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This series traces the rise of centralized banking and elite power across five parts starting with Napoleon’s Bank. A future post will trace precursors like Amsterdam’s Wisselbank.

Part 1: Napoleon’s Bank: Blueprint For Global Financial Control and The Corruption of America’s Economic System

Part 2: Teddy Roosevelt, Consolidating Power and the Entrenchment of Global Banking Elites

Part 3: FDR and Associates, Centralized Power and Wartime Atrocities

Part 4: Early America: Roosevelt and Hamilton Elite Ties and America’s Aristocratic Banking Origins 

(Isaac Roosevelt co-founded the Bank of New York with Alexander Hamilton in 1784)

Part 5: Hamilton’s Central Banking Betrayal of the Revolution's Economic Foundation

The blueprint for centralized banking, rooted in elite control, predates Napoleon’s Bank of France. 

The roots of financial control stretch back to early banks like Amsterdam’s Wisselbank (1609) which pioneered standardized currency and trade dominance, empowering merchant elites. Venice’s Banco del Giro, and Hamburg’s Hamburger Bank (1619), laid early foundations for financial manipulation by the connected. 

These systems shaped the Bank of England (1694), a debt-driven war machine that set the template for global financial control.

As mentioned, future post will delve into how these precursors entrenched elite power and led to the corrupt machinery of England’s and France’s banks, but here we focus on Napoleon’s Bank of France (1800) and its ties to America’s corrupted financial dawn.

These systems, built by elites for elites, set the stage for Napoleon’s Bank of France (1800). 

A future post will unpack their influence, but here, Part 1 dives into Napoleon’s bank and its transatlantic ties that corrupted America’s financial dawn.

Part 1: Napoleon’s Bank: Global Financial Control and the Corruption of America's Economic System

This section explores significant historical and economic dimensions of Napoleon Bonaparte’s establishment of the Bank of France in 1800, its relationship to the Bank of England, and the intellectual and financial networks that underpinned its formation. 

Then lights shed on how these banking systems fueled the early corruption of America’s financial framework through elite and royal transatlantic networks.

This analysis draws on the historical context of central banking, the role of key figures, and the broader implications for monetary control.

The establishment of the Bank of France in 1800 under Napoleon Bonaparte’s regime was a pivotal development in the history of modern central banking, designed to stabilize France’s economy following the financial turmoil of the French Revolution (1789–1799). 

The Revolution left France with a depreciated currency, notably the assignats, which suffered from hyperinflation, eroding public trust in monetary systems. 

Napoleon, having consolidated power through the coup of 18 Brumaire in 1799, sought to centralize financial authority to support his military campaigns and imperial ambitions. 

The Bank of France was thus instituted not as an original innovation but as a strategic adaptation of the Bank of England’s model, established in 1694. The latter served as a prototype for state-backed financial institutions, issuing bonds and loans to fund military endeavors while channeling profits to private financiers. 

The Bank of France was founded with an initial capital of 30 million livres, raised through private subscriptions from prominent bankers, including Jean-Frédéric Perregaux, a Swiss financier instrumental in its formation. 

Perregaux, formerly associated with the Caisse des Comptes Courants, leveraged his connections within the Parisian Haute Banque—a coalition of elite bankers including Le Couteulx, Mallet, and Perier—to ensure the bank’s operational success. 

By 1803, the Bank of France secured a monopoly on note issuance, mirroring the Bank of England’s centralized control over currency. 

This consolidation enabled Napoleon to finance the Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815) through government bonds, often issued at preferential rates, which entrenched a debt-based financial system. 

The issuance of the franc germinal, loosely tied to a gold standard, aimed to restore monetary stability while providing flexibility to expand the money supply during wartime. 

The intellectual underpinnings of this system were informed by a cadre of scholars and financial advisors who synthesized contemporary and historical economic thought. 

Martin-Michel-Charles Gaudin, Napoleon’s finance minister, played a critical role in organizing the bank’s structure, drawing on mercantilist principles and the cautionary lessons of John Law’s failed financial experiments in early 18th-century France. 

The influence of Enlightenment economists, such as David Hume and Adam Smith, whose seminal work The Wealth of Nations (1776) circulated widely, provided theoretical justification for centralized monetary systems. 

Additionally, the Physiocrats, including François Quesnay, had previously advocated for state-controlled economic mechanisms, which informed the bank’s design. 

Across the Channel, the Bank of England’s longevity attracted study from French financiers, who adapted its debt-financing model to suit Napoleon’s needs. A critical perspective, informed by Austrian economic principles, highlights the deeper implications of these developments. 

The Bank of France, like its English counterpart, facilitated a concentration of financial power among a small elite, including the Rothschild family, whose cross-border financial networks allegedly funded both sides of the Napoleonic Wars. 

This dual financing, a hallmark of early modern banking, perpetuated conflicts to maximize profits while embedding systemic debt within national economies. 

Figures like Perregaux and the Rothschilds operated within a broader network of financiers and unnamed advisors, likely schooled in historical banking systems, such as those of medieval Venice and 17th-century Amsterdam. 

These networks, shrouded in secrecy, evaded accountability, aligning with the Austrian critique of central banks as mechanisms for market distortion, inflation, and elite control. 

The interplay between the Bank of France and the Bank of England underscores a shared lineage of centralized banking, where state power and private interests converged. 

Napoleon’s reliance on bond issuance and debt financing, orchestrated by his financial advisors, mirrored the Bank of England’s practices, suggesting a deliberate replication of a proven model. 

However, while Napoleon’s public persona as a military and political leader dominated contemporary narratives, evidence suggests he was not the sole architect of this system. Instead, he collaborated with a sophisticated financial apparatus, likely orchestrated by elite bankers and their intellectual allies, who ensured the perpetuation of their influence across generations. 

This historical case illustrates the emergent nature of central banking as a technology of control, evolving through iterative refinements driven by the self-interest of financial elites. Each war, bond, and currency issuance strengthened a system designed to prioritize elite wealth and power over public welfare, laying the groundwork for modern debt-based economies. 

While Napoleon’s role was central in operationalizing this system, the intellectual and financial networks behind him—comprising figures like Gaudin, Perregaux, and potentially deeper, unnamed actors—suggest a broader conspiracy of control that remains partially obscured. 

This analysis invites further inquiry into the hidden intellectual and financial forces that shaped early central banking and their enduring impact on global economic structures.

