japanese that captured merely the external performance of respect, detached from inward regard? We struggled to find one. I do not want to make too much of a linguistic point I cannot prove with confidence. But the exercise itself was revealing. The distinction felt harder to isolate, harder to pull apart neatly.

Then our hosts began describing some of the costs of living in such a highly ordered and deferential society.

Several said that when they first went to America, they felt they discovered themselves there for the first time. I found that remarkable. America, to them, represented not only disorder but freedom. Japan was beautiful, coherent, refined. It could also feel constraining. The social order was strong, but so were the pressures of conformity.

I asked how people express dissent in relationships and in workplaces. How do they disagree? How do they challenge authority? How do they repair after conflict?

What I heard was sobering.

In personal relationships, sometimes people simply stop speaking rather than work through a disagreement directly. Silence is easier, and more socially acceptable, than open conflict. In professional settings, critiquing a superior can be difficult. Managing up is hard. Honest disagreement does not move easily in a society that places such a high premium on deference and harmony.

That was the point at which the whole trip came into focus for me.

Japan had shown me, in extraordinary detail, what public life can look like when people exercise restraint, take responsibility, and refuse to make every private impulse everyone else’s problem. It had also shown me that outward harmony can coexist with inward compression. A society can be exceptionally well-mannered and still struggle with truth-telling. It can be orderly and courteous and still make dissent costly. It can smooth the surface of social life while leaving less room for candor, confrontation, and repair.

That is why the distinction between civility and politeness matters.

Politeness can make life more pleasant. It can reduce friction, produce order, and make shared spaces more livable. Anyone who has spent time in Japan can see that. But politeness alone does not solve the harder human problem. It does not tell us how to disagree honestly. It does not tell us how to challenge bad authority. It does not tell us how to remain in relationship when something true and difficult needs to be said.

A flourishing society needs restraint, yes. It also needs candor. It needs consideration for others, and it needs the courage to tell the truth without treating the other person as disposable. It needs forms that make daily life humane, and it needs an inner disposition strong enough to bear disagreement without dehumanization.

That, to me, is the lesson.

What I brought home from Japan was not a blueprint, but a sharper question. Can a society cultivate restraint, order, and responsibility in public life without drifting into conformity, deference, and silence? Japan shows what is gained when people govern themselves well. It also suggests what may be lost when harmony becomes too costly to disturb. America needs more discipline in public life, but not at the price of honesty. The challenge is to build a culture that can bear both.

But we should not confuse surface harmony with the whole of human flourishing. A society that cannot say hard things will pay for that silence somewhere. If truth has no honorable place to go, it does not vanish. It goes underground.

Beyond politeness and hostiltiy, toward civiltiy

I came home more persuaded than ever that we need both what Japan has cultivated so well—a shared sense of duty to neighbor. We need more responsibility, more restraint, more regard for the shared world. But collective consciencousness is not enough. We also need forms of honesty robust enough to survive discomfort, disagreement, and difference.

That is our task: to move beyond the two dehumanizing extremes between which we are stuck, American-style hostility shrouded in honesty and Japanese-style politeness. One treats the other person as an enemy to be crushed. The other can treat the person as a problem to be managed rather than someone to be truly known. Neither sees the person clearly. Civility, grounded in human dignity, offers a better way: telling the truth in a manner the other can hear, and grappling with difference directly out of respect rather than smoothing it over or turning it into war.

Japan did not make me want America to become Japanese. It made me want us to grow up a little. To not litter, certainly. But also to carry the heavier burden of freedom—to choose liberty, not license—which requires that we see others as they really are, treat them with the resepct thye are due and modulate our conduct accordinyly… ideally without needing the state to regulate every corner of our common life.

Good manners can keep a train quiet. They cannot, on their own, build a free people.

Discussion questions

1. What do we gain when a society cultivates restraint, order, and consideration for others, and what can be lost if those norms become too rigid?

2. Where, in our own communities, do we see a failure of what Lord Moulton called obedience to the unenforceable—the self-governance that makes democracy work?

3. How do you create a culture where people are considerate without becoming timid—honest but not hostile?

4. For further reading, see this amazing essay I read this morning explroing what Simone Weil’s A Poem of Force says about our crisis of dehumanizing hostiltiy. I absolutely loved it!!

Share your thoughts in the comments!

In the news:

• Fox 21 News: Reclaiming Civility: Cultivating connection and respect in Colorado Springs

• A media interview about The Civic Renaissance Launch in Indianapolis last week - Fox 59: 11th annual Fairbanks Symposium- Watch here

• A podcast interview with Michael Lee of the University of Charleston, When We Disagree Podcast: The Soul of Civility, Tested

  What does civility demand when justice is costly and deeply personal? Alexandra Hudson, author of The Soul of Civility and founder of Civic Renaissance, shares a raw story about how being scammed sparked both a lengthy legal battle and a profound disagreement with her husband over whether to fight or walk away. Through that conflict, Hudson wrestles with whether civility means politeness or principled confrontation, and what it costs our families when moral crusades take over our lives. The episode explores civility not as courteousness or softness, but as disciplined respect for human dignity even when the stakes are high and the gloves stay firmly on.

• Review of The Soul of Civility in Indiana Capital Chronicle: With all due respect

  Hudson is not alone in her pursuit for civility. A recent surveyshared by the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and Institute’s Center on Civility and Democracy reported that 72% of Americans want to see more civility in our nation’s politics. The same survey found that Americans are divided on their outlook for our nation’s future, split nearly in half over whether to be optimistic or pessimistic about our ability to come together.

• Review of The Soul of civility in Bitterroot Star: Disagree better

  Our community is full of independent people who don’t like being told what to think. That’s a strength. But independence only works if we can argue honestly without tearing each other apart in the process. This book doesn’t offer a program or a slogan. It offers a reminder of the habits that make self-government possible.

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

Paideia, Humanitas, Civility and Education

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

I’m looking forward to seeing you at our monthly meeting tonight at 7:30 Eastern. You can access the meeting here.

I’m excited to share a few updates with you, including what we learned from testing the distinction between civility and politeness during our Civic Renaissance tour in Japan, reflections from …

Read more

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Gracious reader,

Over the past several weeks, the Civic Renaissance Tour has taken shape in a way that clarifies both the need and the opportunity in front of us.

In Colorado Springs, I saw something that is becoming a pattern across the country, one that gives me hope for the future of our country and our world. The Soul of Civility in Action, a Civic Renaissance Playbook, is no longer theoretical.

Across the country, communities are beginning to move through four phases— Discover, Ignite, Embody, Celebrate—that position them to be hubs of renewal.

Last week in Colorado Springs, I watched this process take root in real time.

Discover

A few years ago, two local leaders, Lori Leander and Lisa Brandt, encountered The Soul of Civility. They did not treat it as an interesting set of ideas. They treated it as a starting point. They began placing the book into the hands of mayors, council members, and civic leaders across their region, not as a gesture, but as an invitation to build something shared.

That is where this work always begins.

A community must first develop a shared language. Not politeness as surface technique, but civility as an inner disposition, a way of seeing others as they are, human beings with dignity, equal moral worth, and claims on our respect. Without that foundation, nothing durable can be built.

Ignite

From that foundation, Colorado Springs moved into what I call the Ignite phase.

Over two days, we convened leaders across the region. The mayor, members of city council, school leaders, philanthropists, and institutional heads gathered in the same room. We partnered with Braver Angels, and I was in dialogue with Maury Giles.

