A Proclaimation of the Commons

Right now, our common ground is eroding beneath our feet. Our clean water, our limited attention, and our ever-fragile democracy are under a prolonged, treacherous siege—led by greed, hatred, and ignorance. But this is not where our story ends. The Commons Party rejects this outcome. This will not—cannot—be our destiny so long as peace-loving people are standing.

From crisis to commons, we are not blind to the weighty chaos of this moment. The smoldering anger is justified. The fog of despair is real. We feel enormous emotions, each one of us. But our future does not have to follow the path handed down to us. Every one of these crises—democratic decay, social fragmentation, violence, environmental collapse, and the assault on truth—is not inevitable. They are symptoms of disconnection: from one another, from power, from purpose, and from the land we live on.

We put forth a politics of restoration: of slowing down, mending what’s broken, of tending what's living, and re-imagining what is within our reach. This is a movement not just of resistance or policy, but of renewal. We believe in restoration—not nostalgia– and repairing our common bonds. Join us, and let’s build a world that belongs to all of us—not to corporate interests or political elites.

Never forget about it, and wield it with pride - the most powerful & important office in any society is the one we all hold: CITIZEN. We believe in re-imagining—not just what government can do, but what local, state and federal government can do together. And we believe the answers to crisis lie close to home: in neighborhoods, town halls, classrooms, gardens, libraries, and councils that are just down the road.

The Meaning of the Commons

The commons are not a theory. They are not a metaphor. They are the real things we hold in common—our air, our water, our democracy, our neighborhoods and markets, and the truths we teach our children. They are the spaces we gather, the systems we depend on, and the promises we make to one another through public life.

They are not owned, but stewarded. Not handed down, but made and remade—by people, in relationship, over time.

Across history, every just society has recognized the need for the commons. Some protected grazing lands or shared irrigation canals. Others built libraries, unions, and public parks. Still others passed down through stories and songs that belonged to everyone. These are not romantic relics—they are living reminders that freedom and survival are always collective.

Much has been made of “the tragedy of the commons”—the idea that what is shared will always be misused and depleted. But this is not a law of nature. It is a failure of design. Communities around the world, across cultures and centuries, have sustained shared resources through trust, accountability, and care. The real tragedy is that we have been taught not to trust one other. The Commons Party works to see the triumph of the commons apparent in your daily life.

We believe the commons are not a problem to solve, but a promise to keep.

When the Commons are Neglected

The decline we face is not accidental. It is the consequence of a society that has forgotten its shared obligations—one that rewards extraction, division, and control over care, dignity, and belonging. When the commons are neglected, a constricting chaos threatens to shatter the very foundation of civilization. We list these threats now as a reminder of the fear we face, such that we may empathize against them. Now we pass through them and strengthen our resolve against our enemy.

• Democracy: Our institutions are frozen in time.
  The Constitution has barely evolved in two centuries—even as our society, economy, and technologies have transformed beyond recognition. We face 21st-century crises with 18th-century tools. A living democracy must adapt, or it becomes a sad museum of its former self.
• Democracy: Our voices are quieter than ever.
  The United States calls itself a representative democracy, yet our votes are distorted by outdated systems that are nearly incapable of hearing us. 535 representatives is simply insufficient to accurately execute the will of well over 300 million. We still use systems built for 2 million, that were intended to be updated! Without proportional representation, the people's will is routinely ignored and our power stifled.
• Democracy: Corruption is legal, and accountability is rare.
  In a country this diverse, the current winner-take-all elections and a two-party duopoly divide us intentionally. From corporate donations to backroom redistricting deals, today's political system runs on greed, not integrity. Campaign finance, gerrymandering, closed primaries, and lobbying loopholes are not obscure technical problems—they are deliberate barriers between people and power. And when understood and noted in our daily life, they must also be improved.

