I’ve long been drawn to libertarian and classical liberal ideas, especially when it comes to specific policy issues. Arguments about limiting the scope of government, defending private property, and encouraging a free marketplace resonate with me. Yet for all my sympathies with libertarian philosophy and politics, I ultimately consider myself a conservative, not a libertarian or classical liberal.
Why is that? It’s partly because certain tendencies within libertarian and classical liberal circles turn me off. Libertarians can seem too dogmatically focused on rights. They zero in on the notion of coercion and whether it is violating people’s supposed entitlements and often have a knee-jerk reaction against nearly any proactive action undertaken by government. Classical liberals, meanwhile, often appear preoccupied with maintaining respectability in the eyes of the elite progressive intelligentsia, sometimes at the expense of their liberal principles. They are too focused on status, and not enough on outcomes.
Both wings of libertarianism can take too optimistic a view of human nature. They tend to assume that if individuals are simply left alone, social order and prosperity will naturally emerge. But without strong institutions, mature culture, and sometimes even a degree of paternalism, societies can easily slip into disorder and decay. A more sober view of human fallibility, and the need for structures to guide and restrain it, is at the heart of why I ultimately identify as a conservative.
Arnold Kling’s Three-Axis Model
My way of seeing things aligns well with economist Arnold Kling’s “Three-Axis Model” of politics. Kling argues that different political camps conceive of the world according to distinct, central conflicts:
Progressives: Oppressor vs. Oppressed
Libertarians: Freedom vs. Coercion
Conservatives: Civilization vs. Barbarism
Progressives tend to see conflicts primarily as struggles between oppressors and the oppressed; libertarians focus on the tension between freedom and coercion; and conservatives see the core battle as one between civilization and barbarism. These axes help explain why different groups often talk past one another. Each prioritizes a different moral dimension and evaluates events and policies according to distinct standards of virtue and threat.
For me, the civilization vs. barbarism axis is the most compelling. Harmful forces continually threaten civilization through the erosion of social norms and weakening of institutions. Poorly managed immigration can be a cause of these problems, but it is far from the only force that threatens culture and trust, the bedrock forces that underpin a healthy, flourishing society. The greatest threat to civilization does not come from any outside barbarians. Rather, it lies with the intellectuals who feel eternally compelled to redesign society from the top down.
The Enemies of Civilization
Many intellectuals are driven by the belief that much of society’s fundamental architecture is unjustified in strictly rational terms. From their perspective, we should remake social institutions and traditions, because such practices seem arbitrary or archaic to them. Correcting what they see as injustices might be understandable on its face. But in my view, their blind spots run deeper.
Their inability—or refusal—to accept certain powerful and at times obvious truths, whether due to social conventions or personal insecurity, can be profound. Perhaps denial is a universal human trait, but not everyone aspires to re-engineer society on a grand scale. The sad irony is that while we need intellectuals to spur progress, such as through advancements in science and technology, they can’t be permitted to wield unbounded power. If they manage to centralize too much control, the results will be catastrophic for the civilized world.
This is why I remain deeply skeptical of elites in general. It is also why I believe checks, balances, and accountability measures are essential to good governance. Due process—and procedural safeguards more broadly—are the best tools we have to constrain intellectual overreach.
Human fallibility is universal, and no clique of “experts” should be able to impose its sweeping vision on the rest of us without restraint. If institutions are working fairly well in society, the burden of proof should always be on those who want to overthrow the established way of doing things. Without a strong justification for action, any intervention can easily make things far worse.
Conservatism vs. Progress?
Society faces an eternal dilemma. We need intellectuals to spur progress, yet we can’t trust them with too much power lest they threaten our fragile social order. A workable resolution to this tension exists, at least in theory. Through constitutional checks and balances, formal written laws, informal social norms, and robust civil society institutions, we can safeguard against their abuses. Meanwhile, intellectuals can remain free to generate ideas, innovate, and advocate for improvements, albeit from a distance from power.
The crucial role of conservatives is to design and preserve guardrails so that the destructive excesses of intellectuals are kept in check. Thus, conservatives serve a vital function placing a brake on the more utopian schemes that emerge when ambitious minds decide they must reorder the entire world. This battle is waged not just in government, but in educational institutions, social media, and corporate boardrooms, wherever power is concentrated.
However, the conservative role is not purely defensive. I see myself as a reformer as much as a defender, and I believe there is an important and active role for conservatives to promote continual improvements and changes at the margins.
Additionally, conservatives themselves must also be careful because their worldview is also subject to excesses. Their aim should not be to bury intellectual creativity but to temper it with realism, and to channel that energy in constructive ways that support, rather than undermine, progress and growth.
Conclusion
Though my policy instincts are often libertarian or classically liberal, I find myself returning time and again to a fundamentally conservative viewpoint. The dangers posed by uncivilized ideas and people run throughout society, including among its intellectual elites. The surest defense against this threat lies in maintaining a strong moral and civic social fabric supported by durable and well-crafted institutions.
That is why I call myself a conservative. I accept that there are real divisions between the civilizing and destructive forces in our world, and I trust in some of the traditions and frameworks we’ve inherited to keep us from plunging back into chaos. There is a time and a place for overthrowing the existing order, and for abolishing traditions whose time has passed or that never made sense in the first place. But the burden of proof lies on those who seek radical change to justify why it is necessary and how their reforms will make things better.
It’s sometimes thought that conservatism is at odds with progress, and there is some truth in that. Conservatives naturally resist radical upheaval and revolutionary proposals. However, a true conservative also recognizes when the time has come to pick up arms and resist tyranny. More often, though, the challenge is quieter. It involves defending the slow, cumulative achievements of civilization against reckless attempts to tear them down. Conservatism, at its best, advances progress not by overthrowing the past, but by building carefully upon it. That may not sound as sexy or as noble as a revolution, but the results can be revolutionary nonetheless in terms of ushering in progress and radical change. This, in its own way, is a distinctly conservative vision of utopia. Progress is achieved not through upheaval, but through patient stewardship.
Well put.
I hesitate to call myself a conservative because the word has too much baggage in mixed company to be useful without careful elaboration and nuance, just as the term "libertarian" seems to.
I personally resonate with every proposition George Will offered in his book, "The Conservative Sensibility." I cannot recall any bone of contention, if there was one. Perhaps that means I am a conservative. Still, I tell people I am a classical liberal, mostly because the term does not carry so much baggage. Most people have little preconceived notions about the term "classical liberal," if they know what it means at all.
Chesterton would feel confident that, with you as a neighbor, his fence would be safe. I know I would very likely enjoy you as a neighbor as well...