What emerged was not theoretical.

The region is facing real strain. A recent controversy over a proposed Buc-ee’s development revealed something deeper than a zoning dispute. It exposed a breakdown in how disagreement is carried. Residents, leaders, and stakeholders were not merely divided. They were wounded by the way conflict unfolded.

This is not unique to Colorado Springs.

How to flourish through disagreement

Across the country, the issue is not whether disagreement exists. It is whether we know how to carry it without dehumanizing one another, and whether we know how to repair relationships afterward.

Those two variables—how we engage conflict and whether we reconcile after it—determine whether difference strengthens a community or fractures it.

In Colorado Springs, leaders named the problem clearly. Then they asked the right question:

What would it look like to build a city where difference becomes a source of strength rather than strain?

That question moved us into action.

The following day, we convened a leaders’ roundtable with roughly forty decision-makers across sectors. This was not a discussion for its own sake. It was a working session. The goal was to leave with direction, ownership, and a path forward.

Embody

From that session, an Embody phase has now begun. Leaders are taking responsibility for carrying this work into schools, workplaces, civic institutions, and local networks. They are identifying who else must be at the table and what must be built next.

Parallel to this, philanthropy stepped in.

A few months ago, after I shared about the Colorado Springs Civic Renaissance launch, Will reached out to me independently. He leads a foundation in Colorado Springs and said he wanted to be part of what is being built there. He is now a Civic Renaissance Ambassador—a program I built to invite local leaders to be co-creators as we bring the ideal of flourishing across difference to life. This is how this work moves from conversation to capacity building locally.

Will then hosted a lunch at his foundation with regional philanthropic leaders. He gifted each of them a copy of The Soul of Civility in advance, and many arrived having read it and participated in the convening the day before.

The conversation centered on a question that history answers clearly:

What is the role of patronage in moments like this?

From Renaissance Florence to other periods of renewal, the answer is consistent. Cultural and civic transformation requires people who are willing to invest in the conditions that allow it to take root.

Colorado Springs is now moving in that direction.

Celebrate

This work is being built and positions the region clearly as a hub of renewal. I will be back in September in Colorado Springs to help consolidate and perpetuate this work.

But this is not a linear progression.

Discover, Ignite, Embody, Celebrate is not a sequence you complete. It is a cycle you return to, bringing new people and voices into the fold each time.

A community must continually rediscover its shared language, reignite its commitments, embody them in practice, and celebrate what is taking root.

This is what the Civic Renaissance Tour is designed to do. Not to host events, but to help communities move from language to structure, from insight to practice, from aspiration to something that can endure. This work helps communities move from shared language to durable civic architecture.

I serve as a civic architect: my book a canvas, myself a catalyst, empowering local leaders to decide what they want to build, and then to build it.

There is a place for you here

This work is already underway in multiple regions across the country. The pattern is becoming clearer. When leaders are given shared language, a structured convening, and a path to implementation, they begin building.

Share

If you are responsible for shaping a community or institution, and you can see the cost of division firsthand, whether in government, education, philanthropy, or civic life, and you are looking for a way to move beyond managing conflict toward building something stronger, I would welcome the conversation.

Later this month, we will gather a small group of leaders for a Civic Renaissance Retreat here in Indianapolis. This will be an invitation-only working convening, including Mitch Daniels and Daryl Davis, whose work offers a concrete example of what it means to engage difference without dehumanization.

The aim is to leave with work that will be carried forward, not ideas that stay in the room.

To bring together people who are ready not only to discuss these ideas, but to carry them into the institutions and communities they are responsible for shaping.

If that is the kind of work you are trying to do, there is a place for you in this.

Thank you for being here.

Warmly,

Lexi

Subscribe now

In the news:

• Fox 21 News: Reclaiming Civility: Cultivating connection and respect in Colorado Springs

• A media interview about The Civic Renaissance Launch in Indianapolis last week - Fox 59: 11th annual Fairbanks Symposium- Watch here

• A podcast interview with Michael Lee of the University of Charleston, When We Disagree Podcast: The Soul of Civility, Tested

  What does civility demand when justice is costly and deeply personal? Alexandra Hudson, author of The Soul of Civility and founder of Civic Renaissance, shares a raw story about how being scammed sparked both a lengthy legal battle and a profound disagreement with her husband over whether to fight or walk away. Through that conflict, Hudson wrestles with whether civility means politeness or principled confrontation, and what it costs our families when moral crusades take over our lives. The episode explores civility not as courteousness or softness, but as disciplined respect for human dignity even when the stakes are high and the gloves stay firmly on.

• Review of The Soul of Civility in Indiana Capital Chronicle: With all due respect

  Hudson is not alone in her pursuit for civility. A recent surveyshared by the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and Institute’s Center on Civility and Democracy reported that 72% of Americans want to see more civility in our nation’s politics. The same survey found that Americans are divided on their outlook for our nation’s future, split nearly in half over whether to be optimistic or pessimistic about our ability to come together.

• Review of The Soul of civility in Bitterroot Star: Disagree better

  Our community is full of independent people who don’t like being told what to think. That’s a strength. But independence only works if we can argue honestly without tearing each other apart in the process. This book doesn’t offer a program or a slogan. It offers a reminder of the habits that make self-government possible.

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

Paideia, Humanitas, Civility and Education

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

Civic Renaissance is no longer merely an idea, a publication, or an aspiration.

It is now a transformation that is well underway, taking root in real communities with real leaders who are choosing to build.

• In Shelbyville, IN, a divided community gathered and left with tools.

• In Texas, legislators are using The Soul of Civility to strengthen their institution.

• Last week in Indianapolis, 150 leaders filled a room with a single shared conviction: we cannot change our neighbors, but we can change ourselves, and that is where renewal begins.

• In 2026, we have the privilege of bringing The Civic Renaissance Tour to several dozen communities, countries, and institutions on the Civic Renaissance Tour, a place-based effort to come alongside local leaders and help them move from conversation to construction, bringing the ideas of The Soul of Civility off the page and into lived, institutional practice. Phoenix, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Urbandale, California, Colorado Springs, Boulder, Denver, London, Rome, and many others. In each place, there are Civic Renaissance Ambassadors who care about their cities and are committed to building durable civic architecture that helps their communities flourish across difference. I am grateful to come alongside them and support the work already underway.

Share

Over the past two and a half years, I traveled to 145 cities and five countries sharing the ideas in my book.

That was the season of discovery and observation. How are these ideas being used and brought to life? I watched and I listened.

Now, we are in the season of construction.

Across the country, people are asking the same question: now what? How do we move from reading about civility to building institutions shaped by it? How do we translate conviction into daily practice?

The Civic Renaissance Tour and Retreat are our answer.

The Civic Renaissance Retreat

On April 24 and 25, we will gather at my home in Indianapolis for two days devoted to civic architecture, not abstraction. You will not leave with inspiration alone. You will leave with a defined Embody plan, relationships with fellow builders, and a shared path forward. We will decide what this movement is, define what it can become, identify who must be at the table, and determine how it grows from here.

This will be serious work. It will also be joyful: A feast for mind, body, and spirit. We will cultivate space to think, space to plan, space to play, and space to remember that civic life can be ordered toward dignity rather than division.

Tomorrow, Sunday, March 1, at 5 p.m. Eastern, I am hosting a vision session—both for the retreat and for this movement. I will lay out the structure of the retreat and the outcomes we are building toward. Then I want to hear from you. What are you facing in your city or institution? What would make this gathering catalytic—one that you would be excited to join?

