With Tuesday’s presidential election, we have crossed a threshold [column]

"I'm empty and aching and I don't know why."

— Paul Simon, "America," 1968.

When I was in graduate school a half-century ago, Henry Adams' 1919 book, "The Degradation of the Democratic Dogma," was required reading.

The tome was published a year after his death, the same year he won a Pulitzer Prize, amid the turmoil and tumult of the new post-World War I order. In contrast to the acolytes of progress and perpetual improvement, Adams cast a gloomy, even foreboding, vision of an American future plagued by chaos and fragmentation. Cherished ideals and democratic principles would be degraded, Adams cautioned. History, he observes, follows the line "of least resistance." And we are none the better for it.

I cannot help but recall how Adams' views on politics and history influenced my own development. If there ever was any doubt, I am now confident that the 2024 election results and the larger disintegration (or degradation) of commonly held values about the norms of presidential leadership and conduct offer a warning of worse times to come.

The so-called culture wars have metastasized into the body politic to create a moral crisis of startling proportions. I ask myself: Is this the America that Adams predicted, or the country we want to be? Have we come to an end and a beginning in our national development? The future is a strange land, unknowable and uncertain. Perseverance and wisdom, to say nothing of grace and hope, will be required if we are to find our way.

As pundits engage in an election postmortem, trying to decipher the causes of Donald Trump's victory and Kamala Harris' defeat, it is worth noting the unprecedented nature of the election cycle itself. It is one thing to say the results were a referendum on Joe Biden's administration, which I think is an incomplete assessment; it is quite another to credit Trump's proposed "reforms" with the outcome. Some deeper level of analysis is needed to make sense of Trump's appeal across demographic and class boundaries.

Americans have never before elected a convicted felon, sex abuser and twice-impeached candidate to the presidency. Nor have we chosen someone who openly ridiculed and belittled his opponent with the cruelest and sometimes most vulgar words imaginable. As the campaign concluded, Trump's panoply of insults only worsened and became coarser. His willingness to denigrate our institutions and fellow citizens became more pronounced and volatile, and his behavior was excused by much of his own party and the populace.

Our political culture has always had a hint of cruelty and vindictiveness, but now some new threshold has been crossed by a leader who refers to his political opponents as "vermin." His assertions that immigrants will pollute the blood of true Americans resurrects the old eugenics arguments for racial purity. What has happened to the common good, the notion that despite our differences we share a commitment to mutual well-being?

Like certain Pennsylvania Republicans who won reelection to Congress, Trump has never apologized for any part that his words and deeds played in fomenting the Jan. 6, 2021, assault on the U.S. Capitol; nor has he or they admitted any malfeasance in the effort to block the certification of 2020 electoral votes. When Trump told audiences "I will be your retribution," his words resonated with people inspired by his 2017 "American carnage" inaugural address. Either he means what he says, or he is engaging in the worst manipulation imaginable. My fear is that extremists are now emboldened, and vitriol and vengeance will be a justification for violence.

Some voters are ebullient over the presidential election's outcome, while others are more somber and disillusioned. That has always been the case after elections, but this time around, the feelings seem more exaggerated and acutely felt. The range of emotions is quite remarkable. A sense of weariness is now compounded by a befuddlement that defies simple explanation. For some, it borders on despair that affects their sense of well-being. I know many people who feel lost in this new political landscape. Indeed, the election has shaken their sense of being an American, and it raises the question of what kind of country we aspire to be.

Has America entered upon its own "dark night of the soul," in which democratic ideals are being thwarted by the politics of retribution and recrimination? Or will what Abraham Lincoln called the "better angels of our nature" shape a return to civility and generosity of spirit and deeds? Will religious and political leaders who have been silent thus far find the pastoral courage and speak up to uphold an American creed of mutual respect, kindness toward the stranger, and safeguarding the vulnerable? These are the questions I ponder as America enters a turning point in our national experience.

In addressing the nation Thursday morning, President Joe Biden was gracious in his thanks for the service of his White House staff. He also thanked the citizens who staffed polling places, counted ballots and protected the integrity of the election. And he promised a peaceful transfer of power come January.

"Setbacks are unavoidable, but giving up is unforgivable," Biden said, alluding to the fact that defeat can be more instructive than victory. This is a hard-won and sometimes very personal lesson. I am confident that history will treat Biden more kindly than many of his Republican and Democratic colleagues have.

The days ahead will further test our individual and national character. I find solace in the words of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Using a phrase he'd used before, King said this in 1967: "We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. ... This is no time for apathy or complacency. This is a time for vigorous and positive action."

The stakes are high. Someone once told me the worst sin was despair, and Americans cannot afford the luxury of despair. This country is not perfect, but it is our solemn duty to work toward its improvement. Like the poet Langston Hughes, with all my doubts and uncertainties, "I, too, sing America."

Dennis B. Downey, Ph.D., is an author and professor emeritus of history at Millersville University.