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For more than seventy years, the Johnson Amendment has quietly served as one of the unsung guardians of American society. Enacted in 1954 as part of Section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code, the law prohibits tax-exempt organizations — from small local charities to houses of worship — from endorsing or opposing candidates for public office. On the surface, it is a technical provision of tax law, easily dismissed as arcane bureaucracy. But in practice, it is a moral and social safeguard, protecting the neutrality and credibility of the institutions upon which communities depend.
Nonprofits are not mere service providers; they are vital social institutions that shape civic life, moral culture, and communal trust. They operate where government programs falter — feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, providing mentorship for children, supporting struggling families, and offering social services to populations often ignored by public policy. Religious institutions, meanwhile, provide not only spiritual guidance but also moral education, community cohesion, and public advocacy framed by ethical principles rather than partisan considerations.
The Johnson Amendment has allowed these organizations to perform their work in a politically neutral space. Its goal is simple: to prevent tax-exempt institutions from becoming tools of political campaigns. By limiting direct political endorsements, the law preserves the credibility of nonprofits, ensuring that donations and volunteer efforts go toward charitable purposes rather than partisan gain.
Now, this protection is under unprecedented scrutiny. A federal court case in Texas, brought by two churches and the National Religious Broadcasters, seeks to exempt religious organizations from the Johnson Amendment, allowing them to endorse political candidates from the pulpit without risking tax-exempt status. The plaintiffs and their supporters frame this as a matter of free speech and religious liberty. Yet the consequences extend far beyond the legal question of constitutional rights; they touch the moral, social, and civic fabric of the nation.
At the heart of the Johnson Amendment is trust — the fragile, invaluable trust that Americans place in their nonprofit institutions. Polling consistently shows that religious organizations and charities rank among the most trusted entities in society, often surpassing government, business, and media. This trust is not accidental; it is earned through decades of service, impartiality, and moral leadership.
The potential weakening or repeal of the Johnson Amendment threatens to erode that trust. Imagine, for a moment, a local food pantry openly endorsing a political candidate, or a youth mentoring program explicitly aligning with one party. Even if their services continue, the perception of impartiality — and therefore of integrity — is compromised. Donors might hesitate to give, volunteers might withdraw, and community members could question whether programs exist to serve people or to promote ideology.
Religious communities, in particular, risk internal divisions. Congregants who differ politically may feel alienated or unwelcome. Clergy may face pressure to endorse candidates to retain influence or financial support. Sermons, once focused on spiritual and moral guidance, could be transformed into political messaging. The Johnson Amendment’s restrictions are not a limitation on free speech per se; they are a guardrail protecting the unity and credibility of faith and service institutions.
Nonprofits serve where government cannot. They are the first responders to gaps in social policy. They provide meals to families in crisis, shelter to the homeless, tutoring and mentorship to children who might otherwise fall through the cracks, health services to those without insurance, and support to populations marginalized by economic, racial, or geographic barriers. The Johnson Amendment ensures that these services are delivered without partisan interference, preserving the focus on the public good rather than political agendas.
If the amendment is weakened, the implications for underserved communities are profound. Programs could be politicized, either overtly or subtly. Families might hesitate to seek assistance from organizations that endorse candidates with whom they disagree. Volunteers may disengage if they feel their service is being co-opted for political purposes. Communities that rely on nonprofits as neutral spaces of aid and moral guidance could find themselves fractured along ideological lines.
The moral and practical stakes here are inseparable. Charitable organizations thrive when they are trusted to act in the public interest, independent of partisan influence. Removing these protections risks turning them into instruments of political strategy rather than vehicles of compassion.
The Johnson Amendment is fundamentally a moral safeguard. Religious institutions, in particular, teach values that transcend politics: compassion, justice, service, and civic responsibility. Nonprofits, likewise, operate with missions rooted in social good rather than electoral advantage. By protecting these spaces from partisan campaigning, the law preserves their moral authority.
Weakening the amendment threatens to invert these roles. Organizations may begin to measure success not by community impact or moral leadership, but by political influence or donor alignment. Faith communities, once moral arbiters and teachers of civic virtue, could become partisan platforms, eroding the very ethical foundation upon which they stand.
This is not an abstract concern. Morality, in community institutions, is reinforced by neutrality. When moral leaders are seen as political advocates, their guidance is no longer judged on ethical grounds but through a partisan lens. The Johnson Amendment ensures that spiritual and charitable authority is not contaminated by the pursuit of political power.