If you sense the division in our world, if it is palpable in your workplace, your school, your church, or your community, and you want to be part of the solution rather than another spectator to the problem, I invite you to gather with me and others who care just as much about rebuilding what feels fractured.

Voices of Experience: Learning from Mitch Daniels & Daryl Davis, Leaders Who Have Done the Work

At the retreat, we will be joined by world class statesman Mitch Daniels, whose leadership as governor of Indiana and president of Purdue University demonstrates how serious institutions can be guided with steadiness and long-term vision.

We will also be joined by Daryl Davis, who has spent decades engaging members of the Ku Klux Klan in conversation and has persuaded many to renounce hatred, offering a living example of what patient, principled engagement can accomplish.

If you already know that The Civic Renaissance retreat is a weekend retreat you want to be part of, claim your spot here. We are capping registration, and space is EXTREMELY limited. (Few scholarships available—write to me with your questions about this.)

Claim your spot here

Whether you’ve already registered or are still discerning, if you feel the fracture in our culture and refuse to step back from the work of repair, this is for you.

The link to register for tomorrow’s (Sunday) vision session is here.

The work has begun. It is making a difference.

Join us.

Warmly,

Lexi

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In the news:

• A media interview about The Civic Renaissance Launch in Indianapolis last week - Fox 59: 11th annual Fairbanks Symposium- Watch here

• A podcast interview with Michael Lee of the University of Charleston, When We Disagree Podcast: The Soul of Civility, Tested

  What does civility demand when justice is costly and deeply personal? Alexandra Hudson, author of The Soul of Civility and founder of Civic Renaissance, shares a raw story about how being scammed sparked both a lengthy legal battle and a profound disagreement with her husband over whether to fight or walk away. Through that conflict, Hudson wrestles with whether civility means politeness or principled confrontation, and what it costs our families when moral crusades take over our lives. The episode explores civility not as courteousness or softness, but as disciplined respect for human dignity even when the stakes are high and the gloves stay firmly on.

• Review of The Soul of Civility in Indiana Capital Chronicle: With all due respect

  Hudson is not alone in her pursuit for civility. A recent surveyshared by the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and Institute’s Center on Civility and Democracy reported that 72% of Americans want to see more civility in our nation’s politics. The same survey found that Americans are divided on their outlook for our nation’s future, split nearly in half over whether to be optimistic or pessimistic about our ability to come together.

• Review of The Soul of civility in Bitterroot Star: Disagree better

  Our community is full of independent people who don’t like being told what to think. That’s a strength. But independence only works if we can argue honestly without tearing each other apart in the process. This book doesn’t offer a program or a slogan. It offers a reminder of the habits that make self-government possible.

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

Paideia, Humanitas, Civility and Education

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

This past week marked a visible milestone for Civic Renaissance.

In Texas, members of the state legislature invited their peers to read The Soul of Civility together. A member-led experiment, quiet but serious, is unfolding inside of one of our nation’s most polarized institutions. Leaders there are turning to my book to help them navigate our crisis of dehumanization. I will be back in Austin this week to continue that work.

In Shelbyville, Indiana, we launched the Civic Renaissance Tour: A church-led, community-wide effort to take these ideas off the page and into schools, churches, and civic life. On Thursday night, the room was full. On Friday morning, we sat around tables and built a plan. Superintendents, city council members, pastors, and local leaders asked the same question in different ways: what does this look like here?

All of that mattered. All of it was good.

And yet the moment that stayed with me most this week did not happen on a stage, or in a council chamber, or around a conference table.

It happened on the phone, with a car dealership service manager.

It was a personal victory that was more important to me than these great public ones.

The story.

Last year, my car was stolen from our driveway. We eventually got it back and took it to the dealership to be repaired. We paid for what we were told was a complete fix, with a two-year warranty. Months later, water started getting into the vehicle. Then the battery failed. The dealership refused to take responsibility.

I was angry. I felt wronged. I felt justified.

I left negative reviews. I was sharp on the phone. I replayed the situation in my head, again and again. It took up far more space in my interior life than it deserved. Eventually I thought, with some embarrassment, that I might need to sell the car simply because I could not bear to deal with this one person anymore.

That is when I realized how upside down things had become.

On Thursday morning, as I was packing to drive to Shelbyville to launch the Civic Renaissance Tour, a quiet but persistent thought surfaced. I cannot stand in front of a community and speak about flourishing across difference if I am not willing to practice it when it costs me something.

So I called the service manager of the dealership.

The conversation did not begin with the car. It began with Christmas, with getting sick over the holidays, with kids, with hosting. For twenty minutes we talked as human beings. The tension softened.

Then I said what I needed to say.

I told him I was sorry. I told him I had not shown up well in our previous conversations. I regretted being unkind. This was not who I want to be. I told him, a little awkwardly, that I had written a book about learning how to live well with others across difference, and that in this small but real disagreement, I had failed to live up to my own ideals.

He was gracious. He accepted my apology. We worked out a solution.

By the end, the car barely mattered—and I was ready to have him and his wife for dinner. Repair had led to a stronger friendship than I ever thought possible with my car dealership’s service manager.

I realized that this work matters: that the promise our differences can bring out the best in us, and that conflict can strengthen relationships, is true.

I lived it out firsthand.

What has stayed with me was the physical lightness that followed. The release of resentment and bitterness that had been weighing on me without my realizing it, draining my joy and my will for this work in ways I had not fully appreciated.

The sense of being back in proper alignment was electrifying.

I may have been right about the facts, but I was wrong about what mattered most. I had forgotten the person on the other side of the exchange.

This work is not about perfection. It cannot be. We are human beings, which means we will fall. All of us. We will lose our cool. We will say things we regret. We will forget to see the dignity of the person in front of us when we are tired, stressed, or convinced of our own righteousness.

The question is not whether we will fail. The question is whether we become fluent in repair.

Can we apologize without self-justification? Can we forgive without keeping score? Can we hold the personhood and dignity of the other in view when it would feel easier not to?

Private conduct matters. It always has.

Public initiatives, institutions, and movements rest on the habits we practice when no one is watching.

This work begins there, or it does not begin at all.

As I explore in my book, character is habit long continued, and integrity is what happens when all the parts of the self make sense together.

We cannot be publicly for a school, an institution, or a cause, and privately undermine it through how we live. Making mistakes does not mean we lack character. We will make mistakes. Character is revealed in what we do next. It is shown in our willingness to correct what we have done wrong, to repair what we have damaged, and to bring our private conduct back into alignment with our public commitments. That work is not incidental to who we are. It is who we are.

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Shelbyville: The Civic Renaissance Tour Begins

That theme echoed again in Shelbyville. The community is navigating a contentious local issue involving a proposed data center. The divide is not cleanly partisan. It is urban and rural. Neighbors who feel sold out by leaders they once trusted. On Thursday night we named the tension honestly. On Friday morning, we asked a different question: what power do we already have?

The answer surprised some people. More than we think.

Reading groups forming immediately. Schools engaging the children’s book. Churches hosting conversations. Leaders committing to live this not as a program but as a way of life. The book is a catalyst, not the end. I am a catalyst, not the solution. The goal is a durable, local culture that can outlast any one visit or initiative.

