For most of my life, I have accepted the size of the U.S. House of Representatives as a settled fact—435 members, fixed and unquestioned. It feels constitutional, even though it isn’t. Like many things in our civic life, it has simply been there for as long as I can remember, and so I assumed it must be right.
Lately, I’ve begun to wonder if that assumption deserves another look.
The Constitution does not fix the size of the House. Instead, it establishes a principle: representation should grow with the people. The House was meant to expand as the nation expanded, preserving proximity between representatives and those they serve. Over time, however, that principle was quietly set aside—not through a constitutional amendment, but through ordinary legislation.
In 1929, Congress passed what became known as the Permanent Apportionment Act, capping the House at 435 members regardless of population growth. At the time, the country was in the midst of rapid change. Urban populations were growing. Political power was shifting. Congress had even failed to reapportion after the 1920 census, something it had never done before. The Act resolved a political stalemate by freezing the size of the House and automating future reapportionment within that limit.
It solved a problem—but at a cost.
When the House first convened, there was roughly one representative for every 30,000 citizens. Today, there is closer to one for every 750,000. That is not a small adjustment. It represents a profound change in how representation actually functions. A single representative is now expected to meaningfully know, hear, and speak for a population larger than many cities.
At some point, representation becomes too thin to be representative.
The Founders were deeply suspicious of distant power. They feared a ruling class separated from the people not only by law, but by geography and daily life. Members of the House were meant to live among their constituents, return home often, and remain rooted in the concerns of ordinary people. Service was intended to be temporary, local, and grounded.
Today, that model has largely reversed. Representatives often relocate to Washington, D.C. Their daily relationships are shaped more by political institutions, staffers, and lobbyists than by the neighborhoods and communities they were elected to serve. This is not a judgment on their character; it is an acknowledgment of how environments shape us all.
To be fair, there are objections to expanding the House. A larger body would require new procedures, more coordination, and greater expense. These are real concerns. But they are practical concerns, not constitutional ones. They assume that efficiency should take precedence over closeness, and manageability over accountability.
That is a telling assumption.
The Permanent Apportionment Act was never submitted to the people as a fundamental change in representation. It was a response to a political impasse that quietly became permanent. Nearly a century later, we are living with its consequences—often without realizing it.
Many citizens feel unheard. Local and rural concerns feel invisible. Political power feels distant and unresponsive. We tend to explain this in terms of personalities or parties, but rarely do we ask whether the structure itself contributes to the problem.
I am not offering a finished solution here. I am asking whether we have accepted a system simply because it is familiar. If representation is foundational to a free society, then it deserves more than administrative convenience and historical inertia.
Perhaps the House has not kept pace with the people it claims to represent. And perhaps wisdom begins by admitting that a question long ignored is still worth asking.
A Prayer
Lord God,
You are the giver of wisdom and the judge of all hearts.
You see what we often overlook and know the ends from the beginnings.
Grant us humility to question what we have assumed,
courage to seek truth even when it unsettles us,
and wisdom to discern what is just, not merely what is efficient.
Guide our leaders, our institutions, and our own thinking,
that power would serve the people and not itself,
and that representation would reflect the dignity of those made in Your image.
Teach us to govern with justice, restraint, and faithfulness,
and to seek Your will above our own.
Amen.