John Adams

John Adams by David McCullough

Tier 2

Here we have David McCullough, another iconic historian, and biographer. Like Chernow, he’ll have two entries in this project and is known as a master of this particular craft. A good biography, at least for me, reads much like an epic novel. It’s sprawling and expansive and detours into others’ lives. It seems, at times, to get lost, to be focused on something extraneous, only to return to its subject with the reader understanding the world more thoroughly. It paints a vivid portrait of a time and place as much as a person.

This biography meets that criterion. McCullough is an excellent writer. He doesn’t mind a meandering passage or a momentary flourish. He’s an outstanding researcher but understands that one must entertain as well as inform.

Like Chernow, I prefer another of his biographies, but that shouldn’t take anything away from this one. This book may not be tier one (at least for me), but it’s certainly worthy of your time.

Now, as for John Adams, he was… singular. He’s the type of man who would never be president today. The many steps one must take to even put themselves in consideration in 2023 involve countless compromises and a certain charm. Adams would’ve been unwilling or unable to make those compromises. He was a man of principle, for better or worse. As for the charm, I do think it existed, but it wasn’t often on display. It was reserved for private correspondences and intimate moments.

I know people who have read this biography and left it hating Adams. They see him, much as Franklin did, as a crotchety old man devoid of humor or charm. I know others who read this book and left enamored with Adams. They saw a man of principle whose contributions to The Revolution and the early United States have been blocked out by the massive shadows of his contemporaries – Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and Hamilton.

As with most things, the truth is in between. He was a man prone to melancholy and pettiness. He was obsessed with his place in history (a common trait for most founding fathers). Coming from Massachusetts, Adams, much like that state, carried an inferiority complex. The southern states, Virginia in particular, saw themselves as the regal center of the nation. The money, through slavery, came from there, and they carried themselves with a distinct air of superiority. They were the heirs of enlightenment France in all its pomp and circumstance. Massachusetts couldn’t stand this. Particularly not after the formative role they played in the cause of independence. The blood they shed, the action they put into place.

Adams carried this sense of inferiority with him everywhere he went. It influenced his time as an ambassador in France, England, and the Dutch Republic. It informed his time as Vice President, a job he detested, and then as President, a job he didn’t perform well. He was obsessed with his legacy, something that shines through in his later life correspondence with his former rival Thomas Jefferson.

Of course, all those fears and insecurities came true. Adams' reputation and contributions have been revived by this biography (and the excellent HBO adaptation that followed), but for many years he was glossed over. It wouldn’t have been surprising for much of U.S. history for people to assume Jefferson was the second president and for Adams to be seen as a mere footnote.

Now, part of this was his own doing. He wasn’t a president who covered himself in glory. Some of this wasn’t really his fault. He opposed the Alien and Sedition Acts every step of the way, but in the end, he still signed them and, as such, was tainted by their legacy. He kept us out of a war with France in the aftermath of the XYZ affair, but he hardly inspired much confidence during that period. Overall, this was his problem. He lacked Washington's charisma and stature and Hamilton's cunning and persuasiveness. The federalist party didn’t love him, and he knew it. Combine that with the Republican hatred of him and all things Federalist, and you have a president set up to fail.

But I’m not interested in droning on about his presidential achievements and failures. I’m not even interested in discussing his diplomacy or his crucial role in adopting the Declaration of Independence (yes, Jefferson wrote it, but Adams was the critical figure driving its adoption).

Instead, I left this book thinking about Abagail, his wife, adviser, and confidant. This isn’t to say that John didn’t leave a sizable imprint on me, he did, but what stands out in this biography is their relationship and what that says about gender and history.

Abagail would've been president at a different time (at least, I hope, as it hasn’t come yet). She would’ve been a diplomat and sat at the congressional congress as a representative of her state. It’s not that John wasn’t qualified or competent or that he didn’t earn his seat at those proverbial tables. It’s simply that she was every bit the person, thinker, and visionary that her husband was.

We’re only aware of her impact on her husband’s thinking and actions due to their copious letters. It leaves one to wonder how many other women in history have had a similar impact on their husbands. How many times has a woman simply not written down her advice? How many times were letters burned? How many times has a great man stood on his wife's shoulders and failed to acknowledge her impact? And, perhaps most importantly, how many great leaders have we lost due to our inability to look past the imagined supremacy of a penis?

Adams is one of many presidents who was a better man/historical figure than president. He shouldn’t be remembered as a great or iconic leader. He wasn’t either of those things. He was a brilliant thinker and revolutionary. He (mostly) stood by his principles even when to do so was a poor political decision or courted the contempt of his friends. He’s a cautionary tale in many ways, an all too visceral example of why the best among us are not always the best presidents.

But mostly, you should read this book for his relationship with Abagail. The way it brings out his humor and humanity. The way he confides his frailties to her and the way she guides him (usually correctly) to be the best man he can be. It’s a loving, intimate portrait of a marriage that helped to found this nation. Hopefully, before too long, we can live in a world where a First Man of John’s ilk offers support and advice to his wife, President Abigail. But until then, we have this book to remind us of the role women have already played in our national founding and governance.

Fun fact(s): he was the only non-Virginian of the first five presidents, he once shared a bed with Ben Franklin, he was a terrible dancer.

As always, if you know someone who might like this, please tell them about my substack or my website or both. It would be a great help to me. Thanks for reading!