Grok says: “James Burnham: An Intellectual Biography” by David T. Byrne (published in 2025 by Cornell University Press) is a detailed exploration of Burnham’s life and ideas, framing him as a pivotal 20th-century thinker who evolved from a Trotskyite Marxist to a hardline anticommunist conservative. The book portrays Burnham as embodying two contrasting personas: an optimistic “man of action” who believed in using power (even violence) to achieve progress, and a pessimistic realist skeptical of true democracy due to elite dominance. Drawing on archival sources, it analyzes his major works, influences (e.g., Aquinas, Marx, Trotsky, Machiavelli, Burke), and impacts on figures like George Orwell, Ronald Reagan, and modern conservatives. The narrative spans his youth to his death in 1987, emphasizing his role in Cold War strategy, the CIA, and National Review. Key themes include power struggles, elite theory, anticommunism, and critiques of liberalism.
Here’s a chapter-by-chapter overview of the main highlights:
Introduction (pp. 1-9): Introduces the “two Burnhams” (optimistic revolutionary vs. gloomy elitist). Traces his influence across the spectrum—from Orwell’s 1984 to neocons like the Kristols and paleocons like Samuel Francis (linking to Trumpism). Critiques prior biographies for focusing on one side of him.
Chapter 1: The Young Burnham (pp. 10-15): Covers his Chicago upbringing in a wealthy Catholic family, education at Canterbury School and Princeton (where he excelled but became an atheist), and Oxford studies under Martin D’Arcy (influenced by Aquinas’s logic). Highlights his early essay praising World War I as regenerative, foreshadowing his lifelong view of violence as a catalyst for change. Personal losses (father’s death, broken engagement) may have fueled his radicalization.
Chapter 2: Embracing Marxism (pp. 16-32): Details his shift to revolutionary Marxism in the 1930s Great Depression, mentored by Sidney Hook and inspired by Trotsky’s History of the Russian Revolution. Burnham joined Trotskyite groups, wrote for socialist journals, and promoted class struggle, viewing U.S. democracy as a sham controlled by the bourgeoisie. He saw power as key to proletarian victory and elections as illusions.
Chapter 3: Leaving Marxism (pp. 33-46): Examines his 1939-1940 break with Trotsky over Stalin’s purges, the Nazi-Soviet Pact, and Soviet invasions. Burnham rejected Marxist dialectics and inevitability, arguing Marxism itself (not just Stalin) caused Soviet tyranny. Trotsky accused him of bourgeois bias; Burnham quit the Workers Party, becoming an “apostate.”
Chapter 4: The New Elite (pp. 47-60): Analyzes The Managerial Revolution (1941), predicting a new ruling class of bureaucrats, managers, and technicians replacing capitalists. Echoes Trotsky’s bureaucratic elite but denies proletarian victory; sees this as limiting democracy in a “managerial society.”
Chapter 5: The Truth about the Elite (pp. 61-74): Discusses The Machiavellians (1943), profiling Mosca, Pareto, Michels, and Sorel on power realism. Burnham argues rulers always prioritize self-interest (“only power restrains power”), democracy is an ideal to fight for against tyranny, and elites manipulate via rhetoric.
Chapter 6: Samuel Francis, George Orwell, the Bureaucratic Elite, and Power (pp. 75-81): Explores Burnham’s influence on Orwell (1984’s elite manipulation) and paleocons like Francis, who drew on elite theory to critique bureaucracy threatening the middle class and democracy—linking to “America First” ideas.
Chapter 7: Using Power against Communism (pp. 82-103): Covers The Struggle for the World (1947), warning of Soviet expansion and advocating a U.S.-led “soft empire” using hard power (military buildup) to overthrow the regime. Pessimistic about U.S. leadership’s vacillation.
Chapter 8: A Strategy for Liberation (pp. 104-116): Analyzes The Coming Defeat of Communism (1950), optimistic roadmap for victory via “political warfare” (soft power like exploiting Soviet divides, allying with Catholic Church) and hard power to liberate Eastern Europe.
Chapter 9: Thought and Action (pp. 117-135): Details Burnham’s CIA work (1940s-1950s): ideas like spreading Stalin assassination rumors, using truth serum on agents, and a rogue operation with mobster Frank Costello to kidnap U.S. communists. He helped found the CIA-funded Congress for Cultural Freedom to recruit anticommunist intellectuals. Supported McCarthy, becoming “anti-anti-McCarthyite,” which ended liberal friendships.