Texas State Legislature: The Civic Renaissance Tour Continues

Texas reflects the same truth. One book study is not enough. One lunch is not enough. Trust is built daily. Civic friendship is practiced daily. Democratic life is sustained not by grand gestures but by small, repeated acts of restraint, generosity, and repair. I’ll be there with legislators in Austin this week to explore this and hopefully build something there together.

As we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence this July, that reality feels especially urgent. Our public life is woven together, or unraveled, by these small threads.

So this is my invitation to you.

Think of one relationship where resentment has settled in. One conversation you have avoided. One apology you have delayed because you were certain you were right.

Reach out.

I cannot promise it will go perfectly. I can say, with confidence born of experience, that reconciliation brings a kind of freedom nothing else does. And that private victories like these are not distractions from the work. They are the work.

More soon from Texas, and The Civic Renaissance Tour, soon.

If you’d like your community to host a stop on the Civic Renaissance Tour this year, reach out. Join the Civic Renaissance Ambassador Program here.

Apply here!

I am grateful to be on this journey with you.

Warmly,

Lexi

Join me in Texas!

Houston friends, I’ll be speaking at the University of Houston Law Center on Tuesday, February 3rd. That evening, the Houston Alliance of Braver Angels is hosting a public conversation exploring the grassroots, member-led reading of my book, The Soul of Civility, currently underway in the Texas State Legislature.

The event is called The Leaders We Deserve, and it takes up a timeless chicken-and-the-egg question that democracies have wrestled with across history: what comes first, good leaders or good citizens?

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More pointedly, what responsibility do we have as citizens to shape the kind of leadership we want, to hold leaders to account, and to encourage seriousness, integrity, and sound judgment in public life?

If you’re in Houston, I’d love to see you there. If you’re not, please consider sharing this with friends who might want to join the conversation.

Join us!

Invitation: The Forgotten Virtue of Moderation

A live dialogue with Alexandra Hudson and Thomas Chatterton Williams

In an age shaped by outrage, certainty, and faction, moderation has become suspect. Those who refuse to sort neatly into camps are often dismissed as weak, naïve, or uncommitted. And yet, across history, the thinkers who most enlarged human understanding were rarely loyal to a side. They were loyal to truth.

This evening is a live dialogue between Alexandra Hudson and Thomas Chatterton Williams on the recovery of moderation as a serious intellectual posture, and on the examined life as its necessary foundation.

Join us!

Join me in Indianapolis!

Free registration here!

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

When does an intellectual failing become a moral one? Bonhoeffer’s theory of stupidity

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

In honor of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, today I read to my children the story of Dr. King from a new collection of children’s stories I’m working on, Heroes and Villains: The Soul of Civility for Young Citizens—something I hope becomes a valuable home and classroom resource.

If you have young ones in your life, I’d love to invite you to share this video with them, or better yet, to read the story below aloud together. I wrote it around a core idea that was central to the work of Martin Luther King Jr.

1. Every single human being, without exception, is created with dignity and worth.

2. Because of that, we are all owed, and owe to others, a basic minimum of respect.

3. Segregation and cruelty do not only wound those who are excluded. They also deform those who exclude. Both are harmed. Both parties are dehumanized. As he wrote in his Letter from Birmingham Jail, written April 16, 1963, while imprisoned in Birmingham, Alabama, “Segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority, while it gives the segregated a false sense of inferiority.”

4. Civility, respect, graciousness, and kindness do not weaken us. They enlarge us. They elevate both the one who gives them and the one who receives them.

I’m still shaping this project, and I would genuinely welcome your feedback—both on this story and others. Please feel free to pass this along to a parent, educator, or administrator you care about, and if you’d like to offer feedback on more stories like this one, reach out to us at ahudsonassist@gmail.com

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Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

I’m grateful to be able to honor the life and legacy of this intellectual giant, and hero of civility, with you.

—

Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an “I it” relationship for an “I thou” relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things.

—Martin Luther King Jr., Letter from Birmingham Jail

There are no gradations in the image of God. Every man from a treble white to a bass black is significant on God’s keyboard, precisely because everyone is made in the image of God.

—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s sermon “The Seeking God,” emphasizing that racial segregation is sinful because it devalues the imago dei—our divine reflection—in others, delivered in 1966

He who commits evil injures himself.

—Martin Luther King Jr, Strength to Love (1963)

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, and in a land very close to home, right here in our own country, there lived a boy named Martin Luther King Jr.

Martin grew up seeing two things at the same time.

He was taught, at home and at church, that every person is created in the image of God. That meant every person mattered, no matter what they looked like, where they came from, how much money they had, or what anyone else thought of them. It meant every person carried worth that could not be taken away. No rule, no sign, no opinion, and no law could erase it. And it meant something else, too. When people treated others as less than human, they were not only hurting the person in front of them. They were also forgetting something true about themselves, and harming their own hearts along the way.

And at the very same time, Martin saw a different lesson everywhere around him.

He saw signs and rules that treated some people as if they mattered less. He saw doors that were open to some and closed to others. He saw people told where they could sit, stand, drink, and learn, not because of what they did, but because of who they were.

This lesson had a name. It was called segregation.

Segregation taught people something false about the world. It taught some people that they were smaller than they were. It taught others that they were larger than they were.

Martin grew up holding both lessons in his mind at once.

The false one was loud and everywhere.
The true one was quieter, but deeper.

The more Martin saw people treated as less than human, the more tightly he held on to what he knew was true. That every person is a human being with equal dignity and worth, created in the image of God.

Martin’s world looked a little like ours. There were cars and buses, radios and electric lights, children walking to school and playing outside.

But his world also had rules and laws that asked people to forget the truth about what it means to be human: that every single one of us are equally valuable, beautiful, just the way we are.

When Martin was a boy, he went into a shoe store with his father. A clerk told them to move to the back so white customers could be helped first. They took a few steps.

Then Martin’s father stopped.

He did not shout. He did not argue. He decided they would leave instead.

They walked out together.

Martin felt embarrassed. But he also felt alert, as if a light had been turned on.

One person was taught, You do not belong.
Another was taught, Do not look too closely.
Both lessons were wrong.

Years later, in a city called Montgomery, a woman named Rosa Parks boarded a bus after a long day at work. She was told to give up her seat because she was Black.

She stayed seated.

She broke the law.

She was arrested.

Other passengers watched. Some felt relieved it was not them. Some stared out the window. Some pretended nothing was happening.

One person was taught, You do not belong.
Another was taught, Stay comfortable. Stay quiet.
Both lessons were wrong.

People decided they would no longer ride the buses. They walked instead. To work. To school. To the store. Day after day. This became the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

Martin, still young and unsure, was asked to help lead it.

The boycott lasted more than a year. It was tiring and hard.

One night, Martin’s house was bombed. A crowd gathered outside, angry and ready to hurt someone back. Martin stood in front of them and asked them to go home peacefully.

He knew that answering harm with harm would not heal anyone. It would only spread the damage.

Not long after, Martin was arrested again, this time in a city called Birmingham. He was put in jail for marching.

While he was there, a group of pastors wrote to him. They were not shouting at him. They were polite. They told him he was moving too fast. They told him he was making people uncomfortable. They told him that staying quiet would be wiser and kinder, and that time would fix things on its own.

In other words, they asked him to stay quiet and stay comfortable.

Martin read their words while sitting in a small jail cell. He had little paper, so he wrote back on scraps and margins.

He refused.

He knew that silence would not help people see the truth. Silence would help them keep believing something false.