• Public Life: The places we once gathered are disappearing.
  Parks are privatized. Playgrounds and libraries are underfunded. Town halls are empty. As communal spaces vanish, so does the daily practice of democracy. A society without places to meet is a society without places to imagine a shared future.
• Public Life: Loneliness has become the default.
  We are more connected digitally, yet more isolated than ever before. The decline of unions, local newspapers, neighborhood associations, and civic rituals has left millions without meaningful ties to the people around them. When community breaks down, so does trust—and democracy with it.
• Public Life: Public goods are treated like private luxuries.
  Clean streets, working buses, decent schools—once the signs of a healthy civic life—are now seen as unaffordable or optional. But these are not extras. They are the foundations of a dignified society. Neglecting them erodes not only comfort, but cohesion.
• Public Life: We’ve been trained to think like consumers, not citizens.
  When every problem is treated as a transaction—something to be bought, sold, or outsourced—we lose the habits of cooperation and mutual care. Public life withers when we stop asking, what can we build together?

• Violence: Violence is built into our institutions.
  From militarized policing to endless foreign wars, we’ve normalized force as our first tool of problem-solving. At home and abroad, peace is treated as weakness, while domination is funded without question. Our budgets reflect our fears—not our hopes.
• Violence: Communities are over-policed and under-protected.
  Neighborhoods are flooded with surveillance, but lack counselors, mediators, or basic safety nets. When violence is treated only as a crime to punish—not a condition to prevent—we deepen the cycle of harm.
• Violence: We fund war like it's inevitable, but ignore the peace we could build.
  Military spending rises every year with bipartisan ease, while investments in housing, healthcare, and diplomacy are treated as controversial. We have built a war machine but dismantled the tools of peace.

• Environment: While politicians debate climate policy in distant chambers, our streets flood, our air worsens, and our green spaces vanish. The earth beneath our feet is telling us the truth—our communities are being sacrificed for short-term profit.
• Environment: We talk about climate change, but ignore the crises in our own backyards.
  Vacant lots become dumping grounds. Flash floods overwhelm streets. Trees vanish, and asthma rates rise. Fires rage. The global climate crisis is real—but it’s also local, visible, and deeply unequal.
• Environment: Environmental decisions are made far from the people they affect.
  Oil companies, zoning boards, and federal agencies draw the lines, while neighborhoods live with the consequences. Local residents are rarely heard, unless they can afford to fight.
• Environment: Pollution and extraction follow lines of race and class.
  It’s not just about carbon. It’s about who gets clean water, fresh air, and green space—and who doesn't. Environmental harm is a form of structural violence, and it’s been allowed to spread in silence far too long.

• Knowledge & Truth: We are not taught to be citizens—we are taught to be workers, or worse, consumers.
  Civics has vanished from classrooms. History is politicized. Communal thinking is discouraged. When education becomes job training and nothing more, democracy suffers. Bad education is not a dis-service, it is a violation of your rights as citizens.
• Knowledge & Truth: Schools are unequal by design.
  Funding depends on zip codes. Facilities vary wildly. Whole generations are raised in under-resourced buildings with overburdened teachers. We claim to value education, but structure it to reinforce inequality.
• Knowledge & Truth: Truth is no longer a shared foundation.
  Disinformation flows faster than facts. Media is fragmented. Libraries are under attack. A society that cannot agree on reality cannot solve problems—and that crisis is being manufactured, on purpose.

The Pillars of The Commons

Universal Peace

Definition:
We believe peace is not merely the absence of conflict—it is the presence of justice, mutual respect, and shared dignity. True peace begins within, as a mindset of nonviolence and compassion, and extends outward through how we treat one another, resolve conflict, and build systems rooted in care. Religions and faiths around the world are rooted in these teachings, and we can all benefit from a more peaceful world.

Example:
Imagine a city that replaces over-policing with trained community mediators, mental health responders, and neighborhood-led safety councils. Fewer arrests, more prevention. More listening, less fear. This is peace made real—not through domination, but through dignity.

Our Commitments:

• Reinvest in community safety through care, not control—by replacing punitive policing with mental health responders, restorative justice programs, and civilian-led mediation.
• End the militarization of domestic and foreign policy by redirecting funds from weapons and warfare to diplomacy, education, healthcare, and housing.
• Support peacebuilding at every level—from neighborhood conflict resolution to international cooperation and nonviolent foreign policy grounded in human dignity.