Chapter 10: National Review, Congress and the American Tradition, and Suicide of the West (pp. 136-164): Burnham as National Review senior editor (1955-1978), critiquing U.S. foreign policy (e.g., containment, détente) as benefiting Soviets; advocated arms race. Suicide of the West (1964) calls liberalism the “ideology of Western suicide” for failing against communism, drawing on Burke against rapid reform. Skeptical of ideology, accepted welfare state elements.
Chapter 11: Vietnam Failure and the Non-Western World (pp. 165-186): Burnham demanded more U.S. force in Vietnam (including chemical weapons) to show resolve; blamed failure on insufficient power. Supported colonialism in non-West (e.g., Africa, Asia) as stabilizing; critiqued rapid decolonization creating vacuums for communism.
Epilogue: Burnham Today (pp. 187-192): His legacy in neocons (Reagan’s arms race, Kristol’s “benevolent hegemony”) and paleocons (Francis’s “Middle American Radicals,” Trumpism’s anti-elite populism). Notes recent left-wing criticism for CIA ties, Vietnam views, and colonialism support.
The Juiciest Parts
Byrne doesn’t shy away from Burnham’s controversial edges, portraying him as a “head-spinning” figure who went from lecturing Trotsky to extreme anticommunism. Here are the most provocative, “juicy” elements that highlight his extremism, contradictions, and real-world impacts:
Radical Marxist Phase and Trotsky Breakup: As a Trotskyite, Burnham fomented revolution, dismissing U.S. elections as “prisoners electing wardens.” His public 1940 feud with Trotsky—accusing Marxism of enabling Stalinism—led to Trotsky labeling him a “petty-bourgeois” traitor. Burnham’s apostasy inspired Orwell and paleocons’ anti-establishment rhetoric.
CIA Shenanigans: Burnham brainstormed wild anticommunist ops, like injecting captured Soviet agents with sodium pentothal (truth serum), planting Stalin assassination rumors, and collaborating with mobster Frank Costello to kidnap American communists. He helped orchestrate the 1953 Iran coup and pushed for global anticommunist conferences via the Congress for Cultural Freedom.
McCarthy Support and “Professional Suicide”: Refusing to condemn McCarthy’s investigations, Burnham called himself “anti-anti-McCarthyite.” This burned bridges with liberals (resigning from Partisan Review) and made the CIA wary, but landed him at National Review, where he warned of communist infiltration in everything from government to civil rights groups and Hollywood.
Vietnam Hawkishness: Burnham demanded overwhelming U.S. force in Vietnam, including chemical weapons, to “show hatred” for communism. He blamed U.S. failure on not using enough violence, echoing his youthful praise of World War I as “revivifying.”
Defense of Colonialism and Skepticism of Non-West: He argued colonialism benefited places like Africa and India by providing stability; rapid decolonization created communist vacuums. Called non-Western independence “too much too soon,” predicting chaos.
Elite Theory and Modern Echoes: The Managerial Revolution and The Machiavellians portray politics as raw power struggles where elites manipulate masses—ideas Francis used to fuel paleocon critiques of “technocratic elites,” resonating with Trump-era anti-bureaucracy populism.
Personal Contradictions: A genteel professor who boxed and threw intellectual “punches,” Burnham was emotionally driven despite his logical facade. He preferred liberal Rockefeller over conservative Goldwater, accepted welfare programs, but decried liberalism as suicidal.
These parts underscore Burnham’s “dark” realism and willingness to embrace morally ambiguous tactics for ideological ends, making him a proto-neocon/paleocon villain-hero.
The book portrays Burnham as a Burkean conservative on civil rights—opposed to rapid, federal- or court-driven changes, favoring gradual, local approaches and states’ rights. He viewed the movement as emblematic of liberalism’s flaws: ideologically motivated reforms that ignored human nature and caused more harm. Specific points:
Burnham conceded Black voting rights but opposed strong federal enforcement. He applauded the weakened 1957 Civil Rights Act (which removed key provisions for federal intervention in schools) and criticized using troops in Little Rock (1957) as overreach.
