This is the most personal—and most difficult—story I’ve ever shared publicly. I hesitated to tell it at all. But it illuminates exactly why Francis Fukuyama’s work on trust, institutions, and democracy matters—not in the abstract, but in human terms. What happened to me on a highway in Georgia left me humiliated and shaken. It also revealed, with searing clarity, what’s at stake when those in authority abuse power. For the first time, I share that story—Fukuyama helps us explore what it means for all of us.
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!
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.
