Rethinking Conservatism in the 21st Century: Or Stepping Twice into the Same River
The central purpose of this essay is to revisit the concept of political conservatism in 21st century America. In so doing, I intend to consider anew both the origins of the doctrine as well as the sort of obtuse obstructionism into which it has slowly devolved in the centuries since its initial and eloquent expression by 18th century British statesman Edmund Burke (in whose 1790 Reflections on the Revolution in France we see the core principles of the philosophy first consciously and coherently espoused). But before examining the essence and the evolution of conservative ideology, I would ask the reader to permit me a brief philosophical digression on the inevitability of change, as it is this fundamental principle of reality with which the contemporary conservative seems most obstinately at odds. (I am reminded of the time late-night pundit Stephen Colbert, when in mock defense of status quo conservatism, satirically accused reality of having “a well-known liberal bias.” Political and comedic though his point may have been, the principles of both logic and physics suggest that he may have been more right than he realized, as I hope and trust this momentary digression will demonstrate.)
The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus once famously quipped that “one cannot step into the same river twice.” The obvious implication is that if its waters are forever flowing, then no river ever exists in a static state. Therefore, while we may step into its depths on more than one occasion, those waters will not be the same as before, and thus our experience will necessarily differ. Of course, one could easily broaden this concept of constant change to encompass the individual as well. Because we human beings are largely water in motion (our cells continually dividing and dying), we, too, materially differ from moment to moment. Thus, even were the river to remain the same, we ourselves would not. (As one ancient commentator put it: “We both step and do not step in the same rivers. We are and are not.”) But as Daniel Graham explains, Heraclitus’ central premise:
“is not that all things are changing so that we cannot encounter them twice, but something much more subtle and profound. It is that some things stay the same only by changing. One kind of long-lasting material reality exists by virtue of constant turnover in its constituent matter. Here constancy and change are not opposed but inextricably connected.”
And so while both we and the river remain forever in flux, we also remain in an equally real sense forever fixed. It is only when we cease to change that we then cease to exist.
What has any of this to do with the concept of conservatism, you may ask. Well, when one examines the current state of political conservatism in America, one is confronted time and again with the (apparently ingrained) ideology of originalist obstructionism, wherein the Constitution and other extant laws are presumably perceived as analogous to the Ten Commandments: already perfectly pronounced and forever frozen in the unmalleable stone of indisputable decree. Consequently, conservatives seem to view all proposed changes to the societal status quo with the same sort of hostility and skepticism as does the dogmatist towards the recommendations of the religious reformer. When, for instance, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell recently (and rather proudly) referred to himself as the “Grim Reaper” for any and all “progressive” legislation passed by the House, he was not speaking metaphorically. (While the House has so far passed nearly 400 bills in 2019 alone, only 70 of these passed the Senate and have subsequently been signed into law.) Neither was he breaking with long-standing Senatorial tradition. In fact, the “Father of the Constitution” himself, James Madison, once said (in Federalist №62) that the Senate should serve as a bulwark against “against improper acts of legislation,” and that “the facility and excess of law-making seem to be the diseases to which our governments are most liable.” This is hardly a recipe for change.
The question I would like for us to consider is whether or not such stagnancy is, in fact, in keeping with the underlying and animating spirit of the American Constitution. For while Madison may have indeed feared the excesses of democracy, he nevertheless opened the preamble to the Constitution with the words “We the People.” What’s more, he did not claim the absolute and immediate flawlessness of the endeavor, but rather stated the more modest goal of forming “a more perfect Union.” Both of these word choices are noteworthy because they signify a conscious realization by the Framers that the Constitution (like its constituent members) was a living, breathing organism (or in this case document). To paraphrase Heraclitus: just as “We the People” will invariably change, so too will the world into which we collectively step. Our government must prove itself equally adaptable if it is to survive and continue to serve the purpose for which it was originally intended. Jefferson would later write (in 1816) in cognizant support of such a principle:
“But I know also, that laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed, more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, new truths disclosed, and manners and opinions change with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also, and keep pace with the times. We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy, as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.”
In other words, the constancy of the Constitution is not diminished or imperiled by its capacity to change. It is rather this dynamic capability to adjust to an ever-changing world that guarantees its continued relevance in our society and merits our collective reverence for the document and the underlying universalist principles it espouses. Or as Daniel Graham previously explained of Heraclitus’ philosophical maxim, “Here constancy and change are not opposed but inextricably connected.” Consequently, proposed legislative attempts to correct past injustices and which seek to extend the Constitution’s protections and freedoms to an increasingly diverse demographic should be embraced by liberal and conservative alike. For the more broadly the Constitution’s precepts are applied, the more securely they serve to safeguard us all. As John F. Kennedy once famously proclaimed, “Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free.” Or perhaps more persuasively, as the father of conservatism himself, the aforementioned Edmund Burke, once said (and in support of Conservative principles, no less):
“A man full of warm, speculative benevolence may wish his society otherwise constituted than he finds it, but a good patriot and a true politician always considers how he shall make the most of the existing materials of his country. A disposition to preserve and an ability to improve, taken together, would be my standard of a statesman. Everything else is vulgar in the conception, perilous in the execution.”
Vulgar and perilous indeed.