He believed every person is a human being with equal dignity and worth, created in the image of God. And he believed that segregation did not only hurt the person pushed aside. It also hurt the person doing the pushing, and the person watching and looking away.

One person was trained to feel smaller than they were.
Another was trained to feel bigger than they were.
Both were taught something untrue.
Both were harmed by it.

Martin believed loving people meant helping them see the world as it really is. Not yelling at them. Not hurting them. But refusing to pretend that a lie was harmless.

Before marches, Martin trained people. They practiced staying seated while being shouted at. They practiced keeping their hands still when shoved. They practiced dignity the way you practice music or a sport.

During the marches, some people were pushed, insulted, and arrested. Others watched from sidewalks or windows.

One person was taught, You must endure cruelty.
Another was taught, Do not look too closely.
Both lessons were wrong.

Martin believed cruelty does not stop with the person it lands on. It changes the person who gives it and the person who allows it. It bends everyone involved.

He also believed the opposite was true.

When people choose care instead of cruelty, even when it costs them, they help others stand upright. And they help themselves remain whole.

Martin Luther King Jr. spent his life trying to help people see clearly.

He believed segregation hurts both the segregated and the segregator.
He believed silence protects false pictures of the world.
And he believed that telling the truth about who people really are is one of the most loving things a person can do.

One person was taught, You do not belong.
Another was taught, Do not look too closely.
Both lessons were wrong.

And Martin believed we could learn something better.

Because every day, in small moments and large ones, we are shaping one another.
And how we treat people shapes who we become, together.

Segregation, Martin Luther King Jr. taught, hurts both the person who is pushed aside and the person who does the pushing. Incivility works the same way. It harms everyone involved. But when people choose civility, when they act with care and kindness toward one another, both the giver and the receiver are made better

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More on Martin Luther King Jr. from Civic Renaissance:

• MLKJ on the power of true civility

• What MLK teaches us about civility and the power of ideas to heal our divides

• What MLK teaches us about civility and the power of ideas to heal our divides

• What is your life's blueprint? Dr. King and the Great Conversation

• Why We Need Dr. King’s Wisdom This Inauguration Day

The Forgotten Virtue of Moderation

A live dialogue with Alexandra Hudson and Thomas Chatterton Williams

In an age shaped by outrage, certainty, and faction, moderation has become suspect. Those who refuse to sort neatly into camps are often dismissed as weak, naïve, or uncommitted. And yet, across history, the thinkers who most enlarged human understanding were rarely loyal to a side. They were loyal to truth.

This evening is a live dialogue between Alexandra Hudson and Thomas Chatterton Williams on the recovery of moderation as a serious intellectual posture, and on the examined life as its necessary foundation.

Join us!

In the news

“Author launches national civic renaissance tour in Shelbyville,” The Shelbyville News

The Shelbyville effort is being led locally by Pastor Ralph Botte of First Christian Church of Shelbyville, who invited Hudson to help launch a community-wide initiative inspired by her book.

“When I read The Soul of Civility, it gave language to a problem I was seeing every day in Shelbyville,” Botte said. “People wanted to engage across differences without tearing relationships apart, but we didn’t have a shared framework for doing that. The book clarified what was missing: a way to practice civility that goes beyond surface politeness and is grounded in human dignity. That’s what led me to reach out to Alexandra. As we began sharing the book locally, people recognized themselves in it and wanted to take responsibility for living these ideas together.”

The Civic Renaissance Tour represents the next phase of Hudson’s work, building directly on the impact of The Soul of Civility. Since its release in 2023, the book has been taken up by community leaders, universities, and bipartisan legislative groups across the United States and abroad as a practical framework for engaging disagreement without dehumanization and for reclaiming responsibility at the local level. Rather than remaining a theoretical work, the book has repeatedly served as a catalyst for concrete civic initiatives. In an age marked by polarization and distrust, The Soul of Civility asks a central question: how can people flourish across difference?

Following the book’s publication, Hudson, often traveling with her husband and three small children, visited 136 cities across five countries. She spoke in venues ranging from local libraries and churches to Stanford University, Yale Law School, the Canadian Parliament, and the UK House of Lords. In city after city, the book sparked not only conversation, but sustained local action.

“The Civic Renaissance Tour grew out of listening,” Hudson said. “Everywhere I went, leaders were asking how to live these ideas together, not just talk about them. I realized my role was not to visit and lead every community, but to help local leaders build the capacity, relationships, and support they need to carry this work forward every day.”

The Shelbyville launch follows Hudson’s demonstrated framework for community renewal, a four-phase process that moves communities from shared understanding to sustained local practice. The effort begins with residents reading The Soul of Civility together, followed by Hudson’s visit for a public event and leaders’ roundtable. From there, local leaders across sectors will take responsibility for carrying the work forward in daily civic life, with the long-term goal of Shelbyville serving as a regional hub for civic renewal.

The Shelbyville engagement will begin with a community-wide public event on Thursday, January 29, at 7:00 p.m. at First Christian Church of Shelbyville. The following morning, Friday, January 30 at 9:00 a.m., Hudson and Botte will convene a leaders’ roundtable. During the roundtable, a select group of Shelbyville leaders will work together with Hudson to develop a practical action plan for implementing the book’s ideas and fostering long-term civic renewal in the community.

Join us in Shelbyville!

Hudson’s work with Shelbyville follows a demonstrated and repeatable pattern.

In Carmel, Indiana, City Councilor Jeff Worrell contacted Hudson after reading The Soul of Civility to explore how its ideas could be embedded locally. That effort culminated in the Carmel Civility Summit, which convened more than 100 mayors, city council members, commissioners, and civic leaders from 17 states and Canada. “The Soul of Civility was a roadmap that led me to invite Alexandra to speak and launch a civility effort in Carmel,” Worrell said. Former Indiana Governor Mitch Daniels and Hudson opened the summit with a fireside conversation on civility and leadership. “You’ve only begun to hear from this amazing young woman,” Daniels said.

In Zionsville, former Deputy Mayor Kate Swanson partnered with the Mayor’s Youth Advisory Council to integrate The Soul of Civility into the council’s core curriculum, grounding civic formation in a shared moral framework. The council then convened a public community discussion with Alexandra Hudson at the Hussey-Mayfield Memorial Public Library, drawing a standing-room-only audience and signaling broad public engagement across generations.

“Every person, and especially every young person, in America needs to read The Soul of Civility,” Swanson said.

In Muncie, The Soul of Civility was chosen as a citywide community read, anchoring a shared civic conversation across residents, institutions, and local leaders. State Rep. Elizabeth Rowray partnered with the Muncie Chamber of Commerce to invite Alexandra Hudson to keynote their Christmas banquet, where every attendee received a copy of the book as a call to carry the work into their own civic and professional lives.

Communities across Indiana, including Fishers, Valparaiso, South Bend, Evansville, New Albany, and Salem, are now implementing similar initiatives inspired by Hudson’s work.

Nationally, The Soul of Civility is informing freshman orientation programs at Ivy League universities and is being read in bipartisan book clubs within polarized state legislatures. The book has earned praise from leaders and public intellectuals across the political spectrum, including Francis Fukuyama and Jonathan Haidt.

The Civic Renaissance Tour formalizes this growing momentum by offering communities a structured pathway to move from shared ideas to sustained local practice. Additional tour stops include Colorado Springs, Colorado; Urbandale, Iowa; Sacramento, California; Austin, Texas; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; Toronto, Canada; and London, England, with more locations to be announced.

