The Case For a Service Year

Renaissance Humans, #47

How do we go from where we are to where we want to go?

This statement is full of unspoken assumptions.

“Where we are” will be different for many of us.

“Where we want to go” is fraught with a diversity of opinions.

But let’s use a departure point the notion that humans of all stripes think things could be better, at least for us poor, deluded souls in the West, or the Global North, or whatever we’re calling it these days.

Maybe it would be better to politically organize the world by city states and bioregions, rather than nationally. I am all about solving problems at the lowest level, and decentralized governance is ideal for that.

And maybe Balaji is right—the Network State is the future. That the Westphalian model of governance may not work for the current state the world.

But if we apply the Lindy Rule to nation states, they should live on for a few more centuries. Unless of course, they are a Turkey on the third Wednesday in November, a la Nassim Taleb. So, I am going to play the hand I think we’ve been dealt, and dance with the one who brung me, which is the nation. I think it’s still got a few years left in the tank.

The following is America-centric, but could describe other western nations in the same approximate situation. Politically polarized, economically frustrated, and socially exhausted.

The first piece of writing I ever published on the internet was this, on the national security implications of neglecting civics in our education system. I discussed the national service movement as a societal adaptation to the complexity of the world:

Work Towards a National Service. Retired US Army General Stanley McChrystal has been leading the effort towards national service for close to a decade. A period of compulsory service for all young Americans would do much to create a common sense of ownership in our republic. Shared experiences across diverse sections of the population for Americans who might never ordinarily meet in such a setting will facilitate the growth of the connective tissue of citizenship in ways currently absent. National Service is civics in action.

Then, in The Keystone, I decided:

A Sense of the Sacred leads to Respect for ourselves, others, and reality, which facilitates Trust, which creates Cohesion, and that’s how we meet the Complexity of the world.

As I cast my eyes about the polarized, fragmented, isolated, and alienated landscape of 2025, searching all the nooks and crannies, the crannies and the nooks, I am curious what role shared obligations play in building trust.

I believe a lack of trust, is a cause of many of our woes. Some things we should be skeptical about. I’m not saying we run around trusting everything.

But what if we found a shared intention, that binds us to one another?

A collectively agreed obligation.

In Join or Die, social scientist Robert Putnam (Of Bowling Alone fame) reveals the insight that it is our connective tissue— our links to one another, that provides the glue allowing democracy to flourish. Participation in these local and national clubs and groups fostered trust in our fellow citizens.

According to Putnam in “The Upswing”, this period of disconnection and alienation began in the late 1960s. If we want this lonely period to end, we have to collectively decide to end it. That means interacting, relating, and talking. Coming into correspondence, attuning to each other.

Those dirty republicans and those scheming democrats— They don’t trust one another. It’s Dr. Suess’s Butter Battle Book come to life. Groups like Braver Angels are working to heal the bitterness in the polity.

But the vast majority of us, red or blue, like where we live. We are grateful for the blessings and bounties and the opportunity it provides.

I propose the place we live is sacred, and should be viewed as such. With all the flaws and all the warts, and all the messy, muddled, imperfect history. Get post-tragic¹, people, let’s go. We have a shared obligation to the patch of earth we reside upon. We should start acting that way.

And guess what?

When we do things together, when we meet obligations together, particularly in service of the sacred, we learn to trust one another.

We build this trust together, through purpose, vulnerability, and intimacy.

How do you think the lifelong bonds in the military are created? There’s a passage from the first page of Blackhawk Down where author Mark Bowden talks about the closeness experienced after years of training together. I think he captures it very well:

“He knew their faces so well they were like brothers. The older guys on this crew, like Eversmann, a staff sergeant with five years in at age twenty-six, had lived and trained together for years. Some had come up together through basic training, jump school, and Ranger school. They had traveled the world, to Korea, Thailand, Central America…. They knew each other better than most brothers did. They’d been drunk together, gotten into fights, slept on forest floors, jumped out of airplanes, climbed mountains, shot down foaming rivers with their hearts in their throats, baked and frozen and starved together, passed countless bored hours, teased one another endlessly about girlfriends or lack of same, driven out in the middle of the night from Fort Benning to retrieve each other from some diner or strip club out on Victory Drive after getting drunk and falling asleep or pissing off some barkeep. Through all those things, they had been training for a moment like this.

