Senator Bill Hagerty made headlines on August 15, 2025, when he appeared on Fox Business to advocate for a controversial bill that would exclude undocumented immigrants from the U.S. census. The census, conducted every ten years, determines how congressional seats are distributed among the states, and for centuries, it has counted all residents regardless of citizenship status. Hagerty’s proposal, if enacted, would mark a sharp departure from longstanding precedent and could have sweeping political consequences.
During his televised appearance, Hagerty argued, “We should only be counting citizens,” asserting that his bill would prevent certain states from “backfilling with illegal aliens.” According to Fox Business, Hagerty’s rationale hinges on a constitutional interpretation he claims has been misapplied for generations. When pressed by host Ashley Webster about the legality of such a change, Hagerty responded, “There’s constitutional interpretation, I think, that has been misapplied. It goes back to slavery days and, you know, what portion of a person is going to be counted, et cetera.”
This statement, as reported by Fox Business and further analyzed by legal experts cited in multiple outlets, refers to the infamous Three-Fifths Compromise of 1787. That agreement, struck during the Constitutional Convention, determined that only three-fifths of a state’s enslaved population would count toward both apportionment and taxation. While all enslaved individuals were included in the federal census, their representation was deliberately diminished—a deeply controversial and odious legacy that has shaped American history.
Hagerty’s invocation of this compromise as precedent for excluding undocumented immigrants has sparked immediate debate. Legal scholar Steve Vladeck, quoted by several news organizations, noted that even under the Three-Fifths Compromise, “all enslaved individuals were still included in the federal census, even if in an ‘odious way.’” This historical footnote highlights the complexity—and the controversy—of using such an episode as a template for modern policy.
But Hagerty didn’t stop there. He further claimed, “It was not the intent of the Founding Fathers to count undocumented immigrants.” Yet, as historians and constitutional scholars have pointed out, the original language of the Constitution was deliberate in its inclusivity. Rather than specifying “citizens,” the Framers used the term “persons” to define who should be counted in the census. This choice, according to a range of legal experts, was no accident. It reflected a broad understanding that the census should tally all residents, not just those with formal citizenship status.
The debate over who gets counted in the census is not new. In 1866, following the Civil War, Congress passed the Fourteenth Amendment, which abolished the Three-Fifths Compromise. The amendment’s language was clear: apportionment populations would include “the whole number of persons in each State.” This decision, as recorded in the Congressional Record and cited by constitutional historians, reaffirmed that noncitizens—regardless of their legal status—were to be counted for the purpose of congressional representation.
Hagerty’s bill, therefore, would not only break with more than a century of established practice but also challenge the very text of the Constitution as amended after the Civil War. Critics warn that excluding undocumented immigrants from the census could disproportionately impact states with large immigrant populations, shifting political power away from urban centers and toward less diverse regions. Supporters, on the other hand, argue that counting only citizens would provide a more accurate reflection of the electorate and prevent what they see as unfair advantages for states with higher numbers of undocumented residents.
The political stakes are high, and the timing could hardly be more charged. As the Senate prepares to reconvene in September 2025, another major procedural battle looms. According to statements made by Senator Bernie Moreno and reported by multiple outlets, Republicans are gearing up to consider changes to chamber rules that would allow for faster confirmation of President Donald Trump’s nominees. “We have 144 nominations left to do and 160 still going through committee,” Moreno said last week at the Capitol. “That’s a huge number. The way the Democrats are forcing us to do it with historic obstruction doesn’t make any sense. So I think there’s a huge appetite for us to change the rules.”
Moreno’s comments reflect growing frustration within the Republican caucus over what they describe as Democratic stonewalling. The backlog of nominations—144 awaiting confirmation and 160 still in committee—has become a flashpoint in the broader battle over the pace and direction of government appointments. Republicans argue that procedural delays are hampering the administration’s ability to staff key agencies and implement its agenda. Democrats, for their part, insist that rigorous scrutiny is necessary, especially in an era of heightened political polarization and contentious policy debates.
The proposed rule change would mark another significant shift in Senate norms, potentially reducing the time allocated for debate on nominees and streamlining the confirmation process. Whether such a change will actually be enacted remains uncertain. As Moreno himself acknowledged, “Considering those changes—and actually enacting them—could be two very different things.” The outcome will depend not only on internal party dynamics but also on the willingness of senators to break with tradition in pursuit of political expediency.
Both the census bill and the proposed rule change on nominations reflect a broader trend in American politics: the willingness of lawmakers to revisit, reinterpret, or even abandon longstanding norms in pursuit of short-term goals. For some, these moves represent necessary reforms to address contemporary challenges. For others, they signal a troubling erosion of the principles that have underpinned American democracy for generations.
As the Senate prepares for a busy and contentious fall session, all eyes will be on the fate of these proposals. The debate over who counts—and how quickly nominees can be confirmed—goes to the heart of questions about representation, fairness, and the meaning of citizenship in a rapidly changing nation. With history as both a guide and a warning, lawmakers will have to decide whether to uphold tradition or chart a new, untested course.
The coming months promise no shortage of drama on Capitol Hill. Whether these bold legislative gambits succeed or falter, they will shape the contours of American governance for years to come.