The consequences of weakening the Johnson Amendment extend beyond houses of worship. Secular nonprofits could face implicit or explicit pressure to engage politically, either to maintain influence or secure funding. Taxpayers could find that contributions to ostensibly charitable organizations are subsidizing political campaigns.
Programs serving children, youth, and marginalized communities may be politicized. Educational, cultural, and recreational initiatives could subtly shift toward political messaging, shaping the values and beliefs of the next generation along partisan lines. Volunteer networks and community projects, long the glue of civic life, could fragment under political pressure.
Consider a hypothetical neighborhood coalition that provides after-school programs for children. If its leadership endorses a candidate, the very children it serves — and their families — may experience exclusion or marginalization based on political affiliation. The Johnson Amendment protects against such distortions, maintaining nonprofits as inclusive spaces where the public good comes first.
Nonprofits are foundational to civic engagement. They teach Americans how to organize, advocate, and participate in society without relying solely on government action. Weakening the Johnson Amendment threatens this role by introducing partisan calculations into institutions designed to promote universal social goods.
The consequences for democracy are subtle but significant. If citizens perceive nonprofits as politically biased, they may withdraw support, disengage from volunteerism, or mistrust civic institutions broadly. Social cohesion — the trust and networks that sustain civic life — could erode, leaving communities more divided, less resilient, and less capable of addressing collective challenges.
The Johnson Amendment protects the most vulnerable. It shields individuals and families from the politicization of essential services. It preserves trust in institutions that distribute aid without judgment, bias, or political calculation. Without it, the very organizations that stand in for government gaps could become vectors of partisanship, undermining their mission and weakening the social safety net.
The risk is not theoretical. In a society already marked by deep polarization, converting churches and nonprofits into political actors could exacerbate divisions, alienate volunteers and donors, and disrupt programs on which millions rely. It could even diminish the moral and civic education that young people receive through participation in community and faith-based programs.
Opponents of the Johnson Amendment often frame it as a restriction on free speech. Yet, it is more accurately a boundary that protects collective speech and civic trust. Religious leaders and nonprofit directors retain the right to speak as individuals, advocate for causes, and educate communities on social issues. The amendment simply prevents organizations that enjoy tax-exempt benefits from using those resources for partisan political gain.
This distinction is critical. It is not a limitation on conscience; it is a safeguard for trust. Removing it risks conflating individual expression with institutional advocacy, undermining the social and moral credibility of organizations whose value is derived precisely from their neutrality.
The debate over the Johnson Amendment is, at its core, moral. It is about whether we, as a society, preserve spaces that prioritize service, compassion, and civic responsibility over political advantage. It asks whether sacred and civic institutions should remain above the fray, teaching values and delivering services to all, or whether they should be co-opted into the machinery of partisan politics.
Morality is reinforced by impartiality. Trust is built on predictability and fairness. Civic cohesion depends on neutral spaces where communities can collaborate across differences. Weakening the Johnson Amendment threatens all three, risking long-term damage to the institutions upon which millions of Americans rely every day.
Communities flourish when nonprofits thrive. Nonprofits thrive when they are trusted to serve everyone, regardless of political affiliation. The Johnson Amendment preserves that trust, creating a space in which morality, service, and civic duty can flourish independently of politics.
It is tempting, in a hyperpartisan age, to frame the repeal of the Johnson Amendment as a simple question of free speech. But free speech without structure can easily become coercion, manipulation, or exploitation — particularly when political influence is funneled through organizations supported by public tax incentives. The Johnson Amendment is not merely a law; it is a moral framework, protecting the ethical and civic function of nonprofits and faith communities.
The choice before policymakers, courts, and society is profound. Will we preserve institutions that unite and serve, or will we allow them to become arenas of division and partisanship? Will we safeguard the moral authority of our nonprofits and houses of worship, or will we sacrifice it on the altar of political expediency?
The Johnson Amendment is not a relic of bureaucracy; it is a guardian of trust, morality, and civic integrity. Weakening it may appear to expand free expression for some, but the broader consequences are immense: a fractured society, diminished community support, eroded trust in institutions, and the politicization of the very spaces Americans rely on for aid, guidance, and moral leadership.
In a time of eroding civic trust and increasing polarization, the Johnson Amendment remains one of the few legal mechanisms ensuring that charity, conscience, and civic virtue are not subsumed by partisan ambition. Preserving it is not merely prudent policy — it is a moral imperative, a defense of the spaces where Americans come together, across differences, to serve, to learn, and to uphold the public good.