The Home of American Intellectual Conservatism — First Principles

September 09, 2010

JOURNAL ARCHIVE
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Why I Am a Conservative: Mark T. Mitchell
Mark T. Mitchell (from MA 49:3, Summer 2007) - 09/29/08

The need for teachers points out another important aspect of conservatism, for in acknowledging our need for others we come to acknowledge our own limitations and the various ways we are dependent. We can best begin to grasp this point when we recall that a central premise underlying the modern project is the belief that humanity, as a whole, is progressing—perhaps haltingly, but nevertheless inevitably—toward a state of perfection. This view, of course, denies any notion of fundamental imperfection or (gasp) original sin, and marches onward with an optimism born of the scientific age but, one would think, severely chastened by the moral and political fallout of that same age. But mental habits die hard, and even in our own day where the optimism has, in some quarters, cooled and is now seasoned with a heavy sprinkling of cynicism and even some nihilism, many still dream of a perfect world, a world that is the product of human beings finally rising above their pettiness and strife to forge a world of peace and plenty. Fine notions these. But a political vision that ignores or denies a fundamental fact about human nature will invariably tend not toward perfection but disarray.

The human race is bounded by limitations inherent in human nature, but we are continually faced with the temptation to deny this fundamental reality. It is, though, essential that we admit our various dependencies. This notion rubs hard against those who revel in the myth of the self-made man standing alone and triumphant, master of himself and beholden to no person. But dependence is a necessary part of human existence, and to acknowledge this is an important step on the road to wisdom. Our dependence is most obvious in our infancy and childhood where we would quite simply die without the care of others. The same kind of dependence finds us on the far side of life as our strength wanes. But there are other kinds of dependence. From time immemorial humans have grasped the simple truth that it is not good for man to be alone. It is not, we might say, possible for humans to approximate in solitude the good that is proper to them. We need others if we are to be what we are supposed to be. Humans are, for example, creatures of language. We desire to speak and to be spoken to. The exchange that language makes possible requires others to both speak and listen. Even the so-called self-made man, who has prospered in the economic realm must admit that markets are cooperative ventures that require both buyer and sellers. The seller of goods must appeal to the prospective buyer and, in that appeal, he exhibits his dependency on others.

Most profoundly, we should acknowledge our ontological contingency. On this score, there are really only two alternatives. That is, on a rather grand scale, if humans are merely the result of a naturalistic evolutionary march, then we are not the product of any intelligent will and as a result we can take credit for what we are individually and as a species, for it makes little sense to share the credit with chance and time. If naturalism is true, and humanity is marching upward out of the benighted past toward a bright and happy future, there is precious little need or incentive to be grateful to those who have preceded us. At best our ancestors were mere stepping-stones, necessary for getting us where we are now but certainly not our equals much less our superiors. We can appreciate them as instruments necessary for our present condition not as intrinsically good or wise or noble, for these concepts, themselves, are developing steadily and the present is the fullest realization of these ideals even as the future promises to make our own efforts obsolete.

But, on the other hand, perhaps human beings are the products of a divine intelligence who created humans with a specific nature and implanted in us the desire to know and a capacity to grasp reality and an awareness of certain binding moral truths. In such a scheme, we also see the debt we owe to our ancestors who, in the ways that matter, were our equals, and some were clearly our superiors. In this latter scenario, we find ourselves beholden both to a God who created and sustains us and to our predecessors who have bequeathed to us the gift of civilization with all its many-faceted elements. This realization should move us to gratitude.

José Ortega y Gasset has pointed out that modern man lacks a sense of gratitude, for he has no sense of the giftedness of that which he enjoys. The benefits of civilization, so long in their development, bought at such a high price, are taken for granted by those who have no concern for or interest in the past. If we ignore the past, if we fail to grasp the invaluable and delicate gift we have received, then civilization itself is in jeopardy. In short, our sense of indebtedness should induce in us a sense of gratitude and our gratitude should give birth to love and our love will manifest itself in responsible action.

And how will this responsibility, born of love, manifest itself? A love of God will create in us a desire to obey the moral law instilled in us. We will seek to obey His commands, summarized quite simply as this: Love God and love others. But this love for others is not limited simply to loving those who happen to be alive. We can and should love those who have come before us. We can love them for the example they have set (both good and bad); we can love them as fellow travelers on this road of beauty and pain; and we can love them even as we love ourselves, for, as T. S. Eliot notes, we are what we are because they were what they were.

A proper love of the past induces both a love for the present as well as a sense of duty to the future. In truth, both the conservative and the progressive are mindful of the future (and rightly so), but because the progressive scorns the past, he rejects that which would both inform and temper his view of the future. He purports to march boldly into the future armed only with the blinding light of pure reason and the belief that he, being the most modern, is the most advanced, and being the most advanced is fully equipped to conquer the future. The conservative, on the other hand, feels a great degree of affection for the past and recognizes the debt he owes to those he can never thank. He recognizes that many of the best human things have been cultivated gently and passed down through many generations.

It is, the conservative recognizes, his sacred duty to tend the gifts of civilization as best he can and transmit them to his posterity with the hope that generations hence will enjoy the benefits of this gift even as they, in turn, feel the burden of its responsibility. In short, a proper love for the future requires a proper love for the past, and to love the future but disdain the past is to destroy the future with carelessness, ineptitude, and pride. Furthermore, ostensibly loving the future while despising the past is, in reality, only an exercise in loving the present, for such a love is without historical context and therefore is only a facile love of the self with a vague hope that the self will survive to witness that perfect future that haunts the progressive imagination.

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