John Adams has always been the underrated founder. Washington was the indispensable man, Jefferson the poet of liberty, Hamilton the financial genius. Adams was the vice president who called his office the most insignificant invented by man or his imagination, the president who lost to Jefferson after one term, the founder whose son became president and whose family went on to distinction but whose own reputation never quite recovered from the political catastrophe of his administration. David McCullough spent years with Adams’s extraordinary archive of letters and diaries and arrived at a portrait that changes this assessment entirely.
John Adams is a full-life biography, running from Adams’s childhood on a Massachusetts farm through his death at ninety years old on July 4, 1826, which was also, with a coincidence that seems too neat for fiction, the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence and the same day Thomas Jefferson died. McCullough covers Adams’s legal career, his role in the Continental Congress, his years as a diplomat in Europe, his time as Washington’s vice president, his contentious single term as president, and his extraordinary correspondence with Jefferson in old age. It is an enormous life rendered in full.
The Adams that emerges from McCullough’s account is a man of remarkable qualities who was temperamentally unsuited for the politics of his era. He was honest to a fault in a world where political management required selective dishonesty. He was independent in a world where party loyalty was increasingly the price of survival. He made decisions, including the decision to avoid war with France that probably cost him reelection in 1800, based on his judgment of what was right for the country rather than what was right for his political prospects, and the country benefited from his decisions without rewarding them.
Abigail Adams is a towering presence throughout the book, and McCullough’s portrait of their marriage is one of the finest things in it. Abigail was her husband’s most trusted adviser and most honest critic. Their correspondence during the years he spent in Europe and in Philadelphia is the most intimate record of a founding marriage we have, and McCullough uses it to illuminate both of them. She was a woman of extraordinary intelligence who happened to live in a world that had no place for women’s public intelligence, and her limitations were the limitations of her era rather than of her character.
At 751 pages, the book covers an enormous amount of ground, and McCullough’s pacing is admirably steady throughout. He is particularly good at the European sections, which cover Adams’s years in Paris and London as a diplomat, navigating the court politics of the French Revolution and negotiating the peace treaty that ended the Revolutionary War. These sections could easily have become sluggish, but McCullough keeps them moving by focusing on Adams’s personality and his relations with the people around him, including Benjamin Franklin, whose company Adams found both stimulating and irritating.
The book’s deepest argument is about the relationship between integrity and political success. Adams’s integrity was real and consistent: he believed things, said what he believed, and acted on what he said, regardless of the political consequences. In an era when this approach cost him the presidency, McCullough argues that it was also Adams’s greatest contribution to the republic he helped found. The institutions he believed in and the principles he articulated, including an independent judiciary and the rule of law, survived his political defeat and shaped the country long after his particular policies were forgotten.
There is also a meditation on friendship and rivalry embedded in the book’s treatment of the Adams-Jefferson relationship. They were close friends, then bitter enemies when Jefferson’s people ran Adams out of office, then reconciled in old age through a remarkable decade-long correspondence. Their letters in old age are among the greatest in American history, and McCullough uses them to explore what it meant to be a founder looking back at what they had built and wondering whether it would survive.
This is McCullough at his best: clear, authoritative, warm, and deeply in command of his material. He writes biography the way biography should be written, which is to say he is always focused on the person rather than on the period, and he trusts the person’s intrinsic interest to carry the reader through the historical context that surrounds him. The Adams archive is extraordinarily rich and McCullough uses it fully, letting Adams speak in his own words whenever possible.
John Adams is one of the finest presidential biographies ever written. It restores Adams to his proper place in the founding generation, which is to say among the very first rank of the men who built the American republic, and it does so through the most thorough engagement with the primary sources that popular history can sustain. Anyone who reads it will not be able to think of Adams as the disappointing second president again.
Five stars: a Pulitzer Prize-winning biography that justifies every page.
Several factors combined to diminish Adams’s historical reputation. He was sandwiched between two of the most iconic founders (Washington and Jefferson), he served only one term, he was defeated by Jefferson in what became a defining political contest, and his personality, blunt, vain, and honest to a fault, did not lend itself to mythologizing. His greatest decision, avoiding war with France at the cost of his political career, was not recognized as the statesmanship it was until long after his death. McCullough’s biography played a significant role in rehabilitating his reputation.
Adams and Jefferson had a complex relationship that moved through friendship, rivalry, estrangement, and reconciliation. They worked closely together in the Continental Congress and in Europe, became close friends, and then became political enemies when Jefferson’s supporters ran Adams out of the presidency in 1800. They did not correspond for years. In old age, they resumed their friendship through a remarkable ten-year correspondence that explored philosophy, history, religion, and the legacy of the Revolution. Both died on July 4, 1826, the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.
His most consequential decision was to negotiate a peace with France in 1800 rather than go to war, despite enormous political pressure from his own Federalist Party. War with France would have been popular and would likely have secured his reelection. Peace was the right choice for the country and cost him the presidency. McCullough argues that this decision, made explicitly against his political interest, is the measure of Adams’s character and his greatest contribution to the republic.
It is central. John and Abigail Adams exchanged hundreds of letters during the years they were separated by his political work, and these letters are the most intimate record of a founding marriage available. McCullough uses them extensively to illuminate both characters. Abigail’s letters are remarkable documents in their own right: she was highly educated, politically astute, and unafraid to challenge her husband’s judgments. The correspondence also reveals John Adams’s emotional life with an openness that most founding figures’ archives do not permit.
Adams was a lawyer and a deep believer in the rule of law, which he saw as the foundation of republican government. His most durable institutional legacy was his appointment of John Marshall as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, one of the last acts of his presidency. Marshall went on to serve for thirty-four years and established the principle of judicial review, which made the Supreme Court a coequal branch of government. Adams considered this appointment his most important contribution and its legacy justifies the assessment.
Among founding-era biographies, John Adams ranks with Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton and Walter Isaacson’s Benjamin Franklin as the best of the modern wave. It differs from Team of Rivals, which is also by McCullough and covers a later period, in being a more purely biographical work: it is organized around one person’s life rather than around a political situation. Readers interested in the founding era should read this book alongside Jefferson’s writing and Chernow’s Hamilton for a fuller picture of the period’s complexity.
McCullough is a meticulous researcher who grounds his work in primary sources and provides extensive documentation. He writes for general readers rather than academic specialists, which means he makes some narrative choices that academic historians might make differently. He has been criticized for being insufficiently critical of his subjects, a charge that is not entirely fair in the case of Adams, whom he presents honestly, including Adams’s vanity and political failures. For a comprehensive account of the founding era from an academic perspective, his work should be supplemented with scholarly sources, but as popular history it is among the most reliable available.
They died within hours of each other on the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, a coincidence so remarkable that contemporaries immediately perceived it as meaningful. Jefferson died in the morning; Adams died in the afternoon, his last words reportedly being “Thomas Jefferson survives,” unaware that Jefferson had preceded him. McCullough does not offer a supernatural explanation, but he gives the coincidence the full weight of its historical poignancy. The two men who had done more than almost anyone else to create the republic it was celebrating died on the day it turned fifty.