“Conservatives recognize that in civilization they have inherited something precious. It is a gift not to be taken for granted. So, too, is the natural world. The giftedness of creation itself calls us to gratitude.”

Like many Americans, I was raised with what might be called an instinctive conservative ethos. The conservatism with which I was raised was largely unreflective and habitual (good conservative traits these!) and it was tied, I suspect, to a variety of factors including grandparents who were economically independent (one a small business owner and the other a cattle rancher); parents who were generally suspicious of big government (although my father worked for the government his entire career); and regular involvement, at least for the majority of my childhood, in the church. Add to this plenty of guns in the house and an affection for John Wayne and, well, looking back it seems that the die was cast early on.

Instinctive conservatism is a good and necessary part of the ideals of conservatism, but for those of us called to a life of teaching and writing, reflection on those things that many take for granted is part of the territory. Thus, in what follows, I want to explore some of the reasons I am still a conservative after spending time reflecting on exactly what that means.

At the outset, though, I need to clarify a point: the word “conservative” has fallen on hard times of late. Ironically this has been, at least in part, due to the success of the word and that which it represents. “Conservative” has come to serve as a sort of shorthand way of identifying those ideas that generally comport with the Republican party in America. This is unfortunate for two reasons. First, the views of a party can, and invariably do, change. Thus, to the extent that the Republican party has changed it has dragged the term “conservative” with it, to the detriment of any clear meaning of the word. Second, the term “conservative” is surely one that suggests political positions and perhaps even specific policies, but to reduce the term merely to its political components is to rob it of its vital core. Thus, right at the beginning of this attempt to explain why I am a conservative, I must insist that “conservative” is not identical with the Republican party and in many ways the two are today not even playing from the same sheet of music. While political prescriptions are certainly a part of conservatism, I want to focus my attention on elements that are prior to public policy, for the policy is merely an outworking of the soul of the idea, and to grasp the essence of conservatism it is necessary, for the time being, to set policy aside. Finally, the subsequent ingredients constitute at least a part of a reflective conservative ethos, but they are not individually the exclusive property of conservatism. They do, I will maintain, represent the core of conservatism and, while people who refuse to call themselves conservatives will embrace various elements, it is my contention that conservatism rightly conceived will best accommodate the totality of these aspects in a coherent and meaningful whole. With these qualifications in place, let us proceed.

One important aspect of conservatism is the recognition that there is something worth conserving and this must be transmitted through human conduits. In other words, teachers are necessary. For academics, our teachers are often books written long ago by authors long dead. These marvels of communication, where visual symbols embody ideas that can move the reader to action or laughter or tears, are central to civilization, and it is, after all, civilization, in large part, that we are speaking of when we speak of conservation. But just as we required a teacher to show us how to decipher the language symbols, so too it is good to have a teacher who, by example, shows us how to approach a text, and ultimately, how to approach the life of the mind. During my time at Georgetown University, I was fortunate enough to have that sort of teacher in George W. Carey. A generous mentor is a good gift not to be taken for granted, and I am grateful for his kindness, patience, and wisdom.