Over in Democracy: A Journal of Ideas, Elbert Ventura has an excellent piece about progressives’ inability to develop a “coherent vision” – a guiding sense of history that can provide both context and narrative for progressive accomplishments and ongoing political struggles. Contrast this to the political right, which has, with relentless impetuousness, pushed a once-fringe view of American history that casts the 20th century as one big nightmare betrayal of founding principles, thus setting for itself the task of restoring the world’s largest economy to a golden age of agrarian farming.
“History is being taught – On TV and talk radio, in blogs and grassroots seminars, in high-school textbooks and on Barnes & Noble bookshelves,” writes Ventura. “In all of those forums conservatives have been conspicuous by their activity – and progressives by their absence.” (Full disclosure: Ventura is a friend and my predecessor as managing editor of ProressiveFix.com)
Perhaps, as Ventura goes on to suggest, “Part of it may be the progressive orientation – our eyes are always cast toward the next horizon, not the one behind.”
But let me toss out another possibility. Arguably, the political left lost its abiding faith in ideas by putting too much faith in ideas.
Let me explain: A previous era of liberal thought put great faith in the capacity of human rationality. But ideas led to hubris, and hubris led to overreach, and ultimately to policy failures. Lacking humility, liberals over-estimated their ability to achieve social justice ends in through top-down technocratic means. Constituencies who had been helped by the New Deal did not benefit from the Great Society, and instead grew anxious and angry.
In response, the idea of planning became socialism, which became communism. Critics repeatedly traced the facile road-to-serfdom syllogism that any attempt to improve the workings of society winds up with Stalin and Hitler.
For progressives, the lesson from the failure of 1960s idealism should have been to approach big ideas and grand narratives with a requisite caution. Instead, the lesson seemed to be abandoning big ideas altogether.
But what didn’t change for progressives was the political program. Instead, it became increasingly unmoored from a larger narrative. Lacking a grand story, progressivism increasingly decayed into a kind of interest group liberalism. A coalition once formed for a grander purpose became a tangle of single-interest groups fighting myopically to defend yesterday’s victory. Rather than being a means to the social justice ends it was designed to achieve, familiar liberal policies became ends in and of themselves.
The conservative story was different. Four decades ago, a kind of principled Burkean conservatism was a legitimate response to a genuine assessment that the Great Society had not turned out so great after all; Contra the great liberal narrative of progress through collective action, conservatism warned of the folly of grand gestures and the humility of human endeavors.
But then, in the grandest of all grand gestures, conservatism went ahead and embraced radical theories of its own — about economics, about tax cuts, about the role of government — and effectively went from simply yelling “stop!” to aggressively yelling “rewind!” Far from principled caution, conservatism took on a utopianism that put even the most liberal of 1960s liberals to shame.
That modern conservatism has not been effectively dismissed as antithetical to the traditional conservatism is truly remarkable. To quote Sam Tanenhaus, the New York Times book review editor who has proclaimed conservatism dead: “What passes for conservatism today would have been incomprehensible to its originator, Edmund Burke, who, in the late eighteenth century, set forth the principles by which governments might nurture the “organic” unity that bound a people together even in times of revolutionary upheaval.” Burke would be horrified at a Tea Party rally.
The question then becomes, why have we given conservatives a free pass on this? The answer is that it’s hard to challenge one narrative if you don’t have an alternative.
We can argue over what that progressive narrative ought to be, but let me offer up my preferred candidate: an embrace of progressivism’s relentless experimentation as a kind of philosophy in and of itself, the kind of pragmatism that FDR expressed when he famously said, “Do something. If it works, do more of it. If it doesn’t, do something else.”
Or put another way: a hopeful but humble faith that there is some rough-and-tumble thing called human progress, some long arch that does bend towards justice eventually, even if that eventually is far into the horizon. A telling of history that recognizes that there are no easy answers, only a series of hard problems that we must confront with humility. We must always strive, but never promise.
As Arthur Schlesinger Jr. wrote in the conclusion of The Vital Center: “Problems will always torment us, because all important problems are insoluble: that is why they are important. The good comes from the continuing struggle to try and solve them, not from the vain hope of their solution.” (The same sentiment can be found in the writings of the progressive theologian Reinhold Niebuhr: “Democracy is finding proximate solutions to insoluble problems.”)
To me, this is a fighting faith, and a story. That the history of America has mostly been a history of, in FDR’s words, trying things and if they work, doing more of them, and if they don’t trying something else. It’s only in recent years that politics has become more about trying things, and if they don’t work, trying them again and again and blaming circumstances or your opposition if they still don’t work. This is not a fighting faith. It’s surrendering to faith.
We need something better. Conservatives have gone overtime in re-telling American history as a mistake that must be undone. We need to tell history in a way that moves forward.