The centralized banking models of the Bank of France and the Bank of England, forged in the crucible of mercantilist and wartime economies, served as a blueprint for elite financial control that reverberated across the Atlantic. 

These systems, orchestrated by interconnected financiers like the Rothschilds and Parisian Haute Banque, demonstrated how state-backed banks could channel wealth to a select cadre while cloaking their influence in the guise of public stability. 

American merchants and elites, deeply tied to British trade networks and schooled in European banking practices, recognized the potential for similar mechanisms to consolidate power. 

Figures like Alexander Hamilton, with ties to New York’s mercantile elite and British financial systems, saw in these models a tool to entrench economic dominance through fiat money and centralized control. 

The push for the First Bank of the United States in 1791, fiercely debated yet ultimately established, reflected this transatlantic ambition—a deliberate move by interconnected elites to capture America’s nascent economy, eroding the revolutionary ideals of decentralized liberty in favor of a system designed to enrich and empower a hidden aristocracy. 

This laid the groundwork for later institutions like the Federal Reserve, perpetuating a legacy of elite influence that critics, from Jefferson to modern Austrian economists, argue distorts markets and undermines public sovereignty. 

Part 2: Teddy Roosevelt, Consolidating Power and the Entrenchment of Global Banking Elites 

As President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, whose family grew rich through the Bank of New York, tied to J.P. Morgan’s empire, appointed Charles Bonaparte, Napoleon’s grandnephew to several powerful positions in his administration.

With Napoleon III ruling France until 1870, just years before Charles’s rise, this Harvard-educated insider knew his family’s wealth sat in French and English banks, linked to Morgan’s network. 

Charles founded the FBI’s predecessor in 1908. His trust-busting stabilized European royalty and aristocracy connected industries, boosting centralized finance for elites like Morgan—a clear play to entrench transatlantic power.

Among other deep elite ties, Teddy Roosevelt's great grandfather founded the bank of New York with Hamilton. 

Teddy's cousin started the chemical bank and his grandfather further built their wealth through that bank. The chemical bank merged with jp morgan. 

Morgan had direct ties to royalty/banking elites in europe and their proxies. 

This gave J.P. Morgan early access to royal and aristocratic networks, which he leveraged to dominate American finance. These ties made Morgan a linchpin between American industry and European royalty/banking dynasties. 

He also used his influence to destabilize the banking system. He caused systemic pressure and chaos leading to the implementation of the federal reserve. Read the creature from Jekyll Island.

The media portrayed Teddy as a trust buster cracking down on banks and big business. His actions strengthened the most powerful and those connected to European royalty.

As mentioned at the top of this note, Theodore Roosevelt appointed a grandson of Napoleon Bonaparte's brother to several powerful positions in his administration, Charles Joseph Bonaparte, who had deep connections to European royalty and banking. 

In 1905, Roosevelt appointed Bonaparte as Secretary of the Navy, and in 1906, he appointed him Attorney General. 

In 1908 Bonaparte established and played a key role in the Bureau of Investigation, later renamed the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) in 1924.

 In nineteen thirteen, the Federal Reserve was covertly crafted on Jekyll Island, pushed through U.S. government channels by J.P. Morgan, linked to British and European banking elites, and Paul Warburg, tied to German banking dynasties like the Warburgs and Rothschilds. 

This secretive deal, driven by elite financiers with deep transatlantic ties, centralized control of America’s money supply, raising troubling concerns about unchecked power and foreign influence in the nation’s economy.

Morgan’s London connections through J.S. Morgan & Company and Warburg’s European banking roots tied to the Federal Reserve’s origins hints at the controversial secrecy and elite control detailed in the book *The Creature from Jekyll Island*.

Part 3: FDR and associates, Centralized Power and Wartime Atrocities 

FDR’s gold confiscation in 1933 wasn’t just a “raw deal”—it was straight-up theft of people’s wealth, forcing them to hand over gold to the Federal Reserve at a fixed price, gutting their financial freedom while the Depression had folks starving. That’s not just policy; it’s a crime against individual rights.

And letting companies like Standard Oil supply fuel to Nazis or IBM tech their logistics? That’s complicity, plain and simple, not some neutral “oversight” while the economy tanked.

FDR’s gold confiscation through Executive Order 6102 in 1933 forced people to turn in their gold coins, bullion, and certificates to the Federal Reserve at a set price, effectively centralizing control over wealth under the guise of stabilizing the economy. It was a power move, no question—stripping individuals of financial independence while funneling gold to the feds. 

On the social programs, the New Deal was crumbs to the masses. Leaving suffering, struggling people in praise of a corrupt government for letting them live on a lifeline while the government and those connected amassed fortunes for themselves while committing and supporting human rights atrocities in America and abroad.

Programs like Social Security and the WPA were sold as relief but also entrenched government control and  they didn’t go far enough to fix the Depression’s root issues—unemployment hit 25% at its peak, and recovery was shaky. 

The banking ties are real; some U.S. firms, like those linked to Standard Oil or Prescott Bush’s Union Banking Corporation, did business with Nazi Germany pre-war, and throughout the war with direct FDR awareness being undeniable. 

His administration’s inaction on early warnings and evidence of American banking and corporate connections to the Nazis is glaring.

The FBI’s expansion under FDR, with J. Edgar Hoover’s growing influence, set the stage for surveillance overreach, and Allen Dulles’s later OSS/CIA ties show how deep elite networks ran—Dulles worked with Wall Street and European elites long before the CIA. Allen Dulles, had contacts with Nazi officials.

During the nineteen-thirties, the firm, where Allen Dulles was a partner, represented German industrial clients and helped move Nazi funds out of Germany as the Third Reich was collapsing in nineteen forty-four and nineteen forty-five.

They also incorporated German companies like I.G. Farben, which supported Germany’s arms buildup before the war.

Dulles also worked with SS General Karl Wolff against FDR’s "orders" and recruited ex-Nazis to work for the CIA.

The Bush family connection; Prescott Bush’s financial dealings tied to Standard Oil and German firms shared the same elite circles. 

FDR’s push for rearmament and the Lend-Lease program leaned hard into global conflict,—Pearl Harbor shifted public opinion, but he was already aligning against the Axis.

Companies like IBM, through its German subsidiary Dehomag, provided punch-card technology that Nazi Germany used for organizing their war effort, including the Holocaust. 

