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Not Your Grandfather's Conservatism

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September 2014

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COMMENTS

Why I’m Not a Neoreactionary

Written by Posted in Uncategorized

I was going to kick off this post with all manner of unkind caricatures of my fellow travellers on the Right. Was going to call them all sorts of names: D&D nerds, Quixotes, hipsters, crypto-libertarians. The works. But then I decided trafficking in such obvious hyperboles for the shock value of it was beneath my dignity as a contributor to an august and venerable publication like Social Matter. And besides, even though I’m relatively new to the scene and I haven’t exactly made it through the canon, the neoreactionaries I’ve interacted with are to a man good guys. It turns out that we see eye-to-eye on a lot of issues, which was surprising. I’m a stubborn, contrarian Southern Baptist, and I’m not used to finding myself in agreement of any sort with folks from the smart set.

Even without name-calling and cheapshots, though, there are some points where the neoreactionaries and I diverge. And one I’ve just alluded to. One point is that neoreaction isn’t exactly friendly towards us Protestants, unrepentant ultra-Calvinists that we are. In fact, they’ve arrayed all sorts of historical and theological arguments against us, some pretty convincing, that we are implicated in this giant egalitarian mess that is modern progressive governance. These arguments occasionally needle me, but I say to myself, “Fair enough.” I don’t look back on that Unpleasantness in the 16th century with any sort of relish myself. I wish we’d all stayed under the same roof—ideally one steepled gracefully over vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows.

A second, related point of divergence is more serious, though. I think the neoreactionary critique has a tendency to overrate the importance of the history of lofty ideas and to underrate the importance of changing conditions on the ground. You see this in their condemnations of Protestantism, as well as their much more pointed antipathy to democracy as a political theory. I mean I hate contemporary American governance as much as the next guy. I think our country is a bloated, bureaucratic, centrally-administered monstrosity, one that a surfeit of corn-syrup-fed, TV-raised headcases stumble around in, tragically enfranchised. But I don’t see its current manifestation as a straight shot by any means from our “founding principles,” even admitting that the fathers probably let Jefferson squeeze more French radicalism into the Declaration of Independence that they ought to have.

A lot has happened since 1776, and I don’t think all, or even most, of what has happened in America has been driven by ideology of any sort. Rather its been driven by a whole host of more mundane processes. For instance, there has been the gradual urbanization of America. And there has been a massive explosion in population as well. These trends weren’t caused by our shared worldview, but they certainly caused our shared worldviews to change. There has been the steady march of technology, as well, and the nationwide mobility that such technology supports, and the erosion of community life that naturally follows such mobility. (Much of what we call “atomization” is a direct consequence of a nationally mobile middle class whose daughters and sons move hither and yon across the country for good portions of their adult lives, chasing education and then employment.) Contraception would be another example of a technological innovation with tremendous downstream effects. As would digital data storage. Furthermore, there have been wars both at home and abroad that have turned our national fortunes in unpredictable ways. There is also economic history to be interrogated, even though I’m not particularly qualified to do so. But needless to say the banking and financial interests that now exert such influence over our politicians got there in spite of the man on the street, not because of his warm affections. Even landmark cultural shifts that happened through established political channels, such as the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, seem to be more the work of political elites than popular sentiment. To blame these sorts of things on suffrage seems to me to be accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

We could go on. All the aforegoing seem to make a paltry list. I’m sure you could brainstorm on your own some rumblings in this sublunary realm that have produced ramifications as significant as those engendered by the creeping egalitarianism inherent in the truths we hold to be “self-evident,” by the moral fanaticism ascribed to our Puritanical roots. That’s the point. The point is that etiology on this scale is incredibly complex. When you’re talking about an arc as gigantic as the rise and fall of a civilization, you’re necessarily talking about a boggling mass of factors, trends, events. And, while, yes, ideas matter, I have a hard time believing they matter that much. I have a hard time believing they’ve steered us steadily to where we are today. That they’re the most important entities to blame.

And this leads me to what is perhaps my only legitimate complaint against neoreaction proper, the one imprecation I’d hurl at my otherwise agreeable (and totally unsuspecting) colleagues. My complaint is that neoreaction is at bottom an intellectual critique, whereas I’m interested in a concrete resistance. I can see the appeal in understanding the precise social mechanisms that made Western civilization great, but I would prefer to devote more energy to halting the dispossession of flesh-and-blood Westerners in their own countries. I can see the appeal in puzzling out with exactitude the pathologies that afflict the minds of our elite, but I would prefer to puzzle out ways to run them out of town. And we can amuse ourselves with the metaphysical fineries then.

This is, of course, why I continue to style myself as a conservative rather than a reactionary or a neoreactionary or, hell, a Southern traditionalist. I know that conservatism in the mainstream is an embarrassment and conservatism in the abstract is more of an attitude towards novelty than a coherent and standalone philosophy. It’s not an ideological move but a tactical one. As democratic as this sounds, I believe the means to resist an overreaching government are out there, distributed among the people: different types of expertise, organizational skills, existing networks of affiliation, armaments if necessary, manpower. And I think a majority of those people have always and probably will always consider themselves conservatives, as a sort of demonym. So I don’t see the point in renouncing their tribal name. The gains in philosophical accuracy aren’t worth the loss of personal relatability. We need these people in our camp. We need to be in theirs.

Maybe these ramblings might seem like an odd entry for an otherwise Rotherham-dominated week. But in a way this post is Rotherham-inspired. I don’t know for certain of course, but it seems to me that we’re reaching new levels of criminal malfeasance by the powers that be in Europe and America. If we’re not being thrown to the wolves outright, we are at least being to left to our own devices against them. And while I think that much of the critiques from our quarter are compelling and cogent and necessary, I think it would be advisable to start making more practical steps towards bracing for impact as well.

20 Comments

  1. somebody
    • Chew on this
  2. slumlord
  3. David Grant
    • Mike
      • David Grant
  4. Gordian
  5. Hubert Collins

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