“My vision is to help unlock an era of human flourishing in our country,” Hudson, who lives in Indianapolis, said. “That work begins when people stop waiting for rescue and start taking responsibility for the communities they are shaping together. We each have way more power than we realize to be part of the solution.”

She continued, “Ralph, First Christian Church of Shelbyville, and the greater Shelbyville community are showing what that looks like in practice. I am honored to partner with the leaders of Shelbyville in this work.”

As the kickoff city of the Civic Renaissance initiative, Shelbyville is helping shape and refine a new model of community renewal rooted in Alexandra Hudson’s The Soul of Civility. The city is piloting the framework as it moves from idea to practice, generating lessons that other communities can adapt to their own contexts. By launching the Civic Renaissance Tour in Shelbyville, local leaders are contributing to an emerging national effort to strengthen civic life by investing in their own capacity to lead and flourish.

Join us in Shelbyville!

Become a Civic Renaissance Ambassador

To join the Civic Renaissance movement, or to bring the Civic Renaissance Tour to your community, apply to be a Civic Renaissance Ambassador!

Apply here!

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

It’s Time for a New Era of Christian Civility

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

Review on Amazon

Review on barnsandnoble.com

Civic Renaissance has always been a space to reflect on timeless ideas: beauty, virtue, memory, and wisdom, to help us live more thoughtfully today. As Cicero said, “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” This space is meant to be both.

Upgrade your experience

Gracious reader,

Today I want to share a vulnerable story. (For some reason only 11 seconds of the video version of the story was recoded, but thankfully I recorded it on a voice memo as well for you to enjoy the full audio story).

Recently, I made a mistake that hurt and disappointed someone I admire and respect. There was no excuse. No ambiguity. I failed to do what I said I would do. Twice.

A Civic Renaissance ambassador, a generous supporter of my work, had organized a church-wide reading of my book. He told me it was the most well-attended Bible study his church had hosted in years. He asked whether I would join their group on Zoom to answer questions and discuss the ideas together. I said yes, gladly.

The first Sunday arrived. I went to church and left my phone at home. I missed the call.

I was mortified. I apologized, without reservation, and asked to reschedule. He was gracious.

We set a new date.

The second Sunday arrived. My husband made pancakes. We read an Advent devotional together. I was offline again, fully present with my family, honoring the Sabbath in the way I try to. Thirty minutes into the call, my husband was alerted that I had not joined.

I had missed it again.

What followed was not just embarrassment. It was the sharp awareness of a familiar human reflex: the urge to find someone or something else to blame and to self-justify. Why had no one reminded me? Why had the calendar failed? At least I was doing something noble in being present with my family… The list of excuses in my head went on.

I caught myself doing this and stopped. Even naming the tension between ideals, presence with family versus a commitment to others, was a form of rationalization. The truth was simpler and harder.

I forgot.

I failed.

Full stop.

This was painful not only because I disappointed someone else, but because I disappointed myself. I carry an identity as someone who shows up, who honors commitments, who is careful with the trust of others. Confronting my own fallibility, without deflection, was uncomfortable.

Blame is a default response. In the Genesis story, Adam blames Eve. Responsibility is passed along because it is hard to sit with our own shortcomings. As Blaise Pascal suggested, much of our discomfort comes from the inability to sit quietly with ourselves. When we do, we are confronted with who we actually are, not who we imagine ourselves to be.

Blaise Pascal writes in the Pensées (fragment commonly numbered 139 or 168, depending on the edition): “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”

Friday evening, we hosted a conversation on disillusionment for Civic Renaissance Subscribers called The Joy We Forgot. Junius Johnson, a Yale-trained scholar and storyteller, joined us. He made a simple point that has stayed with me: we are disillusioned by people and institutions when we expect too much of them.

I had expected too much of myself. And I have been disillusioned in life when I’ve expected too much from others. When we place our faith and hope in a relationship with another human being, we set ourselves up for disappointment: no imperfect human can carry that faith and expectation without stumbling.

We experience this everywhere. People are disillusioned by politics, by institutions, by leaders, by spouses, by parents. I have been disillusioned before. As a child, when I realized Santa Claus did not exist. Later, when I entered federal government expecting something like The West Wing and encountered something closer to cynicism and dysfunction. In both cases, the disappointment came from misplaced expectation.

When we place ultimate hope in fallible people or temporal structures, disappointment is inevitable.

Part of what made this recent failure so painful was the need for self-forgiveness. I expected myself to be more than I am. I expected perfection when perfection is not possible.

Working through that, without spiraling into shame, required grace.

Grace, once received, changes how we treat others. Tim Keller often observed, paraphrasing his teaching, that the unforgiving heart is the unforgiven heart.

Put another way, those who grasp how much they have been forgiven are more able to forgive. When we forget our own capacity to harm, resentment hardens. When we remember it, generosity becomes possible.

This is why the no-excuse apology matters.

A real apology does not explain itself. It does not justify. It does not reframe. It names the harm and stops. That kind of apology is rare, and it is costly. It requires relinquishing the comfort of self-protection.

It also makes repair possible.

Wabi Sabi parenting

This lesson matters in our homes as much as anywhere. My children do not need a perfect parent. They need a parent fluent in apology and forgiveness. When I lose my temper, the repair must be immediate and unqualified. Children learn how to live with others by watching how adults handle failure.

Repair strengthens relationships rather than weakening them. Wounds that are acknowledged and tended do not destroy trust. They can deepen it.

Erasmus of Rotterdam understood this. Paraphrasing Erasmus, he counseled people to readily ignore the faults of others, and avoid falling short ourselves.

We should be quick to overlook the faults of others, careful to avoid falling short ourselves, and slow to accuse. This runs directly against the grain of our culture, which trains us to scrutinize others while excusing ourselves.

Blame is seductive because it absolves us. Responsibility is harder, but it is the beginning of growth.

I want to be clear. We are going to be disappointed in life.

I will disappoint you. Others will disappoint you. No leader, institution, party, or cause is immune. Disillusionment is unavoidable unless our deepest hope rests in something that does not depend on human perfection. For me, that grounding comes from the Christian faith, which begins not with our striving but with Jesus Christ, whose life, death, and resurrection confront human failure honestly and offer grace not as an idea, but as a gift given to us.

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An invitation to no-excuse forgiveness

If there is someone you need to ask forgiveness from, do it plainly. If there is someone you need to forgive, consider the ways you have needed grace yourself. If you need to forgive yourself, remember that failure is part of being human, not the end of the story.

We are not defined by our worst moments. We are shaped by how we respond to them.

Heroes and Villains: Would you like to read my children’s book?

If you would like to read early drafts of the children’s stories I am writing, adaptations of figures like Gilgamesh, Augustine, Hannah Arendt, and Erasmus for families and classrooms, I would welcome your feedback. I am actively seeking responses from parents, teachers, and school leaders. Respond to me via this email, and share with me if you’re a parent, educator or administrator—or passionate about instilling civility and grace in the next generation—and I’d love your thoughts!

And if this reflection resonates with you, I invite you to subscribe to Civic Renaissance. This work exists to help us recover practices of responsibility, repair, and shared life that make flourishing possible, especially when we fall short.

Warmly,

Lexi

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In the News

• PBS: Author Alexandra Hudson explores the difference between politeness and civility: Steve Adubato welcomes Alexandra Hudson, author of “The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves,” to explore the difference between politeness and civility, and how embracing human dignity can bridge the divide in times of political tension.

