The United States today faces daunting economic, national security, and social problems. In the face of these imperatives, popular faith in the President’s ability to act is low, and faith in Congress even lower. Numerous commentators and surveys report public disgust with the mean-spiritedness and unwillingness to compromise that mark contemporary American politics.

To be sure, vituperation in political discourse is not new. Followers of Thomas Jefferson attacked John Adams as a monarchist, and Adams’ supporters denounced Jefferson’s personal conduct and asserted radicalism and ties to the French Revolution. More recently, many Republicans regarded Franklin D. Roosevelt as a traitor to his class, and Roosevelt welcomed their hatred.

In the 1950s, however, partisan differences became more muted. The momentous victory of General Dwight Eisenhower over traditional conservative Senator Robert Taft for the 1952 Republican presidential nomination, and Eisenhower’s landslide election, initiated a new grand bargain for the era of American hegemony that Henry Luce termed “the American Century.” Essentially, Republicans acquiesced in fundamental New Deal innovations such as Social Security, federal deposit insurance and regulation of banking, and a role for organized labor. For their part, Democrats supported strong containment of the Soviet Union, and accepted the primacy of large corporations in the economy.

This grand bargain of the 1950s is under siege on all fronts. Conservatives dispute the legitimacy of Social Security, government involvement in health care, labor unions, and government regulation more generally. Liberals note with alarm that inequality of income and wealth has reached levels not seen since the 1920s. They more broadly claim that those who control major corporations, now increasingly multinational, no longer see their interests as aligned with those of the American people.

The public itself seems ambivalent. Ideologically, the United States remains a center-right nation. Tirades against “the rich” and in favor of socialism never gained traction in this country. The American labor movement concentrated on obtaining economic gains for its members. In general, Calvin Coolidge’s observation that “the business of America is business” remains undisputed.

Operationally, however, government benefits are highly valued. Proposals that would eliminate Social Security and severely curtail environmental laws have little popular support. Individual business sectors fight tenaciously to maintain their special regulatory advantages. All agree that retrenchment in government should be limited to programs benefiting others.

These political fault lines have undergirded post World-War II American politics, so we might ask why they are so keenly felt now. One reason is that our problems are acute and contemporary politics seems to fail us. The reasons that I want to discuss here, however, are the professionalization of American politics and media, and the self-sorting of Americans that augurs against an inclusive sense of community.

The eminent sociologist Max Weber noted the rise of rationalization and professionalization, by which highly trained specialists would replace intuition with complex and systematic methodology. One example is the transformation of discourse on political economy by the literate generalist into the mathematics-laden realm of modern economics.

Contemporary American political practice has followed that path. The career of Stewart R. Mott exemplifies the amateur’s intervention. Mott, described by The New York Times as “a philanthropist whose gifts to progressive and sometimes offbeat causes were often upstaged by his eccentricities,” was the biggest contributor to Senator George McGovern’s presidential campaign. Mott was the son of the largest shareholder in General Motors, and his intuitions displayed no affinity for the system that spawned his wealth.

Now, however, computerized services deliver daily data and analysis regarding the votes and records of all members of Congress and other important legislative bodies to lobbyists and businesses that allocate campaign contributions. There are, to be sure, still some wealthy contributors who seem motivated by ideological principle. But this is the exception; efficient giving is the rule.

The immense change in the media also has contributed to souring our political culture. As I discussed in a previous FREE Insight column (“That’s Your Opinion,” Nov. 15, 2010), the three major TV networks and other established media were stodgy, but their culture stressed news values. The new 24-hour media, led by cable TV and talk radio, are far livelier, and earn loyalty and revenue by feeding the existing prejudices of their audiences. The steady diet of reverberations of their own thought makes it easy for viewers and listeners to fall victim to magical thinking, and assume that their own opinions are established facts.

The American electorate has changed, too. In Reynolds v. Sims (1964), Chief Justice Earl Warren righteously declared: “Legislators represent people, not trees or acres. Legislators are elected by voters, not farms or cities or economic interests.” Reynolds was responsive to rural legislators using their perpetual majorities to block reapportionment that would give equitable voting power to residents of rapidly growing cities and suburbs.

However, the Court’s solution single-mindedly fixated on the numerical equality of electoral districts, ignoring that people do live in communities and have interests that unite them. Since Reynolds, inexpensive software has enabled political parties, interest groups, and candidates to configure electoral districts that benefit them. The bizarre shape of some of these districts exemplifies that often representatives chose their constituents, not vice-versa.

As the number of swing districts grows smaller, the number of districts with entrenched Democratic or Republican majorities increases. Thus, representatives discount reelection challenges from the other party, and focus only on primary challenges from within their own party. Since primary electorates are much smaller and more ideologically motivated than voters in general elections, Democratic legislators safeguard their jobs by moving to the left, and Republicans to the right. In the past half-century, we have moved from a considerable overlap of the parties to the voting record of the most liberal Republican in the House of Representatives being to the right of that of the most conservative Democrat.

Furthermore, the availability of air travel means that activists in even distant states expect legislators to return home weekly to court them. Congressional families less frequently reside in Washington, where past generations of spouses and children created a community that transcended partisan differences.

In addition to representatives selecting their constituents, some evidence suggests that individuals tend to move to localities where the majority shares their lifestyles and politics. In the Washington, D.C. area, for instance, the affluent Virginia suburbs of McLean and Great Falls are highly Republican, while the analogous Potomac, Maryland, shows a similar Democratic bent. This view was popularized in Bill Bishop’s The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart.

In a nation where public ideology and pragmatic preferences seem to straddle the center, professionalized politics and media pull legislators to strident positions. Litmus paper tests and “pledges” bind candidates not to use their judgments on particular issues, even in the face of unforeseen and exigent circumstances.

Edmund Burke famously declared: “Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.” In dealing with our corrosive political deadlock, that’s a thought worth remembering.