Look at this Heineken commercial from seven years ago. Strangers who might otherwise be arguing with one another on social media:

While there’s no mandatory service in America at present, programs like AmeriCorps, Peace Corps, and Teach for America provide opportunities for voluntary service in education, community development, and global outreach.

Singapore, Israel, Norway, and several other countries have instituted mandatory service, but most are military-focused. In France, "Universal National Service" (Service national universel or SNU) was introduced in 2019 for young people aged 15-16. It focuses on community service, citizenship education, and public service with an optional second phase of longer voluntary service.

A service year would strengthen civic responsibility. Whether through military service, public works, education programs, environmental conservation, or community outreach—service would foster a shared sense of purpose across diverse socioeconomic, racial, and geographic lines.

Service Year Alliance is one group looking to help make this happen.

As Putnam noted in his focus on groups and clubs, it’s about the connections between—the interstitial space between humans is where the magic happens.

A service year provides practical benefits: valuable skills and work experience.

It is an investment in both the social cohesion and well-being of the nation, cultivating citizens who are more engaged and prepared to contribute to the nation’s long-term prosperity.

The counterarguments could run a few ways. If you have others, I’d love to hear them.

One— if I were a random sixteen year old, I’d protest that this sort of requirement infringes on my personal freedom. Why should the government forcibly tell me what I get to do with my life? And these old people— what gives them the right to give me standards they themselves never had to meet?

Two— This will be another example of government waste. The cost of moving all these humans around the country will add another bloated organization to the executive branch. It will be susceptible to misuse in one way or another.

We’ll have to collectively decide if either of these arguments are enough to outweigh the benefits. You pays your money and you takes your choice. The devil, as they say, is in the details, in terms of what such a program would cost.

There’s no magic bullet— no swipe of an app, no pill we can take to make our problems go away. Just hard work, coming into correspondence with one another and taking ownership of things.

To repair and make anew.

We need to get the average citizen in the game. What the snarkiest of the snarky, Nassim Taleb calls Skin in the Game. I don’t expect everyone to get Soul in the Game, but at a minimum we need Skin in the Game.² Per Taleb:

So, to update my earlier thesis:

A Sense of the Sacred leads to Respect for ourselves, others, and reality, which leads to Shared Obligations with other humans, cultivating Trust, from which emerges Cohesion, and that’s how we meet the Complexity of the world.

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Currere Certamen Tuum

1. Zak Stein’s discusses the pre-tragic, tragic, and post-tragic mindsets as stages of understanding suffering and complexity, building on the work of others like Joseph Campbell and Ken Wilber. Pre-tragic is naive, denying hardship and favoring simplistic solutions. Tragic confronts the reality of suffering and loss, often leading to grief or disillusionment. Post-tragic integrates these lessons, accepting life’s complexities with wisdom and resilience, enabling renewed joy, creativity, and meaningful action. The path to personal and societal maturity is through embracing, not avoiding, life’s full spectrum. The only way out is through, people.

2. Taleb describe three levels of personal involvement and accountability. No skin in the game refers to individuals or entities who face no real risk for their actions or decisions, often benefiting while others bear the costs (policymakers or executives insulated from the consequences of their policies). Skin in the game involves shared risk, where individuals are directly affected by the outcomes of their decisions, ensuring accountability and fairness (entrepreneurs or citizens). Soul in the game goes beyond risk-sharing, representing a deeper commitment where individuals act out of passion, integrity, or a sense of purpose, driven by values rather than personal gain (soldiers, artists, those pursuing their calling). Soul in the game is taking a bullet for someone else, or at least risking it.