• Indy Politics: Holiday Survival 101: How To Deal With “That One Relative”: The holidays are here, which means two things: calories don’t count, and every family has at least one relative who makes you question the Geneva Conventions.

  So with Thanksgiving and Christmas knocking, Abdul Hakim-Shabazz talked with Alexandra Hudson, author of The Soul of Civility, to get some wisdom for those of us preparing to sit across from Crazy Aunt Agnes, Uncle Blah Blah, or That Cousin Who Thinks Facebook Is a Peer-Reviewed Journal.

• The Enneagram + Marriage Podcast with Christa Hardin: Culture Wars, The Family Table, and True Civility with Author and Storyteller Alexandra Hudson

Mentor in Residence Opportunity

We are seeking an extraordinary person to join our family and the Civic Renaissance team as a Mentor in Residence. This role is for someone who loves children, loves learning, and wants to help cultivate a rich atmosphere of curiosity, beauty, kindness, and intellectual life for three young children ages five, three, and one.

Our home is an atelier, a space of creativity, innovation, learning. It is a place of ideas, stories, nature, music, art, conversation, and unhurried discovery. We are building an educational model for our family that brings together nature exploration, early literacy and numeracy, storytelling, cultural formation, ample leisure and unstructured free time, and the joy of hands-on making. We hope to share this model with other families over time.

We are looking for a guide who brings presence, steadiness, imagination, and an instinct for wonder. You do not need classroom experience. We care about your character, your curiosity, your capacity to listen well, your intellectual interests, and the way you see children and human flourishing.

This is a national search, and we welcome candidates who are open to relocating to Indianapolis. Please share widely.

APPLY HERE!

Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:

Water & Fire: Restoring Our Home, Restoring Ourselves

Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!

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rejoices as it does so; the lowest animal can imagine the pain of

others. But to imagine the joy of others and to rejoice at it is the

highest privilege of the highest animals, and among them it is ac-

cessible only to the choicest exemplars — thus a rare humanum:

so that there have been philosophers who have denied the exist-

ence of joying with.

—Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All too Human, (tr.) R. Hollingdale (New York:

the text as HH.), pg 228.

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Gracious reader,

Two German words illuminate a truth about the human condition, defined by Blaise Pascal as the greatness and wretchedness of man.

Schadenfreude comes from Schaden (harm) and Freude (joy). It names the reflex of delighting in another person’s misfortune. Mitfreude comes from mit (with) and Freude (joy). It names the experience of reveling in another’s success.

The contrast is simple yet profound.

Schadenfreude shrinks our soul and worldview. It’s zero-sum.

Mitfreude expands us. It sees life as a shared project where our good is another’s good, and where we are shaped by each other’s well-being.

“Joy with”

I experienced mitfreude recently in a way that moved me. My friend Rachel wrote a lovely essay about how trick or treating can strengthen the shared fabric of a neighborhood. She asked for my feedback on the draft. I made a few editorial suggestions and directed her to my editor at the Wall Street Journal. When her heart warming piece was accepted, I felt genuine gladness.

It was not pride in myself. It was the joy of seeing her important ideas reach a wider audience and the joy of having played a small part in helping it happen.

Here is the link to her essay so you can read it as well.

“Joy harm”

By contrast, I’m reminded how I felt the other day when after a contractor submitted me error-filled AI slop for a project I’d hired them for.

I was—shall we say—less than gracious.

It felt like a double betrayal and insult: first was the poor work product, second that they thoguht I wouldn’t notice that a computer had written the work instead of a human being.

Yes, I spoke truth about shoddy work I’d paid them for. But I didn’t do it in love. And the contraditciotn in my values hurt them, but also hurt me. I felt ugly and shame-filled inside. It wasn’t shaddenfreud per se, but it was instane where my words likely hurt another person—and as a result, I was hurt, too. I felt ugly inside.

Helping others helps ourselves

The world tells us to be rivals. We absorb the idea that someone else’s success diminishes us, or that helping another person advance is somehow a loss. That narrative misunderstands how interconnected we are. When others are bettered, we are often bettered as well. When others are harmed, we are often pulled downward with them. Incivility illustrates that pattern. It diminishes both giver and receiver. Civility illustrates the opposite pattern. It raises both.

Mitfreude grows that upward spiral, that virtuous cycle. It cultivates the kind of relational ecosystem in which trust, admiration, and cooperation can take root. It is not sentimental. It is a practical posture that invites more flourishing than any zero sum framework can offer.

Below are three simple ways to practice it this week.

Three ways to practice Mitfreude now.

1. At home: praise without comparison

When someone in your family succeeds, however small the success, name it and enjoy it with them. Do not compare it to anyone else’s progress. This signals safety and dissolves rivalries that often begin in childhood.

2. At work: champion another person’s contribution

Choose one colleague whose idea, insight, or work improved yours. Send a short note saying so, or mention it in a meeting. This builds an environment where people feel free to create rather than fear scarcity.

3. In daily life: look for occasions to assist someone else’s success

Recommend a neighbor’s business, introduce someone to a helpful contact, or highlight an artist you admire. Leave a positive review. When you play even a small role in advancing another person’s good, it generates a lift that echoes outward.

Mitfreude is a counterweight to the contraction that defines so much of modern life. It reinforces the insight at the heart of civility, the one at the core of your work. How we treat others shapes who we become.

When we choose to delight in one another’s joy, we enlarge ourselves, and make more joy possible.

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I write with a few exciting updates and announcements.

First, I’m extending the Civic Renaissance Ambassador Program deadline until Friday. This program is something I created to get to know you—and to support those of you who want to do more with the ideas of my book and of Civic Renaissance: healing our present through the wisdom of the past, and through healing ourselves.

Your participation can take many forms. You might start a book club (I have resources to help you host one), or even organize a Civility Summit in your community. Whatever your vision, I’d love to help you bring it to life.

Become a Civic Renaissance Ambassador!

Second, while on retreat in the forest—completely off the grid this weekend—I wrote the first three chapters of my children’s book! I’ve wanted to render The Soul of Civility into content for my children for years. I’ve also heard from so many in the education field that you want this for your school districts, for your classrooms.

My kids loved hearing the first story last night and are already eager for more. I’d love to know what you think of this chapter.

If you enjoy it, I’ll share the next set of stories soon.

Share your thoughts in the comments below.

If you’re a teacher or educator and would be interested in helping us build the curriculum—or using it in your classroom—please reply to this email.

As always, if you appreciate the work of Civic Renaissance to bring more civility and grace in our world, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

Thank you for being part of the Civic Renaissance community!

With gratitude,

Alexandra

Heroes of Civility

The Soul of Civility for Young Citizens

By Alexandra Hudson

Chapter One

Gilgamesh and Enkidu

How friendship makes us better—and how unkindness hurts everyone

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away—different from ours in some ways, but in other ways just the same—there was a king named Gilgamesh.

King Gilgamesh was part man, part god, and he ruled over all the people of Uruk, the first city in the whole world.

Gilgamesh was a tyrant. That means he was not a good king. Instead of serving and loving the way a good king should, this king, Gilgamesh, took whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, from whomever he wanted.

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Two quick notes:

• The Civic Renaissance Retreat will be April 24–25, 2026, not 2025 (as my earlier message said).

• The form for the Civic Renaissance Ambassador Program is available here.

The deadline for this first ambassador cohort is this week.

