When people ask me about where my conservative beliefs come from, I can give them many rational reasons that I mostly reverse-engineered. But the truth is that my first political influence was my father.
My dad worked as a prison guard for 30 years in Hagerstown, Maryland. That’s right. He literally went to jail for three decades so that I could get paid to write about politics. Talk about a sacrifice.
Coming from a blue collar background had its downsides, but it has also given me valuable perspective. Few of my colleagues have a background as rural or as conservative as mine.
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Aside from my dad’s influence (he took me to the polls when he voted for Ronald Reagan in 1980), I was a Republican because I was pro-life. I was a Republican because I believed in a strong national defense (keep in mind that Soviets had nukes pointed at us at this time). And I was a Republican because I believed in personal freedom.
I’m middle aged now, and the Republican Party has changed. So you might be wondering why I still identify as a conservative Republican.
Two words: The Democrats.
It’s no secret that I have problems with Republicans. As P.J. O’Rourke used to joke, “Republicans say government doesn’t work and then they get elected and prove it.”
Anyone who watched Republicans try to elect a new Speaker of the House last month knows just how dysfunctional they can be.
But deep down, I’m a conservative Republican for the same reasons my dad was, even if he only intuited them.
To understand the fundamental difference between the parties is to understand the difference between Edmund Burke’s philosophy and one espoused by the likes of Thomas Paine and (one of the philosophers who inspired him) Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
Burke believed western civilization was something of a miracle that had slowly evolved over time. His version of conservatism stressed being grateful and giving thanks for the institutions we have.
Tweaking and improving things is commendable, but we shouldn’t stress the system too much. And we certainly shouldn’t attempt to overturn society via revolution.
Burke also believed in original sin, which G.K. Chesterton said was the only part of Christian theology that could “be proved.” As the father of two sons, I concur. It’s impossible to raise kids and not realize we are born to be bad. That’s the whole point of civilization… to civilize us.
Not everyone gets this. Unlike Burke—Paine and Rousseau believed that man started out pure and metastasized over time as civilization corrupted us.
Taken to its logical conclusions, this philosophy led to a utopian belief in the perfectibility of man. All you had to do was tear down the artificial structures of society and ride off into the sunlit uplands of history.
In too many horrific historical examples, this naive belief has been tried and has failed.
This may sound esoteric, but these two opposing worldviews are still deeply embedded in our two great political philosophies.
Consider, for example, the ambitious goal to end income inequality espoused by the Democrats.
I happen to believe that income inequality is a problem—when it grows too large. But this is primarily because envy is a sin we cannot eliminate.
Still, I’d rather have a country with unequal amounts of wealth than a country where we have even amounts of poverty (where almost everyone except the elites is poor).
The real goal should be to make everyone richer, not to make rich people poorer.
Unfortunately, Democrats tend to believe in a zero sum fallacy. In their minds, wealth is like a pizza; if you and I get too many slices, there won’t be enough left for them.
Rather than focusing on growth and opportunity, they think about equality or “equity.” That’s just another way to justify raising taxes on a subset of people to spread the wealth around.
Look no further than that classic Simpsons episode when Grandpa Simpson starts receiving random checks in the mail. When Bart finally asks him, “Didn’t you wonder why you were getting checks for doing absolutely nothing?”—he replied, “I just figured the Democrats were back in power again.”
Well, America has replaced Grandpa Simpson with Grandpa Biden. And instead of receiving the checks, he sent them out.
Partly as a result, young Americans are facing an economic situation where buying a home—the thing that used to be considered the fulfillment of the American dream—now seems impossible thanks to skyrocketing interest rates.
Likewise, the left’s embrace of woke ideology is a disqualifier. Unlike a hierarchy formed along class lines, this hierarchy is based on the perception of where you fall on the oppression scale.
Call it the oppression olympics. The more oppressed you are, the more intersectional your oppression is—which equates to a higher ranking. This is one of the reasons why so many college students are embracing Hamas over Israel.
My goal isn’t to conflate the radical left with mainstream Democrats. But sometimes it seems that the only thing separating the two is one old man named Joe Biden, and he won’t be around forever.
If the media can blame Republicans for those idiots marching around Charlottesville with tiki torches, it seems only fair to point out that these particular problems I’m discussing are disproportionately coming from the Democratic side of the partisan divide.
Again, I’m not claiming that my “side” is perfect. God knows the Republicans have problems. Anyone who has read my columns knows that I’m not above criticizing my party—especially our (unfortunate) standard bearer.
But why should I let newcomers push me out of my own party or my movement? I’m reminded of the movie Office Space, where someone asks the Michael Bolton character why he doesn’t start going by “Mike,” if he doesn’t like having the same name as the famous singer. “Why should I change?” he asks. “He's the one who sucks.”
I feel the same way about Donald Trump. If it were up to me, Nikki Haley would be the Republican nominee for president. For one thing, she has the best chance of anybody to beat Joe Biden. For another, she strikes me as the most sane person running for president. And these days, that’s probably about as good as it gets.
In lieu of Haley, I may just have to spend the next four years day-drinking—not unlike the last eight years or so.
While Haley has a shot, I would characterize it as a long shot. And based on this, you might wonder why I still consider myself a conservative Republican.
I think I’ve already made the case why Democrats are not a viable alternative. But why continue to affiliate with my old team?
These parties—to the extent that they represent the two great ideological traditions I discussed earlier—are expected to fulfill certain vital roles.
Progressives in the Democratic Party are supposed to push for radical changes. To paraphrase a line from the movie Thank You for Smoking, Michael Jordan plays ball. Charles Manson kills people. And Democrats agitate for radical change. Everyone has a talent.
If we were to use the analogy of a car—as conservative writer Jonah Goldberg does—the Democrat’s foot is always on the gas pedal.
This holds true even if we are about to hit a huge bump in the road. This holds true even if we have blown past our destination by a hundred miles with the check engine light on and the gas gauge on empty.
Conservative Republicans are there to pump the brakes and ensure the speed limit is being followed. We keep Democrats from picking up too many weirdo hitchhikers along the way.
We give the engine a rest, so it can cool down and prevent Democrats from driving the car off the cliff entirely.
It’s not a perfect analogy, but I think you get the picture.
Democrats will always agitate for more change. We need a political party that encourages restraint for our governmental ambition.
We need a party that stands up for the constitution. If conservative Republicans aren’t doing it, nobody will.
The only way we can really make America great again is for Republicans to get back to fulfilling their Burkean role.
Simply put, we need a sane center-right party. And that won’t happen if sane people flee the GOP.