He denounced Brown v. Board of Education (1954) for usurping local control, arguing courts shouldn’t dictate social policy—it restricted freedoms, including Blacks’ choice for segregated schools. Called Chief Justice Earl Warren an “ideologue” turning the Supreme Court into a “political weapon for statist goals.”
In Suicide of the West (1964), he used civil rights as an example of liberalism’s guilt-driven, perpetual reformism, comparing it to futile attempts to “fix” urban skid rows (displacing the poor worsened problems). Saw the 1960s movement as “too much change too fast,” blooming amid tumult he associated with Western decline.
Warned of communist infiltration in civil rights groups (e.g., in The Web of Subversion, 1954), portraying them as potential vehicles for subversion.
Influenced by Trotsky’s rejection of civil rights as “bourgeois tools” (from his Marxist days) and Burke’s preference for organic, slow change over radical upheaval.
Overall, Byrne notes Burnham’s views aligned with 1950s-1960s orthodox conservatism (not necessarily Republican), prioritizing tradition and power balances over equality-driven interventions. This stance isolated him from liberals but fit his elite-skeptical realism.
ChatGPT says: The Big Themes
Burnham started as a Trotskyist revolutionary and ended up as one of the key editors at National Review.
He argued that politics is always about elites using power to maintain their position. Democracy, at best, is a struggle of power against power.
He inspired both Orwell’s 1984 and strands of both neoconservatism (Reagan, Kristol/Kagan) and paleoconservatism (Samuel Francis, Pat Buchanan, Trumpism).
Civil Rights
Burnham took a hard conservative line. He opposed Brown v. Board of Education, siding with Southern segregationist arguments. He said schooling should be settled locally and politically, not by courts. He even argued that Brown restricted Black freedom, since they no longer had the “freedom” to attend segregated schools.
He praised the watered-down Civil Rights Act of 1957, condemning stronger House versions as “utopian” and “ideological”.
In National Review, the editorial “Why the South Must Prevail” (which reflected his views) argued the real problem wasn’t giving Blacks the vote, but “how to equip the Negro—and a great many Whites—to cast an enlightened and responsible vote.” Until then, the White South had a duty to impose its “higher civilized standard” because “for the time being, it is the advanced race”.
He consistently preached patience about racial equality. Against communism he wanted immediate, forceful action; on civil rights, he counseled waiting and hierarchy. He believed not all groups, races, or cultures were equal—Europe ranked above America, America above the non-West.
Why It Stands Out
Burnham could be radical and ruthless abroad (use power, even violence, to crush communism), but deeply reactionary at home (slow change, hierarchy, paternalism).
His writings embodied what Byrne calls “political incorrectness” even by mid-20th century standards. He dismissed egalitarian reformers as utopians blind to human nature.
Burnham’s The Managerial Revolution (1941) is exactly where he first laid out his critique of elite technocratic rule, and it set the tone for later conservative talk of a “ruling class.” His key points:
1. The Rise of the Managerial Class
He argued that ownership was no longer the decisive form of power. In both capitalist and socialist systems, a new elite—managers, bureaucrats, administrators, engineers, and military experts—were taking control.
This group wasn’t tied to capital like the bourgeoisie, nor to labor like the proletariat. Their legitimacy came from technical expertise and administrative ability.
2. Decline of Democracy
Burnham said this shift eroded traditional democratic control. Ordinary citizens were increasingly powerless, because the complexity of modern industry and government left decision-making in the hands of specialists.
For him, democracy was always precarious, but under managerialism it became even more of a façade. Political rhetoric masked the reality that managers and bureaucrats were running the show.
3. Power, Not Ideals
He stripped politics of idealism, arguing that all elites—whether aristocrats, capitalists, or managers—seek first to preserve and expand their own power.
The managerial elite would not bring greater freedom or equality; they would build structures (corporations, agencies, technocratic states) that insulated themselves from accountability.
4. Global and Bipartisan Trend
Burnham stressed that this wasn’t just happening in the U.S.—it was visible in Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, and New Deal America alike.
That universality gave the thesis bite: managerialism was the direction of modernity itself, not just one party’s policy.
