There’s a quiet but alarming shift happening in how power is being envisioned—and potentially wielded—in the United States. While headlines fixate on elections and candidates, behind the curtain, a deeper transformation is being modeled: the rise of what political scientists call a “dual state”.
What sparked this reflection? A recent incident where U.S. national-security leaders inadvertently included journalist Jeffrey Goldberg in a group chat on the encrypted messaging app Signal, discussing upcoming military strikes in Yemen. Goldberg initially doubted the authenticity of the messages—until the bombs started falling, just as described in the chat. While bizarre on its face, the episode wasn’t just about digital etiquette or operational missteps. It illuminated a shift toward decision-making in the shadows, far from traditional oversight.
This is not an isolated incident. It represents a broader trend of conducting government business through platforms that deliberately leave no record—no paper trail, no transcript, no accountability. As government insiders increasingly use encrypted communication tools to avoid creating documentation, they are essentially building a second, hidden layer of governance. This evolution resonates deeply with what political theorists have warned about for decades.
What Is a Dual State?
The term “dual state” was first introduced by German jurist and political theorist Ernst Fraenkel in his landmark 1941 book The Dual State: A Contribution to the Theory of Dictatorship. Fraenkel observed the Nazi regime closely and explained that two parallel structures existed in the same government: the “normative state”, which follows laws, procedures, and institutional rules; and the “prerogative state”, which bypasses legal constraints to protect the interests of the ruling power.
“The dual state,” Fraenkel wrote, “is a regime in which the government applies a rule-of-law-based approach in some areas of life, while simultaneously exercising unchecked discretionary power in others” (Fraenkel, 2006, p. 3).
In today’s America, it’s not difficult to see traces of that model—where official democratic processes still function in some spaces, but growing power is being consolidated off the books, outside public purview, and beyond institutional memory.
Signal, Secrecy, and the Modern Prerogative State
The use of encrypted platforms like Signal by high-ranking officials to conduct national security business, such as discussing airstrikes in Yemen, is not merely a security feature—it reflects a growing desire to avoid scrutiny and historical record. These technologies are not neutral when deployed without checks; they become tools of the prerogative state.
Political scientist Sheldon Wolin described a similar drift in modern democracies in Democracy Incorporated. He warned of what he called “inverted totalitarianism”—a system that maintains the trappings of democracy (elections, courts, the Constitution) but hollows them out from within, replacing democratic responsiveness with state-managed control and corporate alliance.
“Managed democracy,” Wolin (2008) argued, “is a political form in which governments are legitimated by elections that they have learned to control” (p. 46). In other words, governance begins to mimic democratic form while rejecting its spirit.
Project 2025, a right-wing policy blueprint gaining traction (50% implemented already), encourages just such behavior. It advocates for the use of private communication channels and the restructuring of federal agencies to ensure ideological alignment. One of the stated goals? To govern in such a way that there is “no record” left behind.
Education as a Battleground in the Dual State
Fraenkel, Wolin, and others have warned that dual-state governance is not confined to backroom diplomacy or national security. It infects the spaces where values are formed, narratives are shaped, and the next generation learns its civic roles—schools and universities.
In K–12 education, the evidence is already clear. Curriculum decisions are being made behind closed doors by politically appointed boards. Books are being banned based on ideological criteria. Teachers are being reprimanded or fired for discussing systemic racism, gender identity, or other “divisive concepts.” State legislatures (most recently Kentucky) are passing laws that require educators to align with state-approved interpretations of history and identity.
This is not hypothetical. It’s happening now—and it’s a hallmark of the prerogative state. In Fraenkel’s framework, the education system has shifted from being a site of public deliberation to one of state control.
Higher Education is also under pressure. Politically motivated appointees to lead universities and boards, crackdowns on tenure, and ideologically driven funding models are creating a chilling effect in higher education. Academic freedom—once a pillar of democratic society—is being eroded under the justification of “balance” or “viewpoint diversity,” terms that increasingly mask politically driven agendas.
Why It Matters Now
This moment is not unprecedented—but it is urgent. In their book How Democracies Die, political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt emphasize that modern democracies often collapse not through violent coups but through “gradual erosion”. Institutions remain on paper. Elections still occur. But norms are violated systematically, opposition is sidelined, and the public becomes conditioned to accept ever-higher levels of authoritarian behavior.
“Democratic backsliding is often invisible,” they write. “It begins at the ballot box, continues in the halls of power, and eventually shows up in classrooms and courtrooms” (Levitsky & Ziblatt, 2018, p. 6).
We are in that process now. And education is not a bystander—it is the frontline.
What We Must Do
Democratic resilience requires both vigilance and action. First, we must call this what it is. A dual state is not a conspiracy theory; it is a documented political phenomenon with well-established historical precedents. Naming it is the first step.
Second, we must protect transparency and institutional memory. Encrypted communications should be subject to oversight. Government by Signal thread is not acceptable in a democratic society.
Third, we must defend the autonomy of educators and institutions. When public schools and universities are forced to adopt politically engineered curricula, or when faculty are punished for scholarship that challenges dominant ideologies, democracy itself is diminished.
Finally, we must educate our students not only in reading, writing, and arithmetic—but in civic courage. They must understand the structures of governance, the importance of accountability, and how to resist when those structures are corrupted.
Final Thoughts: History Doesn’t Forget—Unless We Let It
The dual state thrives in secrecy and silence. It counts on our exhaustion. It feeds on our distractions. But the power of democracy lies in the people’s insistence on participation, transparency, and memory.
As Fraenkel wrote in exile, observing the collapse of Germany’s legal order, “The fate of democracy depends on the courage of those who are willing to stand up for the rule of law.” That same call echoes today. Will we answer?
References
Fraenkel, E. (2006). *The dual state: A contribution to the theory of dictatorship* (E. A. Shils, Trans.). Oxford University Press. (Original work published 1941)
Levitsky, S., & Ziblatt, D. (2018). *How democracies die*. Crown Publishing Group.
Wolin, S. S. (2008). *Democracy incorporated: Managed democracy and the specter of inverted totalitarianism*. Princeton University Press.