Where we are going, and why we are going in a hand basket

In this essay, I sketch a general picture of what liberalism and conservatism mean. I use the terms "liberal" and "conservative" as ideal types, not as representatives of a particular party or form of government. My motives in doing so will become apparent.

Liberalism and conservatism have two dimensions: a political one and a moral one. Politically, liberals hold that capitalism will undermine the conditions necessary for democracy. It will lead to a society where people become alienated from each other and the people as a whole. Liberals also hold that capitalism is too efficient at distributing goods and services throughout the society. Therefore, capitalism must be subject to government regulation, with the caveat that the people trust the government to act for the common good. Liberals also hold that the government has an obligation to minimize unnecessary suffering, even if additional money must be spent in order to do so.

Morally, liberals hold that individuals must interpret for themselves whatever sources of moral authority they choose to accept. Whether this authority be the Pope, Torah, Scripture or some other source, the ideal liberal holds that the teachings must be interpreted into one's own life, as one sees fit, and not taken literally or "from on high." This moral stance has the effect of privatizing morality and making the liberal position a very political one.

Conservatives are, by and large, the converse of liberals. Politically, conservatives hold that capitalism is best if unrestrained by government regulation, and that market forces can, in effect, do no wrong. The individualism caused (however indirectly) by capitalism is actually one of the greatest parts of being an "American." Conservatives also believe, for the most part, that individuals know what is best to do with their resources, which should be conserved for private use as much as possible. Morally, conservatives hold that moral authorities ought to be taken literally, as much as possible. Biblical injunctions against, for example, homosexuality (Leviticus 18:22) cannot be re-interpreted so as to no longer apply.

I'm not particularly comfortable with such a rigid typology, but I think it works. It leaves most people either somewhere in the middle or outside the margins. Also, one can be politically liberal and morally conservative, or vice versa. I've taken my definitions from a smattering of sociology and political theory. In the political arena, however, no one seems to neatly fit the descriptions I've given above, even though many people call themselves (or are called by other people) "liberal" or "conservative."

Generalizing, therefore, I'd say that liberalism and conservatism do not exist in the real world, except as epithets hurled at one's opponents. Liberalism and conservatism were designed in the context of a world which no longer exists, and which can not exist again. That world was the world of the Enlightenment, of Europe and America prior to the Industrial Revolution. Liberalism and conservatism, in their current forms, are political theories that have become ideologies, and having become ideologies, they have lost the power to compel our assent. Neither side has a vision that moves us or which informs its policies or its leadership.

The policy debates between liberalism and conservatism are irrelevant to today's world because we confront problems that demand a deeper look at our society. We need to start asking, and probing seriously and publicly, questions like: what is the proper relation between a government and the people? Are we confronting political issues or social issues? To what extent are we trying to apply political solutions to societal problems, and vice versa? And even if we can generate a common dream, there is still the matter of how we are going to get there, and what prices we are willing to pay.

Part of our problem is that we are not dealing with a crisis restricted to the U.S. government. We are dealing with a crisis of our entire society, of the "modern world." A prominent symptom of this crisis is that all of our institutions have lost their credibility. We can no longer place any trust in our institutions to deal with our problems. (By institutions I mean the basic structures of our society: family, religious congregations, government at varying levels, education, etc.) We casually associate this symptom with "the problem of modernity" and still have no clear diagnosis, and still less idea of what paths might lead to healing and health.

At Oberlin it has become fashionable to disdain the entire line of Western political thinking from Plato to the Enlightenment - relative to which the differences between liberals and conservatives are intelligible - and try and forge a new approach. This project tends to be carried out under the aegis of Heidegger, Derrida, Foucault and their contemporaries and heirs, and it is eminently worthwhile, as far as it goes. But we should not confuse this project with a new political vision. This project is precisely the refusal to have a political vision, the refusal to have any sort of universalistic ethos.

I, for one, think that there is much in the tradition of Western political theory worth keeping. Nevertheless, we must do better than cling to ideologies which have become, in their current forms, irrelevant. The place to begin is at the beginning. This means reviving public dialogue about what kind of culture we want to live in, and what kind of people we want to participate in our political life. It is a tremendously difficult task - the history of the past two centuries shows us how fragile dialogue is, how liable it is to distortion and suppression - but if we are to avoid completely acquiescing in cultural self-destruction, then it is our best alternative.