5. Legacy of the Critique
His insight that a class of unelected experts and bureaucrats could dominate politics foreshadowed later conservative critiques—like Angelo Codevilla’s “ruling class” and Charles Carrington’s “national class.”
George Orwell drew from The Managerial Revolution when building the world of 1984.
Later paleoconservatives (Samuel Francis, Pat Buchanan) and even populist currents that fed into Trumpism borrowed the theme that managers and technocrats had usurped popular sovereignty.
So Burnham’s critique was less about policy details than about the structural reality of power: democracy was yielding to an unaccountable caste of experts who ruled in their own interest, whether in Washington, Moscow, or Berlin.
ChatGPT said:
In Byrne’s 2025 biography, James Burnham: An Intellectual Biography, the managerial elite critique is treated as Burnham’s most lasting contribution, and Byrne connects it directly to both neoconservative and paleoconservative strands of American politics. Here’s how Byrne frames it in the modern context:
1. Neoconservative Burnham
Neocons (Irving Kristol, Bill Kristol, Robert Kagan) picked up Burnham’s use of power argument, especially from The Struggle for the World (1947), but downplayed his gloomier view of elites.
For them, Burnham justified a strong American empire to resist communism and then promote democracy. Reagan explicitly echoed Burnham’s optimism that showing American strength could topple the USSR.
Christopher Hitchens and later writers even dubbed him the intellectual founder of neoconservatism, citing his belief in “American Empire” as the necessary response to global managerial/communist elites.
2. Paleoconservative Burnham
Samuel Francis, a Burnham disciple, leaned on The Managerial Revolution, The Machiavellians, and Suicide of the West. He saw in Burnham a realist critique of the managerial elite as a threat to middle Americans and to democratic self-rule.
Francis reframed Burnham’s elite theory into an “America First” populism, identifying “Middle American Radicals” (disproportionately White, middle-class, politically excluded) as the new insurgent base against the managerial class.
This directly fed into Trumpism: hostility to technocratic elites, corporate managers, and bureaucrats; and the promise to restore sovereignty to “the people”.
3. Managerial Elite in the Trump Era
Byrne emphasizes that Burnham’s critique of technocratic rule resonates most today through paleoconservatism.
Writers like Michael Lind (in The New Class War) explicitly cast U.S. politics as a battle between a technocratic managerial elite (college-educated, neoliberal, globalist) and excluded working-class populists—a neo-Burnhamite framing.
Trump’s rise is presented as a political expression of Burnham’s pessimism about democratic control under managerial elites.
4. The Two Burnhams
Byrne stresses there are really two Burnhams:
The neocon Burnham: optimistic, empire-building, power-to-defeat-communism.
The paleocon Burnham: skeptical, anti-egalitarian, elite-critical, precursor to Trumpist populism.
The managerial revolution thesis underpins both, but leads in opposite political directions depending on which Burnham you take seriously.
So in Byrne’s telling, Burnham’s 1941 warning about a technocratic “managerial class” evolved into the intellectual seed for both America’s postwar foreign policy empire and for the backlash against globalist, bureaucratic elites that Trump channeled.
Burnham’s answer, especially in The Managerial Revolution and The Machiavellians, was blunt: rule by experts hollows out democracy. Here are the main ways he thought technocratic/managerial power undercut popular government:
1. Displacement of the People
In traditional democracy, sovereignty is supposed to rest with the people. Under managerialism, decision-making shifts to those with specialized knowledge—bureaucrats, engineers, corporate managers, military planners.
Ordinary citizens lack the expertise to challenge them, so elections and representation become symbolic while real power lies elsewhere.
2. Concentration of Power
Managers don’t just administer—they accumulate power because modern society requires centralized planning (big corporations, government agencies, military).
That concentration means fewer checks on elites. As Burnham put it, “only power restrains power,” and once experts monopolize power, restraint is nearly impossible.
3. Decline of Accountability
Burnham warned that managers and bureaucrats aren’t accountable in the same way owners (capitalists) or elected officials are.
Owners can be dispossessed, politicians voted out—but faceless bureaucracies perpetuate themselves across parties and decades.
4. Words vs. Reality
In The Machiavellians he argued that elites always mask their rule with rhetoric. Managers invoke technical necessity (“science says,” “experts recommend”), but this conceals their self-interest in preserving their own status.
