Lifestyle conservatism

Of course, there will always be people like Daniel Larison who, while generally supportive of limited government, narrow their eyes with suspicion and crack their knuckles in preparation for long, vehement blog posts at any suggestion that Christianity and libertarianism ought to make nice and hold hands.

In Larison’s most recent pro-Crunchy polemic, he makes the case, once again, against those who would deride the paleo-crunchy emphasis on duty, obligation, tradition, and community, arguing that these—not economic policies or other stands on government action—are the most important elements of conservatism. And in some sense, he’s convincing. There is a general feeling these days that conservatism has drifted away from principle and defining ideology and toward rather narrow policy prescriptions. I suspect there’s some truth to this, but it may also simply be a matter of inexplicable mood, of circumstance, and, for me, of my magnifying-glass view of the Beltway scene that amplifies local sentiments.

But Larison wants to do more to conservatism than restore its principled approach to government. He wants us to see it as a way of life. For that I give him credit; where most folks are content to take the bus into town alone, Larison wants to rocket to the moon and take the entire conservative movement with him. Presumably, once we’re there, we’ll set up a Catholic-run organic farm community and devote lots of time to slow-cooking moon-pies and rocking, zero-G style, on our lunar porches. And there will be government there; good, ordered government, no matter what that nutty Heinlein guy thought.

Larison’s idea is compelling, of course, for those of us who’d like to think that true conservatives aren’t just folks with similar views of government, but also with strong dedication to certain tenets of how to prioritize one’s daily existence. After all, it’s nice to think that your particular political ideology isn’t just a good way of running government, but also a good way of being a person. Larison would have us turn conservatism into String Theory for living: a sort of unified theory of everything, government, church, family, and individual. But like that theory, a much sought but unproven idea that relies on vague notions of truth and beauty with little regard to anything else, Larison’s lifestyle conservatism requires a lot of its proponents, and may, in the end, attempt to be more sweeping than is possible.

The dichotomy he presents us with is tough: Is conservatism a way to be, or is it a way of letting people be? As much as I have sympathies for the former, I tend to think it’s more of the latter—the best way to let others have their way while staying out of mine. Larison thinks otherwise. This may be due to a conflation of religious and political instincts, or it may be a result of belief that good order genuinely provides better lives for people than self-motivated spontaneous organization. Probably some of both. Either way, it seems to me that this—the battle between conservatism as way of life and conservatism strictly as political guide—will, more than any particular policy battle, be the defining struggle for the right over the coming years.