Citibank’s predecessor, National City Bank, and others like Chase Bank, had dealings in Nazi-occupied territories, pre-war and throughout the war , handling accounts and transactions tied to Nazi businesses. 

Some American firms, like Ford and General Motors, also kept subsidiaries in Germany producing for the Nazi regime, often using forced labor. 

It’s not just business, it’s aiding the enemy and perpetuating mass atrocity. These acts of course were not driven by profit or necessity, but fueling a system of perpetual power and control for global structures and systems, objective outright support of the enemy and their goals. 

The U.S. government, including FDR’s administration, were objectively directly aware of these connections and dealings, they didn’t clamp down, they were complicit and perpetuated war, literally fueling the side our troops were sent to combat.

Again, it’s not just business, it’s aiding the enemy when American companies like Ford and GM kept their German subsidiaries running, producing vehicles and equipment for the Nazi war machine well into World War II. 

Ford’s Berlin plant, Ford Werke, built thousands of trucks for the Wehrmacht, with roughly one-third of their 350,000 trucks by 1942 being Ford-made, crucial for blitzkrieg tactics. 

GM’s Opel plants churned out bomber engines and trucks too, and both companies used forced labor, with destitute workers found in horrific conditions when U.S. troops liberated those factories. 

The claim that these operations fully stopped once the U.S. entered the war in 1941 doesn’t hold up—documents show production continued, and executives like Ford’s Robert Schmidt even got Nazi honors for it. 

As for Prescott Bush, his role with Union Banking Corporation, tied to Fritz Thyssen’s Nazi-linked funds, continued until the U.S. seized UBC’s assets in 1942 under the Trading with the Enemy Act. Largely seen as a marketing ploy. 

They let this go on for at least several years and finally it was too well known by too many to not do anything. 

Like modern day fines against massive corporations, a relative slap on the wrist after their massive gains and unethical actions. 

Also it was bare minimum done and only where they were pressed to take action.

No question, these were not just neutral business decisions; they propped up the Nazi effort before and during and after the war, war or no war. 

American companies like Ford and GM profiting off Nazi Germany, Prescott Bush’s Union Banking Corporation ties to Thyssen’s Nazi funds—deserves straight-up acknowledgment. These weren’t just business moves; they were complicity with the enemy during wartime.

Beyond the gold confiscation with Executive Order 6102 in 1933, which forced Americans to surrender their gold at a fixed price, stripping away personal wealth control, FDR’s administration committed other criminal acts. 

The internment of over 110,000 Japanese-Americans after Pearl Harbor, under Executive Order 9066, was a massive violation of civil liberties—whole families were uprooted, their property often lost or sold off cheap, with no due process. Many called it a shameful act, later acknowledged as such with reparations in the 1980s. 

On the Nazi ties, FDR's administration didn’t stop major U.S. companies from doing business with Germany. 

Standard Oil of New Jersey supplied fuel and patents to IG Farben, a key Nazi chemical giant, throughout the war. 

IBM’s tech, as we discussed, aided Nazi logistics. These weren’t just rogue businesses; they operated under oversight, and FDR’s team turned a blind eye. 

Prescott Bush’s Union Banking Corporation, linked to Nazi financier Fritz Thyssen, wasn’t seized until 1942, despite earlier red flags. 

FDR’s New Deal was corrupt as well. The Works Progress Administration and other programs were criticized for political favoritism—jobs and contracts often went to loyal Democrats, not always the neediest. 

Critics like Huey Long called it a machine to buy votes while centralizing power. The Supreme Court’s initial resistance to New Deal laws led to FDR’s infamous 1937 court-packing plan, an overreach to strong-arm the judiciary. 

As for other unethical moves, the National Recovery Administration, part of the New Deal, forced businesses into government-set codes, which crushed small companies while favoring big players like those tied to Morgan or Rockefeller interests. 

It was struck down as unconstitutional in 1935, but not before disrupting markets. These actions, from crimes against humanity, including internment camps and property seizures to obvious and object support of the enemy and thus their atrocities, show a pattern of prioritizing control and elite interests. 

Part 4: Early America: Roosevelt-Hamilton Ties and America’s Aristocratic Banking Origins

The Roosevelts’ web of wealth and power in New York’s elite circles is wild. Isaac Roosevelt co-founded the Bank of New York with Alexander Hamilton in 1784, tying him to the Schuylers (think Philip’s daughter, Elizabeth, married to Hamilton). Roosevelt's and Schuyler's Federalist and mercantile worlds collided at clubs and in intricate connections with aristocrats and European royalty including long time mutual business partners, friendships and marriages.

Philip Schuyler was a powerhouse in Revolutionary America, wielding immense wealth and influence as a major New York landowner from a prominent Dutch family. 

Schuyler, a wealthy Dutch-American landowner, and Hamilton, his ambitious son-in-law, were steeped in New York’s pre-Revolutionary mercantile world, which was deeply tied to British trade. 

Schuyler’s family, with their vast estates and trade in goods like furs and sugar, relied on British markets and merchants before the war. There connections only became strong as Schuyler's family grew in wealth and power post war. 

This wasn’t unique—most colonial elites did business with the British (not all those living in America were supporters of independence or the revolution). 

Schuyler’s aristocratic lifestyle and Federalist ideals, deep connections to Europe's royalty and his consistent pro-British stance was appalling to Americans in favor of independence like Horatio Gates.

His role as a general in the Revolution, especially the Fort Ticonderoga loss in 1777, fueled whispers of incompetence or worse, sabotage and outright loyalty to Britain.

Horatio Gates’ faction pointed to his divided loyalties, Schuyler’s elite status and pre-war British ties. The Americans removed Schuyler before the pivotal battle at Saratoga.

Schuyler's ties to Britain—through trade networks and social circles—display his comfort with and support for British systems, even if he fought against them (see Benedict Arnold). 

Hamilton’s support for the British was even stronger. Before the war, he worked for a trading firm in St. Croix with British connections and later championed Federalist policies that was called pro-British by passionate critics like Jefferson. 

His push for a strong central government, modeled partly on British institutions, and his admiration for their banking system (think the Bank of New York he co-founded with Schuyler’s ally Isaac Roosevelt in 1784) raised eyebrows. 

Hamilton’s marriage to Schuyler’s daughter Elizabeth in 1780 tied him to a family whose wealth came from pre-war British trade networks.

