 Whatever else might be said of law, this much is undeniably true: where law exists, our conduct is subject to various forms of restriction. But in many instances, the relevant restrictions can be removed or changed with minimal effort, as when a problematic common-law precedent is overturned because of changing social circumstances, or a statute is repealed or amended because it no longer serves useful purposes. Not so with constitutions. As noted above, they tend to be heavily entrenched. Constitutions are also meant to be long lasting, so as to serve the values of continuity and stability in the basic framework within which the contentious affairs of law and politics are conducted. The entrenched nature of constitutions is largely unproblematic when we consider provisions dealing with such matters as the length of term of a senator or which branch of government is responsible for regulating public education. But things get much more complicated and contentious when we turn to the highly abstract, moral provisions of most modern constitutions which have the effect of limiting the powers of government bodies in significant ways. These special features of constitutions combine to give rise to a fundamental question, one that causes the originalist so much difficulty and to which living constitutionalism purports to provide a better answer: How can one group of people justifiably place entrenched constitutional impediments of a decidedly moral nature in the way of a second group of people who might live in radically different circumstances and perhaps with radically different moral views? How, in short, can one generation legitimately bind the moral choices of another? A satisfactory answer to this intergenerational problem, living constitutionalists contend, requires that we recognize that constitutions can grow and adapt to ever-changing circumstances without losing their identity or their legitimacy.