American colonial dependence on Great Britain

American colonial dependence on Great Britain, as Thomas Paine depicts it, is more than a constitutional inconvenience: it is a system that binds the colonies to British political interests while denying them reliable control over their laws, diplomacy, and security. His argument moves from diagnosing the costs of that dependence to insisting that separation and a continental constitution are necessary if the colonies are to govern themselves and act as a nation.

Dependence as a political condition

Paine asks readers to reconsider the supposed benefits of the connection with Great Britain rather than treating past prosperity as proof that dependence must continue. He rejects the argument that because the colonies have flourished under the relationship, the same arrangement will secure their future. In his account, commerce and the necessities of life—not British authority—underpin their prosperity; trade could continue without political subordination. He likewise recasts Britain’s claimed protection as an interest-driven policy: Britain defended the continent for the sake of trade and dominion, not out of attachment to the colonists.

That distinction shapes Paine’s account of the relationship’s costs. Dependence makes the colonies participants in European wars and disputes despite having no independent cause for hostility toward other nations. Since Europe is their market, he argues, the colonies should avoid partial political ties there; under British rule, however, they become an instrument in British policy and their trade is exposed whenever Britain goes to war. He contrasts the risks of that connection with the prospect of peace and commerce if the continent could act independently.

Paine also challenges the language used to make subordination seem natural. Calling Britain the colonies’ parent country, he argues, turns political dependence into a misleading family analogy. He presents Europe, rather than England alone, as the broader source from which settlers came, and describes the continent as a refuge for people who had left parts of Europe in search of civil and religious liberty. In that framing, the language of kinship cannot erase the history of migration or justify continued rule from across the ocean.

Distance, war, and the failure of reconciliation

The outbreak of hostilities marks a decisive change in Paine’s political reasoning. Before April 19, proposals on both sides had aimed at union with Great Britain, differing over whether it should be pursued by force or friendship. Once fighting began, he argues, those earlier plans belonged to a political moment that had passed. He presents reconciliation as an inadequate response to a changed situation, not as a return to the former dispute on unchanged terms.

Distance makes the existing arrangement impractical as well as politically dangerous. Paine argues that Britain cannot administer the continent justly because its business is too extensive and intricate for a distant power unfamiliar with local conditions. He depicts the ordinary process of petitioning as an exhausting delay: a matter sent three or four thousand miles might wait four or five months for an answer, followed by further months of explanation. A system that once seemed proper, he says, has reached the point at which it should cease. He makes the same point through a contrast of scale: small islands may reasonably rely on kingdoms for protection, but a continent cannot sensibly be governed indefinitely by an island.

The conflict also exposes a contradiction in the colonies’ political status. While they call themselves British subjects, they appear to foreign powers as rebels, even as they resist British authority. Paine argues that this combination of resistance and subjection is difficult for other nations to understand and prevents them from treating the colonies as an independent party. Dependence thus limits not only domestic self-government but also the colonies’ ability to explain their position abroad and seek diplomatic support.

Crown power and the dangers of restored rule

Paine’s case against reconciliation rests in part on the powers he says would remain with the Crown. If the relationship were restored, the king would retain a veto over the colonies’ legislation. Paine warns that a continent unable to enact laws without royal permission could be controlled through the denial of laws as effectively as through laws imposed from Britain. In his view, the danger is especially acute because the king’s residence is in England, not America: measures to strengthen England’s defense might receive approval, while comparable measures for America could be refused.

He further argues that Britain treats America as a secondary object in its political system, considering colonial interests only when they serve British purposes. Reconciliation would therefore return the colonies to what he calls a secondhand government, in which their development could be restrained whenever it conflicted with Britain’s advantage. The possibility of restored rule is not reassuring merely because the formal relationship might be repaired: Paine warns that a change of name cannot turn former enemies into friends, and that repeal of coercive measures could be used to regain control through political craft rather than force.

The danger, in his account, extends beyond the Crown’s immediate authority. A settlement that offered only temporary terms would leave the colonies in an unstable condition, discouraging new settlers and giving current inhabitants reason to leave. More gravely, he fears that reconciliation without a durable continental structure could produce internal revolt and civil conflict. Independence is therefore presented as a means of securing peace within the continent as well as of ending dependence on Britain.

From dependence to continental self-government

Paine’s alternative is not simply the removal of British authority; it is the creation of institutions able to govern the colonies collectively. He proposes annual assemblies with a president, their business confined to domestic matters and subject to a Continental Congress. In the Congress plan, each colony would be divided into six, eight, or ten districts, with at least thirty delegates from each colony and at least 390 members overall. A president would be chosen from delegates of a colony selected by lot, with the rotation proceeding among the thirteen colonies; a law would require the support of at least three-fifths of Congress.

He also addresses how such a system might acquire legitimate authority. A Continental Conference would bring together twenty-six members of Congress, two members from each assembly or provincial convention, and five representatives of the people from each province. By combining members with experience in public affairs and representatives empowered by voters, Paine argues, the conference could unite political knowledge with popular authorization. Its task would be to frame a Continental Charter defining representation, the timing and selection of legislators, and the division of jurisdiction between Congress and the assemblies.

The proposed charter would secure freedom and property and, above all, the free exercise of religion according to conscience. Once the charter had been prepared, the conference would dissolve, leaving the bodies established under it to legislate and govern. The design answers the core weakness Paine identifies in colonial dependence: authority should be organized at the continental level where common interests require it, while a charter should define the scope and relationship of governing institutions.

Paine’s account of the transition also recognizes the value of existing cooperation while insisting that its temporary arrangements cannot become permanent by default. He credits the Congress appointed through the assemblies with helping preserve the continent from ruin during an emergency, but argues that continued reliance on the same method of appointment deserves reconsideration. Representation and election, he cautions, should not remain concentrated in the same hands without scrutiny; planning for posterity requires remembering that virtue is not inherited. The move from dependence to self-government therefore involves not only replacing British control but also examining how authority is delegated within the colonies themselves.

Independence and the standing of nations

For Paine, independence changes the colonies’ position in international affairs. While they continue to describe themselves as British subjects, other powers cannot readily mediate between them and Britain as between separate parties at war. Nor, he argues, would France or Spain have reason to assist the colonies if that assistance were intended only to restore the connection with Britain, to their own disadvantage. Dependence leaves the colonies fighting without the diplomatic status needed to pursue settlement or support on their own terms.

He proposes that an independent continent could address foreign courts directly. A manifesto could explain the injuries suffered, the peaceable methods of redress already attempted, and the decision to end connections with the British court; it could also affirm peaceful intentions and a desire to trade. Paine argues that such a declaration would do more for the continent than sending another ship of petitions to Britain. Independence would allow the colonies to be received and heard abroad as a political community rather than treated as rebellious subjects.

The argument thus closes on a double movement: away from a relationship that makes the colonies answerable to distant British interests, and toward a continental order capable of representing them at home and abroad. Dependence, in Paine’s analysis, perpetuates vulnerability and postpones a necessary decision; independence gives that decision institutional form through representative government, a written charter, and a distinct place among nations.