His post-war trade policies, favoring British commerce, sparked outrage from Anti-Federalists for favoring Britain, with claims he was obviously influenced by old British loyalties. 

Even though they claimed to be patriots, their elite status and transatlantic business ties made it easy to see their british loyalties. 

The Roosevelts, Schuylers, and other Dutch-American families had decades of trade with British merchants, and those relationships didn’t vanish overnight when the Revolution began. 

Americans wary of aristocrats and those living in America with deep financial ties to European royalty, were well aware of Schuyler’s wealth and Hamilton’s Anglophile ideas showing through their actions. They obviously weren’t fully committed to breaking from Britain and even favored systems to perpetuate Britain's power and influence. 

Their private dinners and quiet deals with the British continued. Their world was one where money and power crossed oceans, consistently doing business and intermingling with those directly tied to British and other European royalty. That alone displayed their incentive to perpetuate monarch power.

Then there’s the Astors—Laura Astor wed Franklin Delano (FDR’s uncle) in 1844, merging Roosevelt and Astor fortunes. This wasn’t just love; it was a Dutch-American dynasty play, boosting their real estate and trade clout. 

The Astors were powerhouse New York elites, amassing real estate dominance by the early 1800s. John Jacob Astor, a German immigrant invested heavily in Manhattan land, creating a real estate empire that shaped the city. 

Their wealth, social ties and influence in banking and politics made them American aristocracy, with transatlantic connections to European elites, rivaling royal clout, deeply affiliated the European crowns and their benefactors abroad. 

The Delanos, via FDR’s mom Sara, added shipping wealth. Roosevelts also bankrolled Chemical Bank, rubbing shoulders with proto-Morgan types in railroads and elite clubs like the Union League. 

Their strategic marriages to Astors, Livingstons, and Van Rensselaers mirrored European aristocrats consolidating power while deeply connected to royalty. These ties wove a financial and social empire—proof the Roosevelts were American “royalty” in all but name.

The Panic of 1837 exposed how deeply interconnected New York elites, like the Roosevelts and Astors, were with speculative banking tied to British capital. 

This financial crisis, triggered by reckless lending and land speculation, hit everyday Americans hard while the elite, including John Jacob Astor, profited by snapping up devalued property. 

It showed how their wealth and transatlantic ties shielded them, while regular folks suffered—a pattern some see repeating in modern banking crises. Also, the Second Bank of the United States, which Hamilton’s allies like Schuyler supported, was despised by Andrew Jackson and many Americans for centralizing power in ways that echoed British control, fueling populist distrust of banker elites.


Part 5: Hamilton’s Central Banking Betrayal of the Revolution's Economic Foundation

This essay dives into America’s early financial system.

Focusing on the establishment of central banking and how it corrupted our nation by destroying economic independence Americans fought for during the Revolution.

Key topics explored in order: 

	•	First, Why central banking undermines liberty and representation by enabling unchecked money creation

	•	Second, The Whiskey Rebellion of 1794, citizen outrage, oppressive government tactics 

	•	Third, First Bank of the United States, launched in 1791, enriched elites while devaluing public savings

	•	Fourth, opposition from Founding Fathers like Jefferson, Madison and Monroe who viewed Hamilton’s policies as betraying revolutionary principles

	•	Fifth, the Compromise of 1790, a tense deal balancing regional and economic interests but sacrificing economic sovereignty, corrupting the real impact Americans fought for in the Revolutionary War

	•	Sixth, the Reynolds Affair, used by Hamilton to deflect from financial misconduct allegations 

	•	Seventh, Aaron Burr’s rivalry with Hamilton, including his Manhattan Company challenging centralized banking, and the 1801 duel of Hamilton’s son Philip, tied to economic divides

	•	Finally, a broader reflection on how central banking’s unchecked power erodes free markets and individual liberties, echoing historical resistance to centralized control.

Alexander Hamilton and Central Banking

Alexander Hamilton’s push for a national banking structure, particularly the First Bank of the United States, was a lightning rod in the 1790s, it betrayed the decentralized, anti-authoritarian ideals of the American Revolution. 

While trade restrictions, such as the Navigation Acts, and demands for political self-governance fueled colonial resistance, these grievances were deeply intertwined with centralized financial control. 

British taxation and monetary policies, like those Hamilton later echoed, undermined local autonomy by dictating economic terms, highlighting federal monetary systems as the critical battleground and furthest upstream for the Revolution’s core fight against unaccountable authority.

Hamilton turned the republic into an authoritarian shell and skewed the monetary system. 

He installed a hidden royalty of elites who amassed massive wealth, and entrenched their rule over America.

Robert Morris, a key financier of the American Revolution and Hamilton’s mentor, profited immensely from the First Bank of the United States, holding significant shares and leveraging his mercantile network to influence its operations, as detailed in Charles Rappleye’s biography Robert Morris: Financier of the Revolution (2010). 

Other beneficiaries included Philadelphia merchants like Thomas Willing, Morris’s business partner, who gained wealth through bank stocks and federal bonds, cementing ties with European aristocrats and bankers, per Edwin J. Perkins’ Financing Anglo-American Trade (1975). 

These connections laid the groundwork for later financial dynasties, like J.P. Morgan’s, whose firm inherited influence from earlier elites through New York’s mercantile networks, as Vincent P. Carosso notes in Investment Banking in America (1970). 

Morris and his peers, often obscured by their private dealings, channeled wealth to a nascent financial elite, echoing British aristocratic systems while shaping America’s economic power structure.

They devalued the purchasing power and savings of the people through unchecked money creation—obscured by elite control of media and industries tied to banking. 

Federalist papers like the New-York Evening Post, backed by Hamilton and wealthy merchants, constructed narratives to defend central banking, often drowning out smaller, anti-aristocrat outlets like the Aurora. Robert G. Parkinson’s *The Common Cause* (2016) notes that in the 1790s, elite-funded papers controlled public discourse, with figures like Hamilton leveraging them to marginalize opposition, like during the Whiskey Rebellion.

The First Bank of the United States, handed aristocrats reins to control money. 

It let them buy real goods—land, resources, you name it—with what was essentially money printed from nothing, sidestepping accountability to the public, oppressing the masses and corrupting the system.

Hamilton’s First Bank, launched in 1791, printed currency that was supposed to be backed by gold and silver, but instead tied to flimsy government bonds—mere IOUs worth only the promise of future taxes. 