He taught readers: ignore what elites say—watch how they preserve power.
5. Erosion of Genuine Democracy
For Burnham, democracy could exist only where competing powers kept each other in check. If one class—managers and experts—became dominant, democracy was reduced to form without substance.
Elections, debates, and constitutions continued, but the outcomes were predetermined by the managerial class’s control of knowledge and institutions.
In short: Burnham didn’t romanticize “the people,” but he thought democracy required pluralism and competing elites. When one expert-managerial class monopolizes administration, it guts democracy—leaving a façade of voting overlaid on permanent technocratic rule.
Based on Burnham’s writings (1940s–70s) and Byrne’s 2025 framing, here’s how Burnham would likely interpret Trump’s assault on expertise and institutions:
1. Trump as Revolt Against the Managerial Class
Burnham argued that the “managerial class” (technocrats, bureaucrats, corporate managers) had displaced both traditional owners and democratic control.
Trump’s war on “the experts” (public health, national security, career bureaucrats, mainstream media) would look to Burnham like a populist backlash against this entrenched elite.
He might see Trump as channeling the anger of what Samuel Francis (his disciple) called “Middle American Radicals” excluded from meaningful political participation.
2. A Challenge to Elite Legitimacy, Not Elites Themselves
Burnham was too much a realist to think Trump destroyed elite rule. He believed every society is governed by some elite.
So he would say Trump wasn’t ending managerial dominance—he was trying to replace one set of elites (technocrats, globalists) with another (Trump’s loyalists, nationalist business types).
3. Assault on Expertise = Weakening Democratic Checks
Burnham warned that when elites delegitimize “truth claims” (science, law, bureaucratic competence), the struggle becomes nakedly about power.
Trump’s dismissal of expert authority (“I alone can fix it”) would resonate with Burnham’s view that elites always mask their power with rhetoric. Trump stripped away the mask.
But Burnham would probably worry that this accelerates the erosion of genuine democratic restraint. If expert institutions are delegitimized without being replaced by competing power centers, you get instability, not renewed democracy.
4. Remaking Institutions as Elite Contest
For Burnham, Trump’s effort to bend the DOJ, intelligence community, and even the military to his personal control would be seen as a classic elite maneuver: an attempt to capture and reorient the machinery of managerial rule.
He would not be shocked by this—Burnham always said elites seek above all to maintain and expand their own power.
5. Burnham’s Likely Verdict
He might admire Trump for recognizing the reality of elite conflict and for mobilizing outsiders against a complacent managerial class.
But he would probably be skeptical of Trump’s capacity to truly reorganize institutions, because Burnham insisted managerial elites are resilient and reproduce themselves across regimes.
In other words: Trump exposed the managerial elite’s vulnerability but did not end its dominance.
So Burnham’s takeaway: Trumpism shows the populist revolt he predicted, but it doesn’t transcend elite rule—it just shifts the balance within it.
LF: Aaron Renn says that in America today, the right can only take over institutions at the top. They can’t rise through institutions like the left. Did Burnham say anything about this?
Yes — Burnham had a lot to say that anticipates Renn’s point.
1. Elites don’t rise democratically
In The Machiavellians (1943), Burnham insists that politics is always a struggle among elites. Ordinary people don’t “rise through” institutions in the sense of grassroots democracy. Instead, established elites recruit, co-opt, or suppress newcomers.
He rejected the liberal story that democratic institutions naturally empower outsiders. Institutions, he argued, are filters designed to preserve the dominance of the ruling class.
2. Revolutions and “replacement at the top”
In The Managerial Revolution (1941), he argued that a new elite — the managerial class — displaced capitalists and workers, not by climbing within the old capitalist order but by taking over at the top in moments of crisis (Depression, war).
His model of elite change is circulation of elites (from Pareto and Mosca): a ruling class is always replaced, but replacement is discontinuous and often abrupt, not gradual.
3. Institutions as self-protecting
Burnham stressed that bureaucracies and managerial institutions are designed to reproduce themselves. They make it very hard for outsiders to climb up from below, since expertise, credentialing, and hierarchy control access.
That’s why he said reformers who try to “work within the system” usually end up co-opted or neutralized.