Thank you for your grace, friendship, and for being pa…

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That meeting sparked a friendship and a pivotal moment in my writing project. When I told Tyler I was considering writing a book, he offered this advice: “Don’t write a book unless you have a disease and writing it is the cure.” It perfectly captured the state of my soul at the time — and encouraged me to keep writing.

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What does it mean to owe others a basic level of respect? And why is this so difficult to live out in our fractured public life? The idea of the Imago Dei counters our temptation to see people in terms of their usefulness or political alignment. It reminds us that human worth is not earned, but inherent.

Dr. Moore and I discuss how easily we misplace our sense of meaning in politics, reducing intellectual disagreements into definitions of character. We explore the rituals and habits that can help us resist this, cultivating instead the vision to see others as human beings first. As Wendell Berry warns, one of the most dangerous phrases in English is “desperate times call for desperate measures”—a license to ignore dignity, kindness, and civility when we need them most.

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He also joined me for the very first virtual Civility Summit, which was part of the launch of my book The Soul of Civility. I’m thrilled he’ll be returning for this year’s inaugural Civility Summit later this month.

In our conversation, we ask a pressing question: will Americans only come together in times of crisis? We talk about why division is so dangerous to the success of our nation as a champion of freedom, how social media amplifies our worst instincts, and what responsibilities both citizens and leaders bear in sustaining a free society.

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I never expected to see the inside of a jail cell. But one afternoon in Liberty County, Georgia, I did.

I was driving down the highway, listening to Francis Fukuyama’s The Origins of Political Order—a book about why the rule of law and strong institutions are the foundations of a free society. Moments later, in a cruel twist of irony, I found myself living their collapse.

Pulled over for speeding, I was handed a $720 ticket. The officer demanded it be paid immediately—in cash. When I couldn’t produce the money on the spot, I was put in the back seat of the police officer’s car, and escorted to jail for a civil infraction—one that should never have carried jail time at all. For an hour I sat in that cell—dehumanized and mortified—while my then-boyfriend, now-husband, scrambled to gather the money to buy back my freedom.

That day seared into me the truth of Fukuyama’s argument: when institutions fail, when power is abused, when trust is shattered, liberty itself becomes fragile. Flourishing is impossible. Institutions and the rule of law aren’t abstractions; they shape our daily lives. And when they break down, ordinary people suffer. I did.

I also learned, painfully, that our institutions are fragile.

Today, I share that story publicly for the first time, and in our conversation, I ask Francis Fukuyama—one of the great political thinkers of our age, and also a generous friend and mentor—how social trust and civic bonds that support our institutions can be rebuilt. Together we explore how trust is built, how it is destroyed, why civility is essential to sustaining freedom, and why the scaffolding of democracy is more fragile than we often admit.

This episode is both personal and political. It is about shame and power, trust and betrayal, institutions and democracy. And it is about what it will take to preserve liberty and civility in our own time.

Join a Deeper Conversation on Civility This September!

Reserve your tickets!

When I wrote The Soul of Civility, it wasn’t meant as a conclusion, but as a conversation starter. I intended it to be a handbook for those ready to build something better in their communities and across our nation—especially for local leaders, whose work shapes the very fabric of our shared life.

I believe the future of our country doesn’t reside in Washington, Hollywood, or Silicon Valley. It lives in city halls, neighborhood meetings, public libraries, and around dinner tables.

Civility lives in the small, unseen choices that shape the moral climate of our homes, neighborhoods, and public squares. It is moral courage—choosing the common good over personal advantage.

If you share this vision, I warmly invite you to join us at the Project Civility Annual Summit, September 26–27, 2025, in Carmel, Indiana.

You’ll also participate in workshops and dialogues designed to empower you as a leader in your community, showing that agreement isn’t the goal—and equipping you to thrive across differences.

I first met Maury Giles at the 2023 Braver Angels Convention in Gettysburg. When I heard the public announcement that he’d been selected to lead Braver Angels into its next chapter as CEO, I was thrilled.

I recently had the chance to sit down with Maury for a conversation on Day Seven of his new role. I wanted to share a few interesting take aways from this exchange.

1. He started as a journalist.

Maury began his career in journalism, which helps explain his thoughtful, curious approach. He understands the importance of storytelling—and of really listening.

2. He speaks to the “exhausted majority.”

Maury often references a study by More in Common, which found that the loudest voices in our politics—the most extreme—make up only a tiny fraction of the public. In contrast, roughly 77–80% of Americans make up what they call the “exhausted majority”: people who may hold strong views, but are tired of polarization and ready for a better way. Maury wants Braver Angels to be a home for these Americans—and to channel their quiet strength into real change.

3. He’s a registered Republican—and that matters.

Maury is open about his political identity, and that’s significant for two reasons. First, it helps address a longstanding challenge: attracting conservatives to depolarization work. Many on the right have felt that such efforts treat them as problems to fix rather than people to engage. Maury’s background allows him to meet conservatives where they are and invite them in on their own terms—with respect and authenticity.

Second, his openness refutes a common misconception: that to work in the depolarization space, one must lack strong convictions. Not so. Maury models the truth that one can be principled, even passionate, and still lead with humility and respect. He believes what he believes—and believes even more deeply in the dignity of others.

I enjoyed reconnecting with Maury and look forward to seeing how his leadership shapes the future of Braver Angels.

Let me know what you think of this episode in the comments!

Last week, I announced the Civility Summit I’m planning, inviting you to join me in dialogue with some of the leading thinkers and practitioners of our day.

Cornel West, Chloé Simone Valdary, Russell Moore, Jonathan Haidt, David French, Kim Scott and many others.

Join me and these amazing people and reserve your spot at this FREE.

We need you to be part of this conversation around the most important question of our day:

How do we flourish across difference?

Claim your spot at the Civility Summit!

My Conversation with Tyler

Last week, I pre -recorded several of these interviews, one of which was with Tyler Cowen—one of the greatest public intellectuals of our day and also someone who is among my favorite people. Tyler is an economist, a NYT bestselling author, and—I don’t think he’d mind me saying this—also someone who is a bit eccentric.

It’s part of his charm.

(Tyler reviewed my book for his famous blog Marginal Revolution, a few months ago: “A sane and healthy book!”)

The interview started off tame enough.

And then, after only one question, something surprising happened.

Tyler completely took the reins of the conversation—and began asking me questions!

Tyler is a famous —and infamous!—interviewer.

His podcast, Conversations with Tyler, is one of the best known and most influential podcasts in the world.

And I got a small flavor for why that is! His rapid fire questioning puts you on the spot, getting past one’s filter and persona and laying bare the essence of one’s soul.

I’ll be honest.

I finished the interview with Tyler and thought, “What on earth just happened? What did I even say?!”

And I haven’t even listened to it before sharing it with you now. I just can’t bring myself to!

But I do know he got to some interesting insights about the book—and I can’t wait to learn what you think.

A request

I wanted to give you a sneak peek into the summit by sharing this conversation I had with Tyler, and to encourage you to:

1. Buy the book if you haven’t already—and claim your $700 in free gifts here!

2. Claim your spot at the Civility Summit—and invite your friends to join us for this essential dialogue, too! (Use the “share” link below)

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Exciting news!

Exciting news: I recently found out that my book, The Soul of Civility, was chosen as a “must read” for Malcom Gladwell’s book club!

I’m beyond honored—and also thankful for the support of each of you on this journey. Don’t forget to get your copy (or second one!) HERE.

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Link to Preorder My Book