Speculators traded these bonds like cash, devaluing farmers’ savings in a slick power grab creating a quasi-fiat system where value hinged on a hidden tax. 

Speculators, armed with bonds issued by Hamilton’s First Bank, snapped up vast tracts of land, like in the 1795 Yazoo land scandal, where financiers tied to Robert Morris bought millions of acres in Georgia at dirt-cheap prices, as C. Peter Magrath details in Yazoo: Law and Politics in the New Republic (1966). 

These bonds, often worth only the promise of future taxes, let elites convert flimsy paper into real assets, enriching themselves while dodging public accountability.

This wasn’t financial wizardry; it was a power grab, letting elites print wealth from thin air while devaluing farmers’ savings, a slick move that sparked outrage as it mocked the Revolution’s fight against unaccountable control. It was antithetical to everything America was founded upon. 

Central banking erodes liberties and representation, and it’s a strong through-line to why Americans fought for independence and founding fathers— Jefferson, Madison and Monroe or those Pennsylvania farmers objected so passionately. It’s like giving a small group a cheat code to control the economy while everyone else is stuck playing by the rules.

“No taxation without representation” cuts straight to the heart of the financial system and the power it wields. It’s about control, plain and simple: being taxed by an authority you didn’t choose, which is exactly what central banking does.

Arbitrary debt creation is a key mechanism behind money creation. 

Issuing debt without public consent—like Hamilton’s federal assumption of state debts tied to the First Bank—nationalized banks can print money to cover it, diluting the value of people’s savings and rendering taxation through representation ineffective, since the government can fund itself without public consent. 

It also fosters an illusion of accountability while real power lies elsewhere.

Politicians, banks, and other powerful groups tied to money creation sidestep the democratic process, their control cloaked, reducing democratic accountability to mere propaganda.

Central banking, by enabling unchecked taxation and currency creation, dismantled the very liberties and representation Americans fought for, letting an oligarchy buy influence and control markets.

The Whiskey Rebellion of 1794, sparked by Hamilton’s 1791 excise tax on distilled spirits to fund his federal debt plan highlights repressive tactics including extreme propaganda by way of anonymous essays in papers he or his allies controlled to influence the masses and smear protesters, outright military force, interrogation and prosecution.  

Resistance to his nationalized monetary system was widespread, particularly among middle class Americans and rural Pennsylvanian farmers who likened the tax to British impositions protested in the Revolution. 

It was passed by Congress, which was dominated by Federalists who backed his financial plan. 

Western Pennsylvania farmers, reliant on whiskey as a medium of exchange due to scarce cash and poor roads, faced disproportionate pressure.

They saw it as oppressive. It directly threatened their survival and echoed British levies they fought, igniting protests and violence against tax collectors. 

The tax, a flat rate per gallon, crushed small-scale farmer-distillers. It drained their economic lifeline, pushing many toward ruin. 

They faced hefty fines or jail for non-compliance, with no flexibility. It felt like a targeted blow, ignoring whiskey’s critical role as currency.

Urban distillers, often wealthier with larger operations, could spread tax cost over higher volumes or leverage ties to elites for loopholes, like underreporting output. 

Hamilton, under the pseudonym ‘Tully,’ promoted his oppressive system in 1794 essays for the American Daily Advertiser and New-York Evening Post, branding protesters as threats to the Constitution, urging military force aimed at suppression. A propaganda push shielding his centralized banking vision.

In Tully No. I (August 23, 1794), he argued, “The resistance to the laws of the United States is a bold and daring attempt to subvert the Constitution,” framing the rebels as existential threats to federal authority, not just tax protesters. 

In Tully No. II (August 26, 1794), he doubled down, writing, “There is no road to despotism more sure than that which begins at anarchy,” insisting military action was needed to protect the government’s right to tax, crucial for his debt repayment plan. 

Tully No. III (August 28, 1794) pushed further, stating, “Let the laws be executed with vigor… the spirit of rebellion will be crushed,” urging a show of force to deter future resistance. 

These letters, as noted in The Papers of Alexander Hamilton (vol. 17), weren’t just about rebellion—they were a defense of his centralized vision, portraying opposition as chaos threatening the nation’s stability.

This wasn’t just enforcement—it was propaganda to bolster his economic vision.

Local leaders like Hugh Henry Brackenridge criticized the tax in public meetings, arguing it disproportionately burdened small farmers while benefiting urban financiers tied to Hamilton’s bank. 

In Congressional debates, Hamilton’s ally, Fisher Ames, defended nationalized banking in 1791 as “necessary and proper” for economic stability, reinforcing Hamilton’s narrative in the New-York Evening Post among other Federalist-leaning papers. 

Ames was deeply tied to New England’s mercantile and financial elite, who benefited from Hamilton’s policies. 

His brother-in-law, Nathaniel Appleton, a Boston banker connected to Bank of North America, a precursor to Hamilton’s bank. 

Ames’ Boston based legal practice served wealthy merchants, and his 1793 correspondence with Theodore Sedgwick, a Federalist financier, shows he lobbied for policies favoring Boston’s commercial interests, tied to stock in Hamilton’s bank. 

Boston Gazette (1792) noted Ames’ ties to “monied men” who profited from federal bonds, suggesting his advocacy for central banking wasn’t just ideological but served ultra wealthy social and economic circles. 

His opposition to Whiskey Rebellion protesters, calling them “rabble” in a 1794 letter to Christopher Gore, further aligned him with urban elites over rural farmers, reinforcing Ames' stake in Hamilton’s centralized structure.

Hamilton's allies framed his policies as essential for national growth, downplaying accusations of elitism. 

Hamilton successfully advocated a forceful response, urging President Washington to raise a 13,000-man militia to quash protesters, as outlined in Washington’s August 1794 proclamation. 

Beyond advising, Hamilton managed this operation, and took an active role, personally joining the military's Pittsburgh expedition, where he directed interrogations and pushed for arrests, according to military records cited in William Hogeland’s The Whiskey Rebellion (2006). 

He directed logistics and as mentioned before, the narrative, arguing in a 1794 New-York Evening Post letter that force was necessary to uphold federal authority, framing rebels as threats to national stability. 

His hands-on approach, unusual for a treasury official, fueled Americans pointed to Hamilton's overreach. 

Jefferson, a fierce opponent of centralized power, was alarmed. 

