Last autumn, The Conservative Agenda Project asked a number
of young conservatives, primarily students working on the
conservative newspapers in the Collegiate Network sponsored by the
Intercollegiate Studies Institute, to submit an essay on how they
talk to their fellow students about conservatism. A cash prize and
publication were offered for the best essay. The project was
inspired by a remark William F. Buckley Jr. made in an address to
the Conservative Party of New York State in 1964:
Modern formulations are necessary even in defense of very
ancient truths. Not because of any alleged anachronism in the old
ideas—the Beatitudes remain the essential statement of the Western
code—but because the idiom of life is always changing, and we need
to say things in such a way as to get inside the vibrations of
modern life.
Abigail Olin of the Tiger Town Observer at Clemson
University submitted the winning essay, which The American
Spectator is pleased to publish in this issue. In her piece, Olin
emphasizes the necessity of grounding arguments in philosophy
rather than pragmatism.
***
William F. Buckley Jr. once said, “Idealism is fine, but as it
approaches reality, the costs become prohibitive.” I frequently
find, in discussions with fellow conservatives about the most
effective methods to communicate conservative ideas, that when I
mention the philosophical basis of conservatism, it is often
brushed off as being impractical or idealistic. My friends see it
as perhaps a noble cause, but not a viable way to persuade
non-conservatives of the virtues of conservatism.
The majority of young conservatives choose to take what they see
as a more practical and pragmatic route when trying to appeal to
people of other political ideologies. Because their arguments
require less philosophical background and seem to be almost
self-evident, it may appear that this is not only the easier but
also the more effective avenue to winning people over to the side
of conservatism. It is true that comprehensibly explaining the
moral and philosophical foundations of the conservative political
movement is far from the “quick and dirty” approach of pragmatism.
It takes time, patience, and understanding. I believe, however,
that reaching the philosophical roots of conservatism is ultimately
the most worthwhile and effective way of spreading conservative
thought.
When conservative ideas win out in an intellectual battle on
practical or utilitarian grounds, it may be a temporary win for
some particular political issue, but it does little to further the
conservative movement. It leaves open the possibility that a
competing idea, if it is more socially or politically expedient at
a given time, will triumph on those grounds alone. No single issue
is enough to bring someone around to conservatism from liberalism
or apathy; a person’s entire way of thinking must be challenged and
realigned, so that the premises on which his opinions are
formed—from the most trivial to the most consequential—are
grounded in a single cohesive moral and political philosophy.
It is simple to convince someone who already subscribes to the
conservative philosophy of the merit of some political issue using
a utilitarian argument. Because both parties already agree on the
basic moral premise on which the question rests, it is likely that
both will come to the same conclusion. When there is disagreement
on the most fundamental of moral and philosophical premises,
however, it becomes far less likely that a utilitarian argument
will be enough to change a person’s mind about an issue of public
policy. The surest and most effective way to change people’s minds
on current political issues is by bypassing discussion of specific
legislation and instead working to modify their philosophical basis
for decision-making. In this sense, using philosophical arguments
seems like a far more practical route to furthering the
conservative movement; it hardly seems pragmatic to use pragmatic
arguments.
When decisions are made on the basis of economic and social
expediency, the long-term consequences are ignored and the moral
ramifications are forgotten altogether. Although there have been
countless opportunities throughout recent history for us to realize
it, the housing crisis brought most forcefully to mind the fact
that oftentimes legislation meant to help people actually does far
more harm to them—and to the whole country—in the end. Sometimes
this is purely accidental; at other times it seems that politicians
simply don’t care what happens in the long term, as long as a
policy is popular in the short term.
For example, the legislation that played a part in kindling the
housing crisis, the Community Reinvestment Act, required banks to
lend to people who had been “discriminated against” by normal
lending criteria. These people, the law’s proponents said, had a
“right” to own a home. Even some legislators and commentators who
consider themselves conservatives signed on, accepting the
pragmatic argument that increased home ownership would lead to
greater social stability. This is a classic example of a political
issue that should have been set aside for a time in order to comb
through the many philosophical questions involved.
In this case, a discussion of individual rights requires an
examination of the rights of all parties involved. By what right
should any person—poor, rich, or in between—be able to demand
that the wealth of another, no matter how much or little he
possesses, be lent to him if that person is unwilling? Another
topic for discussion might be the constitutional limitations on our
government. Is it the proper function of government to ensure that
people who are unlikely to be able to repay a loan should receive
one anyway? A discussion of the merits of laissez-faire capitalism
would be another great place to start. Can a handful of legislators
do a better job of planning the economy than a multitude of
individuals, all acting in their own self-interest? Or should the
invisible hand of the market be allowed to work freely? There are
no quick answers to any of these questions; they all require
lengthy discussion and reflection. But when these questions are
addressed objectively by both sides, the chance that one person
could affect another’s understanding of the philosophy he uses to
make individual policy decisions increases dramatically.
UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE is another example. Most people hold the
good health and well-being of their fellow citizens as a noble goal
to be pursued, and few would argue with the proposition that health
insurance for everyone who wants it would be a terrific step for
society. But when principle is bypassed for the sake of social and
political expediency, it is easy for the wrong solution to be
prescribed. One larger question that comes to mind involves
economic incentives and the inefficiency of government involvement
in any industry—let alone one as important as the medical
industry. Does one man have a duty to pay for the health care of
another man and his family if the latter cannot afford it himself?
Should the government have the power to require that people
purchase health insurance even if they don’t want to?
The Second Amendment and the right to bear arms bring up many
interesting questions. Everyone can agree that injuries and deaths
involving firearms are tragic no matter the circumstances. However,
the best method for reducing, or indeed eliminating, these
tragedies—as well as gun-related crime—is not nearly as widely
agreed upon. An expedient answer to this problem would be to ban
guns altogether, but those opposed argue that gun rights are
constitutionally protected. One question could relate to correct
and incorrect interpretations of the Bill of Rights. The purpose of
the Second Amendment, both now and when it was originally written,
is another interesting topic to discuss. The question of safety is
also relevant, and the balancing act between being as free as
possible and being as safe as possible.
There are no easy answers to any of these questions; they all
require significant commitments of time, thought, and effort, and
even so some still might remain unanswered. But addressing such
philosophical questions is not beyond the American people; they
are, on average, fully capable of using reason and morality to draw
conclusions and make decisions, for they do it every day. Just
because a person hasn’t taken a course in political theory, social
philosophy, or advanced economics doesn’t mean he isn’t able to
grasp the ideas. More often than not, people appreciate being
challenged, especially on ideas that relate to their own lives.
THERE IS A FACTION within the modern conservative movement,
however, that seeks to dumb down the ideas of conservatism to the
lowest common denominator. Some seem to believe that a
non-intellectual approach to disseminating conservative ideas is
the best way to gain as many followers as possible. Initially it
might seem like a good idea to come across as unassuming and
plain-spoken, to appeal to the “common man.” In the process,
though, the ideas on which conservative philosophy are based are
lost, and the only thing that remains is just how average you think
your interlocutors are. Most conservatives, in fact most people,
aren’t nearly as simpleminded as some believe. They can reason
through philosophical ideas and draw from them principled
conclusions about questions pertaining to the proper functions of
government and economic policy. Furthermore, this dumbing down of
conservatism runs the grave risk of alienating conservatives and
non-conservatives alike.
The communication of conservatism requires individuals who are
staunchly committed not only to learning the pros and cons of
specific public policy issues or the platforms of candidates or
political parties, but also to developing a deep understanding of
the philosophical grounds of conservatism. Unfortunately, filling
one’s head with facts and statistics that can be quickly rattled
off will do far less to convince others than helping them learn
and, in turn, develop that same understanding of the philosophical
grounds of conservatism.
It is far easier for a conservative to challenge the stance of
another about specific legislation than it is to challenge his
entire political philosophy. By the same token, it is also easier
for a person of some other political orientation to challenge the
stance of a conservative than it would be to challenge his entire
political philosophy. It might seem, then, that both sides are on
equal footing in this battle of ideas, but I would move that the
philosophical core of conservatism is stronger and more certain
than that of any other political movement, and that conservatives
are a tenacious and committed group of citizens, ready not only to
wage this intellectual battle, but to win it.
The cultivation of principled, rather than expedient,
conservatism is not an idealistic pipe dream. It is a realistic
goal that manages to be both principled and pragmatic at the same
time. In our effort to appeal to potential conservatives, we cannot
lose the moral grounding that underpins conservative philosophy,
and we cannot rest on the assertion that our economic policy is
better because it “just works” or that our social policy is
superior because it is less unfair. We must remain cognizant of the
moral roots of our beliefs, and we must work diligently to educate
others about those ideas. This approach requires far more diligence
than other approaches—it is more in-depth and more time-consuming
than a quick explanation of any given political issue—but its
costs are far from prohibitive. In fact, failing to ground
conservatism in its moral and philosophical foundations might prove
to be the most cost-prohibitive approach to furthering the
conservative movement that one could take.