4. So: takeover at the top
If Renn says the right can only capture institutions by seizing leadership positions rather than rising inside them, Burnham would nod. For him, that’s always how elite turnover works — from Lenin seizing the Russian state to corporate managers displacing owners.
Bottom-up insurgency rarely works; elites shift when another elite faction seizes or fractures the top layer.
5. Burnham’s lesson
He would probably tell Renn: you can’t reform institutions like universities, bureaucracies, or media from inside, because they are built to entrench the managerial class.
If the right wants influence, it has to do what every successful elite does — contest directly for control at the commanding heights, not climb patiently through ladders designed by the other side.
Byrne makes clear that Burnham’s theory of elite circulation maps neatly onto the frustration Aaron Renn describes — the sense that the right can’t “rise through” institutions but can only try to seize them from above.
Burnham on Elite Circulation
Burnham drew heavily from Vilfredo Pareto’s idea that elites don’t disappear, they circulate. One ruling class is replaced by another, usually not by gradual internal reform but by an external faction seizing control at the top.
In The Managerial Revolution, he predicted that managers would displace owners not by climbing up through capitalist firms but by appropriating state power in a crisis. Once inside, they would consolidate and reproduce their dominance.
Institutions as Self-Protecting
Byrne notes Burnham’s warning that bureaucracies and managerial institutions perpetuate themselves. They rarely allow genuine outsider ascension — instead, they filter, credential, and co-opt. Outsiders who try to “work within” the system get neutralized.
For Burnham, this meant reform by slow infiltration was an illusion. Real change comes only when a rival elite displaces incumbents at the top.
Modern Resonance
Byrne explicitly connects Burnham’s thinking to today’s “deep state” discourse. He shows how writers like Mike Lofgren (The Deep State) and Samuel Francis translated Burnham’s theory into a critique of unelected bureaucratic elites, echoing the idea that the only way to challenge them is head-on, not through internal promotion.
This is exactly Renn’s point: the right can’t slowly move up through institutions dominated by technocratic elites; they have to take them over, as Burnham would put it, “at the top.”
So: Burnham didn’t say it in Renn’s words, but his whole framework assumed that elite rule is never overthrown from within. It’s replaced when a rival elite seizes the commanding heights — a logic that conservatives today see playing out in universities, bureaucracies, and media.
According to Byrne’s 2025 biography, Burnham’s influence is rising again, after a long lull. Here’s the trajectory Byrne sketches:
1. Peak in the 1940s–60s
The Managerial Revolution (1941) and The Machiavellians (1943) were widely read and discussed. George Orwell built 1984 partly on Burnham’s framework.
In the Cold War, Burnham became a core intellectual at National Review, shaping anti-communist strategy and Cold War hawkishness.
Reagan later echoed Burnham’s thinking about U.S. power and the fall of the Soviet Union .
2. Decline in the 1970s–1990s
After the fall of the Berlin Wall, neocons downplayed Burnham’s darker, elite-focused side.
His more pessimistic books (Suicide of the West, The Machiavellians) went out of fashion; he was remembered mainly as an anti-communist strategist, not a theorist of elites.
Outside of Samuel Francis and paleoconservatives, few on the right claimed him.
3. Revival in the 21st Century
Byrne points out that Burnham is being rediscovered because his managerial elite critique fits today’s populist mood. Terms like “the ruling class” (Codevilla), “the deep state” (Lofgren), or “the national class” (Carrington) are all neo-Burnhamite frames.
Paleocons and Trumpists cite him indirectly through Francis’s “Middle American Radicals” thesis. Michael Lind’s The New Class War and Curtis Yarvin’s writings echo Burnham’s argument that managerial elites have usurped democratic sovereignty.
Byrne notes that scholars and journalists now call him both a “proto-neocon” and a “proto-Trumpist” — proof of his renewed relevance across factions.
4. The Split Legacy
His neocon Burnham (anti-communist strategist, advocate of American empire) has faded with the decline of U.S. unipolar optimism.
His paleocon Burnham (skeptical of equality, critical of managerial elites) is rising because it maps onto populist anger at technocrats and institutions.
Bottom line: Burnham is more influential today than he’s been since the Cold War, but it’s his elite-theory side that’s ascendant, not his Cold War hawk side. He’s become a touchstone for both populist intellectuals and critics of technocracy.