The rebellion’s crushing showed Jefferson that Hamilton’s system, like British control wasn’t just economic but a tool for enforcing oligarchy control.

In a November 1794 letter to Madison, Jefferson called the tax “an infernal one” and Hamilton’s troop deployment a “dangerous precedent,” arguing it mimicked British oppression and eroded revolutionary principle of local self-governance. 

A 1795 Jefferson letter to William Branch Giles, went further, accusing Hamilton of using rebellion to “glorify federal power” and intimidate dissenters, likening it to monarchical tactics. 

He insisted that federal troops against citizens set a precedent, justifying future crackdowns and undermining republic democratic spirit.

Similar to independent media outlets, a 1794 article in the Aurora called Hamilton’s actions “tyrannical,” while more powerful and numerous Federalist papers like the Post defended him as protecting order. 

Hamilton’s aggressive stance bolstered his financial system’s enforcement but widened divides with adversaries like Jefferson, who viewed it as betraying decentralized ideals.

Hamilton’s involvement in 1794's Whiskey Rebellion wasn’t just strategic—he was boots-on-the-ground, pushing a hardline response to cement federal authority tied to his centralized financial system. 

Washington, swayed by Hamilton’s vision, faced a complex choice—back federal authority or heed farmers’ cries for revolutionary liberty—showing how even revered leaders, caught in nuanced pressures from powerful groups, could prioritize centralized power over principle.

Hamilton drafted Washington’s public statements, meaning he wrote them for Washington including a September 1794 letter to Congress, where he called the rebels “insurgents” who “threaten the very existence of government,” justifying military force to protect his tax policy. 

Historical records, like those in The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 17, show Hamilton crafted key documents. 

As Treasury Secretary, Hamilton drafted speeches and proclamations for Washington, shaping the narrative to justify the militia response and defend his tax policy. 

His role granted him unparalleled influence over Washington, unmatched in scope, per The Papers of Alexander Hamilton.

A cunning advisor in a great leader's ear, Hamilton crafted Washington’s words, framing the rebels as threats to national stability while strategically advocating for  his centralized financial system.

In a November 1794 letter to Angelica Schuyler Church, he wrote, “I have been obliged to accompany the army… to ensure the execution of the laws,” showing his personal commitment to quashing the rebellion, rare for a treasury official. 

He also conducted interrogations in Pittsburgh, as recorded in military dispatches (cited in The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 17), pushing for arrests of key rebels like David Bradford, though he later advised leniency to avoid further unrest, per a 1794 memo to Washington. 

This dual role—enforcer and diplomat—shows Hamilton balancing raw power with calculated restraint to secure his financial system’s legitimacy. 

Jefferson’s critique, as mentioned, saw this as authoritarian overreach. 

In a December 1794 letter to James Monroe, Jefferson wrote, “Hamilton’s parade of troops is a mockery of republican principles,” arguing it suppressed legitimate grievances against an unfair tax. 

In a 1795 letter to Archibald Stuart, Jefferson called Hamilton’s actions “a scheme to exalt federal power at the expense of the people’s liberty.” 

These quotes highlight Jefferson’s realization that Hamilton was using the rebellion to entrench centralized control, akin to British tactics. 

Jefferson’s insights about Hamilton’s power grab weren’t just about taxes or troops—they set the stage for deeper political battles. 

These political battles, fueled by Hamilton’s financial system, exposed the growing rift between federal authority and revolutionary ideals of local governance, setting the stage for contentious negotiations.

The 1790 Compromise, where Jefferson and Madison agreed to neutrality on Hamilton’s debt assumption in exchange for moving the capital south, arose from intense regional, economic, and political pressures, not just ideals. 

Known as the Dinner Table Bargain, it was no simple trade but a complex deal shaped by clashing interests and personal dynamics. 

As Treasury Secretary, Hamilton pushed federal assumption of Revolutionary War state debts, intending to centralize financial power and tie states to the national government.

Southern states like Virginia, home to Jefferson and Madison, had repaid most war debts, viewing assumption as favoring northern states like Massachusetts and New York, whose mercantile economies stood to gain from Hamilton’s financial system, including the First Bank, criticized for empowering elites. 

Jefferson and Madison’s neutrality wasn’t born of goodwill but necessity. The political climate was intense, new Constitution barely ratified, the young republic, fragile. 

Disagreement over debt assumption threatened to split the nation along regional lines, which, as Jefferson warned in his 1824 autobiographical notes, could cause ‘dissolution of our union’, underscoring the high stakes he perceived. Madison, a leading congressman, shared this concern, per the Annals of Congress (1790). Agreeing to the deal aimed to preserve the nation.

Relocating America's capital was a powerful bargaining chip. 

Northerners, like Hamilton’s allies, wanted it in New York or to stay in Philly. For other folks, moving it to the Potomac was vital to balance national influence. 

Entrenched Federalist voting strength in Congress limited negotiations, elites had enough votes to push parts of Hamilton's central banking plan through as debates in the Gazette of the United States (1790) show. Madison’s initial opposition to assumption failed in Congress, narrowing his options. 

Also, Hamilton was relentless. He and his allies influence over Washington was strong.

A Virginian himself, Washington faced complex dynamics like claims of hometown bias, substantial pressure from powerful interests and risking union fracture, he leaned toward Hamilton’s centralized vision, pressing Jefferson and Madison to avoid alienating him and risking political capital or national unity. 

Economic ties also played a role in the south: farmers relied on northern merchants, and defaulting northern states could disrupt trade. Also, Jefferson’s 1790 letter to Monroe noted some southern elites held federal securities that would profit from assumption, creating internal pressure. 

Common Americans, per the Aurora (1790), opposed the plan for favoring aristocrats and speculators, fueling distrust of Hamilton’s vision. 

Ultimately, the Compromise sacrificed middle- and lower-class economic sovereignty, undermining essential revolutionary ideals American's fought for. 

The Compromise’s favoring of powerful interests mirrored a broader historical pattern of centralized banking’s erosion of economic freedom, evident in earlier revolutionary resistance.

Evidence of revolutionary's consistent fight against central banking include the Stamp Act protests of 1765, Virginia Non-Importation Agreements of 1769 and the 1773 North Carolina Regulators’ Movement, just to name a few. 