Democratic Renewal

Definition:
We are committed to a democracy that truly reflects the people it serves. That means proportional representation, open elections, term limits, and a political system that earns back the public’s trust.

Example:
In countries like New Zealand and Germany, people vote for parties that reflect their values—and every vote helps shape the government. A similar system here could end the two-party stranglehold and give voice to millions who feel politically homeless.

Our Commitments:

• Enact proportional representation and ranked-choice voting at every level, so that every voice counts and no vote is wasted.
• Impose term limits and age limits for federal legislators and Supreme Court justices to ensure a responsive, future-oriented government.
• End legalized corruption by banning corporate donations, closing lobbying loopholes, and implementing public campaign financing.

Educational Civic Rights and Responsibilities

Definition:
Education is not a commodity—it is a civic right. We believe every person deserves access to quality education, civic learning, public libraries, workshops, and spaces that foster lifelong learning and democratic engagement.

Example:
A neighborhood with a free, open-access learning hub—offering trades training, digital tools, and civic workshops—can uplift generations. It’s not just school; it’s the heartbeat of a functional democracy.

Our Commitments:

• Guarantee universal access to public libraries, civic education, trade schools, and maker spaces as fundamental civic infrastructure.
• Integrate civic learning and media literacy into all levels of education to prepare people not just for jobs, but for democratic life.
• Establish neighborhood knowledge hubs—places where people of all ages can learn, build, and grow together, free from corporate influence.

Local Environmental Stewardship

Definition:
We believe that ecological justice starts with the land beneath our feet. By restoring and protecting our local environments—parks, soil, water, air—we build healthier, more connected communities and a more resilient planet.

Example:
In one town, residents transformed abandoned lots into a network of community gardens and stormwater systems. They reduced flooding, improved nutrition, and created shared space—without waiting for top-down solutions.

Our Commitments:

• Fund community-led environmental restoration—from tree planting and green roofs to local conservation corps and urban farming networks.
• Decentralize climate adaptation efforts by giving cities and neighborhoods the power and resources to solve their own environmental challenges.
• Guarantee access to clean air, water, and green space as basic civic rights—not amenities reserved for the wealthy.

The Way of the Commoner

How we Act

We are a movement rooted in peace—but not passivity. We confront injustice without surrendering to bitterness. We believe that anger is only useful when it fuels our resolve, and that real strength is found not in rage, but in calm, disciplined, collective action.

We are not chasing headlines or viral moments. We are here to build enduring power—the kind that grows slowly, takes root deeply, and belongs to everyone.

We organize steadily, not sporadically.
We act together, not alone.
We fight with resolve, not resentment.
We lead with care, not ego.

This is not a politics of spectacle. It is a politics of stewardship—of showing up, doing the work, and protecting what we all depend on.

Who Are the Commoners?

We are the ones who refuse to give up on each other.

We are Democrats, Republicans, independents, and people who have never voted—united not by partisanship, but by the belief that the future must be built together. We are people of many faiths and no faith at all, drawn together by the moral imperative to care for one another and the planet we share.

We are workers, teachers, nurses, artists, elders, immigrants, parents, organizers, and neighbors. We are not professionals in power—we are the people power was meant to serve.

We are tired of shouting matches and cynical headlines. We want a government that listens, schools that inspire, streets that are safe, and a planet that is protected. We want a society where the public good is sacred again.

To be a Commoner is not to be perfect. It is to be committed—to showing up, speaking out, and caring deeply about what we share.

To Those Who Still Believe in What We Share

Every generation must decide what kind of ancestors it will be. Ours must be the generation that turned back from division and despair—and chose instead to restore what binds us together.

The commons—our shared world, our shared work—will not restore itself. It will be rebuilt by those who tend to it. By those who stand in quiet courage. By those who still believe that democracy is not a gift handed down, but a covenant renewed each day by its citizens.

We are many.
If you have felt forgotten, this movement remembers you.
If you have felt powerless, this movement needs you.
If you have wondered whether it’s too late—know this: the future is still undecided. And that is a gift.

This movement will not be won with bitterness or speed. It will be won with care. With vigilance. With people gathering in public libraries and town squares, planting trees and telling the truth, teaching one another, and refusing to give up on the promise of a common life.