A couple other lesser known examples, in 1791, Hamilton spearheaded the Society for Establishing Useful Manufactures (SUM), a New Jersey industrial venture funded partly by First Bank loans and government securities, channeling public wealth to aristocrats like William Duer and Robert Morris, as Barbara A. Chernow details in The War of Wealth (1990). 

Promising national growth, SUM’s speculative land and factory schemes collapsed by 1792, enriching insiders while leaving taxpayers and small investors to absorb the losses, further exposing Hamilton’s system as a tool for elite enrichment. 

Earlier, in 1740's, pre-revolution America, Massachusetts’ Land Bank issued paper money backed by land, not gold, allowing wealthy merchants like Samuel Adams Sr. to fund speculative ventures, as Margaret E. Newell describes in From Dependency to Independence (1998). 

Aristocrats used these banknotes to buy up land and goods, devaluing poorer colonists’ savings, sparking protests from farmers who saw it as a rigged system favoring the connected, a clear precursor to Hamilton’s bond-driven power grab. 

Similarly, the 1774 First Continental Congress, where delegates from twelve colonies united to reject British trade regulations and assert colonial self-governance, reflected the same anti-centralized authority spirit that critics like Jefferson and Madison championed against Hamilton’s policies. 

These examples embody the push for local control and highlight America's very foundation. 

The core tenant of America's revolution was a battle against central banking which was forced on America by the English. 

Americans fought outright, repeatedly for local economic independence. A principle Hamilton’s centralized banking system undermined by prioritizing elite financial interests. 

Critics like Thomas Jefferson and James Madison viewed Hamilton’s policies—national banking, federal assumption of state debts, and excise taxes—as favoring northern elites and mimicking British monarchical systems. 

Jefferson, in a 1791 letter to Washington, called the bank unconstitutional, a “felonious larceny” enriching speculators. 

In 1792, he told Madison it was a “corrupt squadron” aiming for monarchy, while Madison, in a 1791 Congressional speech, argued it violated state rights, warning it concentrated economic power. 

Monroe, another opponent, saw it as eroding liberties, writing in 1793 that Hamilton’s system threatened “the fabric of our freedoms.” John Taylor of Caroline, in 1794, labeled the bank a “machine for corruption,” tying government to wealth. 

These critiques show a fierce ideological battle over centralization, not personal vendettas. 

Hamilton, and his allies, used personal scandals like the 1797 Reynolds affair to distract from their economic agenda.

The affair, exposed by journalist James Callender, not Hamilton’s political rivals like Monroe, centered on payments to James Reynolds, Maria’s husband. Not the affair that media focused on. 

Media was almost exclusively controlled by ultra wealthy interests who supported central banking.

Initially, in 1792, Monroe and others investigated these payments, suspecting financial misconduct tied to speculation, not an affair. 

By openly confessing to the affair with Maria Reynolds, he aimed to shut down speculation of financial corruption tied to James Reynolds, which worked to some extent.

People were more shocked by his personal drama than vague financial claims.

Hamilton admitted to adultery but denied corruption, and the matter quieted until Callender’s (a journalist, not a rival politician) leak. 

James Callender, a journalist with a grudge against the Federalists, leaked more details and documents in 1801, he stirred it all back up.

Callender’s leaks were juicier and more aggressive, amplifying the scandal by spreading it wider and framing it as proof of Hamilton’s untrustworthiness, reigniting public and political gossip. 

Hamilton’s public 1797 pamphlet leaned heavily into his personal failings, deflecting from financial questions. 

His public admissions leaned hard into personal scandal, a wild move—admitting to the affair to dodge financial misconduct accusations tied to James Reynolds. 

It’s no wonder many thought he orchestrated leaks himself to shift focus from his banking policies in an era where personal and economic motives blurred.  

During Hamilton’s tenure as Treasury Secretary in the 1790s, his policies—federal assumption of state debts and the First Bank—fueled speculative frenzies, like the Panic of 1792, where insiders profited from inflated bank stocks and bonds, per *The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 9*. 

Minor players like James Reynolds exploited connections to Hamilton, using payments to dabble in these volatile markets, enriching themselves while ordinary citizens faced losses.

Government securities and bank stocks, especially tied to the First Bank, drove recurring waves of speculation in cities like New York and Philadelphia, often crashing and leaving common investors burned, as Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton (2004) details.

These bubbles often crashed, like the Panic of 1792, where speculators would over-leverage on bank shares. James Reynolds, as a minor speculator, operated in this volatile environment, using Hamilton’s payments to invest in these markets.

Similarly, William Duer, a financier and Hamilton ally, snapped up First Bank stock subscriptions in 1791 at low prices, inflating their value through rampant speculation before the market crashed in the Panic of 1792, as documented in The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 8. 

This insider scheme let aristocrats like Duer amass wealth with paper assets, leaving ordinary investors to bear the losses while entrenching elite control over the financial system.

In 1792, when Monroe and others investigated Hamilton for suspected financial misconduct, they initially thought Reynolds’ payments might point to corruption tied to Treasury dealings, but Hamilton admitted the affair to quash those suspicions.

Hamilton, an ever cunning strategist, leaned into his lecherous scandal with Reynolds to divert attention from his federal banking agenda.

His efforts proved effective, public focus shifted from his divisive bank policies, already law by then. Central banking was amassing power and influence fast. 

Federalist-leaning press, like the Post in 1797, focused on Hamilton’s honor, not policy, while one of the few non-elite papers—National Gazette called his system “British,” avoiding his personal life. 

Jefferson, Madison, and others had no documented interest in spreading Hamilton’s personal scandals—their writings, like Jefferson’s 1801 letter to Taylor predicting the bank’s collapse, stayed laser-focused on policy. 

While Hamilton’s Reynolds affair distracted from his banking policies, it fueled tensions with Burr, whose own bank challenged Hamilton’s centralized control.

Aaron Burr’s rivalry with Hamilton, culminating in their 1804 duel, wasn’t just personal either. 

Hamilton’s centralized banking system also fueled rivalries with figures like Aaron Burr, whose competing vision for a more democratic financial system directly challenged Hamilton’s elite-driven model. 

Burr’s story, often reduced to personal drama, reveals another layer of the fight against centralized power, showing how economic battles were buried under personal scandals.

Burr’s Manhattan Company of 1799, a bank rivaling Hamilton’s Bank of New York, challenged Hamilton’s financial dominance outright and aligned with decentralized, competitive banking over federal control. 

Burr’s letters from 1799 pitched his bank as democratizing credit, contrasting Hamilton’s elite-focused system. 

Yet the press, especially Federalist papers like Hamilton’s New-York Evening Post, framed Burr as irrational and vengeful post-duel, emphasizing Hamilton’s noble pre-duel letter—where he vowed to throw away his shot—while ignoring their economic rivalry. Duels were already criticized as reckless in his time. 

Burr's actions and words leading up to it screamed he was serious. In their pre-duel letters, Burr was cold and insistent, demanding Hamilton retract insults or face consequences, showing no room for compromise. 

Hamilton’s vague replies didn’t help, and Burr’s history of taking duels seriously—like his earlier ones—hinted he wasn’t playing. Unlike Hamilton, who signaled he’d throw his shot, Burr kept his intentions focused, leaving clear sign hevwould not go easy. It was clear enough to anyone paying attention that Burr meant business. 

Republican papers like Aurora also criticized Burr’s violence, not policy, ensuring the duel’s narrative stayed personal, overshadowing the banking conflict. 

Mainstream media amplified Hamilton’s martyrdom after his death, burying economic debates. 

By framing Burr as reckless and Hamilton as tragic (even though duel's were voluntary, relatively common and the risks by each were known and accepted by both sides), papers ensured central banking’s controversies faded behind personal drama, shielding Hamilton’s legacy and the system he built, which benefited powerful interests. 

The duel’s personal drama overshadowed Burr’s broader challenge to Hamilton’s financial system, which resurfaced in his 1807 treason trial as elites sought to neutralize his disruptive influence.

Post-duel, Aaron Burr’s 1807 treason trial for allegedly plotting to seize western territories was linked by some contemporaries, like Virginia’s Enquirer, to his anti-centralization stance.

Pressures on Jefferson in the Burr Treason Trial By 1807

Aaron Burr’s alleged plot to form a western empire or invade Spanish territories, known as the Burr Conspiracy, threatened both President Thomas Jefferson and the entrenched financial powers tied to Alexander Hamilton’s concentration of power-banking scheme. 

As discussed earlier, Jefferson was opposed to the First Bank, expressed in his 1791 letter to Washington as unconstitutional, it was implemented nonetheless. Federalist bankers soon controlled commerce. Broad bank influence increased rapidly, empowering northern merchants, big government and their associates.

Burr’s Manhattan Company, established in 1799 to challenge Hamilton’s Bank of New York, positioned him as a threat to concentrated power, particularly if his western schemes disrupted Mississippi River trade, as feared by elites in the Richmond Enquirer (February 1807). 

Jefferson, harboring a personal vendetta against Burr from the 1800 election, as seen in his 1807 letter to William Giles calling Burr untrustworthy, declared Burr guilty of treason in 1806 before any indictment, bypassing standard judicial processes. 

This haste suggests external pressures, likely from Federalist-aligned bankers and merchants who viewed Burr’s instability as a risk to their economic interests. General James Wilkinson, a key witness who betrayed Burr, had ties to eastern merchants and Spanish officials, as later exposed in his 1811 court-martial, hinting at a broader agenda to neutralize Burr. 

Federalist papers like the New-York Evening Post amplified Burr’s villainy, diverting attention from his anti-centralization stance. 

Though acquitted under Chief Justice Marshall’s strict treason definition in United States v. Aaron Burr (1807), the trial’s aggressive prosecution reflects a convergence of Jefferson’s personal motives and pressures from centralized forces to eliminate Burr’s disruptive influence, sidelining his challenge to their financial system.

Philip Hamilton’s Duel and Ties to Centralized Banking In November 1801, Alexander Hamilton’s eldest son, Philip, aged 19, was fatally shot in a duel in Weehawken, New Jersey, by George Eacker, a Republican lawyer aligned with Jeffersonian anti-Federalist views. 

The duel stemmed from Philip defending his father’s honor after Eacker’s July 4th speech, reported in the New-York Gazette, criticized Alexander Hamilton’s First Bank of the United States as a tool for “monied aristocrats,” echoing non-elite opposition to centralized financial power. 

The New-York Evening Post framed Philip as nobly protecting his father’s legacy, while the Aurora suggested his actions mirrored Hamilton’s polarizing tactics. 

Though Philip held no direct role in banking, defense of his father's role tied him to a nationalized system that clashed with America’s decentralized revolutionary ideals, with Eacker’s economic critique highlighting broader political rift over federal financial control. 

Deeper context on Hamilton, central banking, and the power struggles get glossed over in school curriculums, likely because it challenges clean narratives that prop up centralized systems. 

Focus on personal dramas like duels or scandals often overshadowed economic fights that formed America. Those in power—then and now—benefit from keeping it that way.

These events underscore how Hamilton’s financial system fueled economic and regional divides, often obscured by narratives propagated through prominent media, education systems, politicians, banks, other influential groups, industries and interests.

Hamilton's and his allies like Ames' push for central control, tying it to elite interests while sidelining the decentralized ideals of America's revolution, outraged founding fathers like Jefferson, Madison, Monroe and everyday Americans. 

There's a long history of centralized banking as old as political systems themselves. It’s a story of power consolidating that keeps echoing through time.

Nation banking is the root problem. It erodes representation and individual liberties. Individual liberties, representation and money are inseparable.

Federalized financial control, like England’s or Hamilton’s system, undermines free markets, debases currency, and fuels corruption, which strips away both representation and liberties. 

If any government or group can print money others are forced to use, they control markets. 

They buy things with money printed from nothing other than ink and paper that other people must spend time, energy and real resources to get.
 
Whether or not money can be manipulated is foundational.

It’s the most powerful tool any group could possess and it's objectively unavoidably unjust. It is, by definition corruption and oppression. 

Arbitrary money or debt creation is not just taxation, it's the ability for one group to purchase real world valuable goods for nothing. It is highly unethical, uncheckable, unlimited power.

With arbitrary debt and money creation, politicians and banks rob commoners’ savings, slashing their purchasing power while aristocrat’s wealth soars. The masses are stripped of their ability to vote with dollars or shape markets, ‘taxation through representation’ a hollow slogan, a cruel mirage masking unaccountable rule.

Central banking is a hidden royal class, its authoritarianism disguised as safety or stability. 

Money printing and national banking incentivizes propaganda, corruption, obstructing truth